Issue 3: National Novel Writing Month 2023
An excerpt from The Silent Kill-stroke
This year for National Novel Writing Month, I am continuing the same novel I worked on last year before I broke my wrist in the middle of the month. It's also the same book I started years and years ago as a teenager, and it has evolved in so many ways and layers I don't even have them all pinned down. Including the name of the book, which is still likely to change to something else. But for now, we'll call it The Silent Kill-stroke and of course I won't tell you why because you'll have to read it to find out.
This year I am very proud to start the month of November and the novel challenge with a full outline of the story from beginning to end. I don't have all the details filled in because that's what I enjoy about writing to a certain degree: freedom to create in the moment, but the boundary of an outline is very helpful. I can look at what plot point is next when I get lost in fun descriptions.
That being said, I hope you enjoy this excerpt which has not been edited and is raw writing. I thought it wasn't too terrible to share, and I will likely share other scenes and moments throughout this month from the story as well if they feel up to ...Well, almost par.
Excerpt
So this was how the group arrived at Fordsbrunge: Faran the happiest he had ever traveled with good food twice a day and with an eye towards some profit in the near future, Wyrd with the joy of travel and the idea of a city whose herbs and spices and sauces he had not yet integrated into his own practice, and Archer foot-sore, grouchy, and deep in question about whether or not he should have left what felt like a comfortable bed and his own room, even if the door had been locked. The two men goaded the youth as adults are wont to do when children have entered the pubescent stages of complaint and dissatisfaction, and become easier to rile than ever. Archer was not impressed. He was glad they were likely headed for a tavern, where there would be beer and blankets to warm them all.
They came up the hill to see Fordsbrunge, a minor city seated in a valley where the open plains and low hills dipped deep to meet the river. It had been built where the caravan road crossed, and travelers forded the river there a thousand years ago. People had settled, businesses started to accommodate travelers that went from the great northern metropolis of Noordholt down to the coastal port of Caelitas on the westernmost shore of Ramshed, and over time a loose infrastructure popped up. By the time Faran, Archer, and Wyrd arrived to meet the caravan they would travel with, it was a full-blown city of more people than any of them knew how to count.
They stood at the top of the valley, and Archer could see where the caravan road descended and wound across the snow-covered fields to cut through the city gates. In the distance in the midst of the city he saw a broad, massive granite bridge that cut across the river to meet the other side. It must be a huge river, he thought, if I can see it fathoms away. Fordsbrunge looked like Noordholt to Archer in some ways: the dark buildings painted with tar to seal as much warmth in as possible in the chilly north, the clouds of industry as they rose from the dark tips of temples and tall shacks, and the warm buzz of so many people in close proximity. Plumes of steam, smoke, and other things Archer could not discern, rose from the chimneys of Fordsbrunge.
It was still a few fathoms to get to the gates on this side, but they would make it by nightfall easy. The look of the city that morning as they rose over the hill, as it glittered below them in the early sun, was shiny and white-gold in the reflective sunlight. The Crimson God loomed in the sky, larger than the sun, as it grew with the day. The red orb lurked on the horizon, a hunter that shone with a sanguine glow. That same red-gold hue followed them into the valley and washed the snow with broad orange strokes broken only by the shadows of travelers or the scarce brush or tree.
The closer they got to the city, the stronger the scent of so many people who lived in one place became. With the rare tree in the valley and no hills to block their view or noses, the winter wind managed to carry the rank and varied smell of horse, people, chicken, dog, smoke, burnt wood, tar, and the occasional minuscule twinge of hot roasted nuts to Archer’s nostrils. The day went on, and the three travelers walked in near silence the closer they got. Everyone made plans in their own mind and dreamed of a different comfort.
Wyrd thought of what fresh foods and flavors he might find in the markets for cheap. He could trade some of his own wares for something new to the tongue. Faran thought of meeting up with Irri and her caravan, a troupe of families tightly knit in business and love, and quite profitable with their woven goods and animals. It would be good to make money again, as he ran shorter with every day from his last business venture. It was expensive to come this far north, something he didn’t often do. Archer thought of food, and warmth, as his breath hit the cold air and his feet continued their rhythm towards those very things.
By the time they hit the eastern city gates of Fordsbrunge, the sun was low on the horizon and the twilight of the Crimson God reigned. They had begun their journey into the valley as he rose, and now the red orb in the sky dipped towards the sun’s point of slumber. Archer felt warm and hopeful as they passed through the gates and into the city.
Something I love right now
The Blacktongue Thief is a hilarious, raucous, irreverent, totally inappropriate, clever, and funny fantasy adventure book that I cannot recommend enough. If you can deal with some foul language from the perspective of a thief, the rest of this book falls into place. (Of course, I have no problem with colorful language but I wanted to warn my audience whom I love just in case!) This book is fast-paced and the world-building is beyond incredible. I love the magic system and I can't tell you how many times this book made me gasp, laugh, tear up, and get super angry at the author because how DARE he make me feel things???
This book is a hilarious and adventurous ride. It reads as a mixture of Game of Thrones and Bertie and Wooster, and still manages to squeeze at the heartstrings and shock the reader into oblivion so they need a fresh cup of tea before they continue. This book made me think of my brothers, who are raucous and fun too. They would love this book!
My world
It's been a wild week, ya'll. I mean WILD. We had:
- Halloween, very fun, handed out candy and had a generally good time with my roommate.
- The start of NaNoWriMo
- My job was eliminated, my last day is November 10th (next Friday), so I will be putting all of my working energy into this book for the rest of the month. I am thankful that this is the first time this has ever happened to me, and they will give me one month of severance so I can look for a job in December. It's the first time I have also ever had the opportunity to write a novel full-time during NaNo so I am going to seize it!
- I got my car back after it was in the dealer's shop (I bought a used car from a dealer and thankfully also the warranty) for seven (yes, seven) months! It feels so good to have my car back and not be driving a loaner from the dealer. So, yay! Me and my Subaru are reunited and I can put one BILLION stickers on it !!!
Friends, thank you so much for reading. It means the world to me that I can share my writing, my journey, and wonderful things that exist in the world with you. I wish you a beautiful weekend, and hug those you love.
Much love, Coco