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Book Excerpts from Write Rain
"I can only write in rainy weather," Julie told her lover du jour, Russel. Russel didn't seem very interested as he pulled the sheets closer to him. In fact, Russel could very well still be sleeping. It was a long, sex filled night with the talkative stranger named Julie. He needs his rest in case he meets another one just like her tonight at the club.

"I guess, If I plan on being a successful writer I should leave Los Angeles," Julie continued. "Maybe, I should move to Seattle. Have you ever been to Seattle, Russel?"

Russel tugs at the sheet once more and makes some sort of grunting sound. Julie is unfazed. She gets up and crosses to the window. It's another beautiful, sunny California day.

"I hate it here. There's no mood. I need mood if I'm going to be a writer," she plops back down on the bed, pouting.

Russel stirs and then he speaks, "I guess I should get going." He slowly climbs out of bed and searches for his clothes. Julie watches him. His body was much tighter last night. His face friendlier. She is certain that his voice had a soothing quality to it before. He sounded like music and looked like poetry. But, of course, it was late, the bar was closing and she was so very drunk and so very in need of company. She speaks to him as if he were truly a lover and not just the one nighter that he is.

"Do you know what I mean about the rain, Russel? How it makes you feel? For me it's like... on an early, overcast morning, the words just seem to come in with the fog. Then, they're delivered straight to my bed - then to my head - then to the pen - to the paper - with such purpose. Does anything make you feel like that, Russel? Like... something guides you into purpose?"

"Have you seen my shoes?" Russel needs to know.

Julie points in the general direction and then closes her eyes to pray for rain.


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