Critique_This_WIP

2. Write your scene - suggested word count is somewhere around 500 words.

3. Make sure your scene doesn't contain anything offensive and that it continues on in a sensible way from the previous post.*

4. If you're tagged (and we will make sure you're ok with it beforehand), you must write the scene in time for the Tuesday Tag Post - that means you'll have a week, no more, no less.

5. Tell us a little about yourself so we can do the introductory post right here, on Critique This WIP.

6. Have fun!

* we reserve the right to de-tag you if your scene is unacceptable.

So, here's a little about me: I live in North Dakota, I'm going to be teaching composition this fall at the local university, I have three kids, and I'm halfway through my MFA degree. My current writing projects include a paranormal romance series, a science fiction adventure/romance, and a screenplay. You can also find me at my blog, Musings of a Would-Be Writer, or on twitter, and there's always my bio here on the CTW page.

Now...on to my scene!

***

Jocelyn slumped in a chair at the table in the vast kitchen where the servants usually ate their meals. It hadn't taken much convincing for the catering staff to leave the kitchen. Those who hadn't scattered at Mother's stern look were more than happy to leave when she demanded they do so. Now they had the entire kitchen to themselves.

"Don't slouch, Jocelyn. It's bad for your posture," Mother said as she poured another shot of whiskey for each of them.

Jocelyn ignored the command. It was her wedding day, she'd slouch if she wanted to. She raised her glass in a toast. "To Gregory Allen Winston the Third, Earl of ..." Jocelyn stopped mid toast, unable to recall her former fiance's full title. "Earl of Somewhere." She finished, swallowing the shot in one gulp.

"Why in God's name would you drink a toast to that coward?" Mother asked.

"Because he's my hero. He had more guts than I did, and he did the right thing." Jocelyn said, then burped in very unladylike fashion.

Jocelyn and Gregory had been a perfect match, at least on paper. He was a horsebreeder, polo champion, nobility, and a perfect gentleman. But the one and only time they'd kissed, just after announcing their engagement, it had been like kissing her brother - complete with limp lips and sweaty hands. She'd had a feeling after that, from the polite and distant way in which he treated her, that he had the same nauseating panic of wrongness eating away at his gut that she had in hers. Of course in polite society you don't announce an engagement and then change your mind, so they'd soldiered on. Until today.

Against the rules of tradition Gregory had slipped into her dressing room right before the ceremony in a blithering hysteria. He couldn't go through with it. And then he'd disappeared, leaving her with the humiliation of stepping up to the altar and announcing her fiance's change of heart.

"Well, be that as it may, there is certainly a lot of damage control to be done. As for tonight, the wedding guests are all being fed, and there will be cocktails, but the party will be cut short. After that we'll need to get you back out in circulation quickly with your head held high," Mother said.

Jocelyn poured herself another shot, intent on getting good and drunk. "I think I'd much rather visit Tibet, or sail the Pacific, or backpack across America than get back in circulation, Mother. In fact, I'm definitely taking myself out of circulation as of right now." Her voice was beginning to slur as the whiskey warmth spread to her limbs and a grogginess crept around the edges of her mind.

Mother's lips formed a firm line, "There will be no Tibet, or sailboats for you, and especially no America. You will be the lady you are and do as you are told. Now, off to bed with you."

With a little help from Mother, Jocelyn was able to make it up the stairs and out of her now dirty and somewhat ragged wedding gown and into bed. With a sigh she snuggled into the pillow and pulled the blankets tight around her as Mother closed the door and finally left her alone. It was all well and good for Mother to make her pronouncements about sucking it up and holding her head up high and all that. But Jocelyn had a secret that Mother didn't know - not an easy feat to be sure - and his name was Colin Davis.

****

That's it! The next scene, on July 20th, will be written by....

Suzie Bethell-Thompson of Critique This WIP and Writer Junkie

If YOU want to be tagged in the near future (and get in on the fun!) please let us know via comments or e-mail at critiquethiswip(at)gmail(dot)com.

(*pssst* I've got a SECRET: we already have one tagee - so hurry to get yourself on the Tag List!)