Like last year, I'm working on another draft of Notebook Spawn, and it's hard to say how many words it is right now because it kind of feels like there are three completely different books trying to say the same story in the document. On the one hand, there's the beginning of the old draft, which is separate from the end of the old draft because I changed my mind about what I wanted to do with voice and plot somewhere after the halfway point so the characters and stories are way different. Then, of course, they are also a little bit different from the rewritten draft I'm actively working on because that one is newer, shinier, and more well-defined.
But, the good news is that I am reaching the end of the beginning of the old draft, and that, my friends, is what we call progress. And I thought I would share some of that progress, because why not, and because I didn't have anything else to post (oops).
Also, if you haven't linked up with Alyssa and Emily before, you should. That is all.
A Snippet Featuring a Friend (lololololololol)
“Um, hi,” I say. “What are you doing here tonight?”
“Mrs. Horton invited me over for dinner,” he smiles. For some reason that smile gives me a lurching feeling in my stomach—something doesn’t feel right.
He looks at me expectantly as though he wants me to ask him a particular question. I don’t know what it is, so I just say, “Where is Caitlyn?”
Quinn purses his lips, annoyed by the apparently-wrong question. “She’s gone ahead of us,” he says. “We’ll talk to her when we get there.”
“Excuse me?” I take a step back into the street. Quinn starts to reach into his pocket and I turn and run, not bothering to watch him finish withdrawing the pencil and notepad he’s kept there. I hurtle towards my car, clicking the unlock button and even managing to get my key in the ignition before his sylph slips into my mind. It’s my every urge to turn the key, to hit the gas, and to go, go, go where they will never find us.
But I am frozen. I mean, on a positive note, I’m not being mentally attacked on all sides this time, but all the same—I am stuck. In the backseat, my chimeras start to chatter amongst themselves as I cease to move.
“Spawn’s got her,” Trilobite decides.
“Maybe—napping?” Shard Born sounds hopeful.
“Nah, her eyes is open.”
Not that I had high hopes anyway, but at least now I know for sure that my passengers won’t be staging my rescue any time soon. Instead, they just murmur quietly while Quinn takes his sweet time waltzing up to my door. He swings it open and leans an elbow on the roof; he’s taking an incredibly casual approach to this considering it’s the second time my mind’s been kidnapped tonight.
“Don’t freak out too much.” He leers at me. “Get your chimeras and lock up your car, then follow me. It’s time for an impromptu road trip.”
Unfortunately, Uncle Chris has been in charge of too many of my bedtime stories for me to have a positive outlook as I am compelled to do just as he says. As reluctantly as I am able I pull Trilobite, Shard Born, and Trog from the car and perch them on my limbs, wishing that I had called someone after all. Impromptu road trips never end happily, and the way my uncle tells them, very rarely does everyone make it back intact.
That's probably enough for now, eh? Thanks for reading!