So, you all should already know that I am a Traitor and am writing a sci-fi novel now instead of historical fiction (I’m still hoping to work on editing Forest of Lies, however). But, in case you’re wondering what I’m up to, and because I’m an author and like people to know what I’m working on, here’s some of the basics of my novel Quintessence.
Hero: Hywel, a fourteen-year-old boy.
Name inspiration: Okay, no, not telling. You have to read it. (Once I release it.)
Status: Ready for Chapter 2 of the rough draft; 2,800 words so far.
Projected Length: 12 chapters, 25,000-50,000 words.
Hywel's always asked questions. But no one's ever gotten angry, no one's ever been sent to his house to straighten him out over them. No one's ever died. His questions have never been worth bothering about.First page:
But now they are. Now, Management is standing at his door. Now, people are dying. Now, his questions are too big, too dangerous. They threaten The Good Life. They threaten Hywel's life. They threaten the lives of his friends. But really, he's only asking one thing. Why is it such a big deal? Why will Management stop do anything to stop him questioning? It's really only one question. One small, simple question.
What is quintessence?
My grandfather’s dead. That doesn’t sit that well with The Good life, however, so my parents will fix it.God bless your weekend!
I’m not even supposed to know he’s dead, but I have a habit of tinkering with the old comp, thinking that if I jiggle enough wires, the Internet just might be resurrected. That’s why my parents didn’t see me when they came into the Main Room--I lay bunched up underneath the comp desk with my hand tangled in a nest of wires.
“It’s just so--shocking, Nelson. I can’t--can’t cope,” my mother said in a breathy voice. “People don’t die anymore!”
“Look, Agnes,” my father said. “It says on the box that we only have to call for Management, mention a dustbin, and it’ll all be sorted.”