There are three words that can kill any dream before it leaves the ground: “As soon as …” As soon as I finish this course … as soon as I get noticed … as soon as I revise … as soon as I get a marketing plan in place … as soon as the kids are in school … as soon as I ride the glitter pony of creativity … and on and on.
Yes, it is helpful to have action steps that inform your forward motion, but for too many of us who want to do creative work, we’re waiting on something that isn’t really keeping us from our writing. Our real barriers are beliefs that tell us we have to wait for the right conditions, along with the false assumption that one day we’ll “arrive” at our goal of being a successful writer and the need to create will feel satiated.
Newsflash: those “right” conditions and that “perfect” moment are not coming.
What I Thought I Needed
I spent this summer in a fundamentals of fiction course, which might seem strange since I teach a similar course. Why did I take it? I wanted to review the building blocks of fiction writing.
It’s a good idea, but a nagging thought kept surfacing: I need this because I probably missed something on my way here, and as soon as I finish this course, I’ll feel more confident about my writing.
The class was well-executed and the exercises and feedback were helpful. But at the end, I didn’t feel any more confident than when I began. In fact, I found there were a few more things I wanted to improve. I didn’t learn what I had expected (the magic sauce that would fix all the things, which doesn’t exist), but I did learn more about myself as a writer.
It reminded me that I am always going to be a student. Learning, like writing, has no concrete finish line. (I know, I know, there’s publication or the book deal, and I’ll discuss that in a moment.)
We have to get familiar with the discomfort of always being a work in progress. When we see a weakness in our writing, it needn’t send us into despair and a long list of things we need to finish before we become a successful writer (or a writer at all). It is evidence that we’re growing, and that’s a good thing.
The most important thing we need? To keep reading and writing. Take the course, read the book, enter the contest, and keep writing. Don’t let anything become a barrier to your consistent practice.
But After I Publish …
Maybe you believe that once you publish, the work will get easier. Then you'll know you're a successful writer. I believed this once too. Let’s consider the words from a couple writing giants:
In Stephen King’s book On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft he states:
“I have spent a good many years since [publishing]—too many, I think—being ashamed about what I write.”
Ashamed of what he published for a time? What? That doesn’t sound like publication was ultimately satisfying in and of itself. He’s not alone either.
After the publication of To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee was shocked by the book’s success. In a 1964 interview, she said,
“You see, I never expected any sort of success with Mockingbird … I hoped for a little but I got rather a whole lot, and in some ways this was just about as frightening as the quick, merciful death I’d expected.”
If Stephen King and Harper Lee can admit they didn’t feel like they’d “arrived” once they published, I think I can safely accept I won’t feel that way either. Publication is just one more mile marker on my writing road, and it will be in my rear-view mirror as quickly as it came.
The Successful Writer's Substitute for “As Soon As”
Instead of waiting to be ready or to depend on some external measure of success, I need to know why I’m writing and to keep working to create work that is satisfying.
Stephen King said it best in one more quote from On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft:
“Writing isn't about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it's about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well.”
If you’ve been waiting for something to change or putting all your worth in a single far-off accomplishment, release yourself from that pressure. It’s as simple as committing to daily practice: one word, one sentence, one page at a time. Celebrate the small wins, like investing fifteen minutes in your craft today.
What “as soon as” moment has been keeping you from writing lately? Share in the comments.
PRACTICE
Take fifteen minutes and write a character who is waiting on something. Make them use the phrase “As soon as …” and then force them out of their comfort zone with conflict and a decision. When you're done, share your writing in the comments, and be sure to leave feedback for your fellow writers!
Thank you so much for this Sue. Here I am at the International Writers Program in Iowa, with 34 other Writing Fellows. And oh, the amount of angst we’ve already shared about when we will really really be the poet… novelist… film-maker of our imaginations. You are right. we already are.
You’re welcome! The best thing about programs like Iowa are the people you are going to meet. Enjoy every minute and keep writing through it. It will be challenging, but oh so rewarding. Good luck!
This reminds me of what one of my favorite characters said “It’s a question of can or can’t. There are some things in life you just do.”
Writing is an exercise in insecurity.
We always tell our kids: “Can’t can’t do anything. But You can do anything you set your mind to.” Of course, they think we’re a little nuts until they get older and begin to understand the purpose behind the saying.
I saw an interview with Toni Morrison once a long time ago. She gave quite a few editing tips, which helped me a lot. But the most hit-home comment came when she said that she did not think of herself as a writer until after her third novel had been published. Perhaps authors, and I include my self in that group, are extremely insecure because we put ourselves out there in our craft. Our life blood is in that smudged ink on the page, in the words, in the placement of each sentence just so.
Sherrie,
I couldn’t agree more. The vulnerability never gets easier, but it is part of what makes the work resonate. Good luck as you continue!
Ive always thought about and wished “just once I would like to wake up famous” which for me meant, several books out there that people loved and bought and told others about. But I know that’s a pipe dream and would most likely leave me asking “now what?” A while back I tried writing for others but wasn’t having any fun. Then recently I found a coffee cup screen savor that said “Write like no one’s going to read it. And I have had a bit more fun. Although because I m writing like that I cant focus on one story to finish edit and get bata read… I have two I am editing in 2nd drafts and one I am finishing first draft.
Congrats Debra! We really do have to find the fun in our work. Sounds like you are on that track! Keep it up!
Thanks, now to settle down and figure out which one to stay with for any length of time. Hehe . I write a little on this one edit on that one…
Here is my “As Soon As” story (425 words):
As Soon As
Anne Marie sat at her desk checking the bundle of emails
listed on her computer screen. The manicured fucia, fake nails of the fingers
on her right hand moved with confidence on the purple mouse. The phone rang and
she picked up the receiver with her left hand without missing a stroke.
“Happy
Trails Event Planning. Anne speaking. How can we make your life happier today?”
Anne Marie sang out the familiar refrain. She had loved this job once. But now
she almost gagged everytime she had to answer the phone.
“Yes, I
am making a note of the change. We will take care of that right away. And Happy
Trails to you, too.”
Shit,
here that old brawd goes again. She has changed the particulars about that
reception at least once a day for the last month. Pain in the Ass.
“I’m
gonna quit this stupid job as soon as I find another one,” she said to the
empty office and computer. “And if I have to tell someone ‘Happy Trails’ again
today, I’m gonna puke.”
The
phone rang again. This time the person on the other end told Anne Marie that
her truck would need a valve job, and the parts and labor would cost more than
her truck was worth. She decided to buy a new truckas soon as she got a raise.
She would ask for a raise as soon as her boss got back from his family vacation
to Hawaii, but that wouldn’t be for another three weeks.
The
computer clock read 4:35. She could leave as soon as it read 5:00, and she
could grab a sandwich on the walk home. Or she could go across the street to
the ‘Happy Hour’ to grab a beer and some wings instead. But she needed to lose
some weight. She could pay for a membership at the gym as soon as she got that
raise.
Should I be good and walk home with
my healthy sandwich? OR should I run across the street and enjoy some of those
delectable honey-barbeque wings with an ice cold beer?
The
computer clock read 4:42.
“To
hell with it,” Anne Marie said, pushed in her chair, grabbed her purse, then
locked the office on her way out to the street.
In her
rush, she broke one of those fucia fingernails, began searching in her purse
for a nail file, and didn’t watch the traffic. A city bus crushed Anne Marie as
soon as she ran into the street.
Interesting story, Sherrie. Nicely written, with a twist at the end. Anne Marie certainly dealt with a lot of “as soon as” elements in her life. Too bad that she got killed before she could enjoy having freed herself from the limiting beliefs.
You did a wonderful job of projecting Anne Marie as completely stuck in her job. I felt so frustrated for her!
Now, couldn’t she have lived and been in the hospital and found her moment of clarity to finally quit her job and change her life? I wanted that for her at least. Not the hospital part but the life clarity.
It was a great read! Well done and thank you for sharing!
I love how you captured her dilemma in this statement: “if I have to tell someone ‘Happy Trails’ again today, I’m gonna puke.” HA! You unpacked quite a bit in just 15 minutes. Good luck as you continue writing. Thanks for taking a risk and sharing your raw practice with us. It’s never easy!
I keep reading and writing for fun. But I still dream to become a real writer whose books could be read by many people. As English is my second language, I am still not very confident in using it to create my novel. i write short stories and I got many of them published in our local magazines but when I think of the NOVEL thing, I cringe by the thought of it. Anyway, I have a finished novel still waiting to be edited, tweaked and then finally … PUBLISHED… if I work on it. Thanks for all the good read in thewritepractice. They are all very helpful pieces and I do love reading them.
I’m so glad you stopped by, Felisa! Good luck as you continue writing.
Thanks, Sue for your empowering post. My “as soon as” moment is when I start getting paid for my not-yet-written short stories and essays. The angst I feel about “as soon as” is exacerbated by struggling to fire up my imagination. I know that if I keep writing, my idea of success has a better chance of coming to fruition, but is not the final step in my writing endeavors. Patience, process, and progress.
You’re welcome, Billie,
I like that “patience, process, and progress.” Keep writing!
The air was crisp and chilled. Goosebumps ran up her arms and a shiver ran down her back. She took a small sip of her coffee and wrapped her hands tighter around the warm mug. It was too cold to be sitting outside like this but she cherished these small moments to sit and be alone for a few minutes too much to give them up yet.
She heard yelling and a crash came from inside the house. She cringed. The twins were up already and she hadn’t even made it through half of her coffee. She slowly got to her feet and made her way to the door. She braced herself for a moment with her hand on the sliding door handle then slide the door open and went inside.
Rachel and Riley each had their hands on a game box. It was a matching game she had given them last week to help prepare them for kindergarten next year. The box was being yanked back and forth between them and Rachel was yelling at the top of her lungs. The box burst open and cards flew in the air like confetti. She lost her temper.
“Girls! What are you doing? You are supposed to be napping and you are not allowed to touch your games unless mommy helps you. Why don’t you listen!?”, she breathed heavily staring at them with wide, unbelieving eyes then shook her head.
The twins quieted down some and looked abashed then proceeded to wail. She ran her hands through her hair, twisting it in knots at the top of her head. As soon as they get into kindergarten I will be a good mom. I won’t lose my patience anymore. I’ll be better and I’ll help them with their homework. I just need them to start school. Someday I will be a good mother. I’ll teach them to be good people.
She sighed as she bent down and started cleaning up the cards. The twins quieted down and started running around the room.
“No, absolutely not. You made this mess now you are going to help clean it up!”
Rachel reluctantly grabbed a few cards from under the couch while Riley shoveled a pile into the box. Most of the cards had been haphazardly picked up and Riley came and sat in her lap with her thumb in her mouth. She relaxed a little as she folded the girl in her arms. I have to get her to stop doing that. When she is in school she won’t be able to suck her thumb like that. I’ll be a good mom someday and help her break the habit, but not today.
Rachel walked up to her with a card in her hand.
“Cat”, the little girl said with a smile.
“Did you find a picture of a cat, sweetheart?” Plucking the card from her small little hand she was about to expound on the color of the cat and how soft it was but her breath was taken away. The card did not have a picture of a cat on it but instead, it was the matching card that held the letters, C-A-T.
“Did you read that!?” she said in utter astonishment. They had been working on their letters and trying to sound out words. “That is wonderful Rachel! I’m so proud of you!”
Rachel’s smile widened at the praise and she bent down to touch her toes out of happiness.
“You did a good job Rachel!” Riley chimed in beaming at her sister with pride.
“Riley! You said your cha, correctly!” Before this point, Riley had always referred to her sister as Rash, unable to properly pronounce the ‘cha’ sound.
She sat back as the girls danced around in a small circle.
The rest of her day would be full of mishaps. Peas would be thrown on the ground. A temper tantrum would be had. One of the girls would sustain a small bump on the head after her mother took another few minutes for herself and used the restroom. Smiling, she realized with a quiet mixture of joy and sadness that she would never be able to live up to her standards of what a perfect mother should be but that her children were growing and learning and were good people. She had in fact, already met her goal.
I have finally made it well in my field. I am a fashion designer in New York and as a girl from small town midwest I never thought I would make it to where I am now. I don’t think anybody did. Now that I’ve finally ‘made it’ I can’t help but be utterly disappointed. It’s like I’m living “The Devil Wears Prada” movie and I can’t get out of it.
I’ve consumed books my entire life. In my AP English class in high school we had to pick one book to read and report on. Most chose “The Picture of Dorian Gray” because it was the smallest. I chose, “The Grapes of Wrath” and then proceeded to read every other book that was on the list before most had finished one small novel. I consumed books in my off hours. Dorky yes, but I love the written word. I wish I had had the intuition to be an English Major. I started in Fine Arts and then transferred to Fashion Design and now disappointment.
Why not use your experiences in the fashion industry to write some stories or a novel? That world lends itself well to drama or comedy. Take all the mess you wade around in every day that makes you unhappy or angry and use it to fuel some writing that may provide an outlet by writing about it. Try it. If nothing else, you might get an inner giggle.
Congrats on your success. I’m sorry it hasn’t been as fulfilling as you hoped. I think most people can identify with that on some level. Happiness is mostly a byproduct of purpose and passion in my experience.
Your reading is as strong an education and as advantageous as the degree (unless you want to teach– which is not lucrative, HA!). Keep reading and writing, letting your world inform and inspire. A great many writers kept day jobs they didn’t love to free their minds for the creative work they did after hours. Good luck!
Oh great. More writing. When will I get to where I am going….well, I would like to sell millions. But, for now, I get getting g a little support here, there. Maybe a nice review somewhere. And, just keep on a writing…
Thanks for reading! Good luck as you continue to write!
I write in French. I live in a small town, so small that everybody knows everybody. I write novels and short stories but published one only. For the others I am waiting to find nouns which I can give to my town and to its streets. Because I have never travelled abroad or even left my place of birth I continue to write with the thought that I will never publish. All what i Write takes place in this town and by consequence can’t be universal.
Oh, not true! I use the experiences of my family to fuel the characters and themes of my stories. Stories can take place on Jupiter or in a small town. Small towns have history and unusual occupants to observe and write about. A renowned Native author, Louise Erdrich, has written her novels about a small reservation community and the generations of a few families within that community. Sometimes we are too close to our family or town to recognize the possibilities. I have written many stories about my family, submitted most for publication, and have had most rejected. Rejection is disappointing, but the feeling of accomplishment and my own sense of self pulls me back to the writing.
Thanks for this comment Sherrie. You are right, Charlotte Brontë did not leave her village but her novels are master pieces of British litterature. To be frank, I lack courage to publish.
Good Sunday Morning, Madani–
Let me tell you about my first-ever submission in my very first college creative writing workshop: Twenty absolute strangers were reading my short story, and I was terrified. My hands shook, my legs trembled under the desk, and thoughts of all their teeth eating me in small bites raced through my mind. As my knees knocked together uncontrollably, my peers began to critique my work. Some liked it. Some did not. A few even had some good critiques that would make the piece a stronger story. But most had no useful points. Some got the theme of the story, but some did not. Most importantly, no big, sharp teeth roamed across the floor to eat my body from the toes up. I survived.
I went to attend many more workshops, accepting many more criticisms and praises of my stories. When I finished my studies in writing, the classes I missed the most were the workshops.
I have found that type of criticism and support in The Write Practice and Becoming Writer.
So, be brave. The first few times are daunting, but it gets easier. I suggest posting a story on Becoming Writer, if you are a member, using the comments of other writers to polish your story, and then submitting to a fledgling online publication. The trick is to match a publication with the theme of your story.
No moldy green teeth will come out of your computer and chew off your toes. You simply get an email accepting, rejecting, or asking for revision of your story.
And it gets easier. I got three rejections and ‘not the winner’ notifications on my birthday this year. What a bummer!
But I saw Sue Weems’ post “As Soon As” and wrote a little story. She gave me a mental kick out of my writing doldrum of feeling sorry for myself. So, the ‘rest of the story’ is to write and find a support group to help you become a better writer.
Your fellow writers know how hard it can be, and we are here to support you.
— Sherrie
Good evening Sherrie
As I told you before, I write in French I wish I would have mastered the English language to express myself clearly. The publishers in France and in my conutry are interested in one thing: to win money. It’s legitimate. Readers are interested in politic topics such as terrorism and breaking taboos. The good litterature ?It is not their problem( excuse me for this shameless brag) but the fact is that all my life I have been fond of classical authors such as the 19th century french writers, Victor Hugo, Balzac, Flaubert and so on and in English novels such Jane Eyre, Shirley and another of Charlotte Brontë, Oliver twist, David Copperfield and great expectations of Dickens and many English writers. I am telling you this because I find it difficult to abandon the beauty of the text to write according to the circumstances. I have published one novel( you can see it on the web : write Roman Madani and you will have the title : une corde et une Rose ( A rope and a rose).
As far as the courage is concerned, I am not afraid by the critiques but I cannot face the people who may find that i am talking about them.
Once more, thank you very much for your suggestions.
I have to agree with Sherrie. The more specific the place you write about, the more universal the themes can be. I think Agatha Christie’s character Miss Marple always said that everything she needed to know about human behavior, she learned in a tiny English village– that is was a microcosm of the larger world. Take heart and keep going!
Thank you, Sue.
Thanks to all for the comments on my little spoof story “As Soon As.” I agree that more time spent in the editing of the story could expand Anne Marie’s possibilities or build a more satisfying ending. But the task demanded writing for fifteen minutes. So I tried to be true to the mandate. The product came out raw and a bit ugly. Now I can take this draft and make a polished story out of it using all the helpful comments from all of you.
Thanks again for taking the time to read and comment on my writing.
— Sherrie
The air was crisp and chilled. Goosebumps ran up her arms and a shiver ran down her back. She took a small sip of her coffee and wrapped her hands tighter around the warm mug. It was too cold to be sitting outside like this but she cherished these small moments to sit and be alone for a few minutes too much to give them up yet.
She heard yelling and a crash came from inside the house. She cringed and one of her eyes twitched. The twins were up already and she hadn’t even made it through half of her coffee. She slowly got to her feet and made her way to the door. She braced herself for a moment with her hand on the sliding door handle then slide the door open and went inside.
Rachel and Riley each had their hands on a game box. It was a matching game she had given them last week to help prepare them for kindergarten next year. The box was being yanked back and forth between them and Rachel was yelling at the top of her lungs. The box burst open and cards flew in the air like confetti. She lost her temper.
“Girls! What are you doing? You are supposed to be napping and you are not allowed to touch your games unless mommy helps you. Why don’t you listen!?”, she breathed heavily staring at them with wide, unbelieving eyes then shook her head.
The twins quieted down some and looked abashed then proceeded to wail. She ran her hands through her hair, twisting it in knots at the top of her head. As soon as they get into kindergarten I will be a good mom. I won’t lose my patience anymore. I’ll be better and I’ll help them with their homework. I just need them to start school. Someday I will be a good mother. I’ll teach them to be good people.
She sighed as she bent down and started cleaning up the cards. The twins quieted down and started running around the room.
“No, absolutely not. You made this mess now you are going to help clean it up!”
Rachel reluctantly grabbed a few cards from under the couch while Riley shoveled a pile into the box. Most of the cards had been haphazardly picked up and Riley came and sat in her lap with her thumb in her mouth. She relaxed a little as she folded the girl in her arms. I have to get her to stop doing that. When she is in school she won’t be able to suck her thumb like that. I’ll be a good mom someday and help her break the habit, but not today.
Rachel walked up to her with a card in her hand.
“Cat”, the little girl said with a smile.
“Did you find a picture of a cat, sweetheart?” Plucking the card from her small little hand she was about to expound on the color of the cat and how soft it was but her breath was taken away. The card did not have a picture of a cat on it but instead, it was the matching card that held the letters, C-A-T.
“Did you read that!?” she said in utter astonishment. They had been working on their letters and trying to sound out words. “That is wonderful Rachel! I’m so proud of you!”
Rachel’s smile widened at the praise and she bent down to touch her toes out of happiness.
“You did a good job Rachel!” Riley chimed in beaming at her sister with pride.
“Riley! You said your cha, correctly!” Before this point, Riley had always referred to her sister as Rash, unable to properly pronounce the ‘cha’ sound.
She sat back as the girls danced around in a small circle.
The rest of her day would be full of mishaps. Peas would be thrown on the ground. A temper tantrum would be had. One of the girls would sustain a small bump on the head after her mother took another few minutes for herself and used the restroom. Smiling, she realized with a quiet mixture of joy and sadness that she would never be able to live up to her standards of what a perfect mother should be but that her children were growing and learning and were good people. She had in fact, already met her goal.
This took me back to those preschool years in vivid color. Whew, they are exhausting and rewarding years! (And too easy to wish away for me– three of my four are teens now). Thanks for sharing your practice with us. I really enjoyed it.
A sticky proposal is what’s become my ‘as soon as’. Your words have me back on track. The manuscript . . . every day. Then other things. Thank you. Write on!
Thanks for stopping by and commenting. Good luck as you continue!
I need to find purpose and meaning in my life. I decided to write to escape it when things got bad, now I am trying to write to improve it and possibly help others by what I have experienced and accomplished. Sherrie you mentioned using the experiences from your family to help write your stories. How exactly do you do that?
“My as soon as” is trying to find a way I can tell this story to help others with my experiences and accomplishments.
I have three or so short stories which started out as nonfiction, I want to turn into fiction. How can I do that to where it benefits me , changes some of the events and still has the meaning and purpose that I was hoping to acquire.
Thanks
I write short stories in Contemporary Fiction, but I keep saying that I will try writing in other genres. But because I haven’t read books in other genres, I feel like I need to know the rules in order to write a good story in other genres. I feel like I need to study stories in order to learn what works and what doesn’t. That’s my “as soon as…” moment.
But the more I say that to myself and to others, the more I’m told by others to just write. That the rules are more like guidelines. My fear in just writing the stories is that it won’t be any good. That I’ll be exposed as a newbie writer and that I’ll be told I have no business writing in whatever genre I choose to experiment with. But I need to push those fears aside and write.
You’re right, George. Push aside those fears and write. You *can* research a genre before writing, but give yourself a firm time limit or number of articles (especially for short fiction). You can probably find a loose outline of key scenes for almost any genre in 15 minutes, and then spend the rest of your writing time getting the words down. Our first attempts are never as strong as we like, but that’s what revision is for. We can’t edit a blank page. You can do it! Keep writing!
I’m having an issue getting started all of the sudden I can’t seem to get myself together. I keep saying I need a space to write, you know a desk and a space to think. I have the space but no desk. I’m working on it though. I haven’t written on my blog in weeks. 🙁
Dear Sue, I simply love what you write. This article is particularly inspiring. “We have to get familiar with the discomfort of always being a work in progress.” The words are very humbling. I treat this site as a living classroom for my daily dose of writing thoughts and inspiration. “Writing is not about making money…….its about enriching the lives of those who read your work and your life, as well.” The raison d’etre of a writer. God bless you. Randy Sahu
Fiddling, fiddling with the buttons in grandma’s tin. The sound of them music to her ears. Lift, drop, lift, drop. If only she could toss the tin and crawl about on the carpet to find each and every button. With her knees getting mat burn – oh! How wonderful that would be! If only she had the full use of her limbs instead of only a weak movement of her right hand. Lift, drop, lift, drop. As soon as her new power chair is delivered, she’ll be able to stand up. Well, be hoisted up by the cranks of the wheelchair until she is in a standing position. That will be something! Lift, drop, lift, drop. As soon as her body stretches out in full, she’ll be relieved of people looking down at her, speaking down at her. She’ll look them straight in the eye, matching the strength of her look with theirs. But still, they’ll have to pick up the buttons.
“As soon as we can move out of this frigid, hell-hole, armpit of New England I’ll be happy!”
“I’ll be a bull stag if you don’t complain, Evelyn! You live to complain! If we move to Arizona, you’ll complain about me running in the middle of no where, not knowing if I was alive or dead. If we move to California, you’ll complain about all their governmental restrictions! Hell, you already do, and you’ve never even been there! I can’t do this anymore with you!”
He slammed the front door behind him. Evelyn heard his truck peel out of the driveway. Her arm hairs stood on end. She wondered if he would be back.
Yesterday Harley had thrown her phone against the wall. She tried to power it up and sat for a moment looking at its cracks. That’ll be me soon, and I’m not going back to the loony bin, she thought.
It was 1:16pm. She sat at her computer and clicked on Maps and googled Redwood Forest. The nearest airport was Arcata-Eureka. She hesitated before clicking “One Way.”
Now, the clock read 1:35pm and she pushed her printed ticket into her shoulder purse. She opened the entryway closet, fumbled around in the dark behind hung jackets, and dragged her carry-on bag out through a myriad of carefully organized sneakers.
She left the closet door open and grinned wildly at the mess of big colorful sneakers now pouring out of the closet. She dropped her smashed phone onto the mess and walked to her bedroom to pack.
***
“This is the captain speaking, we ask that you please wear your seat belts until we get through this little bit of turbulence. We’ll be landing in the Arcata in about 30 minutes, and we hope you’ve enjoyed your trip.”