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