So, I’m editing, as you know. And sometimes when you edit, you have to get rid of stuff you really like.
They call this “killing your darlings” in the writing industry.
Well, I have a scene that I love but it must go.
So, I thought I would share it with you!
Isabella looked at the clock. She had half an hour until Nick was supposed to pick her up.
And she was nowhere close to ready. She had been sitting in her room, showered and in her bathrobe, for the past two hours under the pretense that she was getting ready. She had done her nails… and that was it. Her dress still hung in the closet door hook—a floor length, sleeveless ball gown. The bodice was grey, but covered entirely in glistening, silver sequins. The sequins continued down the gown, spreading out gradually over a two-layered black skirt until it almost appeared as if one were staring at a clear night sky. Isabella would wear stars.
Perfect for the angel Nick seemed to think she was.
The thought of Nick made Isabella smile and blush and feel like she was going to be sick all at once. She stopped pacing in front of her desk and flopped onto her bed. She wrung her hands. Ever callus and weird thing stood out. Fencing had done her hands in.
She stood up again and looked in her hand mirror. She had looked in it more in the last hour than she had in the last six months. A large pimple, angry and red, stood out on her cheek.
She walked over to the floor mirror, pulled out of the attic and dusted for her. She ran her hands down her sides… she hadn’t fenced in weeks and she was gaining weight. How could fencing ruin her hands but not fencing allow her weight to increase? It didn’t seem fair!
Why did she feel like this? She didn’t want to fuss about her appearance. She hadn’t cared in months!
There was a knock on her door. Before Isabella could tell whoever it was that they could not come in, Shamira stepped into the room. She took one look at Isabella. “Hmm… cutting it kind of close, aren’t we, sweetheart?”
Isabella shrugged. “I don’t think I’m going to go.”
“Nonsense! Oh gracious, it would seem I’m not a minute too soon. Come here in front of me and hold still.” Shamira reached into her purse and pulled out what looked like a wooden knitting needle.
“Is that…” Isabella began.
“Yes. I am your fairy godmother, after all.” Shamira looked thoughtful for a minute then started moving the magic wand a bit. “Isabella, I know you are scared. But listen to me. Not every boy seeks to court you only to dump you for seemingly no reason. And I know that what you went through with Claude was traumatic. But I think you need to relax a bit. Allow someone you like work his way into your heart. Because he is trying.”
Isabella was silent. Was Shamira’s claim that Nick was trying based on real fact or was it just an assumption? And even if Nick was trying, Claude had, too.
“Look in the mirror.” Shamira said.
Isabella started when she saw the girl staring back at her. She was wearing the dress, her hair was up with a few red curls hanging loose, and the pimple had disappeared. She forgot about her callused hands.
“Isabella!” her dad called. “Nick is here!”