In the spirit of all writers who are waiting to hear back from agents, I’ve been obsessing over 13 Demon Days.  Specifically, over the first few pages.  I’m confident that if I can just pull the reader in, they’ll like the story.  They’ll laugh, take a couple hits to the heart for the team, and walk away with a goofy grin on their face.

But, first I have to pull them in.

As my blog readers know, I already cut my revised first chapter–all of it–and started the book a good chunk farther into the story.  Now I’ve just flushed a beloved scene that took up the first couple of pages.  It was fun and all, but it delayed the introduction of tension and story conflict.  You know, the demon possession, the exhibition of mysterious new talents on the part of the main characters, and the eating of cake covered in dog hair.

In the spirit of rebellious autonomy over blog content, I’m posting the cut scene below.  It may not have made the final edit of the novel, but at least I can still claim it saw the light of the publishing day.

Josh went inside and headed for the stairs.  He couldn’t wait to get to the quiet of his room and his iPod.

            “Hey, where are you going?” Liz asked.  “I’m not cleaning this up by myself.”  She pointed to the toilet seat, sitting in the middle of the entry hall, resting on an island of tarot cards and crumpled napkins.

            Josh looked back at Liz and thought about telling her to leave it for Mom and Dad.  But she would never do that–Liz was the responsible twin–and besides, they didn’t know when Mom and Dad were coming back, or even where they were.

            Liz crossed her arms.  “Come on, Josh.  You’re a boy–you should be all over cleaning up a giant white donut.”

            Josh laughed, and grabbed a broom to start sweeping up the mess.  Mom probably would have tried to save the tarot cards–and he still didn’t know why she’d put up tarot card decorations for a birthday party–but she wasn’t here and he figured anything on the floor after a party like that was definitely trash.

            When he got to the toilet seat Josh nudged it aside so he could sweep under it.  The seat slid on the waxy hardwoods.

            Josh grinned, and switched his hands on the broom so he could use it as a hockey stick.  Liz could say what she wanted about donuts–he knew food, and that thing wasn’t it.  He didn’t even want to think about all the germs hiding on the underside.  Even if it was clean before the party started, it had probably been peed on by every one of Uncle Dobbs’s boys, and then worn around the neck by his cousin Haley for the rest the night.  And everyone knew Haley never took a bath.

            In a move straight from the NHL, Josh whacked the seat to get it sliding down the hall.  He ran after the seat and stopped it at the bathroom door.  He lined it up in front of the toilet, and gave it an extra thump to get it over the lip of the door.

The seat skittered across the floor and smacked up against the toilet.

“Score!” Josh cried.  He pumped the broom handle in the air, then washed his hands and headed into the kitchen to see if there was any cake left.  It was important to celebrate small victories.

Say goodbye to the toilet seat scene.  In the new and improved beginning of 13 Demon Days, the reader will remain blissfully unaware that there was ever a toilet seat in the middle of the floor.  But, hey, even I never knew how it got there.