If, at any point this month, I remember it, I'll just switch over my blog posts to that blog. Um yeah.
So anyway it's 10:30, usually my bedtime, and I am writing a blog/story. That basically sums up what my November will be like.
I though I'd share the introduction of my story, which I just completed. I really hope the fonts and sizes transfer because they help convey the tone so well, in my opinion. That's my design eye for you :D
So, what's different this year vs last year? Why would I want to do this to myself again? Here's why:
1. My word count is 30k, making it an even 1k words/day. Last year was 25k and I wrote about 800 words/day.
2. New plot, new characters, more experience! Why not? Sure, I will whine and complain about my story all month, and NaNoWriMo will literally be all I talk about, but it is the nerd, writer, and book geek in me that needs to do NaNoWriMo. Plus, pride issues. And I would 2345678987654323456 percent LOVE to intern at the Office of Letters and Light. And it would be awkward if I didn't participate in their major event of the year. Plus, I have more friends participating this year (Susie, Jenna, Emma, that I know of). Okay, those were a lot of reasons. I didn't even know I had that in me. Not gonna lie.
In terms of my personal life and shizz, this year I am a sophomore in high school. I have one AP class, choir, Journalism, French 2, pre calculus, two honors classes, two clubs, book club, and this. Basically, I do too much. And I tumble. On tumblr.
I BELIEVE THIS IS ALL. I NEED TO GO WRITE 400 MORE WORDS. AND ALSO STUDY FOR MY CHEMISTRY AND FRENCH TESTS TOMORROW (?QUESTIONABLE?).
THE EXCERPT:
Los Angeles, 2065
22:30
The pin was dropping, but no one could hear it. Rather, the boy heard it. His executioners, conversely, did not.
The wind danced between the locks of his hair, which shined in the little moonlight there was. He did not move.
A man with a rough black canvas mask turned to face him. His eyes bored into the whites of the boy’s eyes. He did not look.
Another masked man shouted horsely at him. “Move!” His voice grated. He did not hear him.
All he was standing on was the gravelly road, rocks occasionally tumbling down the path with the slight breeze. His brown eyes remained fixed on the silver dot in the sky, never wavering. All he heard was roaring displacement of air as the pin fell faster and faster toward the earth, approaching closer now but still seeming so far away. No, the pin was too close.
The boy knew this was a test. A test to his control. A test to his fate. He didn’t want a more malicious punishment than what he was already given, if that was even possible.
The same guard threw himself close to the boy, nearly knocking him over with his massive body weight. Seeing the boy indifferent, the guard let out a grunt. A deep and sadistic grunt.
The boy clenched his fists, a small but noticeable enough gesture to get the guards’ attentions. The second guard exchanged looks with the first, who, in turn, exchanged a menacing smile.
“So, the towering guard said, cracking each side of his neck, “how are you doing, Pinhead?”
The boy grit his teeth, wishing he had controlled himself better a few moments before. He could hear the other guards snickering faintly.
The pin was much closer now. Enough so the guards could notice it. The first guard, upon realizing this, grabbed the second’s.
“Oh no!” the guard said mockingly, his voice raised a few octaves, “The pin is coming!” All of the five guards now let out deep, cackling laughter. The boy gritted his teeth again, although they didn’t notice.
For these guards were only peasants in the shadow of the overwhelming monarch. Unfortunately for them, the pin was a bit more important than they had initially inferred. No, this boy wasn’t just a child, but a criminal, and a danger.
But crime is in the eye of the beholder.
The pin was at the top of the Imperial State Building now. While the guards were laughing, the boy allowed himself one small blink. When he opened his eyes again, he saw a yellow color glint off the tip of the pin. The yellow specks in his brown eyes winked.
The boy could now see that the pin was slowly spinning around itself as it made its descent to Venus, only a few seconds away. These last few seconds were his bravest, as he looked directly at the yellow tip of the pin as it floated down. How ironic, he thought, that something so deadly can appear so endearing.
The guards reluctantly shuffled back to their formation with two guards on either side of the boy, with one in back. None of them dared glance at the sky. Even though they all made fun of the pin’s seemingly innocent qualities, a dark fear in the depth of their beings urged them otherwise.
The guards glanced at the boy every second it seemed, gaging his reaction.
He, of course, was silent.
“Here it comes,” one of the guards drawled. The others shifted uncomfortably in response.
A beep pierced the silence. Five.
A long silence passed. The hum of cars and factories could be heard in the background.
Another beep. Four.
A large rock rolled down the hill, surprising the weakest guard.
A beep. Three.
The boy could feel his heart begin to accelerate. Usually he wasn’t like this.
Two.
His hands were clammy and he opened his mouth for the first time that night.
One.
He saw the pin and he knew it was coming for him. Before, he was untouchable. It was too far away to consider, a ludicrous punishment, escapable.
The boy squared his shoulders and feared drained him. He stared straight into that pin, his pin, and cocked an eyebrow.
Zero.
No comments:
Post a Comment