So far my blog has been an exploration of different topics: everything from movie and book reviews to a personal tribute/poem when I lost my dog. I’ve really enjoyed this place to safely express my thoughts, opinions, and passions. It has been very cathartic.
However, it is with a bit of chagrin that I realize I have yet to write about my WIP (Work in Progress).
I am currently writing the first draft of Tribe, a first person alternate-world fantasy that focuses on a young male protagonist named Jax Baden. In this world, there are four tribes located on four small islands, tied to one another by a mutual need for sharing resources and controlling the world’s population. It’s been a lot of fun to write so far. There’s a taste of magic and a few twists and turns.
Writing everyday is hard though, especially when you don’t feel like you are crafting a high-quality story. All I can do is complete the process; let it sit, edit, rewrite, repeat.
Writing a book is on my bucket list. I know I’ll get there by the end of the year! That thought alone keeps me going.
My Goal: 70 thousand words/ a complete draft by December 31st, 2017.
Current Word Count: About 53,000
Here is a short excerpt:
Helix is leaning over me and I see two shining stars in the night. But then I realize they are her eyes, and what I smell is woodsmoke and grass. She is impossibly close and I want to freeze the moment. But moments like these are made to shatter.
“We have to go,” she whispers urgently. The others are raising themselves from sleep, stirring to wakefulness. Helix motions rapidly with her hands— up and down, up and down. We go silent. Helix’s eyes are closed. I can almost see her ears listening.
My heart beats against my chest, and I am aware of the night that circles in on us, covers us in an ocean of black. We are frozen, close to the ground even though something wants to pull me to the surface, to peer out into the night, and search amongst the tall grass.
I strain my ears and something comes back; a soft crunching, barely perceptible. It stops. We hold our breaths for a few moments and then it’s back again.
Tik. Tik. Crunch. Tik. Tik…
It stops again. One minute passes, and then two. A few more moments trickle past, and I lose track of time. Cross eases out of his crouch…
He’s bulled over. A hulking mass lands on him and sends him tumbling. A lion. They are a ball of fur and skin. Cross lands on his back and kicks his legs out. The lion is thrown back into a tangle of grass, but not before it rakes a claw across his fleshy arm. Its snarl cleaves the night in two.
“RUN!” screams Leanne. We tear off into the tall grass. My legs churn away the dirt. My arms push away the stalks. I look over my shoulder, but our campsite is gone. I try to head East towards the forest. A tree. Get to a tree and climb. I can hear Cross stumbling behind me. Good. He’s up and running.
Blades of grass slice my skin, cutting up my arms and legs. I continue to push myself, my lungs stretched to the limit. And then I’m there. It’s a shock when I suddenly leave the enclosure of blades. A wall of trees rise up and I grab at the first branch I see. I swing my body weight up and I reach for the next branch. I’m twenty feet off the ground in seconds.
I push my back against the trunk. “Cross! Cross!” I peer into the dark, but I don’t need to. What looks like a boulder is tumbling through the grass. He’s not going to make it…