Welcome to the Fourth Edition of Fiction Friday!
So glad you’re here. It is my hope that many of you will join us by linking your fiction post. Please read many of the links and be generous in your comments.
Help us share the opportunity by grabbing a Fiction Friday Button and proudly displaying it on your blog. We’d also love a tweet or stumble or facebook share. Some of the most skilled, prolific writers are bloggers, so let’s help each other out. Thank You!
Fiction Friday with The Domestic Fringe
The rules are as follows:
- Write fiction.
- Provide a link back to my Fiction Friday post right here on The Domestic Fringe.
- Add your specific URL to the green Mr. Linky
- Read other blogger’s fiction and give some comment love.
- Throw caution to the wind and take a chance.
Remember: Each of the linked works of fiction are original (Including my own!). They are not to be borrowed, copied, or reprinted in any way. Thank you for respecting each author’s original writing.
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Yesterday I said my post would be late, but I had no idea we’d get a bad thunderstorm last night and the server for our internet connection would be down due to lightning. I guess I’m glad I wasn’t planning to post early in the day. 
Today I’m giving you a bit of dialogue. It comes at the end of chapter two, post funeral for Francine, Lacy’s Mimi. I know I’m skipping around, but I’d like a little feedback on the dialogue.
Thanks so much for reading!
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Tony took Lacy by the elbow and pushed them through the crowd. The mood in The Elks Lodge went from sorrow, to an alcohol induced mourning for a once peaceful and quite town. Tony pushed open the old wooden door and Lacy gulped cool air. She felt her head clear as she walked down the steps and across the gravel lot.
“My truck’s just around the corner. I left it here earlier today knowing I’d need it tonight.”
Opening the passenger’s side door, Tony asked “Where are you staying? Mason said you wouldn’t stay at his house.”
“I’m at the Knight’s Inn. As much as I love Mason’s girls, I just couldn’t stay there. I needed some time alone.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve had for the last five years? No one’s even seen you in all that time.”
Tony walked around and got in the driver’s seat.
“You always going shut me out Lacy? I thought we were friends, at least we were a long time ago.”
“Tony, we are friends. It’s just that…I can’t…I don’t know.” Lacy leaned her head on the cold window and glanced over at Tony. “You know I spent time in a psyche hospital last fall?”
“Oh, Flower.” Using her childhood name, Tony reached over and grabbed her hand, warm with the life of a girl he no longer knew. “I didn’t know. Mason never told me.”
“Mason didn’t know. I want to keep it that way. They said I have a psychiatric disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder. I guess I never really knew who I was anyway.”
“Did they help you?”
“At the time yes, but it’s the voices…I just can’t quiet them, especially at night.”
“What do they say?”
“Different things. Mostly they tell me things I already know, but I’ve tried to forget. It’s like my memory comes to life and I can’t silence it. Do you know what it’s like to have people talking to you in your head, reminding you of how screwed up you are, how you’ll never be normal, how no-one will ever love you?”
“Lacy, I’m…”
“Please Tony. Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I don’t want sympathy. I want to be free. I want to be human, the normal girl next door. I don’t want to live like this.”
“Lacy, don’t say that. You are normal. Remember all the times we had fun, the times we cut school and went ice-skating down at the pond? You’re not crazy. You’re hurting and you won’t let anyone close enough to help you. Who’s helping you in New York?”
“I see Jayne Sellers, a psychotherapist, once a week. Actually, I have her on speed dial. I met her in the hospital and she’s been talking to me, helping me deal with things. Sometimes I just wonder if it’s enough. If the voices will ever stop.”
“Look at me, please.”
Lacy turned and looked Tony full in his blue eyes.
“I want to help you too, Lacy. Please let me.”
Your turn!
Oh Lord Fringe I have been crazy busy and not able to post..I hate missing being part of your group!! Next week I promise..I will ne home Sunday and back to normal!
I finally made it over here… been wanting to participate in Fiction Friday for weeks! The dialogue in your story reads easily and naturally, and the characters are credible. My submission features the inner monologue of a house cat, patterned after our own cat Lucky. I always figure that a cat’s inner thoughts are not nearly as cute as the cat’s appearance!
I think it sounds realistic. I have one little question. Should it be “Mason doesn’t know” instead of “Mason didn’t know.”?
The first agrees with the next sentence better.
The second agrees with the previous. It probably doesn’t matter, but I tend to obsess over things like that.
I wanted to ask you about the rules here. I write for a writing prompt on another site. Is it okay to post what I’ve written for that here, as long as it’s fiction? I should tell you that there is a link to the other site on the bottom of the post. Let me know. Thanks!
Hmmm…now you’ve got me stumped! Didn’t or doesn’t? I don’t know! I guess I’ll have to think about it. Thanks for pointing it out. I never see these things. Well, I see some things, but only if I let it sit for a while and go back. If I just wrote, it’s like I’m blind to everything stupid.
Sure, you can post something you wrote for another prompt. I’d just appreciate a link back. I’d like to have the linky be a central place for people to go read fiction. Some writers are awesome reviewers and editors. I’m not, but I want to help the writers who link get feedback. Not sure if that made any sense. At any rate, I’d love for you to link your writing.
-FringeGirl
It was worth the wait. Thanks for the read.
I think it’s about time Jayne Sellers got bit by a dog on the face.
I am SO glad you commented!!! I just found a huge mistake. I named two characters Jayne. How could I have done it? It’s funny how when I’m in the middle of writing, I miss the most obvious things. So thanks! I’m sure I or someone else would have caught the mistake sooner or later, but it’s easier to fix these things early on. OK. The psychotherapist is about to get a new name.