Just For Fun: Excerpts You're Proud Of...

Yeshanu · Nov 2, 2008

Or maybe not so proud of. Post 'em here. No critique asked for or expected, but after reading the first lines, I'm interested to read bits and pieces of other people's novels. Not whole chunks, mind you, but just enough to keep me diverted from the fact that not every word I write is a gem of brilliance.

So here goes:

I pulled my viola out of its case. Unlike Drew's, it was already in tune. It never got out of tune, at least as far as I could tell. Other people disagreed with me about this on occasion (actually, on many occasions, for example, just about every time I play a note), but to my ears it sounds fine. I sat down beside Fran and pulled out the music for the evening. We'd start with Richard Strauss' "Thus Spake Zarathustra," which ignorant plebes know only as the theme song to 2001: A Space Odyssey. The mayor was supposed to conduct the piece. Since the mayor had never in her life conducted anything more complicated than a city council meeting (and we know how well those go), our real conductor had got us to the point where we could play the piece without any conductor at all. I didn't have the heart to tell him that normally the only ones who paid any attention to him were the first desk violins and cellos, because a) they were the only ones (besides the first desk violas and second violins) who could see him (him being only five foot one in high heels) and b) the rest of us players were so engrossed in reading the individual notes on the page that the second we looked up to watch for his beat, we lost our place in the music.

Shady Lane · Nov 2, 2008

I have excerpts in my sig at all times

Yeshanu · Nov 2, 2008

Shady Lane said:
I have excerpts in my sig at all times

And I've been reading.

Flu · Nov 2, 2008

I have no excerpts I'm particularly proud of yet, heheh. (I did do the Flash Fiction Challenge earlier as part of my NaNo, though.)

Karen Duvall · Nov 2, 2008

From the third chapter of Mystic Taxi:

The heavy four-poster bed creaked as he swung his legs over the side and he felt around with his toes for his slippers. The wood floor was cold as cement. He shivered. "I need some heat here. What are you trying to do, freeze me to death?"

A large copper disk the size of Mystic's hubcaps rose up on spindly metal legs and crab walked closer to Henry. He snapped his fingers and it skittered faster, stopping a foot away. The rim began to glow red and Henry moaned with satisfaction as welcome heat flowed around his icy feet. "Much better. You know, I think you're probably the best invention Vernon's come up with yet."

The disk tapped one metal leg on the floor two times, which meant "thanks" in Imp-speak. Also Snit-speak, for that matter. The lesser demons had a limited vocabulary.

Tasmin21 · Nov 3, 2008

Proud of this, just because I totally didn't realize this was how my magic system worked, until I wrote it.

“Thank you, Mr. Warner. I think I’ll do that.” He transferred his staff to his left hand to shake Anderson’s. “Mr. Anderson, I’m Caleb Marcus, the new Peacemaker for the territory. I’m very glad your family wasn’t harmed.”

“Thank you, sir. So am I.” Power flickered between the two men where their hands touched. Anderson’s fear was augmenting what would normally be a mediocre ability at best into something spiky and unpredictable. Spurred by the man’s high emotional state, it was nearing dangerously overloaded levels. Anderson would have no idea now to control that much power.

Caleb narrowed his eyes in concentration, feeding back along the channels to smooth the jagged edges in the other man’s power, bleeding off the excess energy into Caleb’s own body. The last thing they needed was the homesteader exploding out of sheer nerves.

Tension went out of the other man’s shoulders, and he gulped air like he’d been running for miles. His grip tightened on Caleb’s, squeezing hard. “Thank you,” he whispered, glancing toward his wife and children. “I don’t know how much longer I could have held on. The children are in the same state, and I couldn’t…”

The Peacemaker nodded, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s all right. That’s why I have Ernst.”

The jackalope flicked a glance toward Caleb, never stopping his chirpy little purr. The sparks of bled-off power were visible at the ends of his fur, dissipating in tiny snaps of static electricity. The longer the children stroked his silky coat, the calmer they became.

dclary · Nov 3, 2008

On the discussion of Ogres...

The topic of ogres came up, and our naive priestess has stated that she can't believe her champion had fought against such monsters. He told her that being an ogre isn't what makes one a monster...

“There is a fire burning inside every man,” Kreegan said. “Every ogre, every giant, every Nan.”

“Definitely every Nan,” John said, trying to lighten the ambience. Kreegan’s sharp glance forced him back to his imaginary problem with his meal.

“Some men go their entire lives, never aware of the fire within. They live good lives, raise good families, grow old and die, good men,” he explained. “Others can summon the flame at times of peril. They draw on it, rely on it, and it sustains them through any danger.”

Rowlette leaned forward, fascinated. A thrill like terror ran through her, and she shivered, but she could not say why,

“But some men, they can’t control the fire. It always burns, always rages. It destroys everything, and if it burns enough, it passes outside that man. His actions are driven by the fire, his thoughts are fixed on it. He will kill without remorse. He will destroy wantonly. He is beyond redemption. This man is a monster.” Kreegan leaned forward, as though he were trying to purge the memory of monsters from his mind in the comforting heat of the campfire.

“And you?” Rowlette asked. “Which man are you?”

Kreegan stood up, and scowled at her. “Are you still alive?”

She nodded “yes.”

“Then I guess we don’t know yet. Do we?” Kreegan stalked off, and spoke no more that night.

dclary · Nov 3, 2008

Tasmin21 said:
Proud of this, just because I totally didn't realize this was how my magic system worked, until I wrote it.

This excerpt is FANTASTIC. I once had a story where a robot had a cyborg-chicken-missile-defense system (essentially a rooster that fired missiles out its ass). Your power-absorbing jackalope reminds me of that chicken.

And what a fantastic calling: peacekeeper... his job is to help -- literally! -- diffuse emotionally charged situations.

Keep writing!!!!

dpaterso · Nov 3, 2008

I haven't got any excerpts I'm proud of!

-Derek

Deccydiva · Nov 3, 2008

dpaterso said:
I haven't got any excerpts I'm proud of!

-Derek

You're not alone Derek! :LilLove:

I'm posting an excerpt regardless, though!

(searches desparately for something fit for a family audience)

She splashed cold water onto her glowing face, took a few deep breaths then shivered slightly as a small after tremor danced through her. She drew the dressing gown around herself and wandered into the bedroom to rummage around for something sloppy and comfortable. Dragging on an old velour tracksuit that never saw the light of day outside the house, she pulled the towel off her hair and set about drying it, brushing it firmly so it dried straight. Looking critically at her reflection in the tall mirror, she wondered if Richard might read something in her face, regardless of how well she could act. Stripped of all makeup her face looked younger, more innocent… no, Richard would never guess, as long as she was careful she should be safe. Giving her hair a final brush she left the bedroom, clicking off the light then she made her way downstairs to join her husband.

cklayne · Nov 3, 2008

“I think, yeah, this is it,” he said, realizing that the numbers in his hand matched the numbers on the mailbox in front of him. As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew that he had to be wrong. The church and the cemetery attached to it, that they found themselves in front of, had been abandoned for years. The building itself wasn’t in horrible shape. It’s windows had been broken, probably by kids who were looking for some fun, but otherwise it appeared to be in decent shape. The cemetery was another story. Most of the headstones had long since been knocked over. The weeds looked more like a jungle than a yard, and Sooner couldn’t remember the last time the city had mowed this piece of property. At the far end, a mausoleum stood, crumbling and cracked, like a shepherd tending over its broken flock. The whole place creeped Sooner out.

twnkltoz · Nov 3, 2008

I'm always up for the chance to make people read stuff I wrote! Here is an excerpt from Bubba to the Rescue, a sequel to Bubba Goes National. Lucky and Fred are horses.

By the time they untied and mounted their horses, the fire had reached the barn. Between the hay stacked inside and the dry old wood, it would not be long before it was completely engulfed in flames. The air around them was thick with smoke now, and Leslie’s throat burned from her efforts. She tried to put her discomfort out of her mind so she could concentrate on getting through the woods and back home before the fire reached them. She and Alex kicked their mounts into a gallop and headed back toward Green Meadow.

While they ran, Leslie could hear the horses calling frantically in the arena behind her. “Do you think they’ll be OK?” She shouted to Alex.

“It’s far enough from the barn that they won’t be in danger there, and since there’s no dry grass around it, they should be fine,” he yelled. Leslie took her eyes off the trail to look at his face. It was covered in grime and his brows were furrowed in worry. She imagined her own face looked much like his. “Besides, we can’t worry about them anymore, Leslie. We have to get home and make sure Green Meadow is OK. If we wait any longer, we could be trapped in the burning woods.”

Leslie’s stomach lurched; she knew he was right. She looked back over her shoulder and could see flashes of orange through the trees. She pushed Lucky to go even faster, although his breathing was labored and his neck was soaked with sweat and covered in froth where the reins rubbed it. “Lucky, I’m so sorry, but we have to keep going,” she breathed into his mane. “I promise, if you just get us home, you can have a nice, long rest.” Silently, she prayed to God to get them home safely. While they ran, Leslie could hear the fire coming closer and closer.

They were almost to the property line for Green Meadow when they heard a crashing in the underbrush to their left and Lucky and Fred jumped to the side, stopping to whirl and face the brush and nearly unseating their riders. Leslie clung to Lucky’s mane and managed to hang on. She looked up, and a horse leaped out of the bushes. Its eyes and nostrils were large and veins stood out on its neck.

Lucky snorted, his eyes large as he stared at the strange horse. Leslie could feel him trembling beneath her, so she stroked his neck and told him, “You’re OK, Lucky. It’s just a horse.” Her voice sounded shaky and strained to her own ears.

“Whose horse is that?” Alex asked. His voice sounded as shaky as hers.

Leslie did not have time to answer, because a tree branch fell behind them in a shower of sparks. Beneath her, Lucky screamed and bolted forward.

Alpha Echo · Nov 3, 2008

Ooooh, okay! Here goes. I think I posted a sentence or two in another thread, but what the heck:

They fell asleep together holding hands. When they awoke, they jumped into the lake to cool off. Then, dripping with water and soaked in passion, they made love for the first time. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, dancing golden shadows across their naked bodies. By the time night fell and bathed them in darkness, they had memorized every curve, every freckle, every muscle in a lazy mist of love and lust.

The moon rose and the stars glimmered brightly, their sparkling reflections like strands of silver in Cadan’s eyes, against his skin, and tangled in his hair. He took her left hand, kissed her ring finger, and asked her to marry him. In his arms, Avery didn’t recognize her own cries. But she nodded through her tears, and in his enthusiasm, he carved the words, “She said yes!” into the strong, oak tree.

Reluctantly, Avery opened her eyes, and the shreds of her past faded into the swirling darkness. Her cheeks were wet, and the heat from Cadan’s memory froze in the winter air.

Every step in her life was a shuffle into uncertainty. She may not be thrilled with her life, but she knew what was coming next. She knew where she would be the next day, the next week, the next month, and Adriana had a good home and opportunities Avery never could have offered on her own. Now she was lost. What tomorrow held was a possibly life-threatening mystery.

But whatever reasons she may give herself to say no, with Cadan, the only word she’d ever known was yes.

FinbarReilly · Nov 3, 2008

Wish I could do this! But I'm afraid that what I'd post would be against TOS! (I'm writing an erotic novel, you see...)

FR

Deccydiva · Nov 3, 2008

FinbarReilly said:
Wish I could do this! But I'm afraid that what I'd post would be against TOS! (I'm writing an erotic novel, you see...)

FR

Mine was not supposed to be, but it's heading that way rapidly! :Ssh:

dclary · Nov 3, 2008

Pervs!!!!

Gogirl · Nov 3, 2008

Tra la la la... here goes my mess:

Zeke comes around to my side of the car and says hello, like I’m suddenly someone special. He’s nice enough. Innocent-cute with black hair, chocolate eyes and a great smile. Once I would have been blown away, melting in his presence. Today, I’m stone cold.
I hear Nick talking.
“Hey, Amelia.”
Ryan stares at me. “You two know each other?”
“It’s not like that,” I say. “Not exactly.”
Nick cocks his head. “We met the other day. But I feel like I’ve known Amelia for a long time.”
Ryan’s eyes are sharp with questions. She stiffens. “I see.”
Gritting my teeth, I look away from her. I know she’s thinking that we’ve been driving past Zeke’s house all day, hoping to bump into Nick Koslow, and not once did I mention knowing him.
But I don’t know him.
He’s a mystery to me, yet now I look like a liar, and I know Ryan’s thinking a lousy friend.
How do I get into myself into these messes?

Deccydiva · Nov 3, 2008

dclary said:
Pervs!!!!

Maybe... but I expect we're enjoying our NaNo experience more than most!

Yeshanu · Nov 3, 2008

Deccydiva said:
Maybe... but I expect we're enjoying our NaNo experience more than most!

Really?

My latest excerpt (sorry about the length):

So where were we anyhow? At first, the place seemed to be a formless void, mist tendrils creeping around us. But the mist slowly cleared away, leaving us in a cavernous hall. There was a Harvey's over to the right, open, but with no customers or even cashiers that I could see. To the front, a stairway led down into who knows where. To our left, a large set of double doors, then going forward, a row of ticket counters. I didn't need to look to know that behind me, there was an archway leading to another large, cavernous hallway. I knew this place, very well indeed.

An old man with a long, sweeping white beard and really far-out clothes approached us. I mean, really far out, even for Toronto, and even seeing him with the eyes of a musician. He had a little cap of some sort, purple with gold embroidery. He had long purple robes that matched the hat, and his beard was contained at the half-way point by a gold, braided cord. He peered at us from behind half-moon spectacles with his bright blue eyes!

"Dumbledore!" Drew exclaimed happily.

"Yes, I believe that is my name," the elderly eccentric said with a smile. "You seem to be in need of some assistance."

"Pardon me, Professor," I said politely, determined not to let Drew take the leadership in this situation. "Just a few minutes ago, we were in a church basement, practicing for our concert tomorrow, and now we're here. Have you any idea how that might have happened?"

"Well," he said, stroking his beard. "It would seem to me that something has happened that might have killed you all."

"What?" we exclaimed in unison. I might point out with some pride that this was perhaps the first time in the history of the world that any viola section anywhere has done something so completely in together.

"I did say 'might' have killed you all," he continued. "But it seems that Whoever It Is has failed in his or her designs. You're not alive, yet not really dead, either."

"But how do we get back to the church where we're rehearsing?" I asked. "We have a concert to play, dead or alive!"

"Where do you think we are?" Professor Dumbledore asked us.

"Um, it looks like Union Station," I said, "except there's nobody but us here. Kind of creepy, if you ask me."

"And how would you get to the church from here?" he asked, as if speaking to small children or idiots.

Well, duh! Maybe he was. "Come on, everyone! Down to the subway, and back to the church!"

"I can't use the subway!" the mayor wailed. "I just can't! What if I'm seen! I have an image to protect, you know, as a waster of taxpayer's hard earned money!"

We three ignored her. Glenda took the mayor's hand and pulled her towards the stairs.

It was creepy. McDonald's, Country Time Donuts, Dairy Queen -- all the usual shops and services were present, but there was no one running them, no passengers, no security guards, no one at all in the station. No beggars at the doorway, looking for some spare change. No vendor running the hot dog cart in the alley between the train station and the subway station. No ticket collector at the toll booth. We just waltzed right in. Well, we had to jump the stiles, and the mayor lost one heel off of her high heeled shoes, but no one stopped us.

Worse than the lack of people was the cleanliness of the station. It wasn't that there was a lack of litter on the ground. The whole place was clean, sparkly clean from top to bottom. No calcified remains of spilled soft drinks, no encrusted mustard and ketchup on the hot dog cart, even the cracks in the pavement weren't there. The place looked...

New. It looked new, instead of decades old, decades that had seen more people pass through here than any other train station in Canada. I began to wonder if there would actually be any train for us to take. Not that it mattered -- Yonge and Bloor was a fair hike, but under the circumstances, I'd say a half hour hike was a small price to pay in order to get back to where we needed to be.

I needn't have worried. We'd waited less than a minute before the inrush of air told me that a train was coming. The rumble of the approaching train followed, and soon enough, the silver rocket screeched to a halt in the station. The doors opened and we piled in. The doors closed and we were off!

"Middle Earth," a pleasant female voice said over the intercom. "Next stop, Middle Earth!"

Sassee · Nov 3, 2008

Nikki Swank, meet Davey Jones.

"There's more to this case than I told you in the office."

Nikki gave him a sideways glance and waited for him to continue. It was an abrupt subject change, but not unwelcome. She'd listen to him long enough to hear this.

"I don't know the exact person the locket was sold to, but I do know the group. I traced the trail that far only to discover it was stolen from them. That's where I need your help. You come highly recommended for your investigative abilities, and I figure if anyone could find the thing, you could." He stopped to check her reaction.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Jones. Continue."

"Here's the thing. I never actually owned that locket."

Nikki narrowed her eyes.

"It's a valuable 'ugly little trinket.' I need it. I need it to be out of their hands. The locket is dangerous and it must be found."

"The locket isn't yours?"

"Not right now it's not."

"Then why am I on a plane en route to Denver?"

"I told you, the locket needs to be out of their hands. I have to find it."

"Davey Jones is after a little treasure. Imagine that." Nikki took a long swig of her Scotch and brushed the hair out of her face so she could look him in the eye. "Listen, Davey, I can find this locket for you. That's not a problem. But I can't be an accessory, and I won't help you find this locket if it means you'll resort to theft."

"How about trickery?"

"Depends on the trickery and how much you're paying me to do it. But I will not be a thief."

"You don't consider your high fees theft?"

"I didn't think you would accept those fees."

"They're still pretty high for the job."

"You're still paying them, aren't you?"

"That, Miss Swank," he said, taking the glass of Scotch, "is an example of trickery turned theft. You're already doing it. Why not continue what you're already doing and earn more money while you're at it?"

Nikki sneered. "What did you have in mind?"

David "Davey" Jones smiled.

dclary · Nov 3, 2008

Deccydiva said:
Maybe... but I expect we're enjoying our NaNo experience more than most!

I'm not complaining... I'm jealous!!!

FinbarReilly · Nov 3, 2008

dclary said:
Pervs!!!!

And normally I'm so conservative....Here's the first section, if it makes you feel any better:

And it all started so innocently...

The ten-year old boy was running full-tilt through the woods. Graeme ran through the bushes, giggling like a maniac as he dodged low-hanging branches and pushed through brushes. In mere moments he would break through to the river, hopefully ahead of that idiot Drake.

His black hair almost straight thanks to the sweat, he tripped, almost falling out of the woods and onto the lawn next to the river. He quickly shucked his clothes (pausing only to make sure his glasses were lain carefully on his clothes) and dove in. The splash sent ducks skyward as he hit the cold murky water.

As Graeme came up, someone splashed him. Graeme quickly turned, and Drake just splashed harder. Graeme disappeared under the water, grabbed Drake by the legs, and stood up. Drake flew, landing in a huge splash. Drake swam over to Graeme, and the two wrestled, some above but mostly below the water.

A half hour later, and the boys left the water and dried off. As they lay in the pre-dinner sun, Graeme turned to Drake, his green eyes bright with anger.

“You cheated! You had Ralph ask me that stupid question about Mars just to slow me down!”

Drake relaxed, his eyes like ice. “Yep. I thought the surprise would be worth it.” He grinned as Graeme's eyes became slits. He almost laughed as Graeme threw his head back in disgust.

Graeme started getting dressed. “One of these days I'm going to get you good, Drake.”

“That'll be the day.”

In minutes they were running back to the school dorm.

See? That wasn't so bad, was it?

FR

Captain Howdy · Nov 3, 2008

“As I have said, I do not eaves drop on my master, and so I went about my business. But it was not five minutes later that there came a shout, and then a cry which was most undoubtedly my master’s last call for help, and then a terrible crash. Several of the staff all shouted my name at once and we all came running into the foyer. The door to the drawing room was locked, but I knocked loudly and quickly, shouting his name over and over ‘Monsieur de la Croix, are you all right?’ but there was no reply from within. When I put my ear to the door the room indeed appeared terribly silent. I don’t carry keys to the house on my person, so I summoned Mrs. Adler, the housekeeper, who unlocked the door for us –” Jeffries voice choked and he broke off with a sob. “And that was when we found him. Mrs. Adler screamed, loud enough to wake the dead, if you will pardon the expression, and of course it didn’t work. There was so much blood he couldn’t possibly have lived to hear her scream.”

Annalaise duChat · Nov 3, 2008

I kind of like this passage:

Removing the mug from the microwave and he leaned against the counter and sipped it, like caffeine addict with that first cup of the morning. He relished it. It was almost as if he could feel himself rejuvenating with each taste. Thank God for Micki and her mysterious doctor friend.

Kieron had only the scent of the man who according to Micki, had saved his life. He was nothing more that a shadowy shape emerging from a drug induced stupor. Micki would not reveal his name. She believed she was protecting him. If Kieron truly wanted to know, he could have the information very little effort. Micki’s mind was like an open book to him when chose to read it. He’d leave it alone for now; he’d allow this benefactor his anonymity. But if the man ever opened his mouth about what he’d seen…there would be no choice.

Kieron sipped his mug again. The blood thirst was beginning to abate slightly. A little calmer, he took stock of his condition. Today his vision was a little clearer than it had been yesterday. The pain that had plagued him in his face, arms and chest was more manageable as well. He still had very little sensation and control in his right hand. That concerned him. He had always healed completely from his injuries in the past, but he had never been exposed but ultraviolet light before. Nothing in his experience had ever caused that much damage that quickly. An involuntary shudder at the memory, left him sweating and gripping the counter just to stay upright.

The half empty mug slipped from his hand, shattering on the kitchen floor with a spray of red. “Damn it,” Kieron swore, slamming his fist into the counter top. He stood trembling with emotions that bottled up since that fateful night, demanded release. “No!” He fought for control.

Monica. Cait. They were so different yet they were the same. Never would he allow a woman to get that close to him again. He forced the thought of her away until there was nothing left but a dull empty ache where the memory had been.

Fists clenched he pushed away from the counter determined to clean up the mess he’d made before Micki got home. He knelt to pick up the broken pieces of ceramic before realizing what an attempt in futility it was. “I’m nothing but a damn helpless cripple,” he whined in frustration. He slumped against the counter pulling his knees up to his chest. Self-pity. That he could do. That he was good at. What a mess his life had become in just a few short weeks.

cklayne · Nov 4, 2008

I've really enjoyed reading these excerpts! There were quite a few that I'd love to see more of! Great job everyone.

Just For Fun: Excerpts You're Proud Of...

Elf Queen

my name is hannah

Elf Queen

Chalice the Hatchet Knight

They will come from below...

Unabashed Mercenary

Unabashed Mercenary

Also in our Discord and IRC chat channels

Back from the dead

I should be writing.

Back from the dead

Unabashed Mercenary

Back from the dead

Elf Queen

Momma Wolf

Unabashed Mercenary

closer + prettier than ever

She's Ba-aack