Writing something I know for sure

A few months ago when I was feeling particularly frustrated with my book I decided to try something different.

Last year on a soccer tournament my friends suggested that I write a book about our soccer team. I thought about it for a while then realized that we’ve had our share of drama: death of parents, divorces, separations, illnesses, diseases and menopause (not me mind you).

So one day as I was waiting for a lobster dinner to begin, (work related activity). I took a green piece of paper and brainstormed events that had happened to our team or that I’d heard happen to someone else’s team. Things that have brought us together or made us complain. For eg. A breast pad falling out onto the field during a game, one of our players breaking the ribs of a player for an opposing team, being frustrated with our coach.

Then one day while I was bored at work I began writing a chapter. It was quite fun.

I just recently sent it to my soccer team and they thoroughly enjoyed trying to figure out who they are. A friend called me and said that when she read a certain section she was going to call me and suggest that it couldn’t possibly be her but then she re-read it again and said. “Yeah I’d do that.”

Anyway I thought I’d share a small excerpt from Chapter One. Of course now the problem is that I’m being pressured for Chapter Two. I’ve told them after March 1st (my deadline for queries).


After dinner Ellie sat down to read the paper while her husband and children watched TV. It was quiet for a change and she sat in the dimly lit kitchen flipping pages on their small town newspaper. The town council was in trouble for approving a land development. The local charity group thanked members of the community for contributing to a recent food drive. The south side high school basketball team had defeated the north side basketball team. She turned each page aimlessly, scanning the contents for something to peak her interest. Then she saw it, a story about a local lady who was interested in organizing a women’s soccer team to compete with neighboring towns. Anyone interested was to call the number below. Ellie’s heart jumped a beat. She hadn’t participated in many sports growing up. She played basketball in grade seven and had tried soccer for one season before that. All she remembered was having a hand ball in the box, which caused her coach to take her off the field and scream at her in front of all the parents and other players. In fact that’s all she remembered about playing sports were coaches yelling at her. No wondered she’d never pursued anything.

Things were different now, she thought to herself. She was a grown woman with three children, a husband and a home. She was independent and strong, plus surely a coach for a women’s team wouldn’t yell.

Visions of lush green fields with white lines floated through her head. Scenes of her in short black shorts kicking a ball through the air until it sailed passed a goalie and into a crisp white net. A slight smile appeared on her face as she looked up at the ceiling as though watching her vision unfold on the roof. This was her solution. No more sweaty gyms watching slim people get slimmer. No more running on a treadmill or trying to build muscle on weight machines. She would become a soccer player.

That's it for now, back to the YA book, which I just finished the climatic scene in the second to last chapter now I have to edit my wrap up chapter and I'm all done, well done for now.