From my novel – it’s a heart warming story about sisters living two totally different lives, on different continents, conveyed through letters back and forth between them. I’m really proud of this one and I want to get it just right- its my baby. Since I hope to publish it soon, I’ll only post excerpts in no particular order. You probably won’t be able to follow the story from the excerpts, but you can still appreciate the writing, I hope.
The Book of Leslie
It is midnightish and the husband is snoring – rhythmic paced vibrations, my very own white noise that I find oddly comforting, allowing me the mind space to zone out and read, no savor, your letter.
It was waiting for me, your letter, like a prize- half propped on top of all the other stuff- glossy magazines, junk mail, bills and what not. In this day of email, bbms, Facebook and all the rest, a letter from across the ocean is just what the doctor orders for your ‘literary -head’ sister.
Omigosh, the hubby actually checked the mail! You laugh, but usually, that, along with taking out the recycling and wiping down the toilet seats, sprayed with his pee, mind, are things beyond his comprehension. But I promised in my last letter that I would not bore you with my ‘ancient marrieds’ gripes anymore. Besides, Steve and I have reached the point where we’ve finally worked out all the kinks, the sex is regular if not always earth shattering, communication is better and we’ve learned to scrupulously avoid doing the things that drive each other crazy.
It may seem dull to some (read: You, Mani- ha!), but it is an enduring one – and we are both in it for the long haul, I truly believe this.
But enough about my dreary existence -let’s talk about you, Miss thang! It amuses me that it amuses you just how much I live vicariously through your exploits, Mani! Oh, that I could walk a mile in your Manolos (Louboutins?) – how do you afford it all? Oh, I forgot, you are a kept woman now ( smiley face). No judgements here, Mani, you know I love you. And want to be you. (smiles). I may not agree with all your choices but I envy you for the freedom with which you choose. And choose you do, sister.
Where I spent months agonizing as to whether to get my MBA or pursue my writing, you left your great paying bank job and fearlessly pursued your business venture – “buying and selling” you called it, until you got anothergreat job in advertising. And I tell you, this new gig was made for you.
I can see you now, with your three or four cell phones going off, while you are on the computer, clad in some terribly expensive, impossibly chic outfit, that is probably totally inappropriate for work, but you make it work for you, somehow. I pity the unschooled lesser mortals that try to follow suit, ha!