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Malcolmson’s haggard face appeared to brighten up when he laid his eyes on Suzy. “Ms. Randolph!” he exclaimed. “So good to see you.”

“You as well, Harold,” Suzy said.

And it was.

“I instructed my office to give you a call,” he said. “Were,” and he stretched out the word the way he was wont to do when posing a question, “they able to reach you yet.”

Harold Malcolmson was a nice man who’d spent over thirty years getting along with everyone in Congress. He could always be counted on whenever the Democrats were bringing a bill to the floor for a vote, but the Republicans often sung his praises about how reasonable he was when they reached across the aisle looking for support.

“You know, they haven’t, but my phone was ringing as I was heading over here to take this meeting,” Suzy replied.

With a record as immaculate as his when it came to playing well with others, and holding one of the longest active tenures, Malcolmson should have been a superstar on the Hill.

The operate phrase being ‘should have.’

“Ah, well, that’s understandable,” he said with a shrug.

The truth was, although he was always reliable to help the home team on a hotly contested bill, and even put aside differences for the good of the country, he rarely, if ever, proposed anything himself. He seemed content, just to spectate from the seats while other, more ambitious legislators, took central stage (and credit) for laws that might not have been passed without his help.

“But I do hope we’ll be able to sit down in the coming days. I had them call because there’s something I’m trying to pursue and I’d like all the help I can get.”

Oh, Harold, she thought as she smiled politely.

There was only one thing urgent enough that he’d want to discuss before the end of the week, and it was the same thing she was after. A coup for power.

You’ve relegated yourself to the sidelines for far too long old man. It’s the reason why you’d never be able to run for President. Your chummy history is your greatest flaw. All your opponents will harp about the little you’ve done in your time here. The Republicans will paint you as a leech on the American taxpayer.

“MALCOLMSON!” an enraged voice called from the belly of the office he’d just emerged from.

Malcolmson jumped, and nearly yelped. Suzy crunched her face to maintain her polite smile.

 “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? GET OUT, AND DON’T COME BACK UNTIL YOU’VE GOT IT DONE!”

This was all the proof she needed not to join whatever crusade Malcolmson wanted to embark on. All these decades in Congress, and he was everyone’s pal, but only after he delivered what they wanted. Until then, he was the legislative branch’s whipping boy.

He’d been re-elected forever, and in all likelihood, his friends in Congress would continue to campaign for him for every re-election until he finally chose to retire. But his legacy would be irrelevant, and all that time he spent in office would turn out to be an absolute waste. The last thing Suzy wanted to become was another Harold Malcolmson.

As 2019 is coming to a close, I thought I’d give an update on some of the things I’m working on:

For starters, I’m putting the finishing touches on my compilation of Dig Down serials and short stories, which I’m going to be offering as a FREE BOOK coming soon.

I’m finalizing the cover design and giving one last read through for my latest book, Lock the Doors, which I’m planning to release in January 2020.

I’m also starting to draft some initial short stories related to the world of Lock the Doors, which I expect to start releasing in late January/early February 2020.

Lastly, I’ve finished the first draft of my new manuscript, and will be starting the first round of edits/revisions around the holidays.

I miss having free time for myself.

Everyone in the office was scrambling when Suzy arrived. No matter how many times the secretary answered a line just to put the caller on hold, the phone lines continued to ring. Suzy was nearly bowled over twice by sprinting interns shouting “Outta my way!” as they bolted to fulfill some pressing job.

If it was chaos here, Suzy could only imagine what was going on with the Republicans.

“Can I help you?” the secretary asked, pausing her robotic delivery as she asked each caller to patiently hold for “Just a moment,” when she noticed Suzy. Suzy supposed she stood out being the only one not running circles around the room.

Suzy had met the secretary (she was pretty sure her name was Felicia) multiple times, but given the vacant look in Felicia’s eyes, Suzy got the impression the poor girl wouldn’t even be able to pick a picture of herself out of a lineup.

Everyone’s probably had to work overtime these past three weeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t seen the sun in days.

“Suzy Randolph,” she introduced herself as though they’d never met, even extending her hand to her. “I’m his eleven o’clock.”

“Oh, Ms. Randolph, right,” Felicia said, before her eyes dropped down, catching the flickering lights on her phones circuit board. The way Felicia’s face dropped, Suzy got the impression that most of the lines had been free just a moment ago. “They’re like weeds that won’t stop cropping up.”

“It must be tough,” she said, trying to empathize, so that the girl would be more willing to help.

“I…don’t want to bore you with the details,” she said, not looking up from blinking lights.

Suzy seized on the girl’s desire to want to return to putting callers on hold. “Well, I can see you’ve all got your hands full,” she began, and almost on the heels of the words coming out of her mouth, did a third intern nearly trample over her. “I can just head inside,” she said, pointing to the door and beginning her march inside.

“I’m sorry,” Felicia said, insistently, stopping her in her tracks. “But as you can imagine, he’s really busy, dealing with the latest…‘developments.’”

Suzy had prepared for this. “I understand completely,” she said confidently. “That’s why it’s imperative that I speak with him.” She adjusted her power suit for added effect. “I have the solution that’s going to get you all out of this hell,” she said, waving her arm around the manic room.

That should get me through the door.

“I hope you do,” Felicia said, earnestly. “It’s just…he’s currently in there, with another colleague…”

Suzy tried to keep her face from flushing. Had her purposeful tardiness backfired? Had she delayed her arrival long enough for one of her colleagues to snake some precious time?

A moment later, the door to his office opened, and she allowed herself a sigh of relief. No one had swooped in and stolen her timeslot with him. His prior meeting had just gone long. Her ease disintegrated when she saw who emerged from his office.

Malcolmson!

NaNoWriMo came to an end this past Saturday. I finished approximately just shy of 40,000 words. While this might be seen as a disappointment, I’m thrilled to say that I finished the first draft of my next book two days later.

Despite falling short, my first ever NaNoWriMo was a really fun experience. I started it with the hope that I’d be able to win, but also with an understanding that that most likely wasn’t going to be the case. Dig Down was approximately 36,000 words, and Lock the Doors is in the 38,000 range. In all honesty, I expected this one to be shortest yet, but I just found I had so much to say.

I plan on participating every year. I think next year, I may try to supplement my word count with other short stories to fill out the 50k requirement. I was also surprised how busy I was at the beginning and end of the month, and I’ll have to account for that for next time.

Either way, it was a blast participating and interacting with other writers. Until next year!

Whew! It’s been a very busy month. This contest has been a real challenge, and also a lot of fun.

The month started out rough trying to find the time to write. If you don’t count revising drafts, I hadn’t written a novel since February, and now I was asking myself to go from 0 to 50,000 in 30 days. On top of that, I had other obligations seemingly every day to start the month, making it that much harder to fit in time to write.

For this story, and for this contest, I started typing on 8 1/2 by 11 pages, and reduced my font size so I would have to fit more words on the page. This definitely helped me boost my word count, but it also made it that much longer to write a single page. My average speed has nearly doubled, or halved, depending on how you want to look at it. Writing a page has gone from a half hour to practically taking an hour for me to type one page.

That being said, I’m proud that I’m in the third and final section of my new book. This portion only has 3 chapters, and I’m almost done with the first, but the second I know is going to be a beast.

Coming down to the wire, and Thanksgiving staring me in the face, we’ll see how I do.

Suzy ignored the impatient knocking at the door while she was preparing herself. As irritated as the pounding might become, she didn’t doubt for a second that they knew which one of them was in charge.

She’d only been at her position for two years, but Suzy felt she was lagging behind in achieving her career goals. If she was going to follow the trajectory she’d always envisioned for her career, now was the time to act.

It made little difference to her if she ran a little late. What were a few minutes if it meant getting everything perfect?

 Suzy closed her eyes and mouthed her talking points one last time. When she opened them again to read her index card of notes, she saw her memorization had been perfect.

It better be perfect. It’s only the umpteen thousandth time I’ve gone over it.

“Are you about ready, Madam?” the near irate voice of her assistant called out from the other side of the oak.

“Just about,” Suzy nearly sang back.

Her office phone rang. She doubted her assistant would have the gall to call her as well. She dashed to the phone to make sure it wasn’t from her next appointment. Suzy didn’t think she was running that late, but she had to confess to herself that she’d lost track of time. It was one thing to arrive a little late to make sure everything was in order, but not at the risk of sabotaging her power play.

Suzy breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized the number. Malcolmson’s office.

“You’re not answering that, are you?” her assistant asked, exasperated, from the other side of the door.

She checked the clock on her desk, to see if she had the time to dawdle further. Her assistant was excellent at her work, but sometimes, like right now, she could be overbearing. Suzy supposed she was grateful to see she didn’t have the time to answer it.

“No,” she said. “Heading out now.”

Along the way, she stopped to examine herself in the mirror she’d hung along one of the walls by the door, placed there to do a last spot check of her appearance before she emerged. She normally never concerned herself with her looks while she was working, but chose to indulge today.

Why not fire on all cylinders? And if I’m feeling great about myself, I think I can really sell the plan.

“You can do this,” she whispered to her image. “You will do this. You’re going to be great. He won’t know what hit him until it’s too late.”

Suzy flung open the door mid-knock. Her assistant’s eyes grew wide in astonishment, while her hand couldn’t drop to her side fast enough.

“Ready, Miss Congresswoman?” her assistant did her best to recover.

“Ready,” Suzy responded with the same calculated smile she’d utilized during her entire campaign. She only exercised her lips into this focus grouped mold of perfection when it was time to get down to business.

“Then let’s head to the Hill.”