First Wednesday June IWSG Better Late Than Never

 

IWSG

 

 I missed my First Wednesday monthly post! First time in I don’t know how long. My life is in flux. So I guess that means my posting must be too, a bit. Not totally, but a bit. Right now I feel I am sitting on a precipice looking out over all the possibilities my future might hold, or not. It isn’t a bad feeling, but not a great one either. Change is inevitable in any life. How I choose to deal with it is what matters. I want to dive in, drink it in, take it by the cahones and really indulge in living whatever comes next. This takes bravery. This takes courage.

I seek a new path and that is scary for me but have learned to do it anyway. Years ago I went on a year-long adventure to Europe. I was 21 and traveled alone. When I returned I didn’t talk much about the trip with anyone, due to feeling embarrassed because I’d been so scared most of the time I was gone. My mother, wise woman that she is, pulled me aside and asked, “What does it matter how scared you were? You did the trip didn’t you? Did anyone else you know go with you when you asked? Did anyone else do what you did? Why are you not proud of that accomplishment? Not everyone can or will do what you did.”

I remember crying when I heard her words. Why did I dismiss what I had accomplished with such embarrassment? To this day it is hard for me to give myself “credit” for what I do, so I have learned to push through. To measure myself by what I do, not how afraid I am of doing it.

So here I go. Wish me luck!

IWSG Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer

Twitter hashtag is #IWSG

The awesome co-hosts for the June 1 posting of the IWSG are Murees Dupe, Alexia Chamberlynn, Chemist Ken, and Heather Gardner!  

Image by: kellyjohnsongracenotes.com

Gumption

Gumption. It is a word full of itself, full of daring and courage.

In this scene, our heroine’s gumption is tested after a failed attempt at escape.

He whipped her around to face him, his frigid blue eyes daring her to try it again. Hysterically she wished he’d put his glasses back on. She gulped air. “A-are y-you going t-to k-kill me?” She hated herself for stuttering like a fool.

     He didn’t move. She was afraid to take her eyes off him. Afraid of what he could do now that he had her alone. Why, why, why, her mind wailed in the smothering silence. “A-are you?”

     “Not yet.”

     Oh no.

     He nodded behind her. “Sit over there.”

     He pointed to a lovely round wooden table encircled by elegantly carved chairs. She stumbled over to it, her heart in her throat, never taking her eyes off of him.

     “Sit.”

     Celia sat. He opened the door, grabbed her bags, shut the door again, then came and peeled off her coat. “It’s not too late to let me go.”

     He ignored her, leaving her mind to leap from one horror to another, one stupid question to another, like, if he were a killer wouldn’t she already be dead? Stupid, stupid question. That could only mean one thing. Once upon a forgotten time she had experienced the unthinkable, the unbelievable, and since then she’d made sure her closest encounters with villains were in the books she wrote, and they were always historical figures, warriors or Romans. This man was clearly neither one, and yet he had the slight indentation of a long thin scar above his left eye, below his brow; an indication of the violence in the man, and her fate?

     She shivered again, her chest tight with dread. She had reason to fear, had reason to imagine the worst.

     Then, as if it he had a habit of it, he began to tie her to the chair. “No!” She jumped up and into the first rage she’d known in years. “No, I won’t let you!” Little good the rage did her. He pinned her arms with no effort, as if he’d expected her to fight, but she kicked and struggled against him anyway. This time when he set her back in the chair her tears won.

     “Don’t start.”

     “I can’t stop.”

     “I don’t want to hear it.”

     “I don’t care!” Celia had no idea what bug of self destruction bit her, but anger welled within her again, righteous anger, dangerous anger, could-get-her-killed-right-now anger. It overwhelmed her fear, blocked it out for one sweet instant. There were some things worse than death. She jerked her arms to make it harder for him. “I don’t want to be tied up.”

     He leaned down and brought those icebergs close enough to her face for frostbite. “Get used to it.”

©2011

The fact that through her fear Celia can still think clearly, still react in spite of the danger, shows her gumption, her courage, and will help sustain her through her ordeal, we hope! What about your heroine/hero? Do they have the gumption to make it through what life throws at them, and if so, how will they put that gumption, that courage to work?

Images from:

www.superherolife.com

principledliving.net