Saturday, May 4, 2013

My Favorite Scene

I've been debating for a while on whether or not to post anything that I've written. The fact is, a lot of my family is on my Facebook, which is where I promote my blog, and I've struggled with how much they should read, if anything. One of my biggest fears is being judged for the words that pour from my imagination. I've spoken here about my worries about being though a bad Christian or a bad feminist because of my writing when I strive to be good at both of those things in my real life. I have family that is extremely judgmental and who I am sincerely afraid will never look at me the same after reading my novel, so I've made a huge effort to hide it all away and never let anyone see. That stops today.

Ultimately, I'm proud of what I've written, and I think it can stand against a lot of what is in bookstores. It was actually my mom who got me into reading, and reading is what made me want to write, so Mom, I'm your fault!

I was made fun of for scribbling in my notebooks in school. My friends loved it, and there were a few time I wrote a story as a birthday present for them. I've posted fanfic online that has gotten thousands of reviews, and yet I've never let anyone in my life, save my sister, read my stuff. How is it that I'm more comfortable being judged by thousands of strangers than I am by the people who love and support me?

No more. The thought still terrifies me, but I'm making a distinct effort to not be ashamed of my imagination or the words I put down on paper. They do not define me. They are not who I am, or what I would do. They're a story, and one I'm proud of having written. I'm not taking this journey to publication on my own, and it's not fair to continue to hide from my writing. So, without further ado, one of my favorite scenes from Devil's Dilemma.

           “They’ll find us. One way or another, I’m going to have to fight to get through this.” Griffin gasped, her arms braced on her knees and her hair hanging into her face.
            Gage nodded. “I’ve realized that myself. The chapel is the safest place, but also the place that we want to go with as little time left as possible. I think our best bet is to keep moving.” He studied her face. “If I say run, you run, and you don’t stop until you’re in that sanctuary. Then you do everything you know how to do to keep them out, and you put yourself in a salt circle. Do you understand?”
            “I understand.” She managed to straighten. “Should we leave the monastery? I can do this anywhere. It might be safer if we just run for the next half hour.”
            “There are demons all over the perimeter. We’d never get away unnoticed, and the last place I want to be with you in the last minutes is out in the open. Believe it or not, we’re safer in here than out there.” He took her arm and walked down the hall at a slower pace. He pressed her against the wall, peered around a corner, ducking back when he saw several demons walking down the hall. “Damn.”
            “Demons, half a dozen. Garden variety, but still a pain in the ass.” He went quiet and listened for a moment. “There are Familiars coming up behind us. We have to move, and quickly. Do you have a weapon?”
            Griffin removed a gun from the backpack and showed it to him. “Alaria left me this.”
            “It’ll work. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
            Together, they crept down the hall, then ran across it, trying to avoid the demons. They weren’t successful, and one saw Griffin duck through a door. The shouts behind them and the sound of many pairs of feet struck fear through both of them. Gage swore and pushed Griffin ahead of him. One glance over his shoulder told him the situation was dire.
            “Remember what I told you about running?”
            “Yeah, why?”
            “Do it! Run!” Gage shoved her hard and sent her flying down the hallway. He stopped, turned, and charged into the mass of demons and Familiars, fangs fully extended, his roar echoing through the entire floor. Griffin didn’t stop to watch the horror she knew would be unfolding. Instead, she swung down the stairs and ran as fast as she could.

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