November 1st (my birthday) is also the start of each year’s National Novel Writing Month, fondly known as NaNoWriMo.
In NaNoWriMo 2016, I launched my fantasy novel, The Dire Deeds of the Guild of Ornamental Hermits, and continued to write all year. In NaNoWriMo 2017, I continued work on Dire Deeds and then revised and completed it this last summer. Now in NaNoWriMo 2018, I have officially begun work on the second book in this proposed fantasy trilogy–The Witching Work of the Guild of Ornamental Hermits.
I’m off to a good start! By the end of November 3rd, I had over 8,000 words logged in to my NaNoWriMo author page. Here’s just a little snippet of what I wrote yesterday. It introduces the character of Lucky LaFey, who promises to be a wonderfully dynamic element in this new book. (I’ll also be introducing a new arch-villain known as The Big Dipper, but not in this snippet.)
Excerpt from Chapter Two:
To hear Lucky tell it, he’d spent a chunk of time hobnobbing with the poshest Sonoma county growers (grapes, not cannabis) and had known Ginger’s parents as well as Ginger. He’d lived on this property as a sort of unofficial caretaker, off and on, ever since their death.
“Why haven’t we seen you before now?” Tomma asked.
“Been away,” Lucky said tersely, through a mouthful of cinnamon-spiced dough.
“Do the Elves know about you?” Roz wanted to know.
“Well of course. I’m rather well-known,” Lucky admitted. He was now wearing a miniature donut on the ring finger of each hand, admiring the look of them.
Oyster rolled his eyes impatiently. Getting the story out of Lucky seemed to be a series of two to seven-word phrases punctuated by sounds of chewing. “She means, do the Elves know about you living here?”
“Ah…” Lucky tried (unsuccessfully) to look disarming and innocent. “…No.”
Tomma, who’d been staring at Lucky with blatant fascination, then blurted out, “We’ve got the exact same hair color!” Ze then looked embarrassed. We all laughed but it was true.
“Yes, we do.” Lucky admitted. “Also the same taste in nail polish.” He pointed at Tomma’s toenails.
“You, me, and every drag queen within a hundred mile radius,” Tomma replied flippantly. Then ze looked at me, “You know, this guy may be shady, but I think I kind of like him.”
“What’s not to like?” Lucky looked hurt—genuinely hurt. It surprised me.
Massive Max spoke for the first time. He’d been hanging back, leaning against the refrigerator, watching Lucky closely. “Dude, you show up out of nowhere on the first day that the Elves are gone, and tell us this story about living here, and, well, it can sound pretty fishy. Understand?”
“Okay,” Lucky said, “you know that little trailer in the garage? Have you cleaned it out yet?”
“Not yet,” Massive admitted. “It’s locked and we just haven’t gotten around to breaking in. And it looks like a mess in there.”
“Here’s the key,” Lucky said, pulling out a Thor novelty keychain with two keys. He tossed it to Massive. “If you go there now and open the cupboard over the kitchen sink, you’ll find a red mug decorated with a picture of a fox, a box of old breath mints, and the title to the trailer in my name.”
Massive was about to check it out when Oyster stopped him and then addressed Lucky, “You just materialized a bunch of donuts. What’s to say you haven’t just materialized those objects into the trailer?”
Lucky sighed. “How hard it is to be believed! Haven’t you learned any truth-telling spells yet? You could try one of those. I’d gladly submit.”
[End of Chapter Two Excerpt]