Deconstructing Tracy

Now that I finally finished the third Cast Down book I’ve thrown myself into working on three more books that were already in progress; a murder mystery involving a religious cult, the fourth Cast Down novel, and the darkly humorous riches to rags story of my life – Deconstructing Tracy. If you enjoy the blogs you will want to get the book. When I finish it. Hoping that is sooner than later. Here is a brief excerpt from the trauma that was my teenage life.

The summer after my freshman year of high school I tried out for a local community theater production of Blithe Spirit and got the title role in the show.  The role of the ghost.  The cast included a couple of people I knew, my best friend Linda tried out too and got the part of the maid.  She had two lines in the show.  The part of Madam Arcati, the whacky medium was played by a girl named Philine.  She was in college already, and her brother Erland was in a couple of movies (The Wanderers and Stir Crazy).  She was one of those larger-than-life personalities I loved being around and we hit it off immediately despite the age difference.  She’d brought some guy with her to audition, and he landed the role of my character’s husband, Charles.  His name was Mark.  He was a sophomore at Syracuse University, and I thought he was just the cat’s ass.  He was tall and handsome and kind of geeky but very manly.  Especially to a fifteen-year-old girl.  I was nuts about him immediately.  He and Philine seemed to be close but they didn’t give off that couple vibe so I figured the field was open.

            Yeah.  Like I even knew what to do with an open field.  Did I mention I was pathetic?  Oh, I was embarrassing.  But I flirted with him and to my surprise he flirted back!  I was too young to drive yet so Mark and Philine drove me everywhere that summer.  We went to the movies, we went to Friendly’s for dinner.  We hung out at Philine’s house almost every night and watched movies and goofed around.  Eventually he copped a feel, and I think we went parking one time before the summer was over.  I decided I was in love. 

            Did I mention I was pathetic?  Oh, I was embarrassing.

            Mark went back to college at the end of the summer, and he gave me his address up there so we could keep in touch.  I’m pretty sure that him wanting to me to keep in touch didn’t mean to write him a letter every single day

But I did. 

I did that. 

Every day. 

I could have bought my first car with the money I spent on envelopes and stamps.  Remember, we’re still talking about the summer of 1982 and there was no internet, no email, no texting.  In fact, when I called him, it cost me money because we were still paying for long distance back then.  The long- distance phone bill was probably the only reason that I didn’t follow up each daily letter with a daily phone call.


            He wrote back a few times.  Like a normal person.  I saw him when he came home for winter break.  By the time he came home the next summer I had my license, and my first car; a 1974 Pinto.


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