Hi everyone,
I hope the Halloween season is treating you well this year... It's been pretty good to me, so I can't complain. I'm still excited about the paperback version of "13 Wicked Tales Of Witches", even though it may not be available for a while longer. I can't help but swoon over actually seeing my book in print...
*clears throat*
Forgive me...
Today, I wanted to talk about #NaNoWriMo. I've wanted to participate in National Novel Writing Month for a while now, but every time it rolled around, I was ill-prepared with no idea what to write about. This year wasn't much different except for one thing: I know I can finish a story if I put my mind to it. I've done it before.
You know, I never understood what was so hard about starting a story until I tried to decide what the hell I was going to do for NaNo this year.
Well, I think I've made a decision, and I've dropped the first chapter of what I'm tentatively dubbing "Mr. Thorne" for now, in the bottom half of this post. So give it a read. Hopefully, you'll be intrigued. I know I'd like to read past the first chapter, (lol) I just have to write it first!
P.S. Sorry for all the ellipses, I'm feeling ellipsis-y today... Yikes.
Abilities
Day 17
"What is your name?" The voice was deep, a man's.
If it was familiar, I wouldn't know it.
"Travis."
"Your full name."
"I don't know." It was true, I didn’t know.
Ever stare at a blank sheet of paper or a computer screen for so long, you still see it when your eyes are closed? That's how it feels when I try to remember. That, and it physically hurts. Like the proverbial needle in the eye.
"Do you remember the events leading up to your arrival here?"
The man sat with his legs crossed in the chair in front of me and rolled the end of his pen over his bottom lip. A nasty habit, putting writing utensils so close to the mouth.
I shook my head.
"Travis, you need to speak your answer for our records." He nodded towards the tape recorder that sat on his desk.
"No. I don't remember shit."
"You don't remember waking up in the hospital two days ago?"
I shrugged. "Barely."
"Tell me what you can recall."
He took the pen away from his face and let it hover over the notepad in his lap.
Waiting.
"I recall being taken to a cell. Never being told why I'm being detained in the first place. I feel fine. I just want to leave."
"If you left, where would you go?" His balding head reflected the light of the overhead fixture. I tried to swallow, but my throat was so dry it hurt. He took it as a sign I was stalling.
"What would you do if you left here, Travis? Walk me through your plan. Maybe we can do some of those things without you ever leaving here."
Now I was stalling.
I didn't want to admit that my plan ended at "leave the hospital." Was it even a hospital? It didn't seem like a normal hospital. It was too quiet. Some things I still remember. None of the random tidbits of life lessons had been helpful in the last two days though.
"Where is 'here'? What is this place?" I croaked out the question.
"Anne View Psychiatric Facility." He answered plainly.
I nodded, then remembered about the recorder. "Okay," I vocalized. "Why am I here? Why not a hospital? Why record what we talk about?"
He seemed pleased with my inquiries. "All understandable things to want to know."
"Then spit it out." I snapped.
He set his jaw and wrote something down. Redundant, seeing as he was recording the whole conversation.
"You are here because the man you work for is dead." He took another note. "You are not in a hospital because you were the last one to see him alive and you were violent: a danger to yourself as well as others when you arrived. You showed signs of highly unexplainable behavior and we are the only facility within a fifty mile radius that was equipped to contain you, sedate you and diagnose you. We are still running tests as we speak."
"To find out what?" I asked.
"We need to know what you are. How you came across your... abilities."
"I don't have any abilities."
He smirked and made a note.
"What abilities?" I asked. The man reached over and clicked off the recorder.
He capped his ink pen and waved a hand at the door behind him. It opened with a buzz and a guard held the door for the man I'd been speaking to. I never asked his name, but I assumed he was some kind of doctor.
"We will speak more on the matter a little later. For right now, it is important that you stay calm." He waved for me to stay seated. "And even more important for you to try and remember anything you can about the man you worked for: Mr. Thorne."
Well, that was the first chapter. (Part of it.)
I'm thinking it's going to end up being sci-fi with elements of horror and magic in it.
I'm getting ideas...
Yes, it's coming to me...
Okay ya'll, gotta go, I've got a lot of work to do, (wink). I'll be sure to keep you up to date; and as always, thanks so much for reading!
Avrin
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