K4: Kite

I'm not sure what to do with "kite." Who in the novel flies a kite? Who even would?

Sloane might be shocked to have become someone who knocks over a wine glass at dinner and nearly wants to cry.

Muriel? Maybe Muriel imagines running over a hill with her new son or daughter, a kite flying behind them and tugging her high?

J4: Junior

Chigger was sick of being the junior member of the family - of society. He was tired of being smaller than everyone and hating his ugly, curled-in hand.

I4: Indigo

Already, she missed summer. The shining lumps of red and yellow and green-zebra tomatoes, the exuberant, strapping corn, and the sensual indigo of eggplant. It was only November, and she felt as if another summer would never come.

H4: Hardscrabble

It wasn't as if Chigger had grown up in some hardscrabble, down-on-its-luck town. He'd gone to a good school. Taken karate and trumpet lessons. Mom and Dad had loved him. At least, well, until.

G4: Golly Gee

He looked like the kind of guy who'd say "golly-gee willikers" - ruddy face, pale eyelashes, neatly parted, thinning hair.

F4: Feeling

Another lame word, but I'll try.

Sloane had a feeling there was someone in the house. "Dewey," she asked the empty kitchen and dark hall. "Mur?"

E4: Electronic

It was the first time Muriel had been greatful for the whole confusing world of the web. Somehow, she was electronically connected to people in her situation all over the world. If "electronic" was even the word. As quickly as things were moving, "electronic" sounded like the olden days, giving off a whiff of gas lamps and soot.

D: Deny

He couldn't deny that it felt good, that it felt amazing, but even as the man's hands climbed his stomach and chest like a cliff face, Dewey felt a sick welling, like a chill and sickly deepwater well, flooding him from within.

C4: Cartwheel

She wanted to do cartwheels, she wanted to sing. A few unevenly ascending "la - la - las" actually escaped her mouth.

B4: Betray

Dewey felt betrayed. By himself. His parents. Even Sloane.

But most of all he felt betrayed by Ronnie, the boy he'd hoped he could love.

A4: Absolute

She was absolutely exhausted. Her fingers ached as if they'd spent the day with chickens scratching in the dirt.

Round 4: Reinspire

Just back from a weekend away with Matt's family, and I return actually inspired. Reading a fantastic novel called "Border Crossing," with some of the richest, realest characters I've discovered in a long time. Not since THE VANISHING ACT OF ESME LENNOX have I been this deeply inspired for my own writing.

So: Round 4 of this word game we established in January? Sentences that apply to the largely reimagined TREE MUSEUM story.

BORDER CROSSING toggles multiple characters much more deftly than my novel-draft does, and it ties those characters - binds them - together along both plot and metaphorical lines. That's what my novel needs to do.

So, the next 26 entries will be sentences from the restart of a novel-in-progress.

Please, please, please. Wish me luck.

X3: Questioning .....

There is no 3rd "x" word on my list. All I managed was "xenophobic" and "Xerxes." Ah well.

Starting Monday, what theme will I take on for "A4"???

Y3: Questioning Yellow

Golly, this switching around of letters gets confusing.

Was I really as much happier in the yellow shirt I wore in my profile picture? If I wear it to St. Louis, will I be happy again there?

Z3: Questioning Zen

Zen... hah! I can barely imagine the word. Zen is for... vacation? Zen is for... luckier folks than me? Zen is... another thing to make me feel guilty for not living the life I should lead?

(And there you have it folks. "Should." A word I'd nearly managed to excise from my life 8 years ago, which has now fully, disappointingly, oozed its way back in.)

W: Why Did I Forget W?

Running into that old "W" problem again... apparently when I blog an alphabet, I forget that "w" should fit right in after "v."

So to question "w" is, perhaps, about questioning my focus? My attention to detail? My ability, in context of this whitewater job of mine, to hold my focus on anything not related to work?

Not a good morning for creativity. At 7:23 a.m., I'm already 3 crises in.

V3: Questioning Valentine's Day

Luckily, I don't have to question it, now that I've got Matt.
But for others, I do wonder whether it's the best thing all around, the way we continue to celebrate a hearts and flowers notion of love.

T3: Questioning Tarantula

I don't really have questions about tarantulas.

I like them. I've touched one - stroked its soft, dense hair.

But I don't really have questions about them: are they endangered? do they dream?

I do remember one of the old Piers Anthony Xanth novels which featured a giant jumping spider, but I don't think he was a tarantula. Was Shelob a tarantula, swollen by the ages in Tolkien's world?

Ah, questions. Once I manage u, v, x, y, and z, will I keep questioning the words? Or do I need to root around and find another trick from somewhere up my sleeve?