I'm Back, Baby. Word Count 14,774

Actually, I never left. Sunday I was writing some much needed back story- the story of Tim and Reggie. A beautiful story, in my opinion. I just love Tim and Reggie. They just might be the next Fernie and Olga. Sigh. I liked what I wrote, but didn't feel like any of it was interesting enough to share. I will share a detail with you that is not in the book... the inspiration for their love story is the song "Summertime" by the New Kids On the Block. I liked to imagine that Tim's guilty pleasure was listening to that song as he drove, it always made him think about Reggie, and their summer together.
Yesterday, I made a trip into Toronto for a writing session with my friend Sarah, who is writing a book of short stories this month. Horror stories. I brought along some Silver Bullets, a $10 bag of peanut M&Ms, and some much needed NaNoWriMo inspiration. It was my first group writing session that I have had this month, and it reminded me of how much more fun it is to write with someone else. Here is what emerged from last night's session:

"After Tab effectively drove off Tim, his job of wooing Reggie was easy enough. Most things came easily to Tab. He was used to getting what he wanted. And for whatever reason, he wanted Reggie. They were the perfect couple. Both in the clinical psychology programme, both studying under the renowned Dr. Von Sheintzmeinpantz. Tab was doing really revolutionary research in ego formation as it relates to parental loss, and Reggie was doing related work, though more on the applied as opposed to theoretical side. Reggie wanted to work with grieving children. She dreamed of someday opening her own clinic. She almost doesn’t recognize the Reggie she used to be, the one with the big dreams, the one with the hopelessly idealistic fantasy that she could take her own pain and turn it into a way to heal others. A way to heal herself.
Dr. Von Sheintzmeinpantz was not the best clinical supervisor, it was true. He had an odd habit of wearing leather pants. And if that weren’t bad enough, he would pair these with a tweed jacket, the kind with the suede patches on the elbow. A man who dresses in this fashion is surely more interested in his own self-aggrandizement than he is in the accomplishments of his protégées. But Reggie never blamed Dr. Von Sheintzmeinpantz for her own failings. No, she only had herself to blame for that.
Speaking of Dr. Von Sheintzmanpantz, he would probably be putting in an appearance at her father’s funeral. Reggie hoped that he had the good sense to not wear those goddamned leather pants. Some disconcerting rumours had circulated about those pants, sometime around the time Dr. Von Sheintzmeinpantz’s fiancée had abruptly broken it off with him. Rumours that something untoward had happened in those pants during a night time stroll through the woods one evening. Something unmentionable.
But despite what may or may not have occurred to Dr. Von Sheintzmeinpantz and his leather pants, Reggie and Tab had been happy. They were good together. His fastidiousness offset her chaos. They were well matched in terms of ambition. They drove each other to greater accomplishments than they might have reached had they been alone. When Tab asked her to marry him during their second year of graduate studies, it seemed as thought everything was falling into place, as though the square peg had found its accompanying square hole, with a satisfying click. Reggie had said yes, and it seemed as though her future was set. How very wrong she was. By the time Reggie imploded during their third year, the satisfying click had begun to sound like the clang of a jailhouse door locking into place."

Also, I have decided to write a bit from Reggie's mother's perspective, since she was a character I didn't understand at all. In fact, I understood her so little, that I couldn't imagine writing any dialogue for her, because I had no idea what she would say. Problematic, as I'm sure you all will understand. Patricia's voice surprised me. A lot. Right out of the gate she referred to Tab's mother as "his twat of a mother". I stopped what I was doing immediately, wondering where that had come from, surely not Patricia? But then I thought, well, I guess I'll let her have her say and keep going. It turns out that her outward appearance and her inner life are worlds apart. The photo above is what Tab looks like.