Finally Posting My 1st Baby! (7-page Excerpt)

Wondering where I been?  Becoming Jane Austen.

For my late blossoming mind, it took me 35 years to finally learn the writing process.
To write, to act, to love is to bring the proclivities within each of us, which we are taught to hide, out into the public.

I took the year off to clean up the rubble left over from the destruction of my demons released while searching through the Wal-mart bin of within my soul. The years of stories I burned in a sacrifice, I also burned out my demons.
Now, I can begin to write...with God.

From what I hear through all my screenwriting education, you should know by the first page whether I did Jane any justice or have her getting a lawyer at my weary attempt.

Let me know...my email is nisye46@hotmail.com.  But from what I hear, she might be happy about the writing. ;)

Until then have a sit, steal a sip of a page of my beloved Jane Austen-tribute (second draft) My Black Pride and Prejudice:

My Black Pride and Prejudice 

After the day extended beyond her patience, Giselle washed half

of her impediments away in the shower. Still tempered by the

evenings occasion, she clears the mirror with the towel. Staring at

her naturalness and her poufy hair shrunken into a minor ball

amassed above her head.

“Total waste of time.” She said.

She takes some lotion and rubs it over her hands and arms. Her

slip dress is draped over the edge of the bed with the shoes thrown to

the side. She tosses it without a care into the laundry basket across

the room on the floor.

She clicked the lamp on the nightstand. Resting inactive beside

the bed were her blank pages ready to accept all of her frustrations of

the day just to be later burn and forgotten forever. Just as she

promised her late Big Mama. 

Burn Letter Number #2

Adonis. The David. An half hour after our entrance into the

hotel's events room, and before I could catch my thoughts, those

were the impressions my senseless mind afforded me the moment I

saw our new neighbor escorted by another gentleman and a woman.

The music stopped and all activities ceased. Dancers formed a

line and every participant turned their full attention to our dear

neighbor, Mr. Washington, and his houseguest who appeared at the

entranceway.

Then the reason why the music and all life ceased upon their

presence was the living fact that they were the sole purpose for the

occasion. The snooty announcer walked up and pronounced that the

god is a Junior. His deceased father's name was just as important,

they made sure we all knew of their connection. Because of him, we

were all happy to be allowed to be in his presence for the charity of

children.He just looked straight ahead walking in step with his party

commanding the attention and the applause that followed. As soon

as they took their positions at their respectable corner, the music

quickly began again and the dancing returned with laughter.

He walked in without a trace of a smile wearing his thousand

dollar Italian-cut three-piece suit. Any person who describes him to

anyone else would say he looked like Bruce Leroy from my father's

favorite cult classic “The Last Dragon” played by Taimak Guarriello.

Only he looked to be in his late 30s or early 40s. 

His nose and chin rose above the normal imaginary line we

others obey daily. 

I was quickly told the man and woman with him, the Giovannis,

were the true owners of the house above our hill and our actual new

neighbors, the one receiving the attention was their guest. He walked

in as if he owned the place and all of us in it. Such arrogance! 

This was my second opinion of him. Then my other thought, to

my recollection, was that such a man so beautiful in status could

exercise his smarts, but not be overly pretenious with figures, and I

was assured that no one with such looks could ever be in a long

committed relationship. 

He would hold too high a regard for the efforts he puts into

catching the eyes of others. He no doubt is the sort that expects a

woman whose appearance were not so plain as mine, but far superior

to a model.

Everyone wants someone better than themselves, if even they

are half delusional of their own granduer. I have never met someone

who would want a partner that they thought inferior to themselves. 

Even though father is a mayor, my silly sister's behavior in the

tabloids drops us way below the poverty line when it comes to

prominence in Manhattan.

As far as a match, I or any other lady present, except Velvet,would be ill fit to waste our time as he would not even 'see' us, even

though our wits could possibly outdo his. Who does he think he is?

Silly man.

I went to college for three years and was senior editor of a

California newspaper, not quite lower class, Buddy. I hate such a

man.

One who can't get past the first look of someone even though

she is more of a treasure than the halfwits who only put up airs. I

was so sure of my measure of him that I wanted to solidify it and

have a witness so I told Velvet all of my thoughts. 

“Just watch. Beautiful, rich and minding his 'P's'' and 'Q's' and

as soon as he opens his mouth all of that will be in vain with such

ugliness inside.” 

Of course Velvet's sweetness has not been challenged yet in life

and she still sees everyone through glasses still unbroken.

His friend beside him was an Italian gentleman who caught my

sister's eyes. 

“I wonder who that is?” 

“His lover perhaps?” I quipped.

My sister quickly stuck up for him saying I don't know him and

should wait to judge, if ever.

“No, I am sure I am correct on all accounts of him.” I told her.

I knew there was some truth to the matter. No two men should

look so wildly engaging with one another and be straight. But as soon

as I said it, he darted his eyes at the two of us as if he heard my

blantant comment and just as quickly turned away.

The pair of them could not be anymore different. I couldn't

believe someone so stern looking could have ever had a happy

moment in his life. The problem I had with the whole matter is I

couldn't stop stealing glances at him - even if it was in disdain.Any talent to offer conversation to such a man would be wildly

ignored. My sister and I were well aware of the fact that, be it as it

may, he was actually 'on the clock' helping the negro poor with such

events as these. 

I just know in his afternoon hours, he was far from spending

time with anyone of that nature. Especially girls like my crazy sisters.

I can't even stand their cattiness. Of course Velvet would be the one

exception to any man's prejudices. 

Just the mere presence of the beast made my blood curl. That

was not the worst of it all. He in fact could not clear his name from

my 'gripe' list as the evening progressed. So much to the fact that I

am here writing this letter with such contempt. 

Mr. Giovanni, the light-hearted friend of Mr. Pompous, actually

had the decency to ask my fair-skinned sister for two dances. Every

guy wanted to partner with my sister, but Mr. G was the only one she

accepted. Of course with my mother's strong urging. 

In between dances, Mr. Giovanni walked over toward Junior and

told him that there are so many women with whom he could dance. 

He held onto his drink stiffly barely looking anywhere but straight

ahead like a soldier. His giddy friend was having a terrible time

convincing Mr. Washington to leave his safe corner and have a dance.

This is how the whole evening went. 

I danced with a sweaty older man, a man shorter than I was and

a regular gentleman. I listened to mother gossip, I would refill my

snack plate, then repeat again. 

Upon speculation I could not understand why the more I glanced

his way or thought of him my blood boiled even more! He just

reminded me of so many men I had come across in my travels. I hope

that after placing it here on this paper and burning it, every detail of

it will finally leave my memory.

I had left my senses and listened to my forceful mother andforged a conversation with him. She told me his name was Mr.

Washington. Maybe it was my own prejudice against him or his

against mine, but this is how it went. With a nudging from my

mother I approached him.

I walked up to him and nodded my head and introduced myself

as his neighbor, the first house beneath the Giovannis.

“Would you like to dance?”

He looked at me and had the nerve to look away.

“I assure you I am not dancing this evening.”

“My father and I are happy to receive an invitation. I love

having a reason to go about the city.”

He cuts off my conversation so coldly.

“If you excuse me.” Just like that, he walked away from me.

Even though I had no intentions of speaking to him in the first

place I had to admit that I felt a sting from the rejection. I don't know

what woman wouldn't.

I went to retreat in my own corner. He immediately was

bombarded by his lovely friend who was estactic about dancing with

my dear sister. I never seen a man who did not care that the whole

world could read his very thoughts on his sweet little face. I still

wonder how any Washington or Giovanni could have any sort of

friendship.

“You should not waste your concerns on me.” Mr. Washington

said holding his arms behind his back staring at some spot in the far

distance.

“I see you just enjoy showing up to such recreations, paying for

them and never partaking.”

“You should know by now, I don't waste my time in dancing. I

believe I am fine right here.”

Charlotte walked over to the food table that I was “protecting”

and grabbed a grape. 

The only way to start a conversation with her was to repeat

mother's gossip, “I was told you met Mr. Washington and Mr. Giovanniearly this week.”

“Does the whole city know everything about everybody?”

“Yes, my mother is the whole city.”

“What do you think of our new inquisitor?”

“I wouldn't know. He is quite stoic and quite relentless to make

sure not a bit of emotion comes across his face so you can have the

slightest guess of his thoughts. Such a cold demeanor. I suppose his

high position in life requires such an effort.”

Mr. Giovanni was anxious to convince his friend, “You could have

your pick of any girl in this room. Why don't you show society you

could be social for once?”

Mr. Washington gave him a blank look.

“You have known I never cared for what anyone thinks.”

“Fair, fair. But, such beauty awaits you.”

“I dare say, since leaving, the city the pickings are farther down

the scale then I had wished. As for tonight, you were dancing with

the only one worthy of a second look.”

“Yes, yes. She is such a delight.”

Then his friend losing his wiles glanced at me. I of course knew

they had no possibility of knowing that I could hear their words.

“Look, her sister, who I believe is sitting over there, she is a

beauty as well, is she not?”

I pretended to look over at my teen sisters having too much fun

dancing with a few young men and showing too much skin as Mr.

Washington turned to monitor me.

“She's quite pretty. Nothing that would interest me.”

“But-”

“Wesley.” He laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and I thought he

was going to give him an uppercut or a jab with the other hand.

“Do not waste your time on me. I'll survive the night, but I'll

survive it even more if you would just be careful how much you show

your desire for any of these women. Each one of them in here knows

who you are.” He dranked the last of his water.

“Well.” He slaps his arm on his shoulder and for a moment I wassure they were in love and fighting the feelings.

Mr. Giovanni finally walked off in defeat.

“Dear, Sister!” My sisters screamed for me across the room.

I would have to pass Mr. Washington to keep from stepping onto

the dance floor. Why should I care anyway, I thought and proudly

walked by him almost brushing up against his masculinity. Velvet

grabbed me and wanted to tell me how great of a time she was

having and pointed to the unfortunate friend of the Mr. Washington.

I could have sworn the Greek god gave me a glance as we both

laughed at Mr. Giovanni's animated speak with his guests, which we

all adored. I just returned his glance with a quizzical look to make

sure there was not a hint of a smile attached before engaging with my

sisters once more. He of course looked away and never danced or left

his position the whole night. 

I end this burn letter with great pleasure in knowing I was right

about that type of man. He confirmed it in every sense of the term. I

will not wave at him when they ride past our house, because he is

dead to me just as I am to him. His standard is so high he will never

find a woman to please him. Such manners! If he doesn't see

beyond beauty to be “interested enough” then I will be glad to be rid

of him. All memories of him are deleted!

My Black Pride on Facebook

Well, welcome to an awesome Saturday morning.  If it still snowing where you are, then you'll enjoy the summer better.  If you are already enjoying the summer benefits this May, you'll be hotter than a potato wrapped in foil in no time.  But don't despair, everything in due time.

I have started writing again and have no further desire to divulge the secrets of my true story and wish to wait for the finale in the final book to reveal the outcomes.  Isn't that something?  A woman letting you in and shutting the window on your very fingers? SMH

Pride and Prejudice is a book loved worldwide by women that are of all ages enraptured in a really modern-day fairy tale.  There is the stone castle, the handsome gentleman, the non-damsel in distress and the two very different worlds into which the two insufferable characters are born.

Despite the differences, the despite all that the external world fears of these two hearts joining together, the true story isn't just about the chemistry and passion that these differences create.  No, the biggest story that will have people saying Jane Austen's name in 100 more years is the fact the two had the courage to keep growing and bringing themselves to lower their pride to continue along their journey to come together finally.

I think this is the bigger magic in a climate and world full of true stories of people giving up on their loves just to save face or not become the better person they are supposed to be.  Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were given to us as a gift.

An example from an pretty extraordinary petite woman with a plain name to teach us modern girls how not to forget to sometimes to be the girl and let the man become a man.  Well that is all for now.  I truly am changing directions these next few months and will return to this board at a much later date.

Right now, my focus should be on Giselle and her character's world which I will continue to write delightfully with my heavenly writing partner. So, much of my world has been knocked and turned around now for the better that I could not possibly live in another world until I found my own once again.

My about pag tells you how this story came to me out of the blue! I appreciate those who come every Saturday to shoot the breeze, but I promise to be more engaging in the new Facebook page I just created today here: http://www.facebook.com/myblackprideandprejudice .  Now is the time to do what most writers do.  Only I completely stopped drinking and writing years ago, Steven King wink ;).

He accurately admits that the first years and books could be praised due to his lifting the bottle until his wife threatened to leave him.  Yes, it is so much easier to let the spirits take over and write your tale, I would have a shallow career by now if I did and would be in rehab.  But I'm proud to say that I owe my growth and non-career to the Heavenly Father who kept saying 'not now a better you is need before I let you off the hook'.  He was correct.

Writing words is every bit of recording someone's soul on the pages for someone to sit with for hours.  It is best to give the best account of that self and record of your learning as art can breathe life as well as death into someone else's soul.  And this is why I am an extremely starving artist.  But if you like the depth, follow me on Twitter where I have even crazier notions.  Love you all.  http://www.twitter.com/iamdenisemorris.

Until then smooches,
Denise R. Morris

Even if Mr. Darcy Existed

You survived another week, you deserve to sleep a little bit before mowing the lawn or running to the mall.

I must say that I finally was able to write a little something.  But surprisingly, about part 2.  As I said before, it does not matter where this novel journey goes, it is a story that must be told and will be told no matter how many readers it reaches.  And it screams to continue.

Anyhow, I always see a lot of women who love Pride and Prejudice complain that there will never be a real Mr. Darcy.  I concur, if that word means I disagree.  Lately, I have lost my extreme eloquence in wording, but will be regaining that soon when I start reading again.

I know it's possible to have a real Mr. Darcy.  Let's examine why we love Mr. Darcy so much.  Well, let's get past the easy parts such as a great dresser, his know how and of course his high standard.  That's the external which is easy to have. But let's look deeper.  Why do we want a Mr. Darcy when he was very unagreeable, was detached from emotions, Elizabeth had more to talk about in every conversation, he complained about everything that did not have an iota to do with his standards and the list goes on.

I think what we love about Mr. Darcy is that DESPITE all of the negatives about him, no matter what, he still could not shake that Elizabeth shook him to the core of his soul and heart.  Mr. Darcy had the whole world and love castle in his hand waiting for society to see him through to the next generation only to forego all of his 'dreams' for the love of his life.  Something thought to be lower class, but actually deemed higher when all of the external pretenses were carried away.

Take away the 'charm' of Mr. Darcy and you have a very unagreeable man who fell in love with a very honest woman.  I believe if Mr. Darcy did not come to his senses the second time around, Elizabeth could have found a matchable suitor, not as passionate as she may have wanted, but she would not have died alone.

That is just my opinion.  Before we go off wishing for a magical Mr. Darcy, just see him for what he is, a regular man who fell in love beyond his reach.  But then that wouldn't be so romantic. ;) Well, it's about that time, I hope you have just as an agreeable week and enjoy the rest of your Saturday and make the best of it.  Smooches!


Denise R. Morris

Have We Lost Sight of the Fairy Tale?

I'm beginning to understand why so many people in the entertainment business check themselves into some kind of mental or rehab ward.  I just found out last night that I was being stalked by one of my real-life Mr. Darcy's fans online.  Well, new week.

I like to give a shout out to all the people who answered and gave me a prayer from last week's post about my situational real-life romantic comedy mix-up with my Mr. Darcy.  The next day I received the phone call I had been waiting for my breakthrough.  If you have been following my novel's updates, you will know that my Elizabeth character, Giselle's world is set in New York.

You will also know that a lot that was written in my book has come true.  So true that I am actually going to be scared as a writer to pursue any other form such as scary dramas other than romantic comedies with a very happy ending.

I wonder how Stephen King makes it through the years, even though in one interview he hinted that what he wrote about might not be all fiction but possibly true in what he sees spiritually.  If that is the case, then I'll fit right into the Hollywood mix.  Well, long story short, I received a call that I will be going to New York trip paid.  Where is my real-life Mr. Darcy?

Why, he lives in New York as well.  this call is coming many months ahead of schedule and actually as the months went on by, I didn't assume it would come at all.  I don't know about you, but as I have received this book from a revelation and believe deeply that there is a spiritual world full of good and bad people who have passed on, that I am being guided by the good people now more than ever.

Why did things work out this way?  Why go to New York now when there is not any communication with my Mr. Darcy anymore?  Well, I always try to rationalize everything.  I think so I can establish my own foundation there.

Do you believe in fairy tales, because I have and ever since this book was laid upon my lap by a bolt of lighting, I know fairy tales do come true for those who do not give up on them.  I believe dreams are waiting for those who are willing to walk a bloody path and fight a harsh battle just like in the stories with the princess at the top of the castle waiting for her knight to save her from the dragon.

My fairy tale was one inch from coming true like the knight was right at the other side of the door when he was snatched and carried away by the dragon.  Will I give up?  Stay tuned.

I think this is what is wrong with a lot of our entertainment today is that it reflects a people who have given up and lost the vision of reaching a world beyond our own crazy one.  I never gave up on mine and 35 years later it came to me and have started on part two of the journey.  Whoever prayed for me last Saturday you are a part of me forever.

If I leave soon, I will have to begin focusing on my mission there, and will keep my posts short, but will keep you posted every Saturday.  Even though you don't comment, I see you and thank you for helping me hang on by returning every Saturday when a sister was hanging on at the end of the rope of her dream.  Here's to fairy tales coming true to your heart.

True Love Never Dies,

Denise Rochelle

Life is Like a Box of Nutty Chocolates

Okay, well, we made it to another week. Congratulations.  I guess I can write this because I must have super strength even though my whole world is at a stand still.  Shocked.  Even when Mr. Darcy comes into my life, the universe won't let him come to me or me to him completely even messing up things, causing misunderstandings.  And then Pride arises and takes over.  What on earth could one possibly be talking about?  Life.  The world of love...even if you play by it the right way, somehow somebody comes and shakes up the box just to mix it up.

We know that Romantic Comedies are full of surprises, misunderstandings and mix ups to everyone's happy surprise.  Now, be honest.  Are you laughing out loud when these events happen in your own life.  I can tell you now, still not overcoming shock of a revelation that has innocently separated me and my Mr. Darcy, it is not funny and broken hearts are not something to laugh about.

I guess these romantic comedy writers really have lived what they are writing about.  Well, I mean before the poorly written ones of our day and time.  Like back in the Audrey Hepburn era all the way to the 90s when values were still in place.

Two people coming together, even if they are meant to be with each other will never have a straight path if they leave it up to fate.  Pride and Prejudice had several misses for Mr. Darcy, mostly the pride of Miss Elizabeth, who I have a faint notion actually fell in love with Mr. Darcy before the proposal and the only thing keeping her away from him was herself.

That's my conclusion with me.  Only in my case, I don't think I actually can fit into my Mr. Darcy's world like Ms. Elizabeth can in Mr. Darcy's castle. :)  I feel in his world could not except a 'commoner' like me and the singer he is with due to very poor miscommunication is what is best for him...for now.  Hopefully, we will be able to fly over the roadblocks to the shared dream we both have.  It's written in the stars just like Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Darcy.

Have a good week and keep me in your prayers, I've waited 13 years for my Mr. Darcy to show up and no movie style miscommunication is going to end that.

Love,
Denise Rochelle

What If Elizabeth Bennett Had Met Her Match?

Welcome to the weekend, Baby!  What a week and not a bit of writing for the whole month of March. It's too deep for words how a writer's good writing depends on a clear and healthy unstretched mind which I could not yield the entire month.  This is to hoping by May 1 to have a clean, out-of-this world final draft.  Yes, that is my goal.  To have a romantic comedy with spitfire rhetoric, snide remarks, jokes and an actual funny story.  All I have now is the basic foundation to a house.

We all remember Mr. Darcy's wildly arrogant aunt who boldly let's it be known that Elizabeth was not worthy of Mr. Darcy's hand for many accounts, plus he was betrothed to her niece since birth.  She has everything on paper that says she belongs to Mr. Darcy forever why would he possibly want Elizabeth who doesn't even have the ability to trace her family lineage and the ones who do show up are not worthy of the fine caliber Mr. Darcy.

I think this is the second appeal that draws the masses of swooning women to this tale.  The chance that someone out-of-their caliber per se would actually be able to look at the truth, the heart and forsake everything to unite their heart despite circumstances to be with them.

This is what drew me to Pride and Prejudice because it was similar to my situation, only the out-of-the league in the original guy who rejected me was only in his head as he was an unemployed and only thought his class and extreme beauty was in his head. He was like Mr. Darcy in the fact he looked his nose down at me because of my color even though he is black but doesn't know it, when I was more educated, nicer than his uncouth meanness and had hidden class. But this book resignated with me because I felt the essence of Elizabeth's pain after experiencing such an offensive person.

Remember how sickly they made Mr. Darcy's betrothed?  All of the movie versions have her looking weakly, ill, wearing glasses and not holding her head up and some characters are mousy and unattractive.  She seemed very docile and unchallenging to Mr. Darcy as if she would jump at his very command. This I did not like about the book.  It made it all too easy for Mr. Darcy to leave his position than if he really had affections for his fiancee.

What if he was actually in love and they have a nice history together and THEN here comes this charlatan who waltzes in and he has to make an even tougher decision to leave his position.  His friend's sister definitely tried to bring in this challenge in every way to undercut his attention from Elizabeth only to cut the very feet from underneath herself.

In my version I do not even bring any challenges either as it does seem it would interrupt the flow.  There is plenty of challenges just between Elizabeth, my Giselle and Mr. Darcy, my Mr. Washington's pride and prejudices of class and men/women relations.  BUT, I do plan to bring in certain other women challenge in part 2.

Well, that's enough jabbering for today, until next time see you next Saturday.

XOXO,
Denise Rochelle

Happy Easter!

 I didn't make my deadline for my update in time for this Easter weekend.  I haven't been able to write...I am looking forward as I continue to live the beginning of my dreams in reality and start to focus back on My Black Pride and Prejudice.

I am starting to see the whole picture of this story in a brighter light in the last few days after I had some revelations in dreams about black men and society. Some pretty deep stuff such as the new slavery in America and I feel an obligation to integrate it into this story.

I think every comedy, well writers are taught, every funny story is balanced with reality and we just have to see the light side of the most tragic things.  I think I'm coming to completion of my journey seeing it full circle of living the life of my Elizabeth character and as I move to the next level, I will have a clear point of Black Pride and will be able to finally do a final rewrite.  Writers should never think that they have writer's block if they are truly living their lives because while their story is being written they are writing.


Thank you lovelies...an have a lovely Saturday.  I think I will have something very good to report next week.

Until next time,
Denise Rochelle ;)