NaNoWriMo Excerpts / NathanBransford Forum Participants

[bcomet]

On NaNoWriMo, on your own page, you can list a synopsis and an excerpt.

I thought, that those who wanted to share might consider posting those samplers here, not for critique or feedback per se (or maybe yes???) but to see what this forum's participants were writing about, and for fun.

???

[CBridges]

Sure. I'll play. :)

http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/515973

You didn't post a link of your own, but I'd enjoy seeing your excerpt.

Quickie description:

The View from Upper High Hog: An outrageous former Vaudevillian finds herself put out to pasture, fumbling between her perplexing new job as guardian to a Russian child and her misadventures trying to regain her former glory (not to mention a ticket back to New York) through playing what she dubs “The Jackalope Circuit.”

(Arizona: early years of the Cold War)

Bebe always said, “If you’re gonna do something, toots, do it big or get off the stage.” She practiced what she preached. When she was ready to make a change, there was no simple announcement. Nothing less than a world-shattering kaboom would do to say, “Hey world, I’m comin’ for ya.”

One chilly night when I was ten, Bebe dragged me from my happy perch in front of Leave It to Beaver and herded me outside, showing me a ladder tilted against our low bungalow’s wall.

“Climb it, kiddo.” Waving her cigarette at it as she exhaled a thin plume of smoke, she nudged me with her other hand. “Go on, now. Life’s too short.”

I started my climb.

She grunted below me. “Shorter than ever, thanks to things like this.”

I took that as warning of how deadly the ladder was and stopped climbing, shaking in my thin nightgown. I was just a kid, and maybe I should have been more sheltered and secure, unable to imagine that my Bebe was leading me to anything other than perfect safety. But I’d been raised by an actress who valued comedy over coddling and spent my school years under the careful abuse of Lefton Academy for Girls. I knew life was always ready to go crazy, turn its back on you, or kick you in the teeth — sometimes all three, sometimes just for laughs.

I guess I made it to the roof. I remember the feel of asphalt roof tiles beneath my palms. I had this idea that I couldn’t fall if my hands were planted firmly on the gritty surface. Or maybe I was just reaching for the fading warmth. The wind didn’t always make it down to the ground, but it had free rein up by the vent pipes. (No chimneys for our high desert neighborhood, just logs made of concrete and orange plastic flames that fluttered in the breeze from the heat register beneath. I used to believe in those flames until the light bulb in the back burned out and Bebe refused to replace it.)

I asked Bebe why we had to be up there that night.

She laughed, spreading her arms. “You ain’t seen fireworks like this before, Turtle. Neither have I. These are the kind of bottle rockets that can end the world in the wrong hands.”

I don’t know how long we sat there, just that I was getting antsy and wanting to cry by the time that brilliant flash lit the horizon. A tiny puffy arrow pointed at the heavens, which glowed obediently.

“What is it?” I was afraid that arrow would start pointing our way.

Bebe’s festive expression was gone. She held her cigarette close to her mouth, arm draped across her drawn-up knees. Her face was still, sober, her eyes distant — more distant than the hellish arrow.

I said her name again. Bebe was unreachable enough on a happy day. This colder distance always scared me when it came along, which was more and more lately.

Her eyes were still distant as she turned my way. “A sign.” Focusing, she squinted, took a drag and blew it out. “It’s the big one, Turtle. So big it got the first, most important letter of the alphabet.”

I looked at the arrow. Arrow started with A. So did Arizona.

“That’s all the way to Nevada right there. What they call a mushroom cloud.”

“Who’d they blow up?” Sally at school said Las Vegas was known as sin city. Maybe the president decided to kill two birds with one stone. Test a bomb, rid the world of sin.

“Couple of coyotes, maybe. Paper says we shouldn’t worry about the testing, these things are way out back of beyond.”

Well, then they’d changed their tune.

In school, they scared us that the bombs were right in our backyards. They’d have us watch these stuttery filmstrips with cartoon mushrooms and Tommy the Turtle. I hated him. Not only did he threaten to ruin Bebe’s nickname for me, he made us get under our desks and challenged us to do it better than he did. So I always felt like I was waiting for death and doing it wrong.

The teacher would pass out sheets of newspaper that we had to put over our head for reasons I’m still unsure of today. I was always convinced that it was a practical joke, that only I was dumb enough to follow orders, and that one of the girls would take advantage and bash me over the skull. I’d never hear them coming because the newsprint made me sneeze. A few times I got the obituary page, which I’d try not to read. I’d just imagine some other kid looking up at my name printed there someday.

When I was really little, I thought Tommy the Turtle was actually a duck in disguise, that one day he’d open his cover and show us his wings. Bebe laughed when I told her that. Said that was the kind of mutation everyone was worried about from the A-bomb.

So we sat on the roof that night when I was ten, risking turtle-duck mutation and not realizing it was the start of our personal war to escape exile.

Or maybe one of us realized.

I always replay that part right after the explosion. Bebe saying it was a sign. Bebe always wanting to do things with a bang. I blamed the bomb later on for giving her the idea, but I think Bebe would have seen the sign she wanted just about anywhere, even if it was just the neon glow of the lounge at the Monte Vista Hotel.
_____________________________________________________________________

[cheekychook]

Why not?

I don't have any excerpts or a synopsis posted on my NaNo page, but I'll post a brief excerpt here. For anyone who's followed my posts about the novel I'm querying, the NaNo is the continuing story of my characters Daniel and Marienne---the novel is about how they meet and fall in love... the NaNo is about them after they are married. This scene is from somewhere in the first 100 pages of the NaNo (aka The Professor and Marienne).



Daniel tapped his thumb on his coffee mug while he waited for the document to finish printing. It was 9:15, which gave him fifteen minutes to get to class. He yawned. Morning classes didn’t appeal to him as a professor any more than they had as a student. He swiveled his chair toward the window. It was a grey New York day and people hurried along Waverly Place.

“What the hell are you doing? Your printer’s been going nonstop for an hour.”

Daniel turned to see Christina striding into his office as the last sheet chugged out. She grabbed it and read aloud. “Pregnant Pauses.” Her eyes widened. “By Daniel Gardner.” Her eyebrows rose and she snapped up the whole stack of papers, darting out of his way as he lunged for them.

She flipped through the pages. “I didn’t know you were working on anything.”

“That’s because I didn’t tell you.” He stood and stepped toward her. “Now give it back.”

She grinned. “Of course.” She backed away. “As soon as I’m done reading.” She raced across the hall to her office and slammed the door.

He could hear her laughing. He pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose then rubbed his eyes, trying to ward off the headache he felt brewing. It was ten minutes until class.

He strode across the hallway and grabbed the doorknob. It was locked. He knocked.

“Who is it?”Her voice was sweet and singsongy.

“Give it back,” he said.

“I’ll be finished by the time your lecture is over. You better run along, don’t want to keep those students waiting.”

He closed his eyes and raked his hand through his hair. “Now, please.”

“Go. You’re bothering me. I’m trying to read.”

He knew it was pointless to try to convince her. He checked his watch and sighed. “I’m bothering her.” He muttered as he headed out of the building.

Three hours later he walked back down the corridor. Christina’s door was open and Daniel paused before he reached it. What if she thought it was total rubbish? He hadn’t planned on having anyone read it--it was more a form of therapy than a writing exercise. His stomach tensed as he peeked into her office. She was at her desk, leaning back in her chair, an open book on her lap. Oh, good, she’s reading something else. Maybe she didn’t read my stuff.

“There you are.” She motioned to the chair beside her desk. “I’ve been waiting for you. Close the door.”

Close the door? Oh God. She hated it. She needs privacy to tell me. He took a seat, rubbing his thumb along the square armrest, bracing for a barrage of criticism.

“How long have you been working on this?” She held up his screenplay.

He was tempted to grab it and leave. “Just a few months. It’s my insomnia project while Marienne’s been pregnant. It’s…”

“It’s fantastic.”

Wait. What? He gaped at her.

She thumbed through it, nodding. “The whole thing, the characters, the situations, the emotions. It’s brilliant. Not to mention hilarious. I nearly peed my pants--for real--I didn’t want to stop reading to go to the bathroom.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He narrowed his eyes. Christina was notorious for being critical. She never liked anything.

“I’m serious. I had three cups of coffee this morning. I really had to pee.”

“Not what I meant.”

She blinked.

He sighed. “Come on, you’ve said the nice things, now tell me what you really thought.” He shifted in the chair, waiting.

“I already did. I love it. I mean there are a few things you could tweak, but otherwise it’s great. What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to take it back from my kleptomaniacal coworker and put it in a box.”

“Oh no-no-no. You can sell this.”

Daniel laughed. “Okay, give me twenty bucks.” He held out his hand.

She swatted it. “I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I, where’s my money?”

To his amazement she reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.

“Here.” She smushed a bill into his hand.“But I’m keeping it. I want to read it again.”

“Fine.” Daniel’s stomach rumbled. “Have you eaten?”

“No, I’ve been too busy reading this brilliant new writer and trying not to wet myself.”

“Let’s go get lunch. On me.” He held up the twenty. “I just sold my first screenplay.”

[bcomet]

Update: excerpt is currently in editing.

[charlotte49ers]

I used NaNo to make progress on my already existing WIP.

I blow at creating summaries. Just fair warning.

Summary:

There are three things that seventeen-year-old Adelaide has accepted as fact:

Her existence is a genetic mistake.
Her purpose in life is to serve the Cherished.
She will never know love.

Adelaide never questions these truths until the day an outsider finds his way to her remote village deep in the rainforest. Charged with his care, she finds herself entranced and begins believing Cam’s stories about life outside of Himmelreich. His theory about the village leader Erich’s background is one of the most frightening, yet encouraging of them all.

The two begin to plot a way of escape, but staying stealth won’t be easy, especially once Felix, Erich’s son and Adelaide’s one true friend among the Cherished, discovers their plans. Trying to dismiss the beliefs that have defined her life for the past seventeen years won’t be easy either.

Excerpt:

Whispers have flown between the mouths and ears of the Forsaken all day, but I’ve done well to stay away from the talk. News of the outsider intrigues me as much as anyone, but I don’t see much point in generating hushed theories behind cupped hands. I’ll see the truth in a matter of minutes, so why waste my time?

I’m the first scheduled to serve the outsider in his cell, which is typical. Frau Griselda sets our assignments and I’m pretty sure she wants me to die of a heart attack.

I hate her.

“What do you think it’s like?” Felix asks as I stare into the darkness of the stairwell the leads down from the kitchen.

“I don’t want to think about it.”

I twist to face him and watch while he slaps mayonnaise onto a thick slice of bread.

A couple of younger Forsaken take a few steps into the room, but when they spot Felix they gasp and scurry off. He chuckles, but I can’t help feeling sorry for them. Felix is one of the kind ones, especially for a Cherished, but we’re taught to stay invisible when his type is near.

“I’ve heard outsiders have five arms and are so dumb they’re practically drooling.” His words jar my thoughts away from the young ones. I stare as he brings his sandwich to his lips and takes a large bite. My mouth waters a bit as I haven’t eaten anything that looked that good in a while.

“I can’t imagine,” I say as a shiver trails down my spine.

“Whatever. Being an outsider might not be so bad.” His casual shrug shows just how little he understands.

“I like having functional mental capacities, thank you very much. Well, wish me luck.”

“Luck has been wished.” He winks at me and leaves the kitchen, food in hand.

[Claudie]

Oookay, took me a while to find something I dared to post here, despite all the mistakes in it. ^^ This exceprt is Ozil Melenski finding the first sign that his westward exploration isn't entirely vain.

Synopsis:
Caporal-mage Ozil Melenski was sent sailing west to discover new lands - or so the official declaration says. Prince Heike is just glad to be rid of the mage while he executes his plan to assassinate his father and become king of Edingher.

Taking the throne and keeping it are two different tasks, however, and newly-crowned King Heike has siblings to deal with. His older brother, the legitimate heir, has escaped south to heretic Cerrei, and his sister just married in neighbouring Faustein's nobility. Melenski's unexpected return complicates the matter, as the powerful mage could tip the scales in any direction.

Prince Heike might dream of leading his conquest-obsessed Edingher out of the dogma that ruined it, but he must first avoid the war his own actions caused.

Excerpt:
At the bottom of the cliff was an a protected water bay, and in said bay a vessel was anchored. It was smaller than the Vallyndar, but there was something smoother about it, and Melenski knew it might be faster. He could not tell why, he was not a sailor, but he guessed it was the beauty of exquisite design of this strange ship.

Immediately he searched for people on board, but there was no crew to speak of on the deck. He glanced at the rocky beach and found it empty, too. Frowning, he re-examined the ship and realised it was old, and the hull was covered in a thick moss. The sails seemed worn out, and there were large tears in them he'd not yet noted.

"Did you go down?" he asked, knowing as he did that Tatch would nod. When his navigator did, Melenski turned to him. "Tell me."

His heart was beating fast, his mind reeling with the possibilities. This was not a ship from Edingher, nor Faustein. The plains kingdom had little in the way of ship craftsmanship. The same, in fact, was true for the Cerrei peninsula. They built river rafts and canoes they could use in their mountainous areas, as well as small and sturdy cargo vessels, but nothing of the sort.

What he was staring at was new. It had been created by strangers, and Melenski had the intuition it did not come from the eastern continent.

"Empty, Ozil," his navigator said in a whisper. He did not often used his first name. "It has been empty for years, by my estimation. There are, hum, a few skeletons on board. There's also some strange apparatus. I could not figure out how they worked."

"Fascinating," Melenski said, and he saw Tatch cringe. He ignored the movement and added, with a grin to match even his navigator's largests: "I want to see for myself."

"Melenski, I'm not making that climb again!"

The caporal-mage only laughed at that declaration. Perhaps it was the thrill, but his terrible headache had subsided since he'd spotted the wrecked ship. He still felt wobbly on his feet, but not to the point of refusing to risk magic. He closed his eyes, and felt around for the constant energy held within Vien's blessed breezes.

"Climbing is for youngsters."

His feet lifted from the ground as he spoke, and Melenski focused his power into a thin disk under the soles of his boots. He created one for Tatch, too, and imagined for a moment the surprise that must be expressed by his features. He did not dare open his eyes, however, and lose his tenuous concentration.

The disks brought them all the way down the steep cliff's face, to the rocky beach below. The wind blew harder as he lowered them, threatening to smash them into the walls behind if he did not hold strong. A lesser mage might have killed himself.

Even hangover, however, the caporal-mage Ozil Melenski was not a lesser mage. He did not even break sweat.

"Well, I am happy to discover alcohol does not thoroughly impede my powers."

"... Discover?"

He heard the breathless, fearful undertone in Tatch's question, and this time he did look at his navigator. The man was white as a sheet, but when Melenski laughed at his discomfiture, he only grinned widely. He recovered easily from a fright, that one. That was a good quality in soldiers.

Without further comments, Melenski approached the tall vessel. The hull always seemed bigger when you were on the ground, looking up towards the railing. He ran his hand on the wood, smoothened by years at sea, and the moment he touched it, he felt something different there. He did not know what, but something about this wood did not feel the same as the Vallyndar's.

"Did you touch the hull?" he asked Tatch.

"When I climbed, yes. I had to get on board somehow."

"Does it feel different to you?"

Tannen Tchev shook his head, and Melenski wondered if he was crazy. Perhaps it was the jingsu affecting his brain. This wood was cold, though. It lacked a warmth every plank had in Edingher.

That was the first of the mysteries he was about to discover.

[sarahdee]

Synopsis

Its 1925, England, and Mags and Henri are out to save the world from evil. Again.

Extract

Mags said nothing. She was in a bit of a fix now as Valdheeta well knew. When it came to a magical fight there was no comparison, Mags would die within minutes and Valdheeta would show no remorse. The fact they shared sisterly blood meant nothing, in fact Mags was sure that would just make her sister torture her more. She quickly racked the few protection spells that may work off in her head. If she could just hold her off long enough to run then she might stand a chance. Or could she use a stun spell quickly enough to catch Valdheeta off guard for the few seconds it would take to kill her physically. Valdheeta’s body was weak and Mags was sure she could defeat her in hand-to-hand combat.

“Show me what you are up to,” insisted Valdheeta. She held up her hand to draw the bag to her and Mags felt herself sliding the bag down her shoulder and handing it over even though she willed herself to stop. She managed to keep her feet planted and not walk the few steps to her sister to pass the bag even though her body was desperate to do Valdheeta’s bidding.

“Come on baby girl, don’t resist me,” said Valdheeta, irritated that Mags was able to hold her own at all. She must have concentrated the magic as Mags felt her body weaken and move one step closer holding out her bag in front of her. Then it stopped. Mags felt her body reign back under her own control and her hand dropped to her side, still clutching the bag.

“Ouch,” said Valdheeta rubbing her head. She still had her eyes on Mags but she called back behind her. “Henri, is that you darling? Oh how lovely. A family reunion.”

“I’m no family of yours you old hag,” said Henri from behind Valdheeta and Mags risked a small sigh of relief. A smile spread to her lips. Alone she could not defeat her sister but when Henri and Mags had the bitch surrounded she was no match for the two of them.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling at little sister? You might be getting away in one piece now but I’ll find you. Henri can’t always look after you.”

“Henri can look after Mags just fine,” said Henri.

“Really? Even when I return with a few friends?” asked Valdheeta. And then, it what seemed like a flurry of cloak and smoke, she was gone.

“How’d she do that?” asked Henri. “Is her magic that strong?”

“No. It’s just a parlour trick to disillusion the mind while she skulks off unnoticed. Thank you for turning up like that. How did you break her concentration?”

“Rock,” said Henri.

“A rock spell?” asked Mags.

“No, I threw a rock at her.”

“Henri, you are really are priceless you know.”

[bcomet]

I love reading these! And realize most of NaNoWriMo results are still in the rough stage, but it's really interesting to read a little of the raw creative writings from fellows on this forum!