For about six months to a year now, I have been writing a novel. And yes, a full on novel–probably, actually definitely not, as big as the ones George R.R. Martin writes. But nevertheless, a novel. It is a fantasy and I would love to tell you more but the thing is, its a secret. As far as I know, no one has done my idea before. And I am honestly quite proud of myself for writing something original. I can however tell you that it includes the depths of water.
Anyways, I thought today I would share the first page with you. I am in my final stages of editing and hope to send it to one of the many wonderful publishing companies as a pitch to see what they think. Hopefully that will happen by the end of this year or by next. Due to it being grade 12 this year, who knows what will happen. I guess that is what holidays are for. 🙂 (Supposably)
The first page of my current W.I.P.: Beneath The Surface. Enjoy 🙂
Once upon a time, there was a boy who was known for having a slightly bad temper… and he, was me. The thing was, it wasn’t just a bad temper; the fact was, when it came, it was an ugly dragon’s head, ready to plough into me. It didn’t just effect my emotions, it affected my whole entire body, shutting down my brain and overriding my limbs until it wasn’t me who was controlling my actions or my thoughts, it was the anger itself. Not so much of a happy fairy tale, huh?
So, let’s begin again…
My name was Regan Bloom and I was a seventeen year old who was currently struggling to finish his last year of high school. I honestly didn’t really care much for school, my mother didn’t pressure me into trying my hardest and she didn’t even bother to ask me how school was. So, I guess I fell into a rocky cavern where I was constantly getting into trouble, falling asleep during class and just not paying attention whenever I was awake. I also didn’t have many friends or many people that liked me, and that probably didn’t help my motivation for doing my best either.
In fact, my life was pretty dull and un-extraordinary in the first place. Most of the time, I sat alone—in classes, at lunch, on the bus, at home. However, the more I came to think about it, I didn’t really mind. I was one of those people who preferred the silent, solitude moments. I never was one that was up for crazy nights, drinking alcohol, singing Disney melodies from the top of their lungs… Unlike most teenagers my age, I preferred being at home, my thumbs twiddling with the remote to my very old, quintuplet-hand XBOX. Although, most of the time, I just got frustrated with it because it was so slow and jumpy most of the time. I blame all of my character deaths on the faultiness of my remote.
My mother was practically non-existent. From a very young age, I had learnt to care for myself—cook, clean, buy groceries for myself. The only times my mother did make an appearance for more than a few minutes was on my birthday. However, I will explain the reason a little bit later on.