At the stroke of midnight last night, I started work on my new novel. \u00a0I was at a kick-off party, surrounded by a bunch of other eager writers. \u00a0Some of them have been doing NaNoWriMo for years and years. \u00a0For a few of them, this was their first year.<\/p>\n
I’m working on the story now, and I’ll be working on it later today at a write-in at Panera. \u00a0My plan is to go to all of the write-ins on Saturdays. \u00a0It’s encouraging to be surrounded by others engaged in the same frantic activity that I’m enjoying.<\/p>\n
Something I\u00a0may do from time to time is post samples from my story here. \u00a0I’m really excited about what I’m writing, and I want to share. \u00a0This scene was a lot of fun for me.<\/p>\n
Sim crept up to the blackberry bush, hunched over, eyes wary. He placed a hand on Dar\u2019s shoulder. Though Sim\u2019s touch was light, Dar jerked upright.<\/p>\n
\u201cQuiet!\u201d Sim said, pitching his voice low.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought you were Ursa,\u201d Dar said. His baritone voice cracked.<\/p>\n
\u201cUrsa wouldn\u2019t bother with a warning. She\u2019d just take your head off and be done with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dar turned back to the clearing. Knee-high blades of wild grain grew within a stand surrounded by twisted, heavy oak trees. The midday sun illuminated the open area. Across from where they knelt, Sim could see dark flecks buzzing in the air. A beehive clung to the bottom of one of the branches, alive and churning with insect life.<\/p>\n
\u201cI still think this is a bad idea,\u201d Sim said. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair. Sweat dampened his brow.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s what you always say,\u201d Dar said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I\u2019m always right. How many times were you stung the last time we tried this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dar ignored the question. He said, \u201cLast time, we didn\u2019t try to smoke them out first. Dillontor told me that bees go to sleep in smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sim studied the beehive with squinted eyes. He opened his mouth several times, but remained silent. He could argue with Dar, but if Dillontor said something, then it was probably true.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should start the fire,\u201d Dar said. He gestured towards a fire bow at his feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis was your idea, mudhead. If you want the honey so bad, you can start the fire. Besides, I\u2019m terrible at starting fires. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not going to be much of a Waverider if you can\u2019t start a simple fire, Sim.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want to be a Waverider,\u201d Sim said, lowering his voice. \u201cI think when my name day comes, I\u2019m going to choose to be a Firedancer.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dar turned and fixed Sim with a level stare. Sim avoided meeting Dar\u2019s eyes. After a moment, Dar turned his attention to the fire bow. He said, \u201cYou have to be the strangest Child of all the clans, Sim.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sim frowned at Dar. His friend was a little bit shorter than him, but much thicker in the chest, with broad shoulders and impressive arms. Like Sim, he was dressed in dark brown pants and a loose fitting shirt, tied at the arms and waste with woven bands. Like most of the people in their clan, Dar\u2019s hair was nearly black, and his skin was the color of sanded oak.<\/p>\n
As Sim watched, Dar pushed and pulled the bow with one hand, the other hand holding a smooth stone on top of the bow, steadying it. Dar\u2019s expression was blank, his eyes fixed on the tedious work of coaxing fire out of thin, feathery bark and kindling.<\/p>\n
With a sigh, Sim dropped down to the ground. He cupped his hands around the sides of the bowl containing the dried bark. A line of smoke rose from the bowl. The stream of smoke was so thin and transparent that Sim wondered if he was only imagining it. He drew in a deep breath and blew a slow, soft breath, trying to will energy into the spark.<\/p>\n
A shadow fell across Sim and the bowl. The branch Dar had been spinning with the bow stopped moving. When Dar gasped, Sim craned his neck to looked up.<\/p>\n
An enormous bear looked down at him, its coal black eyes unreadable. A halo of golden light surrounded the bear\u2019s head where it blocked the sun. Its mouth was open, showing glistening, ivory teeth. A deep growl rumbled out of the creature\u2019s throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cRun!\u201d Dar screamed.<\/p>\n
Sim rolled to his left. Wood cracked where Sim had been on the ground. Sim scrambled to his feet and looked back. The bear was on all fours, the blackberry bush crushed beneath its belly. Dar was on his backside, frantically crawling backwards. The bear was looking at Dar with hungry eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cDar, get up!\u201d<\/p>\n
Dar tried to get his feet under him, but the bear advanced a step towards him. Dar\u2019s eyes went wide, and his feet went out from under him. He skidded on his backside, still pushing himself across fallen leaves and underbrush.<\/p>\n
Gritting his teeth, Sim turned the other way. He took two long strides back the way he\u2019d come when he\u2019d first approached Dar. He found his staff where he\u2019d left it, leaning against a tree. Weapon in hand, he turned back to face the bear. Sweat plastered his shirt to his chest and back.<\/p>\n
Ursa, the bear, advanced another step towards Dar. Her brown fur was mottled in some places, shaggy in others. She raised her nose and sniffed at the air. Dar continued to back away from the bear, still unable to get to his feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d Sim shouted. He ran towards Ursa, his staff raised in a charge. The creature ignored him. As Sim tried to get Ursa\u2019s attention, she took another step closer to Dar. With an incoherent cry, Sim stabbed with the staff like a spear, jamming one end into Ursa\u2019s ribs.<\/p>\n
The bear roared and turned. It swatted at Sim\u2019s staff with the back of enormous paw. The weapon left his hands. It tumbled through the air and clattered into the branches of trees several spans away. Ursa raised herself up onto her hind legs, looming like death.<\/p>\n
\u201cMother save me,\u201d Sim said.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
\n<\/p>\n
And so the story begins.<\/p>\n
I’m not editing my story yet, of course. \u00a0I want to get the first draft completed before I do any serious edits. \u00a0I did clean this up a little bit, adjusting a couple of words so that sentences would make a little bit more sense.<\/p>\n
If you like me sharing things like this, please let me know. \u00a0If this type of sharing is a good thing, I’ll post some more excerpts I think are interesting along the way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
At the stroke of midnight last night, I started work on my new novel. \u00a0I was at a kick-off party, surrounded by a bunch of other eager writers. \u00a0Some of them have been doing NaNoWriMo for years and years. \u00a0For a few of them, this was their first year. I’m working on the story now, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-483","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/483","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=483"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/483\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":484,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/483\/revisions\/484"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=483"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=483"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=483"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}