Blue Gold

Marigold was blue.

Not literally, of course. That would be unnatural. Maybe I should say that she is just sad? Or, better yet, morose? Maudlin? Depressed?

No, I'll stick with blue. I like the way it sounds. Ok:

Marigold was blue.

What if the readers don't like the way it sounds, though? A good beginning is vital to the story. You're overthinking this. Just go with it.

Marigold was blue.

Is? Can be? Was acting? Lets go with is.

Marigold is blue.

No...was is better.

Marigold was blue.

Ok...why was she blue again? I can't give away too much right away. I mean I know that she's unhappy because she is sick, and homeless, and a gay girl who has to date men to survive...but I can't give that all away right now. So...why should I say she is blue? Probably because she, like her namesake, is yellow.

Marigold was blue because she was yellow.

Ok, that makes no sense at all. I know that I mean she is yellow like her hair is blonde and she has liver problems which is causing her skin to be a little jaundice...but its just too abstract. Lets try:

Marigold was blue. Not literally blue, of course. In fact, she was as yellow as her namesake.

Ok. I can live with that.

Marigold was blue. Not literally blue, of course. In fact, she was as yellow as her namesake. Everything about her was yellow: her hair was blonde, her skin was a sickly tint of yellow from her failing liver, and, when she was sick, she would even vomit yellow.

Holy crap. VOMIT YELLOW. What even is that!? Do I want to gross the reader out! But I have to have three reasons why she's yellow. I'll go with scared instead.

Marigold was blue. Not literally blue, of course. In fact, she was as yellow as her namesake. Everything about her was yellow: her hair was blonde, her skin was a sickly tint of yellow from her failing liver, and she was scared all the time, making her yellow in the proverbial sense as well.

Ok. That's pretty good. Should I...no! Don't overthink it!

Yellow was a ghastly color, wasn't it? It reminded her of illness somehow; possibly because she was mildly allergic to the sun, and possibly because that is the color of her vomit when she had been outside too long. It was awfully unfortunate that she should be made of the stuff.

Vomit again? Why do I keep going back to that!? Oh, yeah. There was that young girl you had to save from alcohol poisoning when YOU were also a young girl. You got her to throw up, and it was a sickly yellow color. You saved her life, but lost your best shirt. Fair trade!

OK...we will keep that in for now. Lets put in something positive though, like:

Only when the sun first rose and shone on her hair and skin, did she ever find herself beautiful. It transformed it into something truly layered and brilliant, with dazzling reds and darker bronzes, all layered together in a kaleidoscope that almost made the sun look as sickly as she did without it.

Ok wow. That's pretty good. And true. I remember loving the way the morning sun brought out the different colors of my hair, making it shine with gold.

Amazing how more of something you hate can, at times, turn into something serendipitous.

OK, that's kinda good too. You're digressing a bit, though. This is about why Marigold is sad, after all. So bring it back!

One would assume, then, that being yellow was what was making her sad.

It's been a while since you used her name. Use it again here!

One would assume, then, that being yellow was what was making Marigold sad. That wasn't the case, however.

OK, watch the 'howevers' and the 'thoughs'...

One would assume, then, that being yellow was what was making Marigold sad. That wasn't the case, however. She was sad because her little orange kitten wouldn't eat.

I remember my little kitten, Tommy. I rescued him, and he rescued me. Out of love for him I had to give him up, but he lived a long happy life. Focus! No time for that!

She had rescued her little kitten from bad pet-parents, but now she didn't know what to do. Marigold couldn't even take care of herself; how was she going to care for a cat?

Ok...I have an intro, and a problem, plus a hidden problem that the character is ignoring. We need some meat for this story! Hehe...I remember when little Tommy would jump out of my vest and eat the meat I would have in my mouth! It was at Arby's, and I would sneak him in. That free Arby's sandwich twice a week really saved me...and it saved Tommy too. Maybe I can use that...

From time to time, people would give Marigold money, and she would take it to whatever fast food place was nearest and buy a hamburger. The kitten would get most of the meat, and Marigold would eat everything else.

Wait. Is that three Marigolds together? That's too many. Too many ands too.

From time to time, people would give her money, and she would take it to whatever fast food place was nearest to buy a hamburger. The kitten would get most of the meat; Marigold would eat everything else.

Nice use of semicolon. I love a good semicolon!

Most of the time, though, people would just yell or glare at her.

I told you to watch the 'thoughs'!

Most of the time people would just yell or glare at her instead of giving her money. Or they would want something in return for money, which Marigold wasn't willing to do just yet.

I hope the reader gets that subtle hint. I don't want to just come out and say sex. I already talked about vomit, after all.

You may wonder why Marigold she was sad about a kitten when her life was clearly so horrible in other ways. If you know anyone who goes through something rough for a long period of time, however you'll find that they just find it normal. You may be horrified, but, for them, it is their life.

That's just...too many commas. Lets clean that up a bit...

You may wonder why she was sad about a kitten when her life was clearly so horrible in other ways. If you know anyone who goes through something rough for a long period of time, you'll find that they just find it normal. You may be horrified, but it is just their life.

Getting a little preachy here. You may lose them. Bring it back.

Marigold found it just too much work to care about herself, so she cared for this little kitten instead. The kitten had a life, but she didn't. The kitten gave her purpose. A reason to live.

Didn't you want to talk about how being conventionally pretty while living on the streets was it's own hell? Something like:

She tried her best to be ugly. As ugly as she felt, anyway. Most men didn't actually care how much dirt is on you, or how sickly you look, or how bad you smelled. They just wanted to use you.

Oh, man. That was dark. Maybe just stick with the kitten?

The kitten kept her occupied, but she was worried about it's health. He didn't go to the bathroom, nor did he eat much. He wasn't growing, either. Marigold had to do something...

Ok...now it seems like there isn't ENOUGH meat. It's a story about Marigold, after all.

I think I better stop here. It is just bad. Everything I do turns out like this. I wish I could be better. I never learned how to be good at anything.

Maybe I will come back to this story later...but who am I kidding. I never will. Best just throw it away.

I sure am blue...