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Genre: Literary Fiction
About lyndastyLocation: Columbia, SC Age:31 Favorite writers: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Anne Rice, early Laurell K. Hamilton, PN Elrod, and too many others to name Favorite music: Anything Non-noveling interests: scifi, fantasy, history |
Joined: October 1, 2006 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 0 NaNoWriMo buddies: 3
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Brief Author Bio: I've always loved to write. Anytime I had a paper or a project due for school, the best part was writing everything up. I eventually got my Bachelor's degree in English and have been writing fanfic and various original works of fiction/non-fiction ever since. I tried NaNo in 2006 but, due to Real Life, I had to quit but this year, 2009, I'm hoping is my magic year. |
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Synopsis: The Partially Untrue Story of Philipa's Too True Life
Philipa's life often varied from "the norm". She was never perceived as a child, or perceived at all, until her sister arrived. She found a home with her aunt and cousin only to be shuffled back to her parents. Philipa's story is a story of change and adaptation but also of finding love and acceptance where you least expect it.
Excerpt: The Partially Untrue Story of Philipa's Too True Life
Philipa looked at her sister as she walked into Philipa’s room. Philipa was putting pictures up of her and Terri and Theresa at Philipa’s last birthday, pictures of trips to the fairs, pictures of them in their backyard horsing around. All pictures of home to Philipa.
“So are you livin’ here now?” Caroline’s voice was tinny and small. Philipa sat down on her bed and craned her head to make sure her parents weren’t coming down the hall.
“Yeah…looks like. Is that okay with you?” Philipa tried to hate the little girl who looked more like a doll than an actual little girl but she couldn’t. With her curly brown hair and her big brown eyes, Caroline looked as lost as Philipa felt. Philipa patted the bed beside her and Caroline shuffled into the room.
“I think you’re pretty,” Caroline said, her fingers trailing through Philipa’s straight almost black hair. “I like that you’re livin’ here now.” Caroline laid her hand on Philipa’s and looked up at her. All Philipa could manage to do was hug her gently, afraid she’d break her.
“Thank you.” Philipa whispered into her hair and quickly, but gently, pulled away just in case her mother came gliding down the hall and saw how close the girls were getting.
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