The birth of a heroine in technicolor.
Who came first, Wordfreak or Aryan, I was asked some time ago.
The answer actually is Worddiva. I play mucho Scrabble online as Wurdeeva...or did until Facebook exploded all around the world and brought with it all its scrabbulicious apps that do not require handles. So back in Feb '09, I had to write a 500 word scene for an online creative writing class and this is what I created...
Mirror, Mirror! On the wall... rang my thoughts as I stood staring at the towel-clad reflection in my full length narcissistic contraption. Huge brown eyes with faint smudges beneath dominated a heart shaped face, so pale, so gaunt. Sighing deeply I moved away, picked up the bottle of moisturizer from the dresser and sat down on my bed to replenish my skin and ease my muscles. At least my hair was perfect. Freshly washed and still warm from the hair drier, it fell in casual, gentle waves of cinnamon down my back. I’d had it cut a few weeks ago and it had already grown and inch or so.
Spring had given way to summer recently and I had the solitary window in my room open to the balmy evening air. Faint sounds of traffic from below and a louder ‘I’d like to Move it, Move it!’ wafted in rhythmically making me grin. Little Chucky from next door was watching Madagascar yet again. I felt slow and sluggish, still recovering from my bout of flu from last week. Luckily, I had come away with a couple of bonuses from my epidemic—a few lost pounds and a softer, huskier voice. Perfect! Absolutely perfect for the big date I was getting all dolled up for.
There! I had said it or thought it, out loud. BIG DATE! I took a deep steadying breath, hoping to calm my erratically beating heart. I swallowed uneasily. Thank God! I was sitting down already, my legs felt like Jello
Was I ‘Off my Rocker’ as my best friend Penny had so eloquently put it last night? Granted I did not know HIM too well, not at all in reality. I only knew him virtually, through our intensely competitive scrabble games and our fun and flirty online chats. That he could very well be Jack the Ripper snaring his next hapless victim crossed my mind. But it did not feel like that. HE did not feel like that! Arguably, I had pointed out, how could it be any less or more risky than a random chance meeting at a club or party?
My iPhone jingled its merry Marimba tune, jolting me out of my thoughts. Oh my God! Was it HIM? Calling to cancel? No, of course it wasn’t, HE didn’t have my phone number, yet. Twisting around, I checked the caller ID. It read MOM! Rolling my eyes I decided she could wait till tomorrow to voice her angst on my irrational and imprudent behavior. I figured, either I would be right and Wordfreak would be all that he promised to be (picture Brad Pitt, but truly I would even settle for a taller version of James MacAvoy!) or they (my mother, sister, brother, best friend, neighbor…etc.) would be right and I would have allowed my irrational imprudent self to be mugged, raped, kidnapped or brutally murdered or a combination thereof! They could all come and gloat while picking up my pieces.
Enough! I told myself, get ready already! Stripping the towel off, I quickly donned my underwear, strapless bra and pretty blue halter dress that I had pressed this morning. Turning this way and that, I eyed it from every angle and approved! Going back to the mirror, I prettied up my face with a few dabs of powder, a slash of blush per cheek, colorless mascara and shiny, sweet lip gloss. Almost ready! Heels? Nope, what if HE’s not that tall, better stick with flats as I stand 5 feet 9 inches in my bare feet. I chose the silver roman sandals.
With one last critical look in the mirror, I picked up my purse and my keys and stumbled out into the world, with butterflies in my stomach and two possibilities.
Not that different from what eventually got published but different enough. Click here to read (and compare) the excerpt from It's Your Move, Wordfreak!
So, Worddiva/Alisha came first. Is she me? Physically absolutely not! Characteristically? Probably. But then, so is Aryan.
|First Cover Draft|
Did I scream, squeal, jump up and down and bring the house down when I saw this? What do you think?