Moving right along

Since the two snippets I’ve posted from my WIP have been so well-received, I think I’ll continue posting them.  It’s fun seeing what everyone thinks so far and hopefully the little teasers will help me to create curiosity about the book so that when it’s done, I’ll have lots of people ready and waiting to buy it.

Okay, that’s all a pipe dream, but hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?

Anyway, I finished writing Chapter Four today and that was when I realized that I never posted anything from Chapter Three.  So, lucky you, you get two bits for the price of one today!

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Be orange!

My first year of college was an eventful year in more ways than I had ever anticipated.  I was the only kid in my class who dreaded high school graduation; though I was excited about the new opportunities I would have in college, I was terrified of leaving my friends behind and starting over.  A few people from my school went to the same college I chose to attend and, as a private college, it was much smaller than the state universities so the class sizes were comparable to what I’d experienced in high school.

But I was on my own, for the first time.

Clear the roads!

It used to be that at age sixteen, you could get your driver’s license and hit the road, but when I was a teenager, Iowa passed a graduated licensure law.  What it amounted to was that at sixteen, assuming you had passed driver’s ed when you were fourteen and then passed your driving test down at the DMV, you would be granted a restricted license. You were not allowed to drive between the hours of midnight and six a.m.  You would receive your full (unrestricted) license at seventeen, assuming that you hadn’t been involved in any accidents or received any speeding tickets or anything during the preceding year.

What does all this have to do with a post about the age of eighteen?  Well, when I was twelve, my dad stopped driving and sold our car.  He’d been suffering from seizures (which had been misdiagnosed for years as TIAs and weren’t correctly diagnosed for many more years) that would cause him to lose his vision sometimes, so he voluntarily gave up driving.

Sort of.