Excerpting

"Clouds in my Coffee" Photo by Sharleen Nelson

I apologize to you dear friends that actually read my ramblings, for not posting since well...forever. I've been busy with other projects that take priority only because I get PAID for doing them. The good news, for me anyway, is that my schedule now affords me the opportunity to devote more time to writing my novel, the title of which I formally announce today as...drum roll....Dead Relatives, Inc. 

To keep me on task and motivated, as an experiment, I've posted an excerpt today from a chapter I'm working on about a character in the book named Teddy. Any feedback is welcomed. Submitted for your approval:

Seven and three quarter miles west of Butternut Bend, the rain-soaked streets of downtown Stambourg seemed darker and grittier than its suburban location might suggest. With the exception of a greenish neon glow emanating from the interior of the all-night fold-n-fluff, a beam from the motion detector situated in the parking lot of the neighborhood convenience store across the street, and a diffuse speck of light coming from the upstairs apartment over Anderson's Pawn Shop, all the businesses that hugged Main Street were dark and curiously empty.

The only light source in his dimly lit living room came from the glow of the large 50-inch, flat-screen television mounted on the wall above the fireplace mantle. Sometimes the juxtaposition between dark and filtered light was the only thing that came between Teddy and his migraines. Most nights found the stocky and mostly diffident denizen cozily ensconced in his green faux leather Lazy boy,  stocking feet propped on two ornately embroidered pillows resting atop the glass coffee table as he enjoyed a light comedic sitcom or the occasional reality show of the train wreck variety—the kind he liked best required subtitles in which to follow along. But on those evenings when the encephalalgia gods hurled thunderbolts of ache at his throbbing temples, only the soft, overstuffed couch would do, providing a womb-like nest for him to burrow himself deep into with knees curled tightly beneath him in a near-fetal position. Though Teddy was not fond of the headaches, he accepted them. Pain was joy and punishment and that brought him strange comfort. -- Excerpted from Dead Relatives, Inc.