My First Draft Is A Mess That's Ok With That: A Video

It’s week two of Camp NaNoWriMo, and I’ve recorded another vlog about how I’m going. I’m coming to the realisation that this draft is an absolute mess. And you know what? I’m perfectly ok with that. In the vlog, I explain why.

Also, as an extra little bonus, here’s an excerpt from my Camp NaNo Novel. It is woefully unedited and first draft-y as I haven’t touched it since I wrote it, but hopefully you find it enjoyable anyway.

The song rose.

It shivered through the air. Briar heard two men's voice singing in unison, synchronised in the song of the Tree. Briar could feel the call echoing something familiar in her blood, a song that she had heard before. But over all of that was an unmistakable thrill of magic. The people around her could feel it. Their gasps and the rubbing of their tingling skin told her everything. The song was rising, swirling, almost visible in the air such was the quiet power behind it. It spilled over the edge o the wall and raced down towards the children.

Below, the song of the army swelled. They must be feeling the power of the song facing them. There was no fear. Just music as they pushed back against the song. But the Song Catchers could not be stopped. The song rose higher and higher, louder and louder until it was beyond wahat any human could produce. It rolled down in an unstoppable wave that swept everything before it. Briar couldn't think. Couldn't draw breath. Could only watch in horror as the song swept over the army below.

And they fell.

Line after line, body after body, child after child, they fell before the power of the Song Catcher. The songs died away into silence, voice after voice pushed into silence by the Song Catchers, until at last the only sound in the air was that of the two Masters, singing the song of the Catchers, drawing the magic back, out of the children, tearing it from their bodies.

And then the screams started.

Briar's hands clamped over her ears. She wanted to close her eyes. The children screamed as their magic was taken from them. Thin, inhuman screams of pure agony as part of their very essence was taken away, ripped brutally by the Catchers. She couldn't bear it. The tears flowed freely from her eyes. They were suffering so, so much. Who could do this to another human?

And then the screams faded into silence. And the silence was worst of all.

How is your Camp NaNoWriMo going? What are you working on at the moment? Let’s chat!