Earlier, my boyfriend was watching The Best Man and proposed a question: “As a writer, how plausible do you think the situation of him exposing himself through his book could actually happen?” To this question, I answered, “It happens. A lot of authors write stories close to what they’ve/family/friends been through. Where he messed up at is making the characters too close to the real people. *laughing emoji* Although fictional, it’s true. Can writers get sued for that? I’m curious. But anyway, with all of the stories I’ve written, I never really had the desire to tell too personal of stories, meaning using myself, friends, or family as characters. If anything, I’ll match a character trait or two because who is a writer without the influence of their personal experiences? Hell, if I learned anything during my Master’s program or life in general, your personal experience shapes the best of your work. But, let’s be real. Harper was wilding out. And he was guilty as f*ck. Why would your best friend NOT read your book? And, good job taking that experience to the grave, bruh.
I get a kick out of creating characters from scratch. How they look, what they wear, how they speak, how their homes look. Developing character sketches is challenging but a big part of the creative progress. For me, revisiting those sketches helped me to get through those three chapters I drafted in grad school. Chapters? Chapters for what, you ask?
Yes.
I am writing a novel.
I still feels funny saying that out loud. I feel so accomplished with those 10,000+ words, but I know I have to keep going. This writing stuff is not just a hobby for me. This is the career that I have been longing for. I can see myself with the home office, with the wall-to-wall bookshelves and every journal of ever known stacked up on my desk. I can see myself doing reading at Barnes and Noble and signing books. I also see myself writing featured stories for different media outlets as the upcoming author that everyone wants to see. This is years and years in the making, but mostly my journey through self-doubt and allowing people and other external factors to sway me from my dream. It was always, I have to work the job the world thinks is best, go to school for the degree that the world sees fit (which is none quite frankly in this economy *rolls eyes*), hustle, hustle, pay them bills, blah blah blah. I could go on and on. Going to graduate school and choosing the major I’ve always wanted to do was my talk-back to all of that. Me finally putting my foot down. Trying to get a gig is writing full-time is another hurdle, but we will focus on the positive! I had to do this for me. I realized I could do anything I put my all into.
And just that has inspired the creation of April Carrington Lewis, the main character of Anemone Bloomed.
Other things like the importance of female friendships, self realization, and the longing for inner peace inspired this story, as I find that these themes have been the story of my life… of every black girl/young woman’s life, if you ask me.
Anemone Bloomed is a story that will touch lightly on love, family, and grief, but the premise of it is how young black women navigate through life dependent on friendship. April is moving through life the best way she could alongside her best friends, Robyn and Chrysalis. She then meets her love interest on the train. The two will end up in a relationship, but tension will rise once April begins drifting away from her best friends, missing dates, phone calls, and, most importantly, signs of despair. Chrysalis learns a secret about Brandon that could potentially end the relationship, but it instead builds a wedge between her and April. The girls fall apart forcing themselves to navigate life alone until tragedy hits! A near-death experience brings them back together and they realize the importance of friendship and just how quickly life can change. April learns that it is better to face the realities of life than to live in a dream.
As I move on to Chapter four and beyond, I want more for my girls, especially April. It’s almost like fulfilling something… for me.
Hmm…
Character sketches coming soon, but for now, here’s a little glimpse:
The dim-lit bar smelled of hot wings, beer, and sweat as April scrambled through a crowd of suits and button-ups with rolled up sleeves to find Chrysalis and Robyn. What she loved most about Luke’s however was the 90’s music. All the plaster screens on the exposed brick walls were on MTV Classics. No Doubt’s “Don’t Speak” blared through the speakers. She thought of her days running home to watch videos after school, convinced that she was the main girl in the videos. If April did anything, it was getting lost in her dreams or fantasizing what her life could be rather than what it was. She couldn’t get Dread’s face out of her head, let alone the face of that old man. Although the kiss unreal, she wished it could have been. She hoped she would run into him again although she knew nothing of him. Maybe I’ll see him on the Q again, she thought, spotting her best friends at the end of the wet bar.
“Ladies!” She unwrapped her scarf and propped her tote on the empty stool they saved for her.
“Hey girl”, Chrysalis winked at April, taking a swig of her Blue Moon. Her wavy honey blonde hair was pulled in a ponytail down to her backside, with a Yankee cap. “Today was a long ass day, bruh. I almost dragged this bit… I mean, girl.” She rolled her eyes when April giggled. She was working on her profanity. At four foot eleven with a full figure, she packed a lot of punch. From her grey sweats and black and white Jordans, April could tell she worked one of her odd-end jobs today. Her pale skin grew red with the last gulp of beer. From the line of beers near her, April wondered out loud if she had enough.
“Uh, don’t you think you had enough, Chrys? You got five empty bottles in front of you.” April gestured with a head nod.
“Don’t worry ‘bout that, Ma. I’m good. I worked all day. Plus, I want to be nice and sleepy when I get home. Don’t wanna nothing my mom has to say.” Chrysalis replied, rolling her eyes, and waving over the bartender. April sighed, looking over at Robyn whose head was still down in her phone. Chrysalis caught her gaze.
“She was like that since we got here. Get off the phone, Ms. White!” Chrysalis elbowed her.
“Ouch! Excuse me, ya’ll. I’m tryna finish this email for Henry. You know how he gets. How you doing, April? How was work today? Can I get a water with lemon?” Robyn was all over the place, speaking to April and pointing at the waiting bartender.
Her southern drawl amused April who laughed at her request. A type-A perfectionist and workaholic, Robyn sat in a crème blazer with matching slacks. Her caramel-brown pixie slicked back. Her Kate Spade tote was placed neatly on a napkin at the edge of the bar. The only free time she had was these two hours, working 10 hours a day and sticking to a strict fitness schedule.
“A water?! Sir give this girl a Heineken or something, please. A damn water.” Chrysalis scoffed.
Til the kiss on the frontal lobe flies,
Ella.
The Daily Ella 