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Consider me consumed.
I finished Midnight Estates this morning in Film History. I'm not happy with it, but what else is new for me finishing a novel? I will be in time. After a day off and some meditation, I decided my next writing project will be The Poppet and the Lune, though I've yet to decide if I'm going to write it as a novel or a series of short stories. I might pick up The Hierophant and read through it, too, but then again I might not. I don't know if I should finish revising and editing that before I begin its sequel, The Tower. Although, I already technically wrote the prologue for that one.
Hmm.
So, here's an excerpt from the novel I finished, all choppy and rough drafty and NaNo-y.
I wrapped my fingers around the electric torch, and a shot rang out, followed by a yelp and a whimper. “Tristan?” I worried, and was tackled from the side by a swift black shape. I didn’t know who it was because I was surrounded by five huge, snarling black cats. Tatiana; Alexis; David; Valerie; Isabella. Who was who, I had no way of knowing unless they spoke. And even then, I wasn’t certain I would recognize the voice.
I was pinned to the ground, the cat’s claws digging deep into my shoulders, one back paw sharp against my bare thigh. My hand still held the torch, and was inches away from the tangle of branches, drenched in and stinking of gasoline. If I morphed, I wouldn’t be able to light the torch. And even if I did morph, I couldn’t possibly fight them all off. And even if I did survive, there was a very good (bad) possibility that Tristan was already dead, and the only thing I would want out of life would be to exact my revenge upon these sick people...
So I pressed my thumb against the button for the butane, and my index pulled back the trigger for the electric spark. A long blue flame popped out at the end of the torch.
The panthers snarled, growled, and hissed, but with a flick of my wrist their tree would be lost, and they knew it. Tatiana probably also knew that I would very likely go up in flames with the tree if I was still lying here like this—so no one moved. No one knew who had the upper hand.
Johnny roared somewhere nearby, and all five of the panthers transmuted back to their human forms—Tatiana was on top of me; David and Valerie to the left; Alexis behind her; and quiet Isabella, the only one who had shown a lick of compassion all these past months, stood to the far right, fists clenched. But she was not looking at me, nor the torch in my hand, nor the felled tree that had given her immortality—she was looking at all the rest of them.
Then: “Zelda, let go of the lighter.” Johnny’s voice was pained, and it gladened me. At least Tristan had managed to get in a few good bites before the end. “He’s dying, Zelda. He won’t make it if you kill me. If you put down the lighter, I promise I’ll save him. He’ll live—you’ll both live. No punishments. We can go back to the way things were—”
There was a scrambling noise, claws against pavement, and a hard thump of impact. Johnny cried out—it was muffled and wet, and all too familiar. Tristan was taking one last bite, answering Johnny’s proposition for me.
I let my wrist sink, bringing the bright blue flame to the fuel-soaked branches, thinking Yes, my love. Yes. We are finally free, as the flames washed over me.
(yes the cut text is a quote from the novel. I am self-important like that. ;p )
Hmm.
So, here's an excerpt from the novel I finished, all choppy and rough drafty and NaNo-y.
I wrapped my fingers around the electric torch, and a shot rang out, followed by a yelp and a whimper. “Tristan?” I worried, and was tackled from the side by a swift black shape. I didn’t know who it was because I was surrounded by five huge, snarling black cats. Tatiana; Alexis; David; Valerie; Isabella. Who was who, I had no way of knowing unless they spoke. And even then, I wasn’t certain I would recognize the voice.
I was pinned to the ground, the cat’s claws digging deep into my shoulders, one back paw sharp against my bare thigh. My hand still held the torch, and was inches away from the tangle of branches, drenched in and stinking of gasoline. If I morphed, I wouldn’t be able to light the torch. And even if I did morph, I couldn’t possibly fight them all off. And even if I did survive, there was a very good (bad) possibility that Tristan was already dead, and the only thing I would want out of life would be to exact my revenge upon these sick people...
So I pressed my thumb against the button for the butane, and my index pulled back the trigger for the electric spark. A long blue flame popped out at the end of the torch.
The panthers snarled, growled, and hissed, but with a flick of my wrist their tree would be lost, and they knew it. Tatiana probably also knew that I would very likely go up in flames with the tree if I was still lying here like this—so no one moved. No one knew who had the upper hand.
Johnny roared somewhere nearby, and all five of the panthers transmuted back to their human forms—Tatiana was on top of me; David and Valerie to the left; Alexis behind her; and quiet Isabella, the only one who had shown a lick of compassion all these past months, stood to the far right, fists clenched. But she was not looking at me, nor the torch in my hand, nor the felled tree that had given her immortality—she was looking at all the rest of them.
Then: “Zelda, let go of the lighter.” Johnny’s voice was pained, and it gladened me. At least Tristan had managed to get in a few good bites before the end. “He’s dying, Zelda. He won’t make it if you kill me. If you put down the lighter, I promise I’ll save him. He’ll live—you’ll both live. No punishments. We can go back to the way things were—”
There was a scrambling noise, claws against pavement, and a hard thump of impact. Johnny cried out—it was muffled and wet, and all too familiar. Tristan was taking one last bite, answering Johnny’s proposition for me.
I let my wrist sink, bringing the bright blue flame to the fuel-soaked branches, thinking Yes, my love. Yes. We are finally free, as the flames washed over me.
(yes the cut text is a quote from the novel. I am self-important like that. ;p )
no subject
i want to read one okay
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Really? Cause i'm thinking of doing a print-on-demand publication of one of my, uh, less marketable novels. Maybe I'll give you a copy for Kwanza. I dunno. I get nervous about letting my peers see what I write.
no subject
It looks quite promising from the excerpt; I certainly would be interested to see more someday.
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It actually is an astounding movie, even for all the hype its received over the years. Really on a par with the great works of literature, I should say. But I agree with your professor that excerpting that film is just plain bastardy. :P