CAMP NANOWRIMO: JULY 2018 (involving snippets [yay!] and lessons learned)
by
R.F. Gammon
- August 03, 2018
But then this book happened...and there was no hiding from the emotion anymore. Ask my cabinmates...I may or may not have made myself cry writing my own story.
My creative well needed salvaging, so I stopped first drafting on the 26th. I probably could have finished the book and kept going, but I honestly didn't want to. I didn't want to force out something mediocre that I'd have to turn around and get rid of later on. So I stopped, and it all worked out alright. It was what needed to happen.
But enough of this....let me give you all some idea of what this story is about (without really saying anything because haha SPOILERS), some aesthetics, and some snippets. ;)
Blurb
Shifting loyalties have torn Esma from one of her allies right when she needs every person possible on her side. She has lost some of the people she loves most in the world, and a chill she'd hoped never to feel again has settled on her bones. Winter looms over her, cutting her off from her city. And Lord Dauthang himself, dissatisfied with the abilities of his servants, has determined to hunt her down himself.
But Esma is not entirely alone. She and her companions stand together against the winter, even as bitterness and distrust threaten to tear them apart. They flee east away from the pursuit, their only goal to survive. Darkness chases them down, seeking Esma's blood. If there's a way out, she doesn't see it.
And soon, she may have to face the darkness head on.
Snippets
When he was able to open his eyes again, a girl stood before him.
A beautiful, absolutely breathtaking girl. A girl in a torn and rather dirty grey dress that fell to her glorious knees, with huge eyes that stared at him with an expression that was equal parts agony and fury. She stared at him, her head slowly shaking, her shoulders hunched together as if to conceal her cold.
Derek found himself quite unable to look away from her.
 |
| This character may or may not be my husband...I'm not even sorry (via Pinterest) |
“I’m—I’m okay.” Was she? She was no longer in her body. She floated somewhere beyond this place, above the forest, above them all, where she could see a boy and two girls, one of whom wore her face. But that couldn’t possibly be her. She was far away, soaring on wings like a bird’s into the forest. Grief and pain could not touch her; they no longer existed.
Maybe she no longer existed.
That didn’t sound so bad.
Because if he was gone—
It was because of her.
There were plenty of women she knew who subscribed to that archaic theory, of men being untrustworthy, and who believed that the only way to survive in a man’s world was to always hold back a piece of yourself, a single piece that you defended with your life from his treachery.
Anna, much though she hated to admit it, believed that it was never right to trust a man. Why would she? No man had ever given her anything besides pain.
But she took it a step further. There wasn’t a single piece of her that she held back from the men; not in the least.
No, she simply showed them one of her masks, and she made them feel what it was to be in their world. For she too could be treacherous, and she was not to be trusted. Men who trusted her found out the hard way that she would turn on them.
The whispers outside the cave of falling snow had ceased. Rishatta shut his eyes and tried to hear the snow breathe. Winter had always been his favorite season, because the cold and he connected with an inhuman bond that he couldn’t exactly explain. The chill settled in his bones next to the native one that lived there, and feeling that cold worked the same as a very hot fire did for most people.
He was one with the cold, inexplicably, beautifully, and the voice of the snow drifted to his ears as familiar as his own.
So...what do you think of my snippets? Am I torturing y'all with all my vague and nonspecific writing updates? XD What's a lesson you've learned in your writing recently? Chat with me in the comments!
