Homo sarcasmus - a new species of blog from Heath L. Buckmaster

06 Nov, 2009

NaNoWriMo 2009 – The First 1000 Words

Posted by: heath In: Writing and Language

I thought it might be fun for you, my reader, to get a glimpse into what’s happening with NaNoWriMo 2009. So here I present the first 1000 words of the new story I’m writing.

I am not going to share the title right now, because it’s still just my working title…let me know what you think about it so far…it’s only a snip, so it might not give you too much to go on, but what the heck.

One last note – this is a children’s story and I haven’t figured out whether I want it to read like a parent is reading it to their child, or if the child is reading it themselves. I know I told most of you that I wasn’t going to write any more young reader books after the Princess Carrina series for Young Readers, but I go where inspiration takes me ;-) .

Once upon a time, a mad and crazy witch lived in the topmost room of an abandoned castle. The castle was shaped like the wings of a falcon, wrapped around a central pillar.
Hundreds of years before, the castle was home to a great prince who ruled the land of TeraMagoria. He was a good prince, who was loving and kind to his subjects, but he was terribly alone.

His parents had died when he was just a young boy, so he was raised by the castle servants until he was old enough to sit on the throne as the ruler. He should have been called the king, but he refused to take the title that had belonged to his father.

Over the years, as the prince grew old, all of the friends he once knew moved away, and he was left alone in the castle. Some say he died from old age, but others say he died from lonliness. He could never get over the loss of his parents, and so he spent his remaining years locked away in the upper tower of the castle.

The upper tower – that was now the home of a witch who consorted with ghosts and spirits, including the spirit of the long dead prince. The witch was named Bertha. It was a name that caused the townspeople to laugh, but she was proud of her name – it had been the name of her great, great, great, great grandmother – Bertha the White Witch of TeraDonna, a kingdom far to the south. The current witch Bertha had been born in TeraMagoria, long after the death of the great prince. How she found her way into the prince’s castle was anyone’s guess, but now she lived in the room at the very top, watching over the land by day, and speaking to ghosts by night.

At the moment, she was speaking to the ghost of the Court Jester, Marmoset. Marmoset was dressed in hilarious red and orange robes, with a funny little green hat on his head. His shoes were pointed and curled, as if his toes were pointing up to the sky. He stood in the center of the room juggling balls of white smoke, and laughing at some funny story that was stuck inside his spirit.

Bertha had never heard the funny story – Marmoset could not speak any words, only silent laughter came from his ghostly shape. She watched as the smoky balls flew through the air, until Marmoset grew tired and faded away into the darkness of the room.
Although Marmoset never spoke, he was Bertha’s favourite ghost. She could sit on the corner of her bed and watch him juggle and dance all night long. There was something sad about Marmoset, but he made her laugh.
Bertha’s next favourite ghost was the prince. Prince William the Blue was always dressed in a sparkling blue cape with a blue sash that matched his blue eyes. The prince loved to talk to Bertha, especially about his parents. For some reason the ghosts of his parents never came to the top of the castle, in fact, Bertha could not remember ever seeing their ghosts anywhere in the castle. She did not understand why they would not choose to be near their son’s ghost, but then again, she did not understand ghosts very well.

Ghosts were not as easy to talk to as real people. Ghost voices were usually whispers, and were sometimes hard to hear. Bertha often had to tell the prince’s ghost to speak louder so that she could hear him, even when she was standing directly in front of him.
The nice thing about the ghosts, however, was that they never got angry if she told them to speak up, and they were never cross with her if she was too tired to talk to them. Bertha liked the ghosts, and they liked her, but unfortunately the townspeople thought she was crazy.

“Did you hear her talking to those ghosts last night?” That’s what many of the old women in town would whisper when they saw Bertha walking down the street. “I think the ghosts are only in her head!”
Bertha did not listen to the mean women. She knew the ghosts were real, because she heard them, and saw them, and talked to them! But the ghosts only came out at night, and most of the villagers were asleep them. They had never seen the ghosts for themselves, so they did not believe Bertha when she described them.
But again, Bertha did not care. She knew what she saw, and she loved her ghost visitors.

One bright and sunny day, Bertha left the castle for her morning walk down the river. She liked to soak her feet in the cool water, and watch as little fish swam around biting at her toes. The fish were too small to eat her toes, so it felt like she was being tickled. For being a witch, Bertha was actually very happy and silly, even though the villagers thought she was crazy.
As Bertha soaked her feet in the running water, she noticed a little red fish nibbling on the big toe of her right foot. She had never seen a red fish in the water before – most of them were blue or silver.

“Well look at you little red fishy,” Bertha said. “Where did you come from, and why are you nibbling on my toe?”

Bertha laughed at herself. She was talking to a fish.
Then she remembered that she usually talked to ghosts, and that made her laugh even more!

After Bertha stopped giggling, she looked back into the water and saw that the red fish was still swimming around her toes. Most of the other fish were swimming downstream to their next destination, but the red fish remained.

She pulled her feet out, and then lay down on her stomach with her face only inches above the rippling water. She watched the little red…

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  • heath: Oh Tommy...your comments mirror those of the Dawg as well. They thought Lee's voice was too big for the song. I don't think it was too big, but I can
  • Tommy Marx: Gotta disagree with you on this one sweetie. Yes, Crystal and Siobhan were definitely the best of the women, and while I didn't like the song he sang,
  • heath: Glad we're on the same page regarding Lee ;-). Otherwise, I'm really bored this year. I was hoping that we'd have another big personality like Adam L

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