I am always amazed at the evolution of any story I write. The more I follow the characters around, the more I begin to understand their world, their hearts. This place is a bleak one, I knew that from the start. I have been reading about child labor, witch trials, faeries, folk tales, and the history of segregation in many cultures, recent and ancient. So....
Here is the first page of the book as of this morning.
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Chapter One
The night-walkers
only come when the moon is a thin, curved slit of cold light. They wear black robes and each one carries a sleeping child. Sometimes there are three or
four night-walkers. Sometimes there are ten or twenty. Each child is left to wake up on the
riverbank below the Old City.
They don’t know where they are.
They don’t
know who they are.
They can’t
remember where they came from or anything else.
I couldn't.
No one ever
can.
A few of
them will sit and stare at their own bare feet long enough to starve. Every
year, some wander into the river, and let the water bury them somewhere far downstream.
But most of them stop crying and start looking for food when the sun comes up.
Almost everyone
helps them at first.
We all know
how hard it is.
But there are
as many hungry children in the Old City as there are pigeons, crows, mice, rats
and ants. And there is never enough food for all of us. Never.
I don't use plot charts, but if I did, they would look like this:
2 comments:
Sounds amazing! And plot charts, good call. I aspire to use them, but never get around to it. Do you have another system you prefer? How do you keep track of all of the twists and turns??
Oooh, this gave me the chills. Love it! Now I want to read more. And I like your image for a plot chart. That's what they feel like to me.
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