Posts Tagged ‘Seattle’

While my story lives on and I continue to write it, I’ve been neglecting this feature of my blog. I do apologize and promise to keep up!

Words written: 4,166
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite part:

I walked to work the next morning like a changed woman. I saw my city through different eyes. Every corner café had new potential for an experience I could have with Jack Rook. Every building I passed spoke stories through me that I could tell him, personal and historical. And every person I passed was like a point of light, shining and obvious as they lit my way to work. Their own smiles bouncing off of mine.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

I apologize for neglecting this blog and not posting “Notes” for a whole month. It doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing, because I have! Right now, I’m stuck right at the beginning of the story, and I’m actually having a lot of fun laying the ground work for Renata’s behavior, feelings, and personality that comes later in the parts I’ve already written. I’m also having a lot of fun writing a sister dynamic between Renata and her sister Marianna. Since my own sister, Marissa, is one of my very best friends, confidants, and person I turn to for feedback, I’m honoring her with a part of the story.

Words written: 573
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite part:

“Follow me,” she said hastily as she brushed past me. I put the sunglasses I was modeling back onto the rack and followed behind her into Alistair Apparel’s most luxurious dressing room. Not only did I have a blood connection to one of Seattle’s trendiest boutiques, but I had a professional one as well. I was on a first name basis with Vlad Alistair, a designer and the proprietor of the boutique. JD Designs was hired to rebrand the label, shop, and website, just in time for a three-city expansion to Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Aspen. Since a pair of jeans started at $250, and my closet of clothes looked more like Gap and less like Guess, I had never actually bought anything at Alistair Apparel, even though Marianna was constantly teasing me about my bland wardrobe. Mari, herself, was always up on the latest trends, and spent the majority of paycheck to adapt to it. So tonight’s trip into the boutique had Marianna far more excited than it had me. I was now in her world and she was going to enjoy every moment of it.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Words written: 747
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

Julia was staring out the window, her champagne flute rested gently against her cheek, and I could tell she was deep in thought. I knew that look on her face from my own personal experience. It was longing for something more. I felt comfortable enough, and maybe even buzzed from the champagne, to engage Julia about what I had witnessed, “So I don’t know if you caught on but I think Mr. Spencer has a crush on you.”

© 2009 Rochelle Michael

Words written: 2,726
Setting: Seattle
Perspective: Renata’s Narrative

Favorite line (#wipfavline on twitter):

More like a paragraph, and it just so happens that this paragraph opens Renata’s narrative.

I watched the time count up as I ran faster than usual on one of my gym’s many treadmills. 29:46. 29:47. 29:48. Before I could see 29:49, my cell phone vibrated harshly against the built-in water bottle holder. My ex-husband Patrick’s smiling face popped up on the display for the second time during my work out. I ignored it and increased the speed on the treadmill for the last ten seconds, hoping that if I ran even faster I would feel less frustrated with him. 29:58. 29:59. 30:00. Cool down. But running faster hadn’t made me feel better, it only made me trip over my own feet. As my body fell toward the horrifying conveyer belt, I thanked my lucky stars that I had remembered to adhere the emergency stop cord to my t-shirt. I hit the rubber surface hard and heard the women around me yelp at the sight of my fall and the sound of my thud. I pulled myself up, red with embarrassment and sore all over. I told myself right then and there I would never again act so stupid because my ex-husband was giving me grief. Never.

© 2009 Rochelle Michael