Why hasn't someone lassoed a few teenagers and had them sit down and write out all the supposed answers they have so we can solve the world's problems already?
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: humor problems teenagers richelle richelle-goodrich world-issues
The description of Huck’s father grabbed my full attention, and I glanced up at the book in my teacher’s hand as if to double check. My eyes bulged reflexively. Huck’s father was an abusive drunk just like mine. The boy was hopeful that a corpse found near the river was actually his dad, but it turned out not to be. It was spooky how high my hopes rose for the boy, and then sank so utterly low when the body was discovered to be a female in disguise. I should’ve mourned for the woman, but it was the boy I felt bad for.
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: empathy alcoholism abuse richelle richelle-goodrich
I went to bed without reading, instead staring out my window with the curtains drawn, wondering about boys. Why did they behave so oddly? One minute their teasing was relentless, and then bam!― they’d stun you with a thoughtful gesture. Either way, their actions made you want to cry. Maybe that was the intent.
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: boys relationships crying ya behavior richelle richelle-goodrich richelle-e-goodrich
I couldn’t think of anyone I’d ever felt sorry for. There were plenty of kids I was envious of. There were others I achingly admired, but that might simply be another form of jealousy. Then there were those I feared, dreaded. And the worst of them, the man who shamed me. I could see my father’s angry features looming over my mother. I could clearly picture her beside him in his truck, cowering against the door while he belittled and assaulted her.
I guess I did know someone I felt sorry for.
Tag: compassion empathy jealousy sympathy envy pity richelle richelle-goodrich
Don't underestimate the power of friendship. Those bonds are tight stitches that close up the holes you might otherwise fall through.
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: friendship friends relationships trials afflictions richelle hardships richelle-goodrich
I understand it was Derian who spoiled everything. He purposefully tainted your view of me and forced you to go along with him. I know none of what happened was your idea or your desire, Eena.”
She didn’t get up, but spoke from her curled position. Her voice was weak, still heavy with despair. “Derian didn’t force me to do anything.”
“But if he hadn’t influenced you, we would be enjoying a pleasant dinner again, telling stories and laughing. I’m sure that would be the case. You would be happy……and so would I.”
Eena chuckled without amusement.
“You have to admit we shared some very enjoyable evenings, didn’t we? There’s really no reason we can’t put this whole mess behind us and start from where we left off.” He sounded genuinely serious.
“You forget,” she reminded him, “I heard your conversation with the Ghengats. This isn’t about Derian, it’s about you.”
“Alright,” he admitted with an acquiescent sigh, “so I’m not everything you’d hoped for. But really, what man can ever live up to any woman’s terribly high expectations?”
This got her attention. She almost stood up to face him, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Leaning forward, she retorted, “Expecting a man to respect you, to be honest with you, and, oh yes, to not be a shameless murderer—I don’t think those are overly high expectations!”
He shrugged, casually excusing his faults. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“What do you want?” she finally asked, exasperated.
He squatted to her level and stated his desire. “I want you.”
Eena thought the expression on his face—the look in his weary blue eyes—appeared strangely sincere. But there was one thing she had learned from all this: never trust a master of deceit.
Tag: love lust desire perfection expectations deceit boyfriend richelle richelle-goodrich eena
Eena had thought the whole idea of his picture was absolutely wonderful and had asked Willum what kind of animal she might be. He’d responded after only a moment of thought.
“I think you’d be a crioness.”
“Why is that?”
“Because they can fly.”
“Why would that remind you of me?” She’d been unable to guess his reasoning.
“Because few animals can fly. You can do things others can’t do. Like flying. It’s magic.”
“Oh. How very clever.”
The comparison had left her both impressed and flattered.
Tag: animals fantasy magic flying accomplishments richelle richelle-goodrich eena
The calling that has been thrust upon you is likewise as demanding and daunting. I understand how you feel, believe me. But we need you, Eena. I would say I’m sorry, but……honestly I’d have no other woman take your place. You are exactly what we need. And yes, it does require a great deal of sacrifice, but you don’t have to bear these burdens alone. We are all here to help you. And believe me there isn’t one of us who wouldn’t give his last breath to defend yours so you might go on to heal Harrowbeth. Don’t block us out. Don’t think you have to stand alone. Please wake up and know that I understand. And I promise I won’t say, ‘I told you so.’”
The room fell quiet. Eena didn’t move. Derian could see how her breathing continued smoothly in and out just as before.
“I’ll give you some chocolate if you wake up.” It was a last-ditch effort. “I’ve got plenty of it, and I don’t care for the stuff.
Tag: friendship understanding chocolate richelle richelle-goodrich eena
The woman laughed again. She was the loudest person in the cave. Eena wondered if perhaps she was talking to a female Ghengat. Curiosity got the best of her and she turned around to look, surprised to find neither a Ghengat nor a Harrowbethian woman, but a Mishmorat. A striking, cheetah-spotted Mishmorat with straight lengths of charcoal hair and the most alluring dark eyes in existence. This bronzed female was the same size as Eena but observably more muscular. She appeared to be a mix of cheetah, Arabian princess, and gladiator in tight-fitting pants. Eena paused, dropping the stone in her hands.
“Kira?” she breathed.
“Hmmm,” the woman grumbled. Her painted eyes scrunched with displeasure. The look was still stunning. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
Eena gawked as if a legendary ghost had been resurrected. “You’re alive?
Tag: beauty legends richelle kira richelle-goodrich eena
When I finally find that one willing agent, I'll have found my prize in the Cracker Jack box.
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: writing author publishers agents richelle richelle-goodrich literary-agent
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