The Lion and the Gazelle: Part 1-The Lion

Every morning in Africa, the lion wakes up knowing he will have to outrun his pride if he wants to eat. The gazelle wakes up knowing he must outrun the lion if he wants to live. It doesn't matter if you are a lion or a gazelle, when the sun rises, are you ready to run?

Mr. Winston, the unlucky bastard, stood a full 6-feet tall when he was just fourteen years old. "You should play ball," everyone told him on account of his height. In high school, he was always picked first, no matter the sport, and it never failed to see him in the back row of every class picture.

Once, he was mistaken for a teacher on parent-faculty night and it took Robbie Johnston's mother a full 15 minutes before she realized she had addressing her concerns to "Little Nicky Winston from down the street." Apparently, Mrs. Johnston was confused about her son's D in chemistry as he spent hours locked up in his room "doing his assignments." He waved it off, knowing full well what Robbie did in his bedroom each night. It was the same thing every 14-year-old boy on Kernan Street had done at night in their bedroom with the door locked--and it was far from studying.

The glamour of being an athlete or the ability to buy beer for his friends (and, for a certain price, anyone else) in high school never much appealed to Mr. Winston. He longed for something more. Something would make a difference in the world. And while the lifestyle accompanied with dribbling a ball for a living had its promises, Mr. Winston's aspirations were just a bit higher. So, he went off to college.

There, he found it easy to be himself with no predetermined expectations holding him back. He was not the only tall kid on campus. He was not the only boy with facial hair. He wasn't even the only Nicholas Todd Winston. In three years' time, he graduated with all kinds of honors and awards so much so that he resembled a heavily-ordained Christmas tree in his deep green robe.

After all this, he still wanted more.

"I don't know," he sighed, placing his fourth shot glass on the bar at Mable's. "I just feel like something's missing--like I should be doing more."

Jason Reeves stared back at him with an incredulous look. Jason and Nicholas had been roommates in college and friends for years. While Nicholas had a double major in Business Management and Aacounting, Jason simply held a degree in Philosophy. The two often had hours-long converations before agreeing to disagree. Mr. Winston liked their contradicting opinions. Jason's views of the world were different than his, he thought for himself. He had always liked that about him.

"What do you mean? You want to own your own business or something?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

Jason knocked back his second shot of tequila. "But you work for Abshire & Grant! Do you know how many people in our class would kill for that job? Seriously, I thought Carrie Hill was going to strangle you when Dr. Lee announced you had won won the internship."

That made him smile. Carrie Hill, for all her outer beauty, was a cold, conniving bitch. It was no secret that she slept her way through school only using her brain in classes taught by morally conscience female professors. There was a time, a period of about 3 days, when Carrie was absent from all her classes whcih struck all with concern. Carrie always showed up to class. Her may have been wrinkled, inside-out, or the same as the day before; her make up may have been smeared or missing altogether; her hair may have been a jumbled mess atop her hair usually loosely held together by a single office-grade rubber band--but she was always present in class.

"Maybe Professor Cunningham's keeping her locked up somewhere," offered one of their classmates.

"Yeah, he's a bit of a psycho." chimed in another.

"Or maybe his wife found out." chirped a third, causing the class to erupt with whispers and other possible reasons for Carrie's absence.

In the end, it was Ade Owusu, a premed student who worked part-time at the campus health center, who silenced the rumors. Carrie had an infection in an unsavory and unmentionable place. It required a 5-day prescription of antibiotic cream.

Carrie Hill...

Carrie Hill... Carrie Hill...

The bar faded back into view along with Jason's hand passing over his face.

"Man, you were really gone there. You okay?"

Mr. Winston knocked back yet another shot, savoring the burnign sensation in his throat and expanding in his chest before settling in the pit of his stomach. Soon, the lightheadedness would arrive and he would be forced to call a cab to take him 6 and 3/4 blocks to his apartment. "I think I'll head home." he said finally, tumbling off his bar stool.

"Need a lift?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I'll just call a cab."

Jason looked confused, then hurt. "It's 6 blocks. That's less than a mile."

"Six and three-quarter. City blocks. Besides, you live in the opposite direction."

That made Jason laugh. "Leave it to you to rationalize when you're drunk. Come on," he said taking hold of Nick's arm. He threw a stack of bills on the bar and continued dragging his intoxicated friend out the door.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

My name is Kaylyn.. and I'm a skipper

I'm beginning to think of chemistry like rehab for my laziness. If can push myself to go, I feel a little bit better about myself. And other people are beginning to take notice as well.

"I don't feel like going to chemistry today," I'll whine. "That's not good. You should try to go." is the usual response I'm met with. And, true, actually attending class has it's advantages. Especially when you take into account that nice safety net of an attendance grade he gives. (:

On the other hand, when I tell someone "I went to chemistry twice this week already," the reaction is quite different. "That's great! Gonna make it all week?" And I'll say I'll try but nothing's promised.. that I want to achieve my goal of going 3 times a week before the end of the semester--which, as it stands, I'm at 2/3 for this week and looking well for Friday--and they tend to encourage me further before I change the subject to something other than my carelessness.

Still, I wonder why I feel so apathetic about this class. It's been suggested to me that because I don't see myself using much chemistry as an English major with a hope to become a published author, I don't care. But is that really the reason? I mean, in high school, I still paid attention in chemistry (for the most part). And I knew then I wanted to be an author.

So is it the freedom of college that allows me to be so apathetic and lazy when it comes to chemistry? Or is it something completely different? I don't know.

But what I do know is that I am at least going to chemistry now. Paying attention... Well, that's another blog. :P

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

[And, yes, I wrote this while in chemistry. Poor professor thinks I'm typing notes. Bwahaha!]

And I shall call it Wildfire

Not that I've totally forgotten about NaNoWarMo.. But I have been thinking about my actual NaNo more and more. It's all about the planning. I know the title. Wildfire. And today, I started working on a synopsis (like what you'd find on the back of the book). Here's what I got so far:

(And, yes, I'm aware some of this may seem familiar)

Wildfire
n.

1. a raging, rapidly spreading fire
2. something that acts very quickly and intensely
3. any large fire that spreads rapidly and is hard to extinguish


Carly Jameson, still sunburned from her Christian youth group's camping trip, is thrown into another unfamiliar wilderness: high school.

Being knocked down to the bottom of the food chain is never easy, especially when your older sister has her 3-inch stiletto implanted firmly on your neck. Not to mention being hated by teachers who think you're just like her. The worst part being it's only 11am!

Carly is about to discover how one off-handed comment can be misinterpreted, repeated, interpreted again, repeated, and spread in the unending, vicious cycle known as gossip; the wildfire quickly consuming her school and life.

not enough / 20,000

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

[another] Shameless Plug

So... taking after Rachel, I'm going to promote my current writing aspiration here. Hopefully, my readers expand wider than my friends circle. Because I think they already know.


What I'd like you to do:

1:. Go to youchronicle.com

It's a place where you can post stories (fiction or non) for free. It's pretty cool. Very small (for now). But you can post, comment, and rate. So please take advantage of all. Especially the latter.

2:. Find me and Rachel.

Isianya and Miss A to Z, respectively.

3:. Rate and comment!

5 stars please! Haha. No, not really. But it'd really help us out. Like... A LOT. Thus far, we've both posted things you've already read so just rate and maybe leave a nice comment to bump us up to the first page.

That's about it. Thanks for your support!

201 / 20,000 (shush!)

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

What happened to us

I said I'd always love you
and, honestly, I tried.
I said I'd never leave you
but, obviously, I lied.

We had it all planned out,
just you and I.
We were going to take on the world
or at least give it a try.

Then the days grew longer
and the nights grew dim.
Then I met another
and I wanted only him.

Now we're truly happy
and every day's a blessing.
But you're always sad
and that's truly depressing.

We'll never be again
not even if we tried.
I couldn't say I love you
not even if I lied.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

What the hell is NaNoWarMo?

Sooo... It's officially October. Yay. Which means two things: Halloween, which I'm especially excited for this year considering my costume, and something I like to call "NaNoWarMo." Yes. NaNoWarMo.

NaNoWarMo is my own personal training period before NaNoWriMo. Instead of trying to hit the ground running in November trying to flesh out 50,000 words in 30 days, I'm going to do 20,000 words for the month of October as a warm up. Get it? NaNoWar-Mo. Yeah, I'm clever. Haha.

I'll try to post my progress and selective chapters/excerpts here. I won't make y'all muddle through all 20,000 words.

So here we go!

0/20,000

.:~*'Kaylyn'*o~:.