EPILOGUE:
#5 ABC Studios
New York, New York
13 October 2005
Thursday
The floor lamps directly in front of them were dimmed, the people behind the cameras were settled, and the clapper that read Barbara Walter's 10 Most Fascinating People of 2005 hovered in front of them. With a throaty voice declaring, "Lights, camera, and aaaactioooon!" the clapper was sounded off, and the interview officially began.
"This woman in front of me had just arrived from Las Vegas a few hours ago, where she successfully celebrated her twentieth year of annually dancing for the world-renowned Folies Bergere. This 2005, she has appeared in a total of four movies – one of which, the critically-acclaimed Slow Violence, has garnered her an Oscar, a Golden Globe, and many other nominations for Best Actress. However, what makes her a truly worthy part of our 10 Most Fascinating People of 2005 is the advocacy she has been fighting for since she became a naturalized American citizen ten years ago. Recently, she and her whole family have launched a charitable organization called Free the Child where children from physically, sexually, and emotionally abusive families are given a chance to develop their talents and skills in order for them to overcome their trauma. She has also recently served as a UNICEF Ambassador this year, which allowed her to travel to some of the most devastated parts of the world to reach out to young, helpless children who are denied their basic human rights. Her most recent achievement, however, is seeing her son enter The Julliard School as both a musician and a dancer," Barbara Walters shifted in her seat and placed a finger at the bottom of the page she was reading from. "It is my honor and pleasure to welcome a truly fascinating woman: Dana Katherine Scully."
Scully smiled at Barbara. She couldn't help but blink at the lights that were shining directly onto her eyes, and now, twenty years into the industry, she still found it difficult to adjust to those lights' harshness. She stilled her irises and focused on the interviewer before her.
"Hi, Barbara. Thank you very much for having me."
"No, thank you for accommodating us," Barbara quickly countered, leaning forward on her crossed legs. "I understand that today is a special day for your family."
"Yes, it is, it is," she laughed, hearing her own faded British accent as she did so, "You know, that was a very generous introduction … I hate to have to say this, but you did leave out one of my favorite achievements in this twenty-year-old career."
Barbara's lips curled into a smile. "What is that?"
"My also twenty-year-old marriage to my husband," Scully said, reflexively fingering the golden band around her ring finger. "It is his birthday today."
"And how young is he now, Dana?"
Scully could not help but grin. Interviews were quite common in her day-to-day appointments, but she still melted into a giggling schoolgirl whenever they would ask her about her husband. "He's sixty. A very young sixty."
"Your marriage with Director Fox Mulder has always been the envy of most Hollywood couples – you have been together for twenty years! That is almost an eternity here in Los Angeles. Aside from this, you two have remained strong despite the numerous rumors and tabloid fodders surrounding your marriage. How did you manage especially during the time when you two had to forcibly admit your relationship to the public?"
"Oh God, Barbara," Scully sighed, placing a hand on her lip. That was so long ago, and she almost could not remember what had happened then, but there was a reason Mulder had helped her prepare for her interview with Barbara Walters: the woman was as tough as they could get in Hollywood. She composed herself and smiled once more.
"That was quite unexpected, honestly. We have been together, I believe, for six months and I was in Paris while Mulder was called back to LA for the editing process of Danced Yesterday. It was utter chaos in the tabloids at that time for they caught snapshots of us kissing outside the hospital. The press junket had to be set within the next few weeks and it was my first press junket. I was twenty-one then, so nervous, and here, the media simply … I felt attacked back then. But Mulder was there, he held my hand underneath the table … and we pulled through that circus."
"Danced Yesterday was the movie that launched your career. Do you still watch it sometimes? Or do you watch it and think, was that even me?"
"We sometimes watch it, Mulder and I – my firstborn, William, has been watching it before to prepare for his Julliard audition. The dancing parts were easy to watch because I still dance a lot. It sure kept me in shape after so many babies!" Both women laughed, and Scully continued, "What is strange, though, is to look at yourself in a film that defined you all those years and see a young, scared woman. That was an uneasy yet exciting time in my life. I think the reason why the film worked so well is because my emotions were so raw when we were making it. I was scared, bewildered, passionate, in love, everything. It made the film work."
"And from that film, look at where you are now: you are getting so much acclaim with Slow Violence."
"I had to do Slow Violence. It was a story that resonated with me - a woman who had endured her father's abusive relationship with her mother first, and then with her as her mother's 'replacement.' John Doggett, my director, was very hesitant in offering me the lead in the film. He told me that he knew I was perfect for it but he did not know how to convince me to take it. He had to course it through my husband and we had to talk about it thoroughly. I did not want to go into that role unprepared. I did see my therapist a couple of times before finally accepting the role." Scully took a deep breath, smoothed her pristine white skirt, and stared at Barbara again. "It felt like exorcising all the remaining wicked feelings within me when I acted in Slow Violence. It was a good decision."
"Was your husband not jealous that you accepted John's film?"
Scully had to laugh. "No, no, of course not – John's a very close friend of ours. John and Mulder have been best friends since they were in university. We all help each other out."
"How is your husband now after he had won Best Director AND Best Picture in the Oscars last year for his film, Mastery of Nature?" The interviewer before her tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ears. "What's his next project?"
"He's cooking something, I'm sure," she replied, emitting a lopsided grin that was quite similar to the one her husband would wear whenever they would keep a temporary secret from each other. "He wanted a year off to have time for our children. As he said, he was not getting any younger and he needed energy to chase after our five-year-old."
"Speaking of that – you have how many kids?"
"Seven – eight, if you include Mulder's daughter, Emily."
"How DO you manage?" Barbara threw her hands up in the air for effect. Scully shrugged.
"We take turns – Mulder and I – if he has to go on a project, I make sure I don't have a project at that time so that we can be with him and vice versa. The kids are growing up fast but we're happy that they still like being shuttled between shooting locations. William hesitates nowadays, but of course, he has to stay in New York now. As expected, Margaret – our second – wants to stay with her big brother. So we're carrying a lighter load lately. They're all good children, that's the most important thing, and that's why we have managed so well."
"Are they also your inspiration for Free the Child?"
"Yes, I believe … of course they are. But it started a long time ago when my husband chased me all the way to Wales when I was pregnant with William. It was there that I had come to terms with what had happened to me and I realized that I needed to move forward. If it were not for Mulder …" she trailed off, feeling the tears pricking her eyes. She inhaled more air, and continued, "if it were not for him, I would not know how I could have healed. It was easy to say that I left Wales to escape the horrors I experienced from my stepfather and first husband, and to spite my family because I felt that they abandoned me. But sometimes, escaping is not enough. The demons stayed with me even when I was in America. I knew I had to do something about it …"
"And that was when you entered therapy?"
"My husband and I made sure that we were both okay with that decision. I started the therapy when I got back from Wales, while I was pregnant – so it was a very delicate situation. Then, I continued it even after our wedding; I saw my therapist regularly over the years. It's good for me; it's good for our family. And what I got from my therapy is that I wanted, needed, to help other children who went through the same situation as I did. Mulder and I initially volunteered in organizations like UNICEF and other charities, but when the kids have grown up, it was our turn to start our own organization. That was how Free the Child came about."
When she finished her last statement, Scully saw at the corner of her eye that she had visitors. Behind the lights, camera, and the crew stood a tall and lithe young man who had chocolate brown hair and light blue eyes. Beside him and leaning her head on his shoulder was a tall redhead who had Scully's body back when she was so much younger, but of course, not her height. She acknowledged them with a nod and turned back to the interview on hand.
Barbara knew that her children were there to pick her up, so the interviewer quickened the pace a little. After a few more questions about her upcoming projects, her plans as UNICEF ambassador, her family, her husband, the final query came:
"So, what is next for Dana Katherine Scully?"
"Maybe I should start using my husband's last name?"
They both laughed. At her peripheral, she could see both her children also snickering knowingly. They knew that was never going to happen; it was already strange that their mother and father both called each other by their last names, and they have remarked how much stranger it would be when she would finally change her last name legally: Two people calling each other "Mulder" at home. Great way to mess us up even more, the elder ones would all chime in jest.
"What's next," Scully started, "is I hope another kid. We're not done, yet. I know I'm forty but I can still have one more …"
This time, her kids loudly groaned.
She chuckled. "Mulder and I have always wanted a big family. That was his father's dream for him and I was more than happy to fulfill that for both of us. But what's next for me is to continue being happy as a wife, mother, dancer, and an actress. And to do all of these while helping others. That's what's next."
Barbara reached out and offered a hand for her to shake. She took it graciously.
"Thank you so much, Dana, and a happy birthday to your husband, Fox Mulder."
"Thank you very much, Barbara."
"Really, Mum, I don't know how you can manage with another kid."
Scully sighed deeply - deep enough to make sure her children heard her. "My God, William, this is a three hour drive to Rhode Island. Can we stop talking about the future baby?"
"Future baby? It has an adjective now?"
Scully glared at the redhead who was buckled behind the driver's seat. Her second child, Margaret, was absentmindedly curling her hair around her finger. It was still early, 10 AM, and the sun outside was illuminating the auburn locks on her daughter's head. She looked like she was wearing a halo.
This was her life now: her teenage children ganging up on her, or most of the times, ganging up on her and her husband. William and Margaret, born only a year apart, were a tag-team. They were fierce best friends and would always have each other's back in the family. If one of them did something, the other would do everything to cover it up. It started three years ago and Mulder had tried his best to coax them out of this team effort. However, they gave up when they realized that as husband and wife, they were a tag-team themselves when asserting their rules on their children.
"Margaret," Scully warned, her voice deepening into what her husband called Mummy-Scully mode. "That future baby could be your future sister."
"Mum!" Both William and Margaret shrieked at the same time. She could not help but laugh loudly at their reactions.
"You two are so gullible," she retorted, then tapped on her son's shoulder. "Eyes on the road, William."
William sighed, smirked at her (a smirk he got from his father), and grabbed a CD from the dashboard. "Mum, how does Joni Mitchell sound to you right now?"
Scully absentmindedly played with the cross necklace she was still wearing after all those years. Without removing her eyes from the fast-changing landscape they were passing through, she nodded. "Bloody perfect, as long as it is Blue."
Margaret eagerly took the CD from her brother and inserted it into the car's player. Soon, the car was surrounded by the sounds of piano, guitar, and Joni's one and only voice. All three of them sighed at the same time for they all had the same unmistakable taste in music. This was probably one of the reasons why her two eldest children loved staying behind with her.
It had been a strenuous day. From Las Vegas, the whole family took the earliest flight out of there to head to New York, where Scully had an interview scheduled with Barbara Walters. The other children left with Mulder early on while the older ones stayed and waited for her. She did not really want to do the interview today – not when it was her husband's birthday – but the family was going on a month-long vacation in Quonochontaug and that meant that they would completely isolate themselves from all things Hollywood. It was a yearly tradition the whole family enjoyed, one which Mulder and Scully still continued to honor so that they could spend some quality time with each other and with their children. "Pretty soon, it'll just be the two of us here in Rhode Island," Mulder had joked a few years ago before their youngest, Walter, had been born. They thought that they would be retiring early until their baby boy came unexpectedly, just at the exact moment the beloved Producer Walter Skinner had passed away.
When their youngest son was born, the insatiable urge to have more children overtook them once again and they have been toying with the idea ever since. Scully stretched her little feet onto the front of the car and thought about that … she was certainly not getting any younger and her husband (most especially) was not, either. But it was a risk that they wanted to take, as always, together.
Whether the eighth baby would come or not, they were already blessed: William was a sensitive dancer from the start, someone who would excitedly take the male parts during her dance sequences in the Manor's basement when he was barely toddling; Margaret was an academic – she had aced her SATs the year before and Mulder had been quietly pushing her to take up medicine; Missy, who was born two years after Margaret, was beautiful, gregarious and outgoing … they both think that she would be the next actress in the family; John, who came just ten months after Missy, had always been quiet and/or typing away in his computer – he also was officially tasked to manage their family's official website and answer fan emails.
The younger ones were also starting to hold up to their own: nine-year-old Bill who wanted to be Batman; eight-year-old Donna who wanted to be Wonder Woman (so imagine the ruckus when they get together); and five-year-old Walter who now wanted to be Superman. Which reminded her of something …
"Margaret, did Donna take her medicine?"
"Medicine for what, Mum?"
"Ferrous sulfate tablets. Anemia."
"Yes, Mum. Dad made her. She cried like sh…"
"Watch your mouth, young lady."
"… like bloody crazy." Margaret corrected, raising an eyebrow at her brother through the rearview mirror. At the corner of her eye, Scully caught William winking at her sister.
Tag-team. Tag-team, as always.
After five hours or no matter how long it had been, it was always in his arms that she felt the most at home.
"Hi, cheri," he crooned into her ear when she stepped into his hug. She relished the feeling of being squashed into his chest, into his familiar warmth, that which she had been living with for the past twenty years. She breathed in deeply the scent of his essential shampoo, the saltiness of the leftover sunflower seeds, and that cucumber cologne that they both loved sharing.
She felt his lips on her head, its spot eternal there, and then he murmured, "How was the interview with Barbara?"
Scully squeezed her arms around his waist, now flabbier than before, and lifted her head towards his until they met eye-to-eye. "You watch it and be the judge, Superman."
He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by a small voice shouting, "Superman! Superman! Mama! Mama!"
They opened their hug to accommodate Walter, and the two other young ones followed suit: first by their confident Bill who was again clad in his Batman suit, and then their shy Donna who would gladly wear Wonder Woman's crown and bracelets but not the skimpy bathing suit. Above their heads, Scully mouthed, "teens?" to Mulder and he motioned his head towards the kitchen's bar, where the four teenagers were crowding around the dishes spread out there. Missy also loved to cook and was able to get good recipes from their former housekeeper Jenny before the latter retired – including the improved and creative liver steak sandwiches for Donna.
They were both busy high-fiving the young ones when Missy's voice broke through their revelry: "Muuuuum, the older John, Monica, and Lucy's here … and William's blushing!"
"Shut up!" William shouted at his sister. Margaret chimed in, "Cut it out, Missy."
"William's got a crush, that's all!" John interjected - a rarity. Mulder and Scully shared a surprised look.
"Okay, guys, that's enough!" Mulder's voice boomed over theirs. Scully took the hands of the little ones and led them to the kitchen, where they were gladly received by a flustered William and a protective Margaret.
They welcomed John and Monica into their living room, kept their cake inside the refrigerator, ushered Lucy to spend time with the other teenagers (despite the obvious embarrassment of William), and sat down with a bottle of Chardonnay.
Scully found her space in between Mulder's outstretched arm on the back of the sofa and his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and turned her attention to their guests.
"So, my man, how does it feel to be sixty now?" John raised a glass towards his best party animal and handed it to Monica. Scully suddenly remembered that John was not allowed to drink wine anymore by the doctor and she offered some orange juice. John said he was fine and they all went back to their conversation.
"You tell me, John, how it feels to be sixty," Mulder squeezed her arm and she smiled. "You turned sixty a few months ago, eh?"
"Mi amigo," Monica said softly, "Don't remind him, he might go berserk again."
"I've accepted it, I've accepted it," John responded, raising his hands up in the air. Then he motioned towards Scully. "Wait, I'll accept it better if you win Best Actress."
"You should win Best Director, first." Scully raised an eyebrow at their old friend. John chuckled.
"Well, Mulder, I think I want this …" he pointed at the shiny bald statuette atop the fireplace behind him. It was flanked by the family's photographs and was directly underneath a framed original poster of Danced Yesterday.
Mulder wagged his finger. "Nah, get your own, John. I think it looks positive, mi amigo."
"Well then, cheers to all these Oscar nominations and buzz!" Monica raised her glass in the air and the other three followed suit. They began to talk about their children's schooling and college expenses when the doorbell rang. Scully immediately stood up; as she did so, she heard her husband wince.
"I'll get that," she piped up to everyone, then to her husband, she whispered, "I'll be back, don't miss me." She kissed him on the side of his ear before leaving for the front door.
Upon opening the front door, she was greeted by a happy squeal. Scully almost squealed herself, but before she could, she had four little arms gripping her waist.
"Hey, Emily!" She reached over and gave her stepdaughter a hug. Emily, with her curly brown hair all gathered in a messy bun, looked a bit dazed. Scully knew for a fact that Emily had traveled all the way from California just to be with her extended family for her father's birthday. Her twins, practically Scully's grandchildren too, were with her: Jackie and Samantha.
Scully immediately noticed that Jeff was not with Emily. She racked her brain at once, trying to remember if Jeff was in the war or not. Before she could ask, Emily already answered for her: "Jeff would come home in a week, so we'll be back here before the month ends to see you all."
Scully held the twins' hands and asked them if they wanted some ice cream. They both shouted 'yes!' and with Emily following suit, she directed them to the teenagers (or the official nannies of the night).
In the living room, Emily sat down with her Dad and kissed his cheek. They talked a bit about Jeffrey and his schedule, and before Scully could sit back down to her husband, the doorbell rang again and it was the Lone Glitter boys. Now, the party was truly swinging.
That evening, as they all squeezed themselves in the dining table, Mulder happily blew out the candles on four of his birthday cakes (one baked by Missy, the others brought by Emily, John and Monica, and then the Lone Glitter boys). They all had party hats and the teenagers were wearing glasses that had the shapes of 6 and 0 on them.
"Okay, I'm sixty, this is officially happening," Mulder said amidst the claps and hoots. "I'm happy that all of you could be here and spend it with me. And I'm even happier that you all here because I want to officially announce that I do not feel sixty!"
They all laughed. He continued on, "I feel blessed that all nine of my children are here … and is there another one on the way, Mrs. Mulder?" Their teenagers protested and Scully winked at him.
"But most of all, I feel the most blessed because of this woman beside me right here –" he gathered Scully in his arms and she happily wrapped her own around him. "- she has kept me honest, made me whole, and gave me the kind of family I have been dreaming about. I'm the luckiest man alive because of this Spunk -"
"Mulder," she complained. After all those years, she still had not warmed up to that damn nickname.
"- who married me and accepted me as I was back then. I said before that my final Spunk Rule was to love Dana Scully forever and that is what I'll do until I'm old and ugly. Okay, cheri?" He dipped his head lower to see her eye-to-eye, their most comfortable stance with each other, because the earth may shake and the heavens may break, but when they look at each other in the eye, everything would be all right. It was their bond, their seal of approval, their unique way of understanding.
"Okay, Superman," she answered softly, before gently meeting her lips with his. All their guests clapped and while they continued to kiss, their kids pulled them apart. They both grinned at each other and allowed their children to take them to the middle of the living room, where the dancing would commence as it always did after a Mulder family birthday party.
When she was eight, nine – she could not remember anymore – the Welsh midnight sky was her sanctuary. It was still vivid to her as it was before how, after being locked in her room by her Mother's husband, she would push away the curtains with a passion that she could only match through her dancing. She would place her palms on the glass and rest her cheek in between her fingers, trying to feel the cold air outside through the opaque barrier. Her head was always lifted towards the sky - that beautiful sky, with swirling diamonds and a round glowing plate in between it all – and she would wish hard and keep her eyes open despite the tears that came fast and sudden. She wished to be far away from where she was, to be outside where her Mother used to find solace by the pond, to be in London – maybe she could be a normal child there, to be in Las Vegas and dance with the Folies Bergere like tomorrow did not exist, or to be in another country. She wanted to be anywhere else but home.
What did home mean, anyway? She often asked herself that question back then, for she did not feel at home in Wales, no matter how much she loved her country. She did not feel at home amongst her siblings, even after they finally defended her against her father and that monster he married her off to; more so, she did not feel at home there when she had lost her babies. Home was a construct, a place that she never deserved, so when she decided to leave for America, she relied solely on her innate confidence that she could never stay in one true place. She was meant to roam and search for the next stage to dance on.
Scully stared up at the expanse of the midnight sky before her, maybe similar to that sky of her childhood, and hugged the pillows she was carrying closer to her chest. Sometimes, she still asked herself that question: What was home, anyway? Was she ever destined to know?
"Scully, are you coming?"
Before her, Mulder was carrying a picnic basket, some blankets, and a comforter. He beckoned at her, flashing her that silly lopsided grin of his.
She smiled back. "Look at us: camping in our prime," she chided, following him towards the farthest area of the garden.
"We have not done this in a long time and anyway," he paused to turn around and waggle his eyebrows at her, "this is your birthday gift, Mrs. Mulder."
"Are you insinuating something?" She, in turn, raised an eyebrow at him as they reached the area of the garden which was properly covered by the apple trees and thick bushes. "Aren't we too old to do the dirty out here in the open?"
Mulder chuckled and dropped what he was carrying on the ground. She threw the pillows on top of the comforter.
"You may be too old for the public down and dirty, Scully, but I'll always be ready."
They stared at each other for a while before both of them broke into laugher.
Within a few minutes, they have spread the comforter across the grass, propped themselves up on the pillows, and were snuggled under the thick blankets. Beside them was the newly-opened bottle of white wine (Moscato, his secret favorite) and the wine glasses. They each took one and clicked them together before taking a sip.
"Here's to being sixty, eh?" she said through her glass. Mulder half-nodded, half-winked at her, then placed the glass back down beside the wine bottle. He implored for her to do the same and she did, returning back under the blankets within his arms. She sighed as they molded their bodies against each other, her back to his front – her favorite position, for she loved to feel his heart beating against her shoulder blade. He kissed her nape gently, and then draped a leg atop hers.
They let a few more minutes pass in silence while they together watched the midnight sky. Above them, the crescent moon barely moved. Scully blinked; she had never seen the night this calm and serene. There was nothing swirling, nothing obstinately glowing … it was just the stars and the moon silently staring back at them.
"Remember when we first did this camping thing?" Mulder whispered into the back of her neck. She shifted slightly so that they could look at each other in the eye before answering, "Yeah. Wasn't that after Emily's wedding?"
"And I was angry at you."
"You were in love with me," she corrected, placing a tentative finger on his lips, "and you were angry because you could not tell me."
"No, that wasn't it –" Mulder kissed her finger and took her hand to place it near his heart. "… you were the one angry at me because I spontaneously kissed you back in Vegas and you were …"
"Surprised."
"… shocked. I remember you cursing me under your breath when I asked you if you wanted to dance during the wedding."
"But I danced with you, anyway."
"After which you proceeded to shout at my face."
Scully groaned loudly. "Because you were such a stubborn man who did not know when to quit!"
Mulder let out a soft ha. "There's my Spunk." He dipped his head to allow his lips to meet hers and they kissed, long and heady, until they were running out of breath.
She settled once again to look at him in his hazel eyes. Reaching up to smoothen the wrinkles at the corners of his face (ones which started sprouting a decade ago and yes, she loved counting each one of them because it meant that they were growing old together), she reminded him of another camping that they did in another state. "New Mexico … just after Missy turned one … do you remember?"
"Oh God," Mulder groaned this time, "can we forget?"
She snickered evilly. "We argued so much because you still packed me liver steak lunch when I specifically told you not to and you knocked one of our water supplies to the ground!"
"It wasn't entirely MY fault – you also burned our dinner! So I also had to eat that liver steak lunch!"
"Fine, fine … you asked me to cook when you were always the better cook!" She shrugged. "Then, when we were about to make love … Christ …"
"Jesus, Scully, do we have to …"
"You let out the largest fart in fucking history. I swear your arse must've shaken the earth."
"There, okay, you happy?" Mulder cried out, his voice raising a bit. She could see that he was blushing and she reached up to run her fingers across his hot cheeks.
To make up for it, she hugged him closer and whispered into the ear that she could reach in their position, "I've always been happy. For the past twenty years."
"Yeah, twenty years," he repeated, nuzzling her neck. "It's one hell of a ride, isn't it?"
"It has been fun."
"It will get better."
She reached up to pull her head down towards hers, so that they could once again see each other's eyes. She remembered when they first met how he had remarked that she could read him so easily, like a kindergarten picture book; she also remembered how she wondered why he would think that way, when all she had to do was look into his hazel irises and see everything there. In his gaze, she had mapped out the universe. In his gaze, the world made sense. His eyes could be as dark as the storm clouds on that fateful day she left Wales and as luminous as the daylight when it hit the skin of water that morning he chased her back to England to find her inside the glasshouse of lilies.
Scully traced Mulder's jaw with her fingers and marveled at the way he still looked at her after all these years: the yearning, passion, love, understanding, and raw honesty were all still there, just as they have all been from the beginning.
At that point in their life together, underneath the midnight sky she had loved so much, she knew this to be the truth: Mulder was her country. Wherever he was, was where she needed to be.
Spunk had finally come home.
END OF SPUNK
E/N: Fifteen years and finally, this. Thank you so much to all those who waited those fifteen years, rediscovered and reread Spunk, and most especially to those who are new readers of this story. I never realized how much I love Spunk until I was writing its Epilogue last summer. This is probably the story that sealed my fate as a professional writer – it isn't perfect and there are parts that I have wanted to change as I was reposting BOOK I, but I kept some as they are because I wanted to stay true to the fourteen-year-old girl who was eager to come home from school to be alone with her story.
And the most difficult decision was to keep the title as it is, despite its now more malicious connotations. Spunk is spunk for me, and that's the way it'll be. This was an amazing ride, one I thoroughly enjoyed as both a budding writer and a professional one now … I hope it was the same for you. Let me know what you think via the review section and I may just have a short snippet of in-the-life-of-the-Hollywood-Mulders as a thank you extra chapter for all of you faithful readers!
Once more thank you for being with me on this long, long journey and yes, don't let the Spunk tie your balls behind your waist!
