Tara OSH 📖☀️❤️

Writer, Editor & Book Coach in Training

Chapter 1: The Fight (Scene 4)

That’s why Alexa felt a little guilty about her explosion this morning. Sylvie had been ranting about another one of her mother’s disapproving comments on her recent decision to change jobs from being a nurse to a daycare assistant. Sylvie didn’t know if she wanted kids, so she thought it would be a good idea to be around them more and see if she would go crazy or not. As a nurse, she sometimes dealt with kids, but she didn’t have a say in her rotation on what kind of patients she interacted with. Sylvie’s mother, of course, felt that being a nurse had a higher status, more pay – fair point -, and greater potential to snag a doctor to settle down with to start a family – sooner was better than later, in her opinion. Having just turned 30, it was understandable that her mother would have some concern, but really 30 was the new 20 and there was still plenty of time either way to do whatever Sylvie wanted.

It was as Sylvie was claiming her independence and right to make her own decisions no matter what age she is that Alexa had let her boiling pot spill over. 

“Guess you should have been adopted, after all,” Alexa had said with a current of attitude that stopped Sylvie mid sentence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” Alexa tried to wave it off already regretting that she hadn’t managed to withhold her growing bitterness.

“No, you definitely meant something by that. Tell me what you mean.” Sylvie had demanded with a look that Alexa knew meant she wasn’t going to be able to brush off.

“It’s just that you seem to think that I don’t have any problems because I’m adopted and just because I don’t think I want to have children that I can’t understand what you’re going through. Just now, you said it again – how it’s easy for me because I have already decided not to have children. You just make it sound like I wouldn’t understand. My life isn’t an excuse. It’s also not something for you to throw back in my face as a way of justifying your frustrations.”

“Oh. My. God. Are you for real right now?”

“You don’t get it. Whatever.”

“No! Nuh-uh, you don’t get to drop that and then say ‘whatever’ like that. YOU know that I’m struggling with this. YOU know how much pressure my mom puts on me. Plus, she’s desperate for me to get married, but I can’t even begin to think about that until I know if I even want to have kids. It IS easy for you because you know you don’t want kids and because you’re adopted, you don’t have that pressure to pass on your genes.”

“See! That’s exactly my point. How can you say that? Just because my parents are biologically connected to me doesn’t mean that I don’t have pressure or that I don’t rethink my decision daily. But, most importantly, it’s not for YOU to tell me that or to assume it! Don’t dismiss me, my life, or my decisions to make yourself feel better!”

“Wow! Well, you know what Alexa, it’s my turn – WHATEVER!” 

With that, Sylvie had thrown down the kitchen towel she was holding from drying her hands after doing the breakfast dishes and stormed out. Alexa flinched as she heard the door slam to Sylvie’s bedroom.

They had been friends and roommates since university. From their first meeting in the dorm during their sophomore year, they had vowed to be best friends forever for the rest of their lives. Even though they could have moved in with boyfriends, or back home with their parents, they had continued to be roommates since graduating. They had taken turns covering rent when one or the other was struggling to avoid having to live separately. Neither of them had ever considered any other arrangement. They even somewhat idealistically believed they would always be roommates or at the very least next door neighbors.

In the near decade of their friendship, they had only had a few arguments and they always made up halfway through by making each other laugh. So, the fact that Sylvie had actually stormed off, and Alexa had made no effort to diffuse the situation, was serious for them.

Of course, Alexa knew that all she had to do was apologize and bring a bottle of prosecco as a white flag, and they would be fine again. However, as she sipped her cold coffee, she could feel herself still steaming and wasn’t sure that she could take that step. So, she was stewing in the cafe waiting it out until Sylvie left for her nursing night shift. It would buy her time until morning to have to make peace.

Chapter 1: Sylvie (Scene 2)

After speed walking two blocks and feeling certain that there was no chance of being spotted again, Alexa looked up to get her bearings. It was still too early to go home as she knew her roommate would still be there and wasn’t yet ready to face her after their fight that morning.

It hadn’t been about anything when thinking about it superficially, but her roommate had again been complaining about something her mother had said and it had pushed Alexa over the edge. She knew she should have just listened and been supportive as she usually was, but lately Alexa had become sensitive to anything Sylvie said creating unusual tension between them.

She needed time to process, which was what had brought her to the playground in the first place.

While she knew when the niggling started, Alexa wasn’t quite sure how to verbalize it in a way that could be rationally discussed yet. 

It was a few days ago, when Sylvie had come home complaining about her mother – again. It wasn’t uncommon for Sylvie to rage about something her mom said or did. Usually, it was a misunderstood conversation or a disapproval of something that the independent daughter had done. Alexa was familiar with that feeling herself from her own parents, but her relationship with her mom and dad was an open one, so negative feelings rarely brewed long enough to fester into a sour taste between them.

Most of the time, Alexa was a quiet supporter and listener to Sylvie’s rants, but it was when Sylvie said to her off-handedly, “I wish I was adopted like you” in the midst of her lamenting that Alexa went from quietly supporting to silently raging.

She knew it wasn’t an intentionally dismissive comment about Alexa’s life as she and Sylvie had often talked about her feelings about being adopted. However, something about this comment thrown out as if it were a choice or some kind of preferred option hit Alexa like a sour patch kid mixing sweetness and tartness in one emotional outburst. Although at the time Alexa just smiled encouragingly so as not to make the situation about her, she knew that was the moment that the spark of fury was ignited.

Chapter 1: Children (scene 1)

This is the beginning of a new novel I am beginning called “Omma, odiya [Mother, where are you?]. I’ve not followed rules recommended by book coaches; however, with my writer’s hat on, so be it. 🙂 Anyway, please feel free to leave a comment with feedback!

Alexa sat watching the children running around on the playground. Her eyes moving from those who were just learning how to use their legs and the smiling faces of their mother or father encouraging them to test out the speed of their newfound two-legged stance, to the well-practiced toddlers laughing with confidence as they scream down the slides, to the elementary school age kids not sure if they have yet become too cool for the little kids playground. Although she found herself smiling in a way that many might attribute as wistful, in her mind she was musing as to why anyone would have one of these little creatures in their home.

“Isn’t she just the cutest?” 

“What? Oh, um, yeah, she is pretty cute.” Alexa smiled at the woman realizing that she had been staring at a little Asian girl whom this woman probably assumed was hers. It was a natural assumption, for why would anyone be in a children’s playground if their own kid wasn’t there?

“Is she yours?” The woman smiled with an expected answer of Yes written on her face.

“Oh, no. Actually, I don’t have any kids. I just come here sometimes to watch them play. It helps me think.”

“Oh!” an initial look of confusion slowly shifts into a sympathetic look. Another common assumption was likely being processed:  Alexa must be there because she really wants kids, but for whatever reason can’t have them. 

When the look of sympathy starts to deepen, Alexa puts a stop to it though she knows she doesn’t have to explain herself to a perfect stranger. Still, she often feels the need to justify her presence.

“I’m a writer. I just come here sometimes to watch how they interact and process ideas for my characters.” 

“Oh, I see. Do you write children’s books? Would I know anything you have written?”

Alexa wasn’t prepared to answer such questions since the truth was that she was an aspiring writer and had hoped that her answer would dissuade the interrogator from continuing with the inquisition.

Seeing a message pop up on her phone, Alexa saw her opening to get away.

“I’m so sorry, I have to reply to this. It might be my editor about my recent manuscript.”

“Of course, go on. I’m sure I’ll see you again. My little Joseph loves this playground so we come almost every day.” 

“Oh, that’s great. Yeah, okay, I’ll look for you again next time. So sorry, but I really have to go.” With that, Alexa grabbed her bag giving a quick wave and a flash of an apologetic smile as she made her way while pretending to look at her phone.

Questions for feedback:
1. Does it grab you as the start of the novel?
2. Are you interested in Alexa now?
3. What insights did you find in who Alexa is just from this first scene?

Hello from OSH!

Welcome to my author website and home for information related to Book Coaching as I continue to work through getting certified – more on that later.

In this section of the site, I’ll be posting written pieces. They may be chapters or parts of chapters from my novel or novels. They may be poems. They may be short vignettes of story pieces that I am contemplating. I’ll try to label them accordingly and introduce where I can.

For years, I have used creativemeanderings.com as my main creative space. However, mostly those posts reflect my life and reflections on a more personal level.

Now, it is time to have a more creative outlet, especially as I embark on making a childhood dream a reality, so here is the new home of my writing and related endeavors.

As a reader, I hope that you will also engage in this space by giving me candid feedback and helping me reach more readers through my words. It’s not an easy task to put oneself out there, but writers must share the stories we weave if we intend to fulfill our calling completely.

So, with that, please stay tune and connected!

More to come ~

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