Raven

Introduction to my happenstance Raven pilot...

INT. RAVEN’S SOUTH MIAMI, FL LOFT – DAY

RAVEN THOMAS (32), a beautiful yet emotionally distressed interior designer lays in bed. She stares up at the ceiling as her fiancé JARED (36), a skinny Life Insurance Salesman with a dimpled chin lays next to her asleep. Raven covers her forehead with her left hand and counts backward from five. When the sound of her rattling SEVEN AM alarm jars in, Raven sighs. As Jared shuffles in bed next to her, Raven stares up at her diamond engagement ring.

JARED

Can you turn that off please?

RAVEN runs her fingers through her hair and then sighs again. Slamming her hand down on the top of her alarm clock, Raven pulls her blanket from her and then sits up.

MOVE with Raven as she saunters into her bathroom. As she stares at herself in her bathroom mirror, Raven wipes the single tear from her eyelid. Raven then fixes the straps of her silk slip. When her left hand covers the name LANGSTON tattooed across her shoulder, Raven stares at her engagement ring again and then trembles.

RAVEN runs the water of her white Barclay pedestal sink, leans down and then throws a puddle of lukewarm water in her face. Taking a deep, Raven stands up straight and then jumps when she sees Jared’s reflection.

JARED

Having a bad morning?

RAVEN

(smiling a fake smile and shrugging her shoulders)

I’m OK, I guess.

Jared turns Raven around, takes hold of Raven’s hand and then kisses inside of her palm.

JARED

You are still up for this marriage thing right?

Raven

(nodding)

Of course. I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t. Go back to bed. You know how I hate mornings.   

Jared smiles a nervous grin before he and Raven share a kiss. Jared stares at Raven for a moment while he grazes his fingertips over the back of her hand. When Raven smiles a nervous grin of her own, Jared kisses inside her palm once more and then walks back into their bedroom. After Jared slips back into their bed and then pulls the blanket over his head, Raven turns back to her reflection and then sighs.

RAVEN

You can do this, Raven. You’re going to be happy as Raven Thomas-Smith. It has a nice ring to it.

(staring at her engagement ring)

Ring…yeah, nice ring to it.

Sighing again, Raven shuts off the running sink water and then walks back into her bedroom. When Raven’s phone vibrates across her nightstand, Raven checks the caller ID and then glances over at Jared. When Jared doesn’t move, Raven picks up her phone and then slides into her robe.

RAVEN

I’m going to check the mailbox real fast.

Raven doesn’t wait for a response as she quickly walks out of their bedroom, through their living room and out their front door. Hurriedly ducking into the quiet stairwell, Raven answers her phone.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Hello?

TONI RICHARDS (31), Raven’s pretty and quirky best friend, speaks through the phone in a groggy tone.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

Are you in the stairwell again?

RAVEN

(into phone, rolls her eyes)

Where were you last night?

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

At home where I was supposed to be.

RAVEN

(into phone)

What kind of best friend are you?

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

The type that doesn’t involve herself in obvious ploys of last ditch attempts at making this farce seem real.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Toni, what do you think I’m doing here? Jared and I have been dating for close to two years now.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

Whose fault is that?

RAVEN

(into phone)

Are you serious right now? I mean, did you seriously miss my engagement party on purpose. Who does that? I can fire you from your best friend duties you know. Jared’s sister Cameron has been itching to take your spot.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, laughs)

You’re not crazy.

RAVEN

(into phone)

I thought I could say the same thing about you but clearly you’re crazy if you were really sitting on your couch watching reruns of Reno 911. Anyone who spends their nights watching reruns of Reno 911 in order to miss their best friend’s engagement party is clearly the crazy one.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

You’re the one hiding in your stairwell just so you can have a normal conversation with your best friend! Get out of hiding. I know you gave him some silly excuse to get out of there. What are you supposed to be doing right now, checking the mail on a Sunday?

RAVEN

(sucks her teeth into the phone)

If you know me so well then you should know how mad I am at you for missing my engagement party because you have some inexplicable hatred for my now fiancé.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

I don’t hate him, I hate your relationship. Tell me this, Raven. If you’re so in love with your new fiancé, why haven’t you covered up the tattoo yet.

Raven held her hand over the tattoo of Langston’s name and then chewed on her bottom lip.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, laughs)

Exactly. When you stop lying to yourself, maybe—

RAVEN

(into phone)

He’s dead, Toni! Do you get that? It’s been four years and Langston isn’t coming back. Am I supposed to create some sort of shrine of my late husband, sit on my closet floor and rock back and forth while clutching a picture of him in my hand? He’s dead. I’ve accepted it; I need to move on.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, sighs)

Fine, Raven. Move on.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Don’t say it like that.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, unconvincingly)

No…I’m happy for you. You found someone that made you happy and I’m happy for you.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Whatever, Toni. We’re planning to have a dinner tomorrow night in honor of us and—

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

How many parties do you two need to have? You see, it’s when you do things like this that I question your relationship. Who are you trying to convince with these obnoxious engagement parties?

RAVEN

(Rolls her eyes, into phone)

Look, I expect you to be there. If for any reason, any reason at all you don’t show up, don’t bother calling me again.

Raven hangs up the phone and then takes a deep breath. Dropping her phone into the pocket of her robe, Raven leaves the stairwell and trots back into her loft. When she enters, she sees Jared standing at the kitchen counter scrambling a bowl of eggs.

RAVEN

(smiling)

No mail.

As Raven walks toward the bedroom, Jared drops his fork and then circles around their antique kitchen island to turn Raven around to face him.

JARED

You know you can tell me if you’re not up to this.

RAVEN

(holds Jared’s hands and then kisses his cheek)

I’m ready to remarry.

JARED

Are you sure? Even though you put on a brave face for our guests yesterday, I heard you crying in the bathroom last night.

RAVEN

(lets Jared’s hands go and frowns)

You heard that?

JARED

Your husband died four years ago. I can understand if you want to postpone things. I just hope you’re not using this marriage to try to normalize things. I want this to be right. I love you, Raven. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m sure of that but I can understand if you’re not yet.

RAVEN

I’m fine, Jared. I love you too and I’m sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you too. I also hope to have some eggs before I head to my office.

JARED smiles reluctantly and then walks back to the kitchen. Raven rubs the back of her neck as she pulls in her lips. As she stares at the back of Jared’s back, she wipes away the mate to the single tear that strolled down her cheek earlier. Taking a deep breath, Raven rubs the area of her tattoo and then begins to walk back to her bedroom.

JARED

I made the appointment with the dermatologist.

Raven stops walking and attempts to fake a smile as she turns around to face Jared’s back.

RAVEN

Excuse me?

JARED

Tomorrow. I scheduled it during your lunch break. The doctor assured me it’s quick, non-invasive and painless.

Realizing that Raven stands behind him in silence, Jared drops his shoulders and then turns around to face his fiancé.

JARED (CONT’D)

If you expect me to believe you when you tell me that you’re ready for this, you have to show me that you’re ready to let him go. How do you think it makes me feel when I have to look at that while I make love to you? I’ve accepted the fact that I won’t be your first husband even though you’ll be my first wife. But, if you’re up to setting up a life with me, he can’t come with us.

Raven continues to smile a strained smile as she raises her shoulders.

RAVEN

OK, tomorrow at noon. It’s a date!

Jared purses his lips and then nods. When he turns around, Raven quickly turns around and walks into her bedroom as the flood of tears pour down. As her knees begin to buckle, Raven darts into her bathroom, closes the door behind her and then falls to the floor. She covers her mouth as she whimpers. Raven scratches at her tattoo as she shakes her head and grits her teeth. Pulling her knees up to her chin, Raven lowers her head between her knees and then tugs at the roots of her hair. Raven shakes as she taps her feet on the tile floor.

RAVEN (V.O.)

(whispering)

The car accident was all your fault He’s never coming back. Why’d you make him drink. He’s never coming back. Everybody blames you. He’s never coming back. He’s never coming back.

While she trembles, Raven ignores the initial sound of a knock at the door. Wiping her face and sucking on her bottom lip, Raven stands up and then turns on the sink water. When the knock continues, Raven takes a deep breath and then throws a puddle of water in her face.

RAVEN

(voice cracks)

Yes, honey.

JARED

(through the door, filtered) 

There’s someone at the door for you.

Raven shuts off the water and then checks her phone. When she sees Toni’s missed call, she takes another deep breath. Opening the door, Raven notices the look of distress on Jared’s face—the typical look of distress that Jared displayed whenever Toni was around.

RAVEN

Is it Toni?

Move with Raven as she walks through their bedroom and then into their living room. When Raven notices the tall, well-dressed man standing at her front door, Raven whirls around to face her fiancé.

JARED

He says he’s your husband.

Raven watches Jared’s lips and then closes her eyes. As her breaths shorten, Raven turns back around to face the tall, broad shouldered man standing in front of her door. Raven tightens the belt of her silk robe as she covers her mouth and allows the tears in her eyes to return.

RAVEN

(dropping her hand to her side)

Langston?   

LANGSTON THOMAS (32), Raven’s husband stands in front of her door wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of denim blue jeans. His shoes were freshly polished and his goatee crisply shaven. As if he’s been alive and well all those years, Langston smiles warmly at Raven.

RAVEN (CONT’D)

You’re alive?

LANGSTON

(licks his lips and moves closer)

I’m not a ghost, Rave.INT. RAVEN’S SOUTH MIAMI, FL LOFT – DAY

RAVEN THOMAS (32), a beautiful yet emotionally distressed interior designer lays in bed. She stares up at the ceiling as her fiancé JARED (36), a skinny Life Insurance Salesman with a dimpled chin lays next to her asleep. Raven covers her forehead with her left hand and counts backward from five. When the sound of her rattling SEVEN AM alarm jars in, Raven sighs. As Jared shuffles in bed next to her, Raven stares up at her diamond engagement ring.

JARED

Can you turn that off please?

RAVEN runs her fingers through her hair and then sighs again. Slamming her hand down on the top of her alarm clock, Raven pulls her blanket from her and then sits up.

MOVE with Raven as she saunters into her bathroom. As she stares at herself in her bathroom mirror, Raven wipes the single tear from her eyelid. Raven then fixes the straps of her silk slip. When her left hand covers the name LANGSTON tattooed across her shoulder, Raven stares at her engagement ring again and then trembles.

RAVEN runs the water of her white Barclay pedestal sink, leans down and then throws a puddle of lukewarm water in her face. Taking a deep, Raven stands up straight and then jumps when she sees Jared’s reflection.

JARED

Having a bad morning?

RAVEN

(smiling a fake smile and shrugging her shoulders)

I’m OK, I guess.

Jared turns Raven around, takes hold of Raven’s hand and then kisses inside of her palm.

JARED

You are still up for this marriage thing right?

Raven

(nodding)

Of course. I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t. Go back to bed. You know how I hate mornings.   

Jared smiles a nervous grin before he and Raven share a kiss. Jared stares at Raven for a moment while he grazes his fingertips over the back of her hand. When Raven smiles a nervous grin of her own, Jared kisses inside her palm once more and then walks back into their bedroom. After Jared slips back into their bed and then pulls the blanket over his head, Raven turns back to her reflection and then sighs.

RAVEN

You can do this, Raven. You’re going to be happy as Raven Thomas-Smith. It has a nice ring to it.

(staring at her engagement ring)

Ring…yeah, nice ring to it.

Sighing again, Raven shuts off the running sink water and then walks back into her bedroom. When Raven’s phone vibrates across her nightstand, Raven checks the caller ID and then glances over at Jared. When Jared doesn’t move, Raven picks up her phone and then slides into her robe.

RAVEN

I’m going to check the mailbox real fast.

Raven doesn’t wait for a response as she quickly walks out of their bedroom, through their living room and out their front door. Hurriedly ducking into the quiet stairwell, Raven answers her phone.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Hello?

TONI RICHARDS (31), Raven’s pretty and quirky best friend, speaks through the phone in a groggy tone.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

Are you in the stairwell again?

RAVEN

(into phone, rolls her eyes)

Where were you last night?

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

At home where I was supposed to be.

RAVEN

(into phone)

What kind of best friend are you?

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

The type that doesn’t involve herself in obvious ploys of last ditch attempts at making this farce seem real.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Toni, what do you think I’m doing here? Jared and I have been dating for close to two years now.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

Whose fault is that?

RAVEN

(into phone)

Are you serious right now? I mean, did you seriously miss my engagement party on purpose. Who does that? I can fire you from your best friend duties you know. Jared’s sister Cameron has been itching to take your spot.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, laughs)

You’re not crazy.

RAVEN

(into phone)

I thought I could say the same thing about you but clearly you’re crazy if you were really sitting on your couch watching reruns of Reno 911. Anyone who spends their nights watching reruns of Reno 911 in order to miss their best friend’s engagement party is clearly the crazy one.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

You’re the one hiding in your stairwell just so you can have a normal conversation with your best friend! Get out of hiding. I know you gave him some silly excuse to get out of there. What are you supposed to be doing right now, checking the mail on a Sunday?

RAVEN

(sucks her teeth into the phone)

If you know me so well then you should know how mad I am at you for missing my engagement party because you have some inexplicable hatred for my now fiancé.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

I don’t hate him, I hate your relationship. Tell me this, Raven. If you’re so in love with your new fiancé, why haven’t you covered up the tattoo yet.

Raven held her hand over the tattoo of Langston’s name and then chewed on her bottom lip.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, laughs)

Exactly. When you stop lying to yourself, maybe—

RAVEN

(into phone)

He’s dead, Toni! Do you get that? It’s been four years and Langston isn’t coming back. Am I supposed to create some sort of shrine of my late husband, sit on my closet floor and rock back and forth while clutching a picture of him in my hand? He’s dead. I’ve accepted it; I need to move on.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, sighs)

Fine, Raven. Move on.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Don’t say it like that.

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered, unconvincingly)

No…I’m happy for you. You found someone that made you happy and I’m happy for you.

RAVEN

(into phone)

Whatever, Toni. We’re planning to have a dinner tomorrow night in honor of us and—

TONI (V.O.)

(over phone, filtered)

How many parties do you two need to have? You see, it’s when you do things like this that I question your relationship. Who are you trying to convince with these obnoxious engagement parties?

RAVEN

(Rolls her eyes, into phone)

Look, I expect you to be there. If for any reason, any reason at all you don’t show up, don’t bother calling me again.

Raven hangs up the phone and then takes a deep breath. Dropping her phone into the pocket of her robe, Raven leaves the stairwell and trots back into her loft. When she enters, she sees Jared standing at the kitchen counter scrambling a bowl of eggs.

RAVEN

(smiling)

No mail.

As Raven walks toward the bedroom, Jared drops his fork and then circles around their antique kitchen island to turn Raven around to face him.

JARED

You know you can tell me if you’re not up to this.

RAVEN

(holds Jared’s hands and then kisses his cheek)

I’m ready to remarry.

JARED

Are you sure? Even though you put on a brave face for our guests yesterday, I heard you crying in the bathroom last night.

RAVEN

(lets Jared’s hands go and frowns)

You heard that?

JARED

Your husband died four years ago. I can understand if you want to postpone things. I just hope you’re not using this marriage to try to normalize things. I want this to be right. I love you, Raven. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m sure of that but I can understand if you’re not yet.

RAVEN

I’m fine, Jared. I love you too and I’m sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you too. I also hope to have some eggs before I head to my office.

JARED smiles reluctantly and then walks back to the kitchen. Raven rubs the back of her neck as she pulls in her lips. As she stares at the back of Jared’s back, she wipes away the mate to the single tear that strolled down her cheek earlier. Taking a deep breath, Raven rubs the area of her tattoo and then begins to walk back to her bedroom.

JARED

I made the appointment with the dermatologist.

Raven stops walking and attempts to fake a smile as she turns around to face Jared’s back.

RAVEN

Excuse me?

JARED

Tomorrow. I scheduled it during your lunch break. The doctor assured me it’s quick, non-invasive and painless.

Realizing that Raven stands behind him in silence, Jared drops his shoulders and then turns around to face his fiancé.

JARED (CONT’D)

If you expect me to believe you when you tell me that you’re ready for this, you have to show me that you’re ready to let him go. How do you think it makes me feel when I have to look at that while I make love to you? I’ve accepted the fact that I won’t be your first husband even though you’ll be my first wife. But, if you’re up to setting up a life with me, he can’t come with us.

Raven continues to smile a strained smile as she raises her shoulders.

RAVEN

OK, tomorrow at noon. It’s a date!

Jared purses his lips and then nods. When he turns around, Raven quickly turns around and walks into her bedroom as the flood of tears pour down. As her knees begin to buckle, Raven darts into her bathroom, closes the door behind her and then falls to the floor. She covers her mouth as she whimpers. Raven scratches at her tattoo as she shakes her head and grits her teeth. Pulling her knees up to her chin, Raven lowers her head between her knees and then tugs at the roots of her hair. Raven shakes as she taps her feet on the tile floor.

RAVEN (V.O.)

(whispering)

The car accident was all your fault He’s never coming back. Why’d you make him drink. He’s never coming back. Everybody blames you. He’s never coming back. He’s never coming back.

While she trembles, Raven ignores the initial sound of a knock at the door. Wiping her face and sucking on her bottom lip, Raven stands up and then turns on the sink water. When the knock continues, Raven takes a deep breath and then throws a puddle of water in her face.

RAVEN

(voice cracks)

Yes, honey.

JARED

(through the door, filtered) 

There’s someone at the door for you.

Raven shuts off the water and then checks her phone. When she sees Toni’s missed call, she takes another deep breath. Opening the door, Raven notices the look of distress on Jared’s face—the typical look of distress that Jared displayed whenever Toni was around.

RAVEN

Is it Toni?

Move with Raven as she walks through their bedroom and then into their living room. When Raven notices the tall, well-dressed man standing at her front door, Raven whirls around to face her fiancé.

JARED

He says he’s your husband.

Raven watches Jared’s lips and then closes her eyes. As her breaths shorten, Raven turns back around to face the tall, broad shouldered man standing in front of her door. Raven tightens the belt of her silk robe as she covers her mouth and allows the tears in her eyes to return.

RAVEN

(dropping her hand to her side)

Langston?   

LANGSTON THOMAS (32), Raven’s husband stands in front of her door wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of denim blue jeans. His shoes were freshly polished and his goatee crisply shaven. As if he’s been alive and well all those years, Langston smiles warmly at Raven.

RAVEN (CONT’D)

You’re alive?

LANGSTON

(licks his lips and moves closer)

I’m not a ghost, Rave.

Punch Drunk Love

Black Dolce and Gabana shades cover the evidence of false truths and broken dreams

I step into the dewy presence of an arrogant sun that beats down upon my skin

Wickedly attempting to reveal the secrets hiding beneath my hundred dollar lenses

I walk atop cracked pavement in five-inch stilettos,

Frantically reaching higher than the low I have succumbed myself to

Diamond encrusted bangles wrap around purple fingerprints embedded in my wrists

These expensive embellishments suit me better than the bad memories left behind

They resemble the platinum, diamond dipped choker draped about my esophagus

Coyly permitting my breathless oxygen to exist

Alexander McQueen gently caresses my red and blue spotted skin

The click of my heels sings a tune often forgotten amongst the loud thuds enclosed within bleeding walls

Darkness follows along the bright, indignant rays of this still arrogant sun

The only light shining radiates from the glimmer of the wedding band on his finger as he berates my face

The morning after, a haughty gift box graces the mahogany night table

Chuckling through the small glimpses of prying sun light peeking through 500 thread count, Italian curtains

He, the he that shares the name I call my own, greets me with warm smiles

Warm like the supple flames of Dante’s Inferno

Sweet kisses, sweet as the bitter taste of tarnished fantasies adorning the tattered folds of my mentality

Sapphire jewels exaggerate teardrop rings

Devaluing the fading merit I once held

Frugality’s meaning holds true in the force of his love, personified in the impact of his hits

I, the me that hides behind the barrenness of materialistic significances, has been bought out and sold

I am price less

Still, he prices more to define the blood that hemorrhages internally

Sorrow is invisible yet it leaks and stains the fibers of a hand-knotted Persian carpet

Nevertheless, love is the only drug that emits into the thick air trapped within a bar-less prison

Retail Therapy

One pair of Christian Louboutin pumps

The way the red bottoms compliment the black pavement forces my subconscious to accept the use of one full paycheck at the outlet mall

Two pairs of Christian Dior denim jeans,

Only because of the modesty in which it swathes my booty

The curious eyes that follow my strut implores me to walk slower

To ensure they also obtain a decent glance at my Gucci shades

The hidden bundles of misguided nickels and dimes secured beneath pompous couch cushions made it all possible

These sleek, while modish frames speak the names of insecure girls picked last in dodge ball

Finding their claim to fame amongst costly namesakes and gaudy materials

This silk blouse, hand sewn right from the infants of moths

Tenderly pacing the pores of my skin

Showing the world how shapely my breast form while lying under Chiffon fabric

I am the queen of Sheba upon leaving the crowded parking lot of International Mall

For the diamonds embedded within my crown are cut so clear,

The reflection of your judgmental yet highly envious insides shine ever so brightly

My Prada boots reaffirm the well-known fact that I am better than you

Silent miseries ring false within the luminosity that are my jewels

Encrusted in the humble embellishments accenting my fingers and earlobes

A second pair of Christian Louboutins

Shoes this heavenly ought to come in fours

The higher the heel the closer I am to retail sanity

Constantly repeating the task of stabilizing my raging emotions

Attempting to reach the dressed up image of an overrated socialite

While lying on a therapeutical bench trying on shoes, I pay my doctor’s fees at the register

My prescription written out within the numbers of my American Express

My cure,

The palpable joy of a fully stocked walk-in closet

Poor Girl

Haven't written a poem in a while....

Love me.

Take from me the brittle reminders of my pain and

Adore me

Give me the clandestine affection left uncovered

Though coveted, the desire for joy remains forgotten

Nevertheless, I hide anger behind plastered smiles

The dried white stains of gushing teardrops lay beneath the wrinkles in my laugh

Haughty, boisterous laughs that bounce off peeling walls

Dirty carpets soak up the dirt from my anguish and the hurt from my self-pity

Therefore, you must love me.

Fall to your knees and beg for the pleasure I crave to give yet I,

Turn up my nose and fold heavy arms over a heaving chest

Short breaths take bathroom breaks while I pretend to care less

You’ll work for my love though I have given it freely to less than worthy suitors

Still, you’ll crawl on your weak hands and scraped shins

A drained sense of purpose will weigh heavily on your shoulders

My quick tongue will cut your intentions in half

Split between the will to proceed but

The truth behind the glint in my eyes will encourage you to

Love me.

Remove me from the poverty that exists within cold walls

Tall dividers with transparent thickness giving you the opportunity to see

what I surreptitiously tells others to see

I bat my eyes and sneak nuggets of veracity between the creases of my breasts

Leaned forward at eye-level,

Judgment level.

See through the lies I tell myself and

love me.

Fall to your knees, clasp your palms to your chest while your quivering jaw tips backward

Tilt your eyes upward and query for divine intervention

for me.

And when you have me,

Strip me of the deceptions that cloud my sense of clarity

Take from me the insecurities that sully me and

Do what only you, toucher of the depth of my essence can do and

Love me.

Get to Know Me

I was reading over Toni Morris's writing process and the rituals she engages in before she begins writing and I found myself thoroughly enlightened. She spends quite a bit of time, almost two years, getting to know her characters and their circumstances before she begins to construct the language of the book. She stated, "I've spent a couple of years, probably eighteen months, just thinking about these people, the circumstances, the whole architecture of the book, and I sort of feel so intimately connected with the place and the people and the events that when language does arrive, I'm pretty much ready." Lately, before I start writing my novels, I develop an outline that forces me to think about the main characters of my book--names, occupations, hobbies, background. It's a quick, one page outline that I often go back and reference during the writing process. In the past, I'd just write and let the story come to me as I wrote; however, that has often left me altering the character's dynamics because I never had a blueprint for the character to begin with. 

When readers engulf themselves in my work, or any work for that matter, they connect with the characters. The single mother or the emotionally conflicted drug dealer is a real person for the reader and they connect with the character's mannerisms, actions and history, and as a writer, it is important that the character remains consistent. The moment the character starts off as a sassy, independent single mother with a heart of gold and then ends up as a weak-minded neglectful parent with a devious side is the moment the reader pulls away from the read and questions the writer's ability. Yes, there are going to be to the times where a character will evolve throughout the course of a novel, but it has to be believable. Everything in the character's past must culminate into who this character is evolving into, and the second something doesn't make sense is the second the reader catches on. I'd like to think that I write to a smart, sexy and detail oriented bunch of readers that can't be fooled by my foolish inconsistencies so it's important that I get to know my characters. 

I'm almost done editing my novel Dealing Broken Promises and I've already written the outline for two more novels. I'm excited because I've spent a lot of time thinking about my characters. I've spent so much time rewriting and revising because I've spent a large amount of time crafting my characters in a way that is true to their title and that often involves the act of revamping an entire scene or section of dialogue in a way that seems more realistic. I think about my characters as more than just names on a page but real people with real issues. If my character was real, what would he or she be doing right now? I want to take the Toni Morrison approach and spend more time getting to know my characters to the point where their old friends, old lovers, long-lost family members that I've reconnected with. Ultimately, by getting to know my characters, I am doing my readers a great service. For example, they know Erin would say that or do this because that's in her character, they know her. 

So, as a writer, get to know your characters and their circumstances so well that when your readers cozy up to your novel, they know your character just as well as you do. 

Writers and Storytellers

As I continue to write my books Dealin' Broken Promises, previously titled Black Caesar, I've spent a lot of time reading a number of other books. As a writer, it is important to read. In the past, when asked to read something I'd always turn my nose up and reply, "I'm a writer, not a reader." First mistake, and a quite grave one at that. As a writer, reading allows you the chance to see your work from a different perspective. It gets you out of the rut you may be in when writing the same line, plot thrust, or whatever roadblock in your writing that prevents you from moving forward and developing that next publishable work. Hence, if you're a writer, then you absolutely must be a reader.

On that note, as I read other works I found myself turning into a grammar snob. I approach other writers' works with the notion that, "Ugh, I could've written this better," or  "Ugh, this author's book, riddled with poor grammar, isn't worth the publish. Why not me instead?" Shame on me. Of course this author wouldn't have written this book like me because the author is not me and this author does not approach the art of authoring quite like me. Hence why that author is published and I am simply but a reader. Nevertheless, I've come to the realization that the reason why I approach authors' works differently is because not all authors are writers, but merely storytellers.

I am a writer. I will write anything, anywhere, anyway just for the love of writing. I love feeling the stroke of my pen as it glides along the cool feel of loos leaf paper. I like to sit back and gaze at my words typed or handwritten and admire the shape of my vowels accentuated by the curve of each consonant. I love words and I love to see them written. I am a writer. And although I understand that there are many other writers out there that may share my sentiments, there are many storytellers that may not.

Storytellers love the story. They may not concern themselves with perfect grammar and unparalleled description of details that only distract the reader from the story; they are storytellers. They strive to tell a story from start to finish while teasing the reader with relevant details in the process. The grammar may not always be perfect, the punctuation may not be on point (pun intended) but the story, however wonderfully crafted, is there.

In this day and age, readers love a good storyteller. No one lambastes a storyteller for missing a comma if the story is amazingly authored. If I tell you about my trip to Witch Mountain, you're not hoping that I don't use contractions or start sentences with And, But, or Because. No, you're hoping that the story takes you on the ride you strapped yourself in for. As aspiring writers, it is important not to focus too much on the details that merely distract the writer but rather tell a story that forces the reader to forget that you ended the last sentence with a preposition.

I think I forget that. And although I'll make no plans to stop being a writer, I realize that it's high time I take on the joy of being an amazing storyteller. After all, readers just want to read a great story.

Writing Rules

Just a reminder reminding my fellow writers to write...
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