Can YOU point out my bad first draft tendencies? It’s embarassing to put out there- but without bad first drafts, without vomiting the creative thoughts and half thoughts on the page there would never be anything to rewrite and then eventually publish. We gotta start somewhere. Here’s one hint—Filtering is – and in my case it’s occurring on a full CTO and diffusion scale. (to use film production terms, part of my former work day) What else is going on here?
Olivia found herself back at Billy’s house sitting on the edge of his twin mattress eating Doublestuff Oreos. The room smelled like dirty laundry, three day old sweaty t-shirts, and boy farts. Billy opened his window and hoped a breeze would blow soon. He grabbed the Febreze from under his bed and pumped some ‘vanilla and refresh’ scent into the room.
“If you died today, do you think you would go to heaven?” Olivia asked.
“Liv, that dude was a freak,” Billy said shuffling photo’s into a messy pile.
“So. It’s still a good question.”
She repositioned herself off a lumpy spot on the bed and brushed black crumbs from her thigh. Acutely aware of her body she couldn’t get comfortable, as if she felt every inch of herself growing. Looking down she saw her nipples poking out from under her t-shirt. She wondered if they’d be visible in her shadow. Billy stared at her.