Chapter Excerpt

Today's blog will be the first few pages of my manuscript. They say you have to hook the reader in the 1st 5 pages. Well lets have a stab at it. Here's the opening chapter of QuestSeekers


Chapter 1
Quest Seekers
The country of Ishmar was home to four kingdoms. Lindor in the east. Salnon in the north. Taneer in the south and the heavily taxed kingdom of Dilroc in the west. People fell into one of two categories: the crumbs or the upper crusts. The crumbs were the working class folks such as blacksmiths, seamstresses, shoemakers, woodcutters, etc. People who had just enough for a hot meal and a roof over their heads. The upper crusts were mostly those born into nobility such as kings and queens, also aristocrats, dignitaries or anyone lucky enough to work within the royal courts. In the country of Ishmar the relationship between the crumbs and the upper crusts were quite strained, except in the kingdom of Lindor, where the two just kept their distance.
The Lindor kingdom was populated with several villages scattered throughout the land. One of those villages was called Pleasant Hills. In that village, a farm girl rationed out chicken feed to several hens. “Don’t be greedy,” she scolded a plump brown and white hen. She sat on the rickety fence and wiped her brow with a dusty hand. She watched the hens peck away at the ground. The farm girl was named Xanith Tinsdale. She lived with her adoptive parents, Alma and Winston; they found her abandoned in the woods seventeen summers ago. A merry whistle diverted her attention from the hens. Coming down the dirt pathway was Chartreuse, Xanith”s best friend since the time they learned how to talk.
Chartreuse was as different from Xanith as the sea was from the sky. She was the daughter of a whitesmith (her father was the only one who polished metal weapons in all the villagers in the east). This paid handsomely so Chartreuse often wore clothes that made her appear to be a member of the middle crust (a disappearing class). Today was no exception as she floated down the pathway in a pea green ankle length brocaded dress, complete with a cinched waistline. Loose raven curls framed her ebony cheeks and fell around her shoulders. She was no doubt one of the most resplendent maidens in the village. Xanith on the flip side was mostly plain. Often her butterscotch face was powdered with dirt, her hair often plaited and pinned into a bun. She was dressed in an oversized brown tunic, cowhide belt and tan leggings.
“Xan, they found another one.” Chartreuse thrust the Eastern Gazette at Xanith’s chest.
Xanith read the bold face headline: servant girl found outside the palace grounds.
“She was nothing but skin and bones and aged like a hundred times over.” Chartreuse’s eyes were wide as any sea.
Xanith shuddered. “That’s terrible. That’s like the tenth one or so,” she said dusting off her leggings. “They need to catch that mad man.”
“I’m terribly frightened.” Chartreuse ran her fingers through her hair.
“Have no fear, Wilhelm the brave is here.”
The girls spun around to see their friend, Wilhelm, the baker’s son bounding toward them. He was easy to spot in a crowd with sun bright skin and a tuft of sandy brown hair. A lopsided grin decorated his face. “I know what we’re going to do today,” he said merrily.
Xanith traded sidelong glances with Chartreuse. “What do you have in mind?” they asked in unison.
“Going on a quest,” he said, his grin growing wider.
Chartreuse groaned.
“We have mini-quest all over this village.” Xanith made a sweeping motion with her hand toward the expanse of the farm. “There’s nothing interesting around Pleasant Hills.”
“That’s because we need to go on a maxi-quest. Somewhere beyond this village, he said.
“Maxi-quest. Is that even a real phrase.” Chartreuse pondered aloud.
“Where?” Xanith tapped her fingers against her hips.
“To find the onyx sword.”
Xanith traded glances with Chartreuse again. “Never heard of it.”
“Rumor has it that nobody has ever been able to hold onto it.” he said his voice layered in a whisper.
“Why?” Chartreuse inquired.
“I don‘t know.” Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps the right person hasn’t claimed it, like me.
“You can buy a sword,” Xanith said.
Wilhelm scoffed. “I’m so broke I can’t even pay attention.”
“Did you know they found another girl, aged and dead,” Chartreuse said in a quiet voice.
“So, that’s an upper crust problem,” Wilhelm said.
“The victims are usually servant girls,” Chartreuse retorted.
Wilhelm soften a bit. “Well when I get my sword I’ll slay the killer,” he said feigning a sword fight.
Xanith shook her head. “Just yesterday you wanted to get a glimpse of the mysterious porcelain skinned woman.”
“I still do. We have to travel through the Hillshire forest on our way to finding the sword. We can hit two birds with one stone.”
“I hear she shuns the sun,” Chartreuse added. “And she’s misanthropic too.”
Wilhelm scrunched up his face.
“She hates people,” Xanith explained.
“We should head to the town square and try to win some funds for our quest,” he said.
The girls rolled their eyes.
The town square was located in the center of Pleasant Hills. All forms of commerce and entertainment happened in the square. Everywhere someone was selling something. “Get your alligator on a stick. Taste like chicken,” a robust man yelled through the throng of people.
“Funny, how everything tastes like chicken,” Xanith said as she made her way pass the alligator seller.
“Would you like a satin shawl?” a hump back woman asked the girls.
“They are very pretty.” Chartreuse reached out a hand to touch the fabric.
“No, thanks,’ Xanith said.
“These shawls come from India,” she said, holding them toward their faces.
“Sorry honey, we’re here to make some money not spend it,” Wilhelm said to the woman.

Synopsis

Today's post will be a synopsis of my manuscript. I got the idea from my friend Sherrie. It's just a rough summary of the main points in the story. It's entitled QuestSeekers. Here's the rundown:

The day begins in Pleasant Hills as three villagers Xanith, Chartreuse and Wilhelm enter the Town Square where they anger a giantess. Meanwhile in the Lindor kingdom preparations are underway for Princess Trulie’s birthday ball. When she throws a tantrum her brother, Prince Emmon flees the castle grounds. He soon meets the three villagers on their way to the Hillshire Forest. Prince Emmon joins them in the forest where they meet the porcelain skin woman, Dia, who drugs them and leaves them as food for her wolves. The wolves scatter when the village elder, Wessley and his staff enter the fray. The old man takes one look at Prince Emmon and tells him someone near him will die. The night ends with the murder of King Aquarius.
Prince Emmon witnesses his step-mother murder his father. But it is he that is accused as Queen Thessily screams regicide. Prince Emmon flees the castle grounds. He seeks help from the three villagers he met earlier. Wilhelm is reluctant to help the prince until the Lindor knights burn parts of the Town Square. Now it’s personal. They evade the knights by heading to the outskirts of the village.
On the outskirts of the village they come across the home of the village elder, Wessley. Prince Emmon tells him how the queen murdered his father. And how he’s the one taking the blame. The village elder tells them about the truth stone that lies in the fountain of truth. “It can reveal any truth asked of it,“ the old man says. But it’s well guarded. He tells them they will find their clue from Lady Kelendria in the land of Misnor, home of the giants. The dangerous quest for truth begins.
Wilhelm, Xanith and Chartreuse find out Lady Kelendria is the giantess from the Town Square. And she’s mad as hell. Pursued by Lindor knights and stomp happy giants they barely escape with their lives on a boat named the Quinta. Unbeknownst to them Queen Thessily is watching them from her third eye.
After escaping the clutches of a boy crazy mermaid Prince Emmon and company land on the island of pygmies but before they can proceed with their quest for the truth stone they have to rescue Wilhelm from the volcano worshipping pygmies. Once away from the pygmies Prince Emmon and company head to the city of Valdaron.
Inside the city of Valdaron Queen Thessily, the court council and the knights await them. Xanith and Chartreuse create a diversion allowing them to flee toward the green mountains of Illera, where the fountain of truth lies.
Prince Emmon and company make it to the fountain of truth. Queen Thessily close at their heels. The guardian of the truth stone allows Prince Emmon to fetch the stone. Queen Thessily kills the guardian with a fireball. The three villagers wrestle with the queen while just as the court council enters the mountain. Queen Thessily tries to lie but Prince Emmon with truth stone in hand asks for the truth to be reveal.
The queen is revealed to be an old hag with years of stolen youth

Writing in Color

The other night sleep prove evasive, so I had the TV on and I serendipitously came across a discussion panel on diversity in children's & young adult books. It was part of the 12th annual Harlem book fair. Listening to the discussion it seems there isn't much diversity in children literature. Around 5,000 books for children are published a year. Out of that number only 83 are written by African-Americans. That's quite a small number. At least two of the authors on the panel (Jerry Craft and Zetta Elliot) had to self-publish their books to break into publishing. Most of the authors talked about the publishing industry having this misconception that books with African-American kids are only for those kids. And there's the presumption that white writers write for everyone.
I believe books just like music have an universal appeal. The Harry Potter series was read by people of all races and ages. It really shouldn't matter rather the protagonist is white or black because books contain themes like sibling rivalry, friendship, growing up that all kids can relate to. Once upon a time every child believed in the
tooth fairy. If there was a story where a black girl wanted to prove the existence of the tooth fairy, couldn't that appeal to every child? As I listen to the discussion it made me think about my 20x rejected manuscript. Often they would say sorry we can't market your story at this time. I wonder if
it is because the protagonist isn't ivory skinned. I would like to hope that isn't the case in 2010. I write in the fantasy genre. I have read several fantasy books and most that contain charactors of color they're usually in secondary roles. I think it's time for a change.

This Road

Traveling down this road
mapless
hapless
useless
compass
left, right
no direction
broken concentration
need some assertion
to take way this emotion
dreams disappearing in the rear view mirror
they are close but I'm no nearer
the future is a blur, can't see no clearer
the laid out destiny
that's before me
as I travel down this road.

The Saffron Moon Project

Well, it's been a long while since I blogged. It's not like I have a bunch of readers waiting to read my words. I'm currently working on a middle-grade manuscript. Well I've only written the first chapter. I'm not quite sure what direction I'm going with it. It's called the Fantasy Life of Saffron Moon it's a coming of age story with hints of magical realism. At first it was going to be about a lonely girl with a crowded imagination, but then...I decided to make it a bit more fantastical. So Saffron Moon is a lonely girl with two different colored eyes. And she can see hidden truths with her right eye.
So the first hidden truth she sees with her eye is a fellow classmate's home life isn't so sweet. So Saffron is faced with keeping quiet or trying to find a way to help. Along the way she'll deal with dodging gym class, a rival student, unrequited crush and a bully of a big sister. I suppose it sounds ok. The Fantasy Life of Saffron Moon, her eyes sees your truth. I might change the title. Maybe to Saffron Moon.

Hard

Life is hard. Finding love isn't easy. You can be patient as a rock but frustration crumbles your resolve. Staring at blank pages trying to write a book with a catchy hook. In my waking dream I'm already there, a publishing phenom. But writing is hard. Getting published isn't easy. True love is more difficult. Everyone has a story to tell. Will you listen to mine?Like that rock of a mountain I will not be moved. Dreaming is easy. But making them real is hard. In my mind I hear that Journey song, "Don't stop believing" because I must continue to believe and never give up, eventhough it's hard.

Thoughts

My thoughts run like wild stallions
when it comes to you
free flowing, free falling
I'm sure I never cross your mind
like a ship on the ocean
one-sided
forced hellos
and wry smiles
are all I get
I must depart from this reverie
and empty my thoughts of you