GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Here's an excerpt of my character's dream I wrote today. Her name is Karo, she is a drummer in the women band of my novel. I haven't gotten very far into it yet, no idea where everything is going. The piece was translated with the help of Google but I edited the translation, it was too weird. I think this is pretty steamy. Ahem. Speaking of going fearward.

Day EIGHT excerpt

Sometimes I still dream of her. Like a climber from the bottom of the sea she appears in my oceanic dreams. Then I toss and turn restlessly but do not wake up until morning, bruised, exhausted, the pillow crumpled, my blanket wrapped around me like a bondage. Her long hair spreads around her head in the dark green water, she ascends out of the depth, smiling air bubbles as she approaches me. She disguises herself as a mermaid, her boyishly slender hips turning  into a beautiful shiny silver fish tail with fine scales and an elegant, powerful swing. She is naked. Far far away, looking up I see where the sun shines brightly on the surface, bottle-green light that calls me to safety. I want to go where I'm safe, but I can’t seem to get away. No matter how much I pedal with my legs and make swimming motions with arms, heavy and immobile as sandbags, it's futile. I want to dive up and away from her, towards the light, but I can’t stir from the spot.

Leila reaches me. Her face like chiseled from marble, fine, smooth, motionless. Only her catty almond eyes show signs of life, burning with a cold, green light. I hear her voice speaking in my head, her lips do not move.
“Karo,” she sings in her warm alto, a voice as undeserved as her dark, angelic looks, both concealing her true nature. “Come to me, Karo,” she coos, alluring, seductive, witchcraft of the toxic kind, deadly and irresistible. A voice from somewhere deep within me cries “No!”, but in vain, I’m pulled into her cold body by forces I cannot control. I twine about her, now naked myself, shuddering at the touch of her icy cold skin. Immediately she absorbs my warmth. The more cold and empty I feel from inside, the warmer Leila becomes. Her skin begins to glow, it emits a bright light that surrounds us like an aura. With horror I realize we sink deeper and deeper into the dark sea. Entwined as we are, my arms and legs around her body, she pulls me down with her. Her hands on my hips, she moves her slippery fish tail against me, artfully seductive, with cold calculation. Her eyes give her away. She knows her power, it’s in her superior smile as she watches me, registers my agonizing pleasure, watches how ecstasy distorts my face as I can’t help but rub myself against her flaky flesh that burns like a searing fire between my legs. I need to fight her, I’m aware she will be my ruin, but whatever move I make is turned into its opposite, as if she has put a reversal spell on me. My hands, meant to push her away, caress her breasts instead. Meaning to detach my legs from her fishy lower body, trying to evade the consuming desire she raises in me, the stranglehold only grows tighter. My attempts to pull away from her poisonous kiss has me pressing my mouth deeper into hers, entering it deeply with my tongue, while all the time she smiles her wicked little smile. Her power over me is total, I am a mindless puppet, an empty shell. Her greatest cruelty though is my raging hunger for her when I wake up.

Rising to the surface of consciousness, all I want is to retain the fleeting sensation of stinging hot lust between my legs. Dream images of Leila's breasts still vivid, her raspberry nipples hard under my hands, I press against a lump of duvet entangled between my legs and rock to a climax that cannot ease my shame. In these moments, just awakened from sleep, I hate her so much I could kill her.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Steamy indeed, my friend.  Nicely, nicely done.  I found this sensual as well as magical and love the idea of a siren evil mermaid-like creature!  Loved all the details, the bottle green water, she smiled bubbles, one body losing it's' warmth while the other absorbs it.'.  So many lovely things here and of course I wonder who she is, why this person is so drawn to her even in sleep and then wakes hating her.  Intriguing and I would certainly read more!  Bravo, GG!
xo!

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Luckily the mermaid-creature is from the wet, otherwise this would have steamed off the page. I thought this was superbly crafted. Nothing was out of place or got in the way of the flow. Things that don't even sound that exciting, like rubbing against the scaly body or being slapped with her fish tail sound strangely erotic in this exerpt. All those sensuous details. It is very fascinating and I am definitely hooked.

Great diving!

Andrea

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Very steamy, and sensual, and surprisingly visual.  The descriptors really help paint the story, and I loved how you didn't shy away from taking it to its natural conclusion, and then - the unexpected “I hate her so much I could kill her”.  Nice transitions, and detail.  Glad I stopped by to take a peek. 

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Thank you all so much, for reading as for your feedback. The greatest surprise, next to the fact that you say you liked it (!) is the mentioning of sensuous details, the one thing I keep obsessing my writing lacks dramatically… :) I'm glad I posted, even though I found it risky to do so. Going fearward in this case was not writing it but putting it out here. I'm glad I did. Thank you so much for your generous support.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

wowser. you got my heart a racing. I love the sensuous detail. don't stop.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

oh yes… (yes, yes, yes, yes!).
God, gg, this is wonderful. Steamy without being pornographic. Very very believable too, which can only mean one thing: great sensuous details!! I'm getting a nice tingle (no, I don't mean THAT kind of tingle) about this, about the bigger story around it. Feels like you are 'onto' something, something good.

bravo!!

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Me too, Gabriele, I agree totally with what they said. Actually I thought I'd posted a comment yesterday when I first read it, but I guess not.

Can I blame you for a rather erotic dream I had last night? :)

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

wow- so glad that I have some time tonight to read this properly, was definitely worth reading slowly… I can't add anything new here, just loved it - sensuous, daring, visceral… yum!

more!

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

For all who want to get an idea what I am working on, here's what I wrote about my story earlier:

My plot. Keeps changing all the time since I started on day one. What is left is that it's about a women band and something happens. Heheh. It has simmered down from something grand to something closer to my real life experience in a ballrom dance band, and from there I might take it up a notch, which seems more doable.

My I-character is a lesbian drummer. She is deserately and secretly in love with my very lovely lead singer. Things start taking up speed (when will I ever get there?) when they start working on a new, different program, away from doing cover songs, producing their own music, and therefore take on board two new background singers, one of them the evil mermaid from the dream sequence I posted above.

Somehow their piano player gets lost (or maybe not?) in the process (in one scene she gets pregnant and announces she's going to quit) and the lead singer, Ella, wants to bring in a male pianist whom she met and connected with brilliantly, musically as well as personally (and as far as I know physically as well and the whole caboodle). If the piano player stays, she will get together with him another way, I'm sure. Who can resist the man at the piano?

Things start happening, as things are bound to happen, with an explosive mixture of characters, changes and surprises, love interests, different ideas and visions of the collective project, love triangles and an evil spirit who plays everybody against everybody just for the fun of it… It's supposed to be a story about love and relationship, how encounters and decisions turn out to be life changing, and about dreams and what it takes to make them come true. Or how they are bound to fail. The psychology of destiniy. I think.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

wow, Gabriele. Much of this sounds like one of those examples I read of 'how to write a great summary of your plot'…It feels like a sure thing, to me. Just needs a typist. Or, ahem, someone with a nice pen.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Wow. I think just writing about a band releases so many constraints that other characters with more straightlaced lives may be faced with. I am intrigued by the characters as you describe them, and can see from the excerpt that you posted that you can go so many ways with this. Not everything has to be true, some of it can be dream sequence or fantasy. It is a really liberating subject, and your themes are very intriguing. Psychology of destiny is something we all need to know a little more about, I'd say.

xo
Andrea

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Gabriele,

I stayed up to keep my promise to myself to read what you were writing.  I would ditto / agree with everything and all that's already been said.

Hmmmm, wonder what dreams having read this will bring as I head off to bed now ?

Deb

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Thought I might find a new post now that you've possibly taken off in another directions.  Eager and willing to read, my friend.  xo

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

hi gabriele

that was fun. i find it interesting that the contradictions here source tension, thrills, possibilities. if the polarity is orchestrated then the tension is useful. turns to satisfaction even as the doubts and cross forces keep rising. they just fuel the fun. isnt that nice :)

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Thank you all so much for stopping by, Valli, Ayla, Deb, Sandra, Andrea, Ruth, Nancy, jenni and Leigh-Anne. Wow! Thank you for your comments.

Ayla, after I read you I decided to do another translation of the new material. My main character's name is now Lotte, from Charlotte. She used to be a singer in a band and has a flash back into the old days when she receives an unexpected phone call. I only translated the phone call scene, there was more but it takes AGES to translate.  Here it comes.

Bird Steps - reloaded

“Hello Lotte, it's me.”
Pause. He didn’t need to say his name, though we had not spoken in years. “How are you?”
How I was? Did he really want to know? Probably not.
“Very well Frank,” I said lightly, “thank you. You know how it is. With a child the days fly by and all the time there is something going on. ”
He laughed his familiar, quiet little laugh with a bit of an undertone. Still liked to smugly point out the obvious, did he? Used to make me feel like an idiot. I knew exactly the face he made when he said,  “No, in fact I don’t know how it is. And with Matthias? Everything okay? ”
I felt the little sting from his correction. It had always been like this between us, an exchange of little jabs and private jokes, always at the risk of one of us being offended in the end. This similarity had been the most difficult part of our friendship.
“Yes, everything’s well,” I lied, slightly annoyed. What the hell, I thought, he didn’t call to inquire about our well being. Not after all these years. I let the pause extend far beyond my comfort zone, let it weigh between us. I hated the way the silence felt, hated my need to fill it with cheerful chatter. But I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Whatever it was he wanted, he would have to just come out with it.
“Listen,” he finally said, clearing his throat. How familiar this seemed, just like we were friends again, calling each other any time we felt like it. We knew each other through and through. So often had I heard him clear his throat in exactly this way.
“We thought you should know,” he continued. “We heard it only yesterday.”
He paused for a moment, but this time it was not for the sake of the effect. It felt different. He needed to take a run up. I braced myself.
“Mikesch is dead,” he said abruptly, somewhat short of breath, as if he’d hurried in order to deliver the news. I felt nothing. Mikesch dead? Frank went on, relieved now. For him the worst was over.
“He had an accident during his holidays, apparently already two weeks ago. The funeral was last Saturday. ”
“Who told you?”
My mouth was dry, my throat parched. I could barely squeeze the words through. What did I care who’d told them? What difference would it make?
“Nina called yesterday. She was informed about the funeral at the last minute, his parents couldn’t find her phone number. She was devastated. Apparently the contact between them had become more intense again in the end. Mikesch’s wife found her number on his computer and phoned Nina a day after he was buried.”
I couldn’t picture any of this. Mikesch in a cascet was unthinkable. Nina I had seen only two or three times an, austere, blonde beauty whose relationship with Mikesch seemed surrounded by tragedy. I’d had no idea what was going on between the two of them. His wife I’d never met. He’d sent me a birth announcement of their first daughter, that was all I knew about his life after I left.
“Do you know precisely what happened?”
“He is drowned.”
Nothing could cushion the shock, the horror that hit me, punching the air from my body like a brutal kick to the stomach.
“Oh God.”  
I couldn’t imagine a more horrible death. Sometimes I had nightmares in which I was stuck under water, kicking about in panic, sinking deeper and deeper until I my lungs threatened to burst and I was forced to take that last, fatal breath. But instead of my lungs exploding I discovered to my immense relief that I could breathe under water. I didn’t want to imagine what it must have been like for Mikesch to find out he couldn’t. Tears ran down my cheeks, tickled down to my chin, gathered there and fell on my sweater in thick, heavy drops.
“Nina said he was out swimming and got run over by a boat shooting by. It’s likely he was unconscious before he drowned. ”
Sure, I thought, that’s likely. Even more likely, though, was that this was what everybody would like to believe, but no one knew what really happened. We would never know. I did not try to hide I was crying now, like I used to hide how desperately and hopelessly I had been in love with him. As it turned out later, they had all known anyway.
“I simply can’t believe it,” I said, “he was so young, in the middle of his life. It must be a horrible loss for his wife. And his daughter. ”
Frank offered comforting sounds, the social worker in his element. In the work for the Aids Society he had to deal with death and mourning on a daily basis, when survivors broke down in shock and disbelief, confronted with the death of a loved one, no matter how predictable.
“Thanks for telling me,” I finally said, and felt genuine warmth flare up towards him for the first time during his unexpected call.
“How's Jon? I mean, how is he doing? Not just about Mikesch’s death. That too, of course. ”
I felt stupid, another unpleasant flashback.
“He’s obviously shocked and very sad. You know the two go back forever. We haven’t seen much of each other in years, but Mikesch and Jon stayed in touch loosely. You know how he is. We can hardly believe Mikesch is dead. ”
There he was, my old friend. The Frank I’d loved, for his candor, his sensitivity, his sense of humor, his warmth and understanding as I now recalled. We never spoke about my feelings, which in retrospect seems really strange. What an odd triangular constellation we must have been in the eyes of the others. It was Jon, not Frank, I was in love with, head over heels. In my early thirties when I met them, I was incredibly naive and inexperienced in some regards for a woman my of age. It took over a year until I had to admit to myself that a) Jon was gay and b) he and Frank were lovers and not merely room mates, as I had tricked myself into believing. Frank was what I longed to be. The one Jon went home to at night. The one with whom he shared his joys and sorrows. The one with whom he slept. At first, becoming friends with Frank was a compromise, because Jon wasn’t up for graps alone, they came in a package. It was much later that our friendship, the one between me and Frank, gained momentum and stood alone.
“Give him my love,” I said, lamely.
I wanted finish this conversation and be alone with the flood of feelings and memories the death notice had brought back to life.
“I'll do that,” he said. “He sends his love, too. Take care, Lotte.”
I didn’t tell him nobody called me Lotte anymore. Why bother.
“And you, Frank. Thanks again for letting me know. Bye now.”

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Yes, yes, and yes.  Are you feeling good about this?  Sorry about all the work that translation took but I'm so glad that you took the time.  I want to know more about this woman, where life has led her and more about her time in the band.  I already feel like I know her. Yep, pulled me right in, Gabriele.  Thank you.
xo

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Thanks, babe, that was fast! Yes, I am feeling good about this. It came up easily and spontaneously. There was a little warm up before this bit and some more thoughts after, buttoo much to translate. I feel I'm on the right track now.

Can't for the life of me imagine yet how to go into the rehearsal scenes and all the band related stuff, intimidated by the sheer mountain of real life material, but I suppose I'll do it the same way I did with this scene. Word by word, letting it come through. It's not memoir, but inspired by real life events and people, freefalling them into the void.

:)

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Oh Gabriele, you practically took my breath away with this. Not the fact that you posted from your new start, but the bigness of this story that you posted from. To me it seems huge, one single phone call and I am let into this woman's life and what feels like a huge chunk of her past that maybe is ready now to be thought about, to be examined in the minutest detail.

I just love everything about this, I don't even know what special parts to point out, I feel like I'd be fragmenting the whole if I did.

This is classic Gabriele. Pure showing, unwrapping bit by bit, and never giving anything away until its time has come. And to me the phone call feels like a setup (in a manner of speaking) that will draw Lotte back into the times that are hinted at. Anyway, I'm hoping…

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

This is very very good, Gabriele. Thanks so much for translating. I have a sneaking suspicion it's even better in German - not that your translation isn't good, just that I have a sort of 'feeling' of something, how to describe other than be trite and say 'German' feeling. Whatever, what I mean to say, again, is it's very good. Very readable, definitely making me want to read on.
Bravo!! Definitely on the right track, I'd say.

What I'm finding - with that 'sheer mountain' of material, is that so long as I approach it with close-up eyes, like tugging at one item in a heap and inspecting it, starting there, until it's time to inspect another… it's just fine. (God, it has to be, I've spend the past 3 days writing ONE scene in that mountain and it's not over yet…!)

Curiously I'm reading a book I think you'll like, and which seems to synchronistically be helping me a bit with my own writing – also a kind of look into the past, a dark past – called, 'While I Was Gone' (damn I want that title) by Sue Miller. Some people find it distracting to read material that could be related in some way to what they are writing, but I don't.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Ruth, Sandra, what can I say? I'm thrilled, of course, by your comments. I'm still scared I'm going to fuck up (or throw up!), but I'm doing it as you say, Sandra, as good as I can... with close-up eyes, like tugging at one item in a heap and inspecting it, starting there, until it's time to inspect another…
Ruth, I share your hope. If this setup isn't going to catapult me back in time, I don't know what will!

To be fair I must admit that in the process of translating I have gotten rid of unneccessary words and chatter, of psychologizing and giving away too much too early… I figured there had to be an upside to the extra work load.  ;) As if the upside of being able to reveive your wonderful and supportive comments weren't enough already. What can I do. I'm greedy.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

No news on my word count, but ooohhh, this was fun!

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Today I wrote in English, on my wireless keyboard while lying in bed, resting my back. I'm still circling around how to get into scenes, I find it amazingly hard to do. Writing based of autobiographic material seems almost as hard as pure fiction at this point. It only works if I let myself totally off the hook and really write whatever occurs, in spite of that voice that keeps telling me I'm n ot showing, I'm not writing sensuous detail, I'm not this and not that enough. Phew. Here it comes. This time unedited, total first draft.

Day SEVENTEEN exerpt

Who were these people I shared those years of my life with? Looking back, I see them as long lost friends. Each and every one of them has disappeared from my life, in the end even Freddie. And Jon. We used to be so close, I would never have thought we would be able to turn our backs on each other. Not the guys from the band, though. I mean, I remember them as friends, but we didn’t have much, if anything, to do with each other outside of our band life of rehearsals and gigs. There was hardly any private contact, until towards the end, when things sprialled out of control in no time at all.

The time we spend together was precious. Or for me it was. A peculiar mixture of feelilngs. I was thrilled to be part of the project, a real singer at last. But there also was insecurity, I kept fearing I could be called upon my shortcomings. I never felt as a real singer, always feared someone would point out what a fake I was. I tried hard to make up for my lack of education and professional skill. I worked hard, took singing lessons, practiced on my own a lot, desperately determined to become the best singer I had in me. I was hard on myself and I expected the same of my co-singers. Secretly. But they clearly had a different agenda. Sarah never seemed to be haunted by the same fears. If the thought of a lack of qualification ever crossed her mind, she managed perfectly to keep it to herself and appear untroubled by self doubt or lack of confidence in both, her qualification as a singer and her place in the world.  Which I found not only astounding but also drove me nuts because in my eyes she was the weakest part of out trio and didn’t work even close to enough to make up for what she lacked. Plus, I didn’t like her.

Freddie was a different case. She was pretty busy with her studies and her private life of lovers and friends and doing cool things I could not even imagine but envied her nevertheless. But I liked her, and I came to like her more the closer I got to know her. She was, it seemed, the exact opposite of me. Outgoing, cheerrful in her demeanor she represented the girlie type of woman that was en vogue in that period of time, with Heike Makatsch representing the prototype of the girlie on MTV, with her artfully childlike honesty, her loose, big mouth and her 5th grader hairdoes. Freddie was exactly the type. She was long and thin with crazy curly hair, a full soft mouth that felt like the softest cushion when she greeted me with her tender, tender kiss. She could wear anything from H&M, blindly draw whatever clothes from the hangers, and she would look gorgeous in thingies that on me looked cheap and like I had no waistline. She was the perfect type for the era in fashion and pop culture. The more I got to love her the less I envied her coolness and her cheeful carelessness. Together with her I got to know a part of me that was funnier and more feminine, she infected me with her crazy, uninhibited dance moves and her unashamed display of sex appeal when we vamped ourselves up before we took the stage. Freddie brought out more of a woman out in me then any man had ever inspired. She became my teacher by leading the way. All she had to do was be herself.

The more Freddie and I got along, the more Sarah appeared to be the odd one out. Next to me and Freddie going crazy on stage she appeared stiff and controlled. We poured heart and soul into our singing while she was doing artfully constructed spirales and loops in the high pitched voice Jon had chosen her for. She stood out like a sore thumb. In my eyes. I got irritated with her, she bugged me. She resisted any attempt from our side to try and adapt more. We were a party band, Freddie and I argued, carefully not to hurt her feelings, we injected the party to the party. That’s how we saw our job, that’s what we did and what was the whole fun about it. Sarah wouldn’t comply.
“Let’s be a bit more classy then that,” she’d say. “We don’t need to go crazy on stage. Let’s stick to our basic steps and concentrate on the sound. It’s way too distracting to move around that much. Makes you blur your lines.”
I was fuming at this point. We were all touchy about singing off key, it was one of the most sensitive issues among us. Even the guys, who enjoyed teasing us to our secret delight, were careful about what they said about our singing when our lines were still fresh and we were still far from being able to do them in our sleep.
“What exactly are you saying, Sarah?”, would I demand to know with barely constrained annoyment. “Are you suggesting we are singing off key because we are moving around too much?”
And she would retreat, as usual, behind her sugery smile, her wide eyes and her curtain of hair that always seemed to need some throwing back of sorting out when things got a little rough for her.
“Not at all,” she’d chirp while I’d stare at her glistening lips. She loved to use those tranparant lipsticks that made your lips shine like a fatty pork rind. “I’m just saying. I’d prefer to keep the dancing a bit more in the background and would have us rather concentrate on getting our triads across clear and clean.”
When I complainded about it to Jon he wouldn’t take sides with us.
“Well, if she’s not into going crazy and party on stage with you guys, then you’re going to have to pipe it down a bit. I love what you and Fred do, but you can’t let her stand next to you and look like an idiot. The three of you have to come across as a unitiy. If she’s not into your kind of energy, pipe it down, meet her halfway.”
Sweet and charming as I loved him, but clearly not what I’d wanted to hear.
Then came the gig at the private party of the famous movie producer, and an hour before I had to go out Jon called to let me know Sarah had fallen ill and wouldn’t be able to sing.

I had been in pause mode all day. The only thing I needed to do was buying some groceries because it was a Saturday and my fridge was empty. There’d be plenty of delicious food at the party, and we were free to eat and drink as much as we liked, which was a generous offer we had come to appreciate since at some recent gigs we got drink coupons and an extra plate with a limited amount of food had been served. So I only had to take care of my supplies for Sunday. The rest of the day I spent in that flat, withdrawn space I already knew as my pre performance low. I felt heavy, empty, in a flat mood. I spend all day hanging out, not doing much of anything, unable to concentrate enough to read. I listened to music, dreamed up the gig ahead, imagined meaningful eye contact with Michael, how he’d watch me all night, how his secret love and longing would eat away at him until he finally would make a move, and inbetween my sweet daydreaming I’d get my things ready. I put the dress out, checked the panty hose for holes and hidden damages, put an extra one in my bag, just in case, shone my shoes, ran an oil bath and soaked in it until I smelled like a rose garden. I washed my hair, applied body lotion, deodorant and perfume before I carefully slipped into my stage outfit. Then I blew my hair dry and  into a mane, with a little help from the setting lotion I had learned to use. The phone rang when I was about to put on my make up.
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Hi Jon, everything alright?”
“Yeah, fine, fine. Listen, Sarah just called. She won’t be able to join us tonight.”
That silenced me for a moment. Did he think  we were not required then?
“Does that mean you’re going to perform without us?”
“Not at all. Depends on you, really. How do you feel about doing it as a duo? Your and Freddy's lines are close anyway, it would be worse if she were the missing voice. I’m fine with the two of you if you are. Just wanted to check in with you before I call Fred.”
I felt a big sigh of relief pushing it’s way up. Not only had I been looking forward to the money. We were booked for three sets minimun, I really could use that extra cash. Plus, I had been looking forward to seeing the guys, not to  mention my hopes and dreams to finally get together with Michael, that tonight would be the night… and if not that, my whole system was on hold, ready to discharge and the held back energy explode into our performance.
“I think we’ll be just fine,” I said and could feel how my certainty put him at ease. “Me and Freddie together is great, we have practiced a lot together, we can do the whole thing in our sleep. If you exchange the two songs where Sarah has her big solos nobody will notice she’s missing.”
I had wanted to say ‘she won’t be missed’ but caught myself just in time. Not only was it a nasty thing to say, even when it was the truth, it also would have alarmed Jon about the state of our coporation, and the last thing I wanted to do was alarming Jon about anything at all. We’d deal with it. For tonight singing without Sarah was good news, we’d take care of everything else later.

The party was at the Café on the Lake in Tiergarten. It was a lovely location, in the middle of an inner city park landscape, surrounded by trees and nature, yet good to reach by car from one side. The wide glass doors to the outside area had to remain closed, unfortunately, since it was late in November and a cold and wet night. The lights in the garden were burning as well as the ones along the shore line of the lake, where in the summer there would be tables and chairs and waiters in long white aprons taking orders from the crowd. This place always was humming with guests, summer as much as winter, and tonight it was humming with the exclusive communitiy that had gathered to celebrate someone’s birthday. The guys had set up our equipment in the afternoon, Jon had done the soundcheck without us, we would only need to do a very brief adaption. Frank would take care of the sound and do whatever adjustments neccassary during the first song. I had met up with Freddie in her appartment to drive over together, her place was along the way for me. Freddie had called me as soon as she had heard the news from Jon.
“God, I can’t say I’m sad we’re going to sing without her ,” she blurted out, giggling. “I know I’m a nasty bitch but babe, we’re going to have so much fun tonight! Let’s rock that place and have a party, what do you think?”
“You’re reading my mind, sweetheart. If you’re a nasty bitch, then so am I. We’re going to have fun .” I heard her laugh on the other end.
“Okay, gotta go, I have only one eye painted yet, the other one is hardly visible, I put so much mascara and eyeliner on. Be gorgeous, babe, don’t be shy on the colors, let’s show our true fake personalities.”
And so we did. The transformation was some kind of miracle, each time anew, it never got old. When I was done with my make-up and my hair, my little black dress and my shiny shoes, I hardly recognized myself.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Gabriele, to me this is pitch perfect. Just enough telling and just enough showing – lovely bits of specific detail in the telling parts which makes them feel like 'showing' parts! I think it all works really, really well. First draft? Amazing. I'd never have thought that.

I love all these characters, want to get to know them better, feel like I'm going to enter an exciting (and hopefully sometimes seedy) world.

So much I liked - the “Plus, I didn't like her” sitting there, so nice and stark,
and: Freddie brought out more of a woman out in me then any man had ever inspired. Lovely.

I wondered who  Michael was, I felt I needed something there, as when his name came up I thought I must have skimmed a bit - I presumed he was in the band, but then when I went over it, I figured not… but perhaps him being a mysterious figure right now is good. And of course, this is an excerpt, so perhaps we know who he is already.

If there is one thing I'm missing, it's knowing what kind of band this is. I assume from this a rock band, that's what I hear and see, but I think you mentioned elsewhere it wasn't, so to me, if this is early in the novel I think it would be good to not go on thinking it was one kind of music and then find out it's not. Apart from that, I'd say you are doing just great. More than great.

 

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

This is lovely. Great detail on the singers in the band, I feel like I know them really. Funny that the two with energy would be asked to tone down for the one — makes you wonder…

Those two lines that Sandra mentioned were also among my favourites, along with others like:

“Not at all,” she’d chirp while I’d stare at her glistening lips. She loved to use those tranparant lipsticks that made your lips shine like a fatty pork rind.

and

…let’s show our true fake personalities.

I was wondering about the guys in the band, they're hardly mentioned at all, but then I reread in the first paragraph that the I-character didn't have much contact with them, not outside band events.

But Michael… I hope I get to read what comes next.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Sandra, Ruth, so good to read you both. The Michael character is in the band. Unfortunatley, to make things more confunsing, he's changed his name. He used to be Mikesch, the guy the phone call was about in the first scene, the one who died… and I have this suspicion creeping up on me that this may not have been the last name change for him. Sandra, you're right about the band and the musical style. It will become clearer when (if!) the scene continues that they are a balloom dance band. No Sex and Drugs and Rock n'Roll, so sorry! (Though the evil mermaid character, if I ever get there, might introduce some of the characters to the sex and drugs and rock an' rolling stuff…)

This has been only my third (or fourth?) writing session since the new beginning, and to be honest, I'm freefalling into the void, blindly, and I hate it. I have no idea how to get into the scenes with the band, the guys, the rehearsals or whatever else, where we would get to know them. I was massively relieved when at least some of the girls material started to drip yesterday. This stuff is so hard to write! All I can do is stagger along and hope for the best.

You have no idea how incompetent and useless I have felt with this. On the upside I can say that I completely trust in the process. I just hope it isn't mandatory for me to trust in my skill as a writer for being one. As a critic I'm my worst nightmare. But that's not news, that's basic knowledge, right? So glad you guys stopped by. (Oh, I read the week three pep talk this morning. Looks like I'm totally on track with this.. thinking my writing is boring and not going anywhere… someone might find themselves in a car crash today! ;)

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

I have no idea how to get into the scenes with the band, the guys, the rehearsals or whatever else, where we would get to know them.

Gabriele.. I wonder if this might have something to do with what happens when we are working with some 'known' material – we can sort of 'see' it all laid out before us and it feels totally unmanageable, how to enter scenes, how to let things unfold. I find I have to have a kind of 'double' vision going on, one that is totally here, now, word by word as it comes out, seeing, feeling what is happening (rather than what I think should or did happen); and at the same time, feeling, seeing, with a larger eye, the whole story. This larger eye is much softer in vision, it's more like a kind of embrace, gently holding things together, but with flexibility and space for 'whatever wants to happen'. I can't say it's easy, not at all, doing this. But If, when I feel overwhelmed at 'all that' (scenes I think that should or will be in the story), if I just go step by step and just stay with one scene, one sentence, then inevitably one thing leads to another. I know you know this… I think I'm writing it mostly for myself!

xo

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Sandra, no it's good, my knowing it doesn't help much at all right now. It's good to look at this from all sides and get your take on it, the way you say it… This has been in the air for a while. Thanks for coming back and helping me  find my way through this. I sure can use every support i can get!  :)

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

First time in days that I forgot to copy and paste and Gaia eats my post.  I really hate the bugs here.  Okay, rant over.  Sorry.
Ahem - I loved the whole band scene and would love to read more about what it feels like to belong in one.  We have the rehearsals and the “day of” jitters or down time, and I can't wait to hear more about what it feels like to be up on stage.  Does the I-character feel nervous at first, does she feed off the energy in the room, does she feel sexy? 
Sandra and Ruthie stole some parts I would have copied and pasted in so “ditto” theirs.  Especially the shiny lips like pork rinds.  What an awful comparison and it says volumes about how much the I-character really dislikes Sarah. 
As for the trouble you are talking about above - I find myself just sort of “blurting out” these kind of scenes, the need to just get it down.  I go back later to immerse myself a little more and can tend to the more sensuous details then.  I don't know if that would work for you, we all write differently, but just a thought. 
Good stuff, Lady!  xo, Ayla

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

hi gabriele,
i loved your story. you are great with the details and I feel the angst you are trying to convey. I like the freddie character. your story is rich and delicious.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Jen, thanks so much! Thanks for stopping by and letting me know what you think.

Ayla, you too, lady! Thank you. I took what you said to heart and just went with it today. Your questions made me go back into the scene and try to get it across how it is to be on stage. Plus something that happened in yesterdays writing, love interest stuff is starting to happen… the  most fun for me to write, to be honest. Loved what you said!

I find myself just sort of “blurting out” these kind of scenes, the need to just get it down.  I go back later to immerse myself a little more and can tend to the more sensuous details then.

Reminded me that I don't have to get everything 'right' and ready for print right away and to just go there and write it as it comes up. And so I did, thanks to you!

:)

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Inspired by Ayla's question I went back in and tried to get across how it is to be a singer on stage. It got long, almost 3,000 words. I'll put them out here anyway, just in case… this was fun writing! Completely unedited, first draft material, typing mistakes and all.

Day NINETEEN

When we finally walked into the party, dressed to the nines, pumped with energy and excitement, Freddy and I, it felt like being one with her. We were like a force of nature, the two of us, a force to be reckoned with. The crowd parted before us as the Red Sea had parted before Moses and we sailed through them, arm in arm, smiling all around. There were heads turning, eyes following us, once overs of all kinds, depending on the sex and age of the onlooker. We held  on to each other against the waves of attention as we steered towards the open space in the sideroom, where we could see the guys getting ready on stage. There was a lot of noise, music playing over the speakers, loud voices, clinking of glasses and plates. The sound would be difficult because the floor was not from wood but made of paving tiles, throwing back the sound and reinforcing it. Frank saw us first.
“Helloh,” he said, his frog face breaking into a wide grin. “You look ravishing, you two.”
“Hello Frankie,” I let go of Freddie and kissed him on the cheek held him for a moment.
“I’m glad you’re taking care of things tonight, the sound is awful.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, doll, uncle Frankie knows what to do.”
And he really did. He wasn’t even a technician, it just seemed that he had the knack of handling the switches and making the most of whatever circumstances we found. Jon preferred Frank to take care of the sound when things got difficult, but he would never take money for it. He did it for Jon and because he loved being part of the show, at least that was what I thought.
“Hey, good to have you with us tonight, Frank.” Freddie had to bow down a little to kiss his cheek, for he wasn’t a talll man, on eye level with me on bare feet, which made her tower over the both of us, one head taller, plus her killer heels. I had no idea how she managed to even stand on them, leave alone doing our steps when it came to performing. But she was a girlie girl in a way I’d never be, so she probably had it in her genes or something, the stuff I was lacking.
“There you are,” Jon said behind me and I turned to kiss his cheek and embrace him, watching Mike and Alec climb down the stage and steering towards us. Next to me Lupo held Freddie on arms length, looking her up and down, making smacking sounds.
“You’re such a pig,” she said, laughing and threw her arms around his neck in delight.
“Yes I am,” he said, “and you must the princess whose kiss will turn me into a prince.”
“Well, we’ll never find out about that, I’m afraid. And how’s the missus, and the little ones? All well at home?” I watched them doing their ususal routine, keeping track of the whereabouts of Mike from the corner of my eyes. Alec had joined us, hugging each of us. It had taken a while for all of us to get close and bond in the way we did now, but it always was fueld with some extra tension and crackle when we were about to perform. More testesterone and sex appeal in the air, the girls more girlie then usual, the guys on fire despite their professinal experience. I loved the energy of doing a gig together.
“Hey, you look great, the two of you,” Mike said, stepping closer. Neither Freddie nor me had ever gotten into a hugging routine with him. Nor Sarah, for that matter. He kept himself distant, more then the other guys, more even then Jon and Frankie who weren’t even into women. We sat around the table that had been reserved for us.
“Okay, everybody, listen up. I just spoke to our host, Ms. Konrad. She wants to do a short speech and a Happy Birthday with the band, then we start, pretty much on time. Three sets, but she already said it was probably going on at least a forth, the crowd is in party mood and they tend to last forever.”
“Who is she?” Freddie asked and Jon pointed her out discreetly, a heavy set, middle aged womand, pitch black hair cut sharply into a bob. She had the energy of a pit bull, you could see it across the room, just the way she held herself, talked to people. This woman had the composure of someone used to giving orders and making sure they were followed by the letter. She had chosen a blood red pantsuit for the occasion, with a black silk blouse under the jacket. She had wide hips and a big bossom, but there was nothing soft or motherly in the way she came across, just sheer power.
“How has it been dealing with her?” I asked Jon.
He chuckled. “She’s been treating us like we were part of the servants,” he said with a crooked smile, his bowler hat pushed out of his forehead so he looked like a boy. “Pushing us around, demanding instead of asking. She’s been a real peach.” We laughed.
“”Here she comes,” Frank announced and there she was, upon us like a force of nature. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as they flew over us, then landed on Jon as the one to deal with.
“We’d like to do the Happy Birthday now. Then I’ll go back on stage, announce the band and you can start. Okay?”
“Sure, ready when you are,” Jon said, charming as ever, unimpressed by her bossy demeanor. She turned and went to the stage, picked one of our singing mikes and waited impatiently for the guys to join her behind their instruments.
“God, she picked my mic, stupid cow. I just hope she doesn’t spit,” Freddie said between clenched teeth. I felt with her. We each had our personal microphone and were really touchy about anybody else using it, just as the guys were about their personal instruments. Party guests and hosts never were shy to simply go on stage and touch or try out whatever they felt like. We often had to ask people to keep their hands off our equipment, they were not aware of how insensitve their behavior was, violating the boundaries of our group space and our property.
The guys intoned Happy Birthday after a very short speech, to our relief, and everybody around us sang along. I had no idea still who’s birthday it was, it was too crowded to see whom the song was sung to. Whatever, I didn’t care. I felt my energy reaching a new high, heart beating faster, stomach clenching. My hands were sweaty, for a moment I felt like I had to pee but I knew I didn’t, Id been just a couple of minutes ago, when we came in and left our coats at the wardrobe. I looked at Freddie, the look on her face was one of concentration, and introspection, I didn’t dare to disturb her, but when she noticed me looking at her she smiled and pressed my hand.
“We’re going to have a great time, babe. Let’s let it all out tonight.”
Cheering and clapping branded through the room, the band had ended with a big drum finale.
“And now, dear friends, the dance floor is open. Please put your hands together for Jon Martens and the Sugar Cubes.” Clapping and cheering as we entered the stage and took our positions behind our mike stands. Jon made his obligatory speech, from good evening, ladies and gentlemen over introducing the Sugar Cubes to letting them know we were expecting them to dance their asses off, in his own, more sublte words. The room lay before us, the empty dancefloor space in front of the stage filling up with a curious crowd slowly coming closer, and behind them the opening to the big room with the tables and people dressed up for the occasion moving around or sitting, chatting, looking up expectantly as the first beats came through the speakers, a wave of attention just like when we came walking in, only bigger now as we were exposed, standing out on our island together. Mike hit the drums in my back, I could only see him when I turned my head. Freddie next to me, on the left, Jon on my other side, more in front but able to make eye contact with us, and on the right side of the stage Lupo with his contrabass and Alex at the piano. The sound that came back from the room was all mushy and unclear, but the monitor box in front of us would guide us through. Jon started singing, the first song of the first set was “You can’t sit down” and bound to get everybody off their asses and on their feet. It was a bold opening number, but the bossy lady had been mandatory about getting people to dance right from the start and so Jon had put this fast number first. I felt myself slip into stage  mode as soon as I heard my and Freddies voices coming back at us through the monitor speaker. It was on. We were singing. The music rushed trough my ears into my blood, I didn’t have to think, the words were there, the lines, our voices clear and strong, shrill in the right places. Some couples had started doing a wild Rockn’ Roll number, others were dancing free style, which this was a perfect number for both. Freddie and I were moving in sync, doing our bird steps, clapping, moving hips and hands, legs and feet, Jon looking over, singing the Chorus with us, increasing the speed, Mike pushing the rhythms on the drums, Alex hammering on the piano, Lupo on the bass. Joy bubbled up and pushed me on, pushed into my voice, into my body, took over and poured out into the room. We didn’t give them a pause, one song followed another, we did  Foxtrot and a ChaChaCha numbers, some thirties songs brushed up for Quickstep and a  first Mambo, then Jon did “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gay as a slow number and ended the first set with one of the newer pop songs Freddie and I liked so much more then the twenties to thirties material that tended to be pretty boring for us doing the background singing. Our duets with Jon were in the second and third set, so we still had something to be excited about when we went off stage for our first break. The party was in full swing now, the dancers were not willing to stop dancing and kept going with the canned music that flooded the room as we stopped playing. We gathered around our table, thanked Frank for the great job he had done.
“Everything okay with the monitor box?” he asked though we would have signalled if we’d had trouble. “You hear yourselves well?”
“It’s all good, Frankie,” Jon reassured him with a smile. “We’d be lost without you. You’re doing a great job.”
Frank looked pleased and relaxed now. A waiter came and brought a load of drinks to choose from. Freddie and I took our obligatory glass of champaign, the guys chose beers, Jon and Frank clinked their champaign glasses with ours.
“It’s going very well,” Jon said after we had our first sips, “you sound good as a duo as well.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Alex said, “it really isn’t showing that someone is missing. Isn’t that a relief? It’s always more fun when you candy girls are booked with us.”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you,” Freddie said, smiling her sweet, soft lipped smile at him. I wondered, like many times before, whether the guys in the band found her as charming and beautiful as I did and whether they were secretly in love with her. None of them had yet made a pass at her, to my surprise and, in Mike’s case, to my secret relief. Sure, Lupo had a girl friend and a child, but had that ever kept a guy from flirting and getting himself into trouble? Freddie was solo, as were Mike and Alex, yet there had never been any sign of anything more then a general appreciation of her girlishness, some obligatory flirting, but nothing serious. I made a mental note to ask her about the way she felt about the guys and whether anything was going on that I wasn’t aware of. I let my eyes wander as the chatter went on around the table, not really listening to what was said. There were a lot of people dancing now, many of them older, well in their middle ages, with heavy bodies that had lost their waste lines, balding heads, wrinkled faces and low cut dresses that would have looked better on someone twenty years younger, but it was infectious to see them having fun, dancing slow and tight, never too old for to party. The crowd in the bigger room had thinned, not so much movement going on anymore, I could see groups of people sitting at the tables now, drinking, talking, some faces reddened from the booze, the food, the heat building up from all the action on the dance floor. It was a good party, I thought. A success for the hostess. And for us. My gaze wandered aimlessly, I saw our host at one table, at the center of what looked like a heated discussion. One of the guys looked familiar, probably an actor I thought, pretty likely with her being a producer, then I recongnized him. An actor alright. What was his name again? I couldn’t find it. His face was very familiar, he must’ve been in the newspaper lately, since I didn’t watch TV. I kept searching my brain, looked further around  the room without really seeing, let my eyes wander around the table and went blank, when I met Mike’s stare. He’d done it again. He must have been looking at me for quite a while. This time he didn’t look away. I sat struck by thunder and lightning, paralized by the flood his gaze set in motion inside of me. My breath stopped. My heart gallopped. Heat waves rolled through me, goose bumps coverd my arms and my neck. What should I do? My brain raced but remained strangely empty. What should I do? Nothing came. His eyes were wide. He blinked. He looked at me. He kept looking. What did he see? Was that a smile, the seed of a smile I saw in the corners of his mouth? Oh God. Just stop looking at his mouth? Did I blush? Oh God, please don’t make me blush. A hot, red wave rose into my face. Damn, damn, damn! I didn’t dare to swallow, but I had to. What did he see? Everything? I couldn’t bear looking at him like this, I felt exposed, helpless, stupid, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him either.
“Okay, everybody, let’s go,” I heard Jon say in another dimension. All around me chairs were pushed back, everybody stood and went. For a second Michael looked like he was about to say something. Then his face went blank, he got up and went away, on stage. I forced myself to stand up and walk over to Freddie, my legs made of jelly.
“What the fuck was THAT?” she whispered as soon as I got close enough to hear her. The canned music had stopped, the guys were waiting for us to join them.
“I have no idea,” I said and it was the truth. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“I bet you are. C’mon, let’s go, they’re waiting for us.” She grinned. “Well I’ll be damned. Looks like your ice fish does have a heart after all.”
“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything at all. Maybe he just parked his eyes on me while he was pondering his shopping list.”
Freddie was still laughing when we went up and took our places. There was nothing I could do, nowhere I could go. Michael was sitting in  my back, the music started and all I could do was put it all into the song and sing my heart out. My body vibrated with the uncertainty of what his look had  meant, and whether he was watching me now. I was aware of every move I made and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it but make the best of it. Freddie kept looking at me, dancing against my hips and grinning until I threw my worries over board and went crazy with her. It was a wild set, the crowd cheered and wanted more, I was hot and sweaty and needed to pee, now for real, and for most of the time I managed to put Michael into the darkest corner of my awarens, until I moved my head and saw him sitting behind me from the corner of my eye. I sang our songs of love, aware that he had watched me. I sang my lines of love lost, love found, of longing and craving, of dancing together and making love, and all the time I wondered why he had watched me. Whether it meant something. Whether he wanted to tell me something. Did I want to know? Was I really ready for what I hoped it meant? I had been secretly in love with unresponding men for years. Was I ready for being met? Was I making a fool out of myself?

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Oh, I loved this! It didn't seem long at all, the way it moves, and with the amazing detail and description of people, preparations, and then moving into the first set, the first number. The energy is palpable. Made me feel like dancing myself, where's the band, where's the party (it's only 8am)?

Loved the descriptive detail around the pit bull lady:

She had the energy of a pit bull, you could see it across the room, just the way she held herself, talked to people. … She had chosen a blood red pantsuit for the occasion, with a black silk blouse under the jacket. She had wide hips and a big bossom, but there was nothing soft or motherly in the way she came across, just sheer power.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as they flew over us, then landed on Jon as the one to deal with.

So, Michael, the big stare… And then what?

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

Well, it made Ruth feel like dancing, but it made me wanna be in that band!

Great stuff. My favourite line (possibly of all NaNo so far):

Maybe he just parked his eyes on me while he was pondering his shopping list.

Re: GG's NaNo: Bird Steps

me too, I want to dance and be in the band - this is just brilliant GG - I am just loving this story, I feel greedy for more. I love these characters, the band, the interplay between them… I just want to drink them all in, over and over. You have a gift of translation and of writing in English - never doubt that my friend. I am only sorry that my German is so terrible that I can't be blessed to read this story as originally intended. more please! so great!

xo