That’s right! I currently have 53,462 words. However, I made my goal (50,000) on the 25th. How many more words do I expect to get before November’s up? Well, at most I expect to reach 60,000 … but even that would be a stretch.
I think I have that much material story-wise … but I might not finish At Her Fingertips this month. I might write ‘The End’ sometime in the first week of December. But, in my opinion, that’s a worse-case scenario. 😉
Now, before I go (short post, I know, but I want to get back to writing!), your excerpt and quote, m’lady (or … sir):
An excerpt from Chapter Twenty-One of At Her Fingertips
Alice waltzed in Gibson’s arms and tried not to think about Peter – Mr. Strauss – and what he’d said to her.
You could never be stupid. When Gibson complimented her (which was getting more and more often now), he complimented the way she looked. Not that she would have protested if what he said was true, but it wasn’t. She didn’t like his lying. If he couldn’t compliment her truthfully, he’d best not compliment her at all.
But Peter … Mr. Strauss … had worked his way around her defects of face and form and complimented her truthfully – or at least he thought it was truthful; she could see in his eyes that he definitely thought what he said was true. That was nice of him. If she forgot his name and face some day, she’d remember that.
“You seem distracted tonight,” Gibson whispered, too close to her ear.
Alice drew back slightly. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
Alice stared up at him for a minute. “I’m not beautiful,” she said.
“Women always say that,” he scoffed.
“But I mean it. I know I’m not beautiful. Please admit it.”
Gibson stared at for a minute, perhaps saw sincerity in her eyes, and smiled. “All right. I admit it. You’re not beautiful. But you have an interesting expression in your eyes and an intriguing freshness. I want to be near you.”
Alice drew back farther, nearly dancing at arms length from him. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
He pulled her closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, but you asked for honesty, and I could see you wanted it.”
“I did want it. But the reasons you like me are not the ones I was looking for.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.” She didn’t tell him that he’d have to live with her personality and her opinions and her beliefs for the rest of his life if they married. He could figure that out himself if he had any brain worthwhile in his head.
“If there’s anything on your mind, I’d like to know about it. We need to practice communication. I know. My mother’s already started lecturing me on the subject,” he said teasingly.
Alice scowled. She wasn’t ready for this. She thought she’d been ready for this – more than ready – but she wasn’t. Why must he rush things? They’d barely just met; she barely knew him. Yet she knew him longer than she knew Peter – Mr. Strauss – and she felt as if she knew him very well. Perhaps it was because she’d discussed religion with him, and that was what was at her soul. Perhaps if she brought it up with Gibson …
“Mr. Ashfield, I’ve enjoyed seeing you at church these last several weeks … did you hear anything interesting in the sermon last week?”
Gibson laughed merrily. “Nobody listens to that old man talk,” he laughed.
Alice frowned. “I do.”
“Of course you do, my sweet little Puritan maid.”
“Trust me, I’m not a ‘sweet little Puritan maid,’ least of all yours. But, Mr. Ashfield, haven’t you any relationship with God? It’s so important.”
“I believe He exists. And … let me see? How does the verse go? The one about believing that everyone quotes?”
“Maybe. You can probably recite it for me.”
“‘For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.’”
“That’s it. And I do believe He exists, so that makes me a Christian.”
“I don’t think that’s what it means, exactly.”
“Of course it is. What else could it mean?”
Alice, whose head had begun to ache, decided not to reply just then. There will be plenty of time to talk to him about these things after you’re married, she assured herself. Just concentrate on the marriage now; later he will change. You’ll make him change. You’ll show him the truth. God will understand.
“Perhaps it does,” said Alice.
Constructive criticism is welcome … nay, expected! (Just kidding … but, seriously, comment!)
“The truth is too good for him!” ~Alice Knight, At Her Fingertips
Thanks for reading,