Little Darlings
A home for all the darlings I’ve killed.
When I started writing, the advice published authors most frequently offered me was to start a blog.
I’m not a blogger; I have no wisdom to impart on budding authors other than to write, and I mean all the time. Just like with everything else, practice helps develop the craft, and it was through practice that each “little darling” was born.
But the other common advice I heard was, “kill your darlings.” Sometimes in writing, an author must remove their favorite phrases, characters, or chapters for a better story to emerge. It can be brutal.
And that’s what these are. These scenes are my darlings that I have killed — stories that may not ever be read, living a new life as short scenes reimagined. Some may be boring and others ridiculous (and I warn you the quality will vary), but nonetheless, I hope they are entertaining.
Welcome to Little Darlings.
Darling Seven
When I started this book I assumed that I knew how to creatively write. It was honestly an amazing display of ego and one I’m rather proud of because if I had known how much I still had (and have) to learn then I might not have ever taken on this project.
Darling Six
When I started this book I assumed that I knew how to creatively write. It was honestly an amazing display of ego and one I’m rather proud of because if I had known how much I still had (and have) to learn then I might not have ever taken on this project.
Darling Five
I was at our local grocery store, standing in front of the refrigerated deli items, when an older woman came up to, pulled a small tub of potato salad off the shelf, and handed it to me. She was so unbelievably sweet and excited to share her love of this brand of potato salad that I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint her and refuse to buy the salad she dearly loved.
Darling Four
Warning: Contains Calamity’s Daughter spoilers!
Charlie’s head broke the surface of the water. The air smelled musty and stale, and she couldn’t make out anything in the murky darkness. She might as well have been floating in space, but at least she wasn’t in that goddamn tunnel anymore, and she didn’t drown. Overall it felt like a win.
Darling Three
Trigger warning: This story deals with sexual assault.
Louise chewed on her cheek, her head tilted in curiosity. A crimson pool slowly crept across the black and white laminate tile of her kitchen floor. It was a cheap upgrade to the near-ancient house when she first bought it, and now it was something she, regrettably, would have to replace again.
Darling Two
She needed to get out of the restaurant. Her eyes searched frantically for an exit. Realization dawned on her: Oliver had chosen the seat closest to the stairs, specifically to prevent her from leaving. This was a trap the entire time, it had been a trap, and she walked right in it. Snared like some goddamn fox.
She moved to get out of her seat, but Oliver’s firm grasp forced her back. “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned.
Darling One
Sophie gave her mother a gap-toothed grin while she snuggled deeper under her pink floral patchwork quilt. For what seemed like forever, she had painstakingly run her tongue over the bottom of each tooth, hoping to loosen them. In her six short years of life, the moments they popped from her head had been her most outstanding achievements. All of her friends had most of their adult teeth already, and she was not going to be left behind.