The Grafitti on the Wall
I hit that annoying wall. You know the one. It has a big sign painted on it that says, “Hey, Writer, You Suck!” There’s another sign below it proclaiming, “Your story sucks, too.” I know both signs are bogus. If I had to guess I’d say they stem from the near impossible task I’ve set myself of getting Coinblade in suitable shape to submit to Angry Robot by the end of this month. I’ve been pounding on it relentlessly for almost a month now. Non-stop. To the Exclusion of All Else. The end is in sight. Knowing that, the Self Doubt monsters emerge, force me to over-think, and begin to pick at my otherwise healthy ego because it’s exhausted and not paying attention. So, at the risk of shooting myself in the foot, I need to back off for a couple days. I need to put CB on the back burner and maybe start some edits on Emergence. Or, I don’t know, work on a cover? It’s a crazy thing to do with a deadline only . . . 27 days away. Then again, I’m chock full of crazy ideas.
Speaking of crazy. After our interview Monday, Eden took the flying monkeys for an outing because they’d been so well behaved. They proved that isn’t always the case by leaving their mark on the wall. *sigh*
I suggested they clean it up. They suggested I . . . well . . . let’s not get into that. It’s not physically possible anyhow. Friday, another WIPterview heads your way, so make sure you come back for that.
Now, on to our WIPpet for this week. It comes from CB. For today’s date I went to page 12, and am giving you 4 (short) paragraphs, plus 13 bonus lines. 12/4/13. Viola! That’s about as straightforward as WIPpet math is bound to get. This scene is a flashback to when Driev and Andel were boys.
Andel Barkum and I started running the streets on the high side of Gilded Wall when we were boys. I had two years on him, and Andel had half a head more height than I. Outside of that, we looked enough alike to pass for brothers. We both had the brown eyes, tawny skin, and black hair of our southern ancestors, though he possessed the angular features and sharp nose brought by the addition of pure, Nobrian blood. He had a regal air about him as well. Even at six years old. He didn’t even have to try. The way he carried himself led people to avert their eyes and tip their heads as though the Crown Duke himself had walked past.
My air caused people to whisper a quick prayer to their goddess and make the sign of the Blessed Good.
We were going to be pirates; braving the Outer Sea, battling the monsters said to dwell there, striking fear into the hearts of travelers. But then Andel heard some legend about a long lost city deep within the mountains to the far north, said to contain enough treasure to make even the Duke’s bursar weep.
“What do you say, Dri?” he said as we lay on our backs on the library roof, the stars twinkling overheard, sharing a fresh fruit pie we’d snitched from The Elegant Baker. “We go find the treasure first, then use that to buy our ship?”
“I suppose.” I licked my fingers. We hadn’t needed to steal the pie. We both had coin to spare. Everyone on the high side of Gilded Wall had more than plenty. The theft had been my idea. A game to play. And a way of getting back at my father for some childish grievance I could no longer remember. Only we hadn’t gotten caught which meant my father would never know, and my attempt to shame him had failed. But the pie was damn good. “But pirates don’t buy things, right?”
Andel pursed his lips, stained red with berry juice. “Right.”
Ah, such an innocent pair. Well, okay, so maybe only Andel’s innocent. You know who else are a bunch of innocent folks? No, really. Do you? I bet you thought I was going to say, “WIPpeteers.” *cue maniacal laughter*