And without further ado, the SFP for chapter 13, in which Bria is now striking out on her own and Ivor becomes a tyrant…oh, how exciting! (Eventually I should start drawing little pictures that go along with these snippets.)

The laden basket weighed down Bria’s arms. She wished she’d have taken up Ilear on her offer to send Res and Revi. They were young and thin, but surely they were able-bodied enough to handle the load, at least partway. But it was too late and bellyaching would get her nowhere. She could only hope her meager provisions would be enough to sustain them a while longer, at least until Ilear was able to afford her own provisions.

It’s clear from that opener I was in a writing funk, but as I worked through the chapter, I slowly came out of it and sure enough, I’m proud of what I have so far. Although I didn’t intend it to be, it’s turned into a mini character study revealing who these two characters are at their core, and it turns out Bria is much stronger than I thought and Ivor much weaker.

I’ve been procrastinating long enough and I haven’t posted up a Shitty First Paragraph in a while, so, now is as good a time as any. Since I’m finishing up the last few chapters (bouncing around) of Love, In Reverse before I move on to editing, it seemed like a good candidate.

Saturday, 2 July, 8:12PM

“You look gorgeous.” Tessa started and turned around. Her mom leaned against the doorframe, smiling. Tessa had only seen that look on her mother’s face a few times before, a mixture of pride and awe. And each time, it left Tessa with knots in her stomach. She smiled and set the brush down on the dresser. Her mother straightened and continued, “Although I don’t think your father’s going to be too excited to see you in that dress.”

At first it was going to be a full-length novel, but after mapping it, I decided it would probably be better served as a novella. This story is firmly rooted in reality (meaning there are no supernatural beings or sci-fi/fantasy elements) and would probably be best classified as drama.

Now, without further ado, the SFP(age):

Friday, 23 September, 9:06PM

Tessa’s phone chirped from the night stand, telling her she’d received a text message. She didn’t move. Her mind was preoccupied with quieting itself. The phone chirped again. Headlights spilled through the blinds momentarily flooding her room with stripes of light and shadow. A car halted at the curb in front of her home. She checked the slit beneath her bedroom door. Still dark.

She rolled over and checked her phone.

RICK 9:06PM: we need 2 talk.
RICK 9:07PM: I need 2 c u.

Tessa had just finished typing her two letter response when the phone chirped again and a new text message consumed the screen.

RICK 9:11PM: im outside. come out.

After deleting the previous three messages, Tessa returned to her text and hit the send button. The phone chirped almost immediately.

RICK 9:13PM: ill knock.

A small gust of air caught in her throat. Again she checked the slit beneath her door. Thirty seconds passed before she was certain her parents hadn’t been awakened telepathically by Rick’s threat.

She called him.

“This will only take a few minutes,” he said the moment he answered the phone, before Tessa could collect her thoughts to speak.

“Why are you doing this?” She whispered.

“Because I love you. And I know that means I need to let you go. That’s why I’m here, to say good-bye.”

I’m actually going to do something a little different and release the first chapter since I’m close to having the entire first draft completed. Click to download Chapter 1 (PDF, 5 pgs.).

I’ve decided to take the tiniest break from writing The Night Princesses, mostly to write a mountain of reviews that are well overdue, but also to write a few short stories for an anthology.

And what better way to ease back into blogging than by posting up a SFP for the latest short story, The Hungry Garden. (That title may change though. Maybe.)

Anywhoozit…the unrefined first page:

Moonlight dripped from the ceiling and painted shadows across the room. I listened. Before, like the first few nights, I would have slapped the pillow over my face and ignored it, but it wore me down. It was the kind of melody that was too beautiful for words, but heartbreak swam beneath the surface, like a dirge disguised as a lullaby. Ten nights at a minute after midnight, without fail.

Maybe I should get up, slip out of bed and gently pad over to the window. Maybe this is the night I see them. Maybe they might invite me to join them.

Before I could will myself to move I was at the window gazing out onto the inky lawn. Weeping willows draped in mist that reminded me of spun sugar and weekends at Nana’s dotted the horizon. How I wanted to join them, if only I knew where they were.

And then, something moving. I glimpsed it, a shadow in bed clothes. I slid open the window and the voices enveloped me. They were all around me, but nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, wait for me.” My own voice sounded inadequate, sinking into the cloying night voices.

I took the stairs two at a time, but it still felt like I was crawling. There were only moments left. Soon they would be gone, replaced by emptiness. If I could just get to the shadow I knew it would lead me to them. Finally.

But something stopped me at the threshold. A vice around my arm pulling me back with such force I thought everything in me shattered when my body met the floor.

Since, like the majority of my stories, this was written longhand, it’s time for me to finish transcribing it. Lots o’ typing ahead.

Anyhoo, enough rambling, more SFP. Again, this will be a few more than the first paragraph because the first few paragraphs are short-ish.

By torchlight, Caydn packed his satchel, making sure he’d have enough food and water for an entire day away from the castle.

“I’d like to come with you,” Danisse said, startling him. He turned around and sighed. “I’m sorry,” she continued. “It seems I still have the bad habit of frightening you.”

“We should get a bell to place around your neck.”

She smiled. It warmed him whenever she smiled a genuine smile, which always seemed fleeting on her dark lips.

Actually, I am excited about this chapter because we get to know a little bit more about Danisse, one of the MC’s, and what Caydn, the other MC, truly thinks of her. This should be revealing.

I was able to finish not only chapter 9, but also chapter 10. Now I’m working on chapter 11, which will be sponsoring today’s SFP. Actually, it will be the first three paragraphs since the first two are pretty sparse, being dialogue and all.

“Where have you been?” Ivor asked as soon as Bria walked through the front door.

She looked away from him and readjusted her shawl. “I was at home.”

Ivor’s nostrils flared. What tenuous hold he had on his temper was lost; he slammed his fist into the table. “That’s not your home. This–” he gestured around the room “–is your home. You are not to go back there again. What do I have to do to make you understand, Bria? Should I have one of the sentries burn it down?” He wavered on the final sentence, afraid she might say yes, afraid that he might actually have to burn it down, the last place he’d seen his son laughing. But, if it came to that, at least he still had his memories. Bria should have been content that she had those as well.

I’m about halfway through chapter 11, but oddly enough, I’m going to set it aside for a moment and start working on chapter 12. (I can do that because the chapters alternate between two different storylines. Sort of.)

Chapter 9’s SFP:

Ivor gave not a second thought to what he’d done as he walked back to his new home. When he arrived, it was dark. Bria had extinguished all the torches. He thought about relighting them until he saw her lying in the bed. He walked through the front room to the bedroom and watched her for a few moments. In sleep she reminded him of Caydn when he was just a young boy. His shirt was curled up under her head, dampened by her wet hair.

Now that I’ve re-read that paragraph, I realize it will make absolutely no sense if you have not yet read the previous eight chapters, or even the one prior. Plus it loses a bit of its mysterious allure. Sorry.

(Eventually I’ll illustrate something to serve as visual aid for the SFPs. Eventually.)