Marathons

We interrupt our review of the new television season by Jenny-decree. Although, I don't remember hearing said decree, but I may have been busy with pizza.

The writing marathon was a very good time. I wrote an okay start to the Vesta novel during three of the five writing periods, which was sort of against the rules. Of course, so was walking around in a clump of 8. Excuse me, two groups of 4 together. But it was what I think I needed to get a jumpstart on writing again. Lots of good ideas percolating. Gotta love that.

And you have love the way the group just feeds off itself. I realize that sounds like a bad thing, but we do tend to inspire and challenge and build on what the others are doing. So it's a good thing. Sometimes it's direct like Jenny and Ali swapping notebooks at the Gold Dust. Usually, it's more taking inspiration from a comment or situation and building on it.

I guess I've procrastinated long enough. Here's what I wrote at the library based on the Huck Finn reading. No edits--

The bloated body floated face up in the stagnant pond. Benjamin thought that dead bodies would do the dead man's float. The belly of the man--Benjamin assumed the thing in front of him had been male because of the shortness of the hair--was as white as an old tree toad.

Ben picked up a stick and prodded the arm, but got little satisfaction from that. He leaned a little farther across the algae-covered water at the edge of the mossy bank. He poked at the belly and the corpse jiggled a bit. He thrust forward a little harder. The corpse heaved over, surprising the boy. His arms pinwheeled, but he fell forward face first into the fetid water and came up still flailing and sputtering. The body bumped into him and he shoved. But instead of propelling the object away, his hand sank into the soft flesh.

Did I mention that I went to my dark place? Or that two of us came up with little boys named Benjamin as characters? Just happens sometimes.