Novel Update 1

I am on page 21 out of 50, and at 13.500 plus words. The synopsis is "A Rancher gets struck by lighting" and the working title is the Worst Novel Ever. Lots being thought about, but not to much happening in the novel.

Here is an excerpt from page 21. This might give you an idea if you will have any interest in reading the finished product: (one of the characters is at a cow show looking for another character)

Dang! Where is that woman? Nothing exciting has happened since I arrived. Maybe I should find a cow and tag it. Not an ear tag- spray paint. I have some in my purse here. Probably I would write, “Call me for a good time.” Then I would write my number as the answer to a complicated mathematical problem using imaginary numbers (i) and geometry theorems and ugh… fractions that don’t reduce evenly. That way if someone solved the problem and called me, we could have a good time desperately searching for the crank function and maybe some simpler proofs of Ramanujan's mathematical discoveries.

This place is like hick city. They are having a raffle and just announced winning ticket number 1379403 has won the Pampered Chief basket full of cooking utensils. Either out here in Do Dah City they have high ranking Native Americans with domestic tendencies, or name brand cooking utensils are so foreign, they have never heard of the Pampered Chef. Obviously, I am a big city raised sophisticated lady: I own a Pampered Chef mixing bowl, measuring cup set and fly swatter with detachable dust pan. The fly swatter also has fly (and other smashed dead bug I suppose) tweezers in the handle like a Swiss Army Knife, but that is too down and dirty for me, so I eschew the use of the tweezers, and focus my energies on the dust (dead bug? Because I am sure not sweeping up dust with it) pan.

End of excerpt.

Some might recognize where I got one of the ideas, (Thanks, Mom, for my very own Pampered Chef items) and if you were at the band field show this weekend, you would have recognized where I got the other idea. However, Santa Clarita is more sophisticated than this hick city, and the announcer did recognize and comment that whoever wrote about the prize had spelled "chef" as "chief." Ok- have to get back to writing! I am officially behind. I believe I should be at 23 pages and 15000 words by the end of tonight.

In bonus news, I used the word "gyrate" in my novel. And not in conjunction with aircraft, either.