PhoebeJaneWrites

Current Word Count: 50,285 – Winner

It was a really good idea, if not a bit ambitious. The plan was for me to blog my way through NaNoWriMo. Originally, it was going really well. Until real life came and kicked my butt. There was the car accident which resulted in cancelled vacation plans (so much for my plan to write on the beaches of Maui). 

In the thick of it, time felt to creep by but in retrospect those days flew by. Before long, that large edge that I had at the beginning was lost and I was trailing behind. It took alot of work to be able to get enough text for the NaNoWriMo validation to confirm that I completed the challenge. 

Who what’s next? My novel is not finished. I was just able to come up with the 50,000 words required to complete NaNo. However, my research has shown that the standard published novel usually has a word count in the 60,000 – 80,000 range while thrillers could be over 100,000 words.

Not sure how many words will be in my novel but I am going to keep working on it until it is finished. Then on to editing and finally querying.

For now, here is a small sample from my novel Tree of Life. Keep in mind that since I am still working on the novel, there is a possibility that this section may either change or may be removed in it’s entirety.

Write On!

Tree of Life

Truth be told that is what hurts the most. Did I really know him? I have been told that he was always under the Dark One’s spell. That the reason he hurt me was beyond his control. But there is a part of me that wonders. Was it really the Dark One? Or maybe he is just a selfish person. 

That thought makes me laugh. Maybe he is selfish? There is no doubt of Mark’s selfish behavior. How did he even get tangled into the mess of the Cardituisuans? When I asked Algedath, he looked away. There was something more being kept from me. I could see it in his face and in the face of the other soldiers. I also saw something else in their eyes.

It made me sad. It made me mad. It broke my heart once again. The million of pieces spread throughout my life shattered by his lies. I have been gathering each piece and examining them. A memory. A smile. Their edges are jagged. I cut my fingers. I bleed. But I cannot feel. My senses are already overwhelmed. I am transported through the years witnessing each moment as if it was new. Date nights. Whispered promises. Hearty laughs. With each sliver, invite back tears. 

A swirling storm develops. Kiata comes to me. She speaks without speaking another trait of her transformation. 

“It still hurts you.”

I look at Kiata. A wise old bird that had sat at my side as a guide through the strange. My first instinct was to deny but she knew the truth. What was the use in trying to hide it? Maybe she would know the answer I needed. The question that lingered in my thoughts. Pounding at me day and night. 

“When will the hurting stop?”

Her eyes softened. For once she looked more like a mother hen rather than a fiery phoenix. If anyone knew the answer to my question, it would be Kiata. I stared her expectantly. Hopeful. Waiting for an answer.