Well, I have been so very busy. I feel quite satisfied with the amount of STUFF I have been able to achieve this week. I’ve attended more fabulous lectures, pitched one of my novels to a room full of people for the first time (practise run), told the Tories to fuck themselves, finished a fifteen page comedy/horror sitcom (the opening) with my assignment group and managed to hand it in before the 4pm deadline.
Yesterday evening was the first chance I had to sit down and write NaNo since Tuesday. I forgot how painful getting into the 20k word count is. But, I wrote for roughly nine hours and managed to squeeze out 4,200 words, which means I should get back on target later today.
I did not think about what I was writing. I found a piece of music that instantly inspired me, stuck it on repeat and wrote whatever came to my head. It remained plot consistent and in fact, writing that way meant my brain worked out a lot of little details without me realising. The brain is a lot smarter than we think it is and when we trust our instincts, more often than not, things work out for the better.
So, after writing until five AM this morning, I decided that what I needed to do as a reward was make a trailer. It’s not as epic as I wanted it to be but I did make it in a mere half hour. I’m not trying to make that an excuse; I’m just saying I had fun playing around with creepy music. Right click [here] and open in a New Tab if you would like to view it.
I’m feeling quite upset today, however. I found out this morning that my ex-Commanding Officer died in the earlier hours of this morning. He had a blood clot in his lungs and there was nothing they could do. Sergeant Major Pugh was a passionate and inspiring man. During my teenage years, he was like a second father to me. I went through quite a lot of shit for various reasons, but he and his wife always looked after me. I even came to call his wife ‘mummy Tiggs’ (she loves Tigger). Pughy taught me everything I know about radio protocol and how to be a signaller. He made my name famous up and down the country in the Army Cadet community because of my ‘radio voice’, and I was proud to call him ‘sir’. He was an exceptionally fair man and always pushed cadets to be the best that they could be, myself included. We will remember him with smiles.
I’ll make another cup of tea in a minute, because I’m British and tea makes everything better. I just wanted to give him an honourable little section in my blog.
So, back to why you’re here, extract time!
EXTRACT #1 (if you would like to listen to the music I used to write the following extracts as you read, open [here] in a New Tab. It’s not a distracting song, I promise. It is night time in all of these extracts.)
A river now chased across their path and Frederick decided to sit. Mercury settled next to him, arms draped over his knees. The soft light illuminated the scars in Mercury’s back, though his were not as bad as Frederick’s. He, like Frederick, had two, webbed patches stretching down most of his back from when his wings had torn through his skin. Other than that, his body had evaded permanent scarring.
Frederick shuffled closer, shifting so that one of his legs was behind Mercury, his body facing him, and traced a few fingers over the marks on Mercury’s back.
“What is worrying you?” he asked.
“Leaving you behind.”
Frederick rested his forehead on Mercury’s shoulder, hiding a cringe of remorse. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
Mercury shook his head and gazed up at the sky. “Last time we left you behind it took two-hundred years to find you again.”
“I told you,” Frederick looked up and gripped his arm, “that wasn’t my fault!”
“I know,” Mercury jerked his arm away and grabbed Frederick’s hand instead. “But what if we are altering the time stream to such a significant extent again?” He took a deep breath. For a moment he was silent and played with Frederick’s fingers, massaging the skin between them and rubbing circles in his palm.
Frederick dropped his forehead back onto Mercury’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling. “I am sorry I am such a nuisance,” he whispered.
Li-ling traced a finger over one of the window panes. “Freddy… Frederick…” Did he have some kind of illness? Did he recognise her at all? He showed no sign that he knew Li-ling had tried to help him the other day. What did he want? Li-ling wanted to question him, to sit next to him for a while until she understood why he was familiar to her. “Like a dream…”
A flicker of movement caught her eye in the distance. Li-ling stopped tracing patterns and narrowed her eyes. Sprinting across the third field like ants, were two figures. Confused, Li-ling tilted her head and leant against the glass. One was ahead of the other but with impressive accuracy the man behind dived and tackled the other to the ground! They rolled and for a moment scrabbled at each other, their bodies merging.
Worried that it was a demon hunting a human, Li-ling sprang onto her knees and pressed her face to the window, trying to get a better look. Who was it? Was it one of the new demons or one of the Schillers? The flailing stopped and for a moment the figures were almost still. Maybe it was two humans?
She watched, debating whether there was reason to be worried. They seemed peaceful now, gentle.
One of the men was launched into the air by whoever was on bottom and there tackling resumed. Li-ling jumped off the sill, seized her jeans, did not remove her nightdress and stuffed on her boots. She kept her eyes on the figures as she hopped around the room, tying up her boots.
With another surge, Frederick pounced at Mercury and caught him without fail, hands on his shoulders. Mercury laughed, stumbling forward as Frederick locked one arm around his chest. He chewed playfully on Mercury’s neck, making the man growl and expose more of it.
Scuffling backwards though, Mercury smashed Frederick into a tree and winded him. Letting go, Frederick managed a weak laugh as Mercury spun around and bit across his shoulder, up his neck and then licked his cheek. Frederick managed to land a punch on the others back as Mercury ran off once more.
Frederick gnawed on his lip as he carried on in pursuit. His trousers were still damp, now covered in grass stains, and his legs were beginning to sting, but a part of him felt that it added to the sensation of their game. Nine-hundred years old and he hadn’t lost his touch. Playing fair, Mercury had not used his gift to run fast, but that did not stop Frederick from using his gift. He knew that it secretly pleased both of them when he did.
Vanishing into the shadows, Mercury hid from view. Frederick almost let his nose morph into its true form so that he could smell the gunpowdery musk of his blood, for he could not smell it unless Mercury bled, but that would lessen the challenge.
He crept through the glowing terrain, eyes narrowed; searching for any dust that was perhaps not moved by the wind and by something else. He emanated a bass purr, hoping to coax Mercury out of hiding.