Currently Reading: Prince Caspian - C. S. Lewis
Hm. Screw keeping track of my word count. I'll do it for my individual stories, I suppose, but it seems kinda pointless to keep a running total on my bloog. Seems a bit too much like looking for praise.
Anyway, I've actually written something now. I've gotten a first draft out for the first chapter of The Broken Arrow, or TBA. What a fitting acronym, I suppose, considering my past history of false starts on this sort of thing.
So here's a sample of the first draft. Nothing too major, but it already raises a couple questions, and I honestly like how this turned out.
'There's nothing like this.' Cornelius Fudge cheerfully thought, leaning back in his plush green chair and swinging his feet up to rest on the lacquered mahogany surface of his desk. His purple pointed boots wiggled as he hummed tunelessly, and he leaned forward slightly to pick up a teapot and one of the teacups that had been awaiting his arrival in his office this morning along with a pile of baked goods.
'No, there's nothing like being the Minister.' Fudge thought with satisfaction. He blinked when he looked down at the teacup in his hand, surprised to see that the inside of the cup was caked with brown grime. After a cautious sniff yielded no conclusions, he carefully put down the cup, brought his feet to the ground, pulled out his wand, and cast a cleaning charm. Most of the mess vanished, leaving only a barely visible brownish ring around the edge of the cup.
After glancing dubiously at the cup for a moment, Fudge shrugged and poured the tea into the cup. He rested back in his seat, and brought his tea to his mouth. Taking a sip, his eyes bulged comically for a moment before he spat the tea back into the cup. “What in the hell...?” Fudge asked the air, staring down at the reddish liquid. “It's cold as ice!”
Fudge shook his head in irritation, glaring at the door to his office for a moment. He had already been seriously considering firing his assistant as her conduct had been abysmal ever since he resumed his post two months ago, and this tea was the shoddiest he'd seen yet. Fudge had tolerated her rudeness thus far – a slight blush rising on his face as he considered why he had allowed such mistreatment from the attractive witch – but she seemed to have absolutely no respect for his position, and barely seemed to be able to stand being in the same room as him.
It didn't make any sense to him, Fudge pondered, as he leaned back in his seat after casting a heating charm on his tea. After taking another cautious sip, he leaned back further in his chair and spun to face the enchanted window behind his desk.
So that's your little preview. No, the entire story does not focus on Fudge, although that's an interesting idea as I don't know if I've ever seen a story like that. Hm. Interesting.
Anyway, this chapter was originally supposed to just be a prologue, but it got to the point where it seemed a bit ridiculous. If the prologue is 4500 words long, which is certainly a respectable chapter length, it seemed to be asking a lot of the actual chapters. Perhaps I could cut down the pre-story chatter a bit, but it's certainly not the worst I've ever seen.
Not to be a snobby ass, but I'm afraid that honor goes to those who put one of those atrocious interviews before their stories where the author pretends to converse with the characters. I'm sorry, I'm sure you're a delightful person, but those things just irritate me and as a result I tend to be irritated with your story.
That's just me, though, and what do I know? Maybe I'm wrong. I certainly have been many times in the past.
I'm out.
