Well, instead of actually writing, which is what I should have been doing, I made my NaNo Novel a trailer.
It was a lot of fun, so I figure it was worth getting a little behind on my word count to finish up. Unfortunately, I have no way of posting it to this blog, but I was able to post it to my tumblr, and
here is a link for it! Feel free to watch it and tell me what you think!
My family loves it, and my mom is pestering me to let her read the book as soon as December 1st gets here. I have agreed to this only because I need someone to edit it for me.
My current word count is 24,329, and it should be at least 26,672, but I have a quiet house today, so I'll be working ahead, hopefully enough that I won't have to write so much during the Thanksgiving holiday, as we're having a lot of company over!
Would anyone care for an excerpt to go with their trailer? Note that 'eejit' is the Irish pronunciation of 'idiot'. Enjoy!
Finally,
it was time for Padraig to be on his way. He hung the pink/red plaid duffel
over his right shoulder and held his suitcase in his left hand. That was all he
had, and, hopefully, all he’d need. The suitcase was heavy. His back pocket
seemed even heavier, holding that bleedin’ Visa card with who-knew-how-much money
just waiting for him to spend all over Europe.
Gosh,
his back hurt.
He
stood in front of his family’s tiny white cottage with its gray roof,
surrounded by meadows where the ship grazed. He just stood there, waiting to
start off down the road.
He
looked at his family, who were eagerly taking pictures of him and giving
last-minute advice. Ruari finally remembered to say, “Get me something
everywhere you go! It doesn’t matter what, just get me something, as long as its not really made in China! Promise me!”
Padraig
sighed. “I promise Ruari.” He set his duffel and suitcase down, and opened his
arms up. “Come here,”
Ruari
took and running start and tackled him, which was surprisingly painful
considering she only weighed about thirty-six kilograms. He held his baby
sister tight, his heart pounding painfully inside his chest. He was going to
miss the little devil so much. She talked his ear off and made him promise all
sorts of ridiculous things, but he didn’t mind. He even forgave her for sitting
on him at 7:30 in the morning.
Next
he hugged his dad one more time, though they said nothing to each other.
Then
he hugged his mother tight, nodded at everything she said, and assured her he’d
be better when he got home. Better.
Maybe that was a promise he could actually keep.
Finally,
he opened his arms up and smiled at Deirdre, but she just looked at him, her
eyes filled with anger and worry. “Bye, Porry,” she said.
“Didi,”
he said. “Don’t I get a hug?”
Reluctantly,
she went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Eejit baby brother. You
better be happy when you come home. I miss the happy Porry,”
“I’ll try,” he said. She tried to pull away, and he hugged her tighter.
“Deirdre,” he whispered. “Are you really okay?”
Deirdre
shook her head. “No. But you’re leaving. It’s not your problem, Padraig. Go and
get better. Go.”
She
pushed him gently but firmly away and walked back into the house.
Padraig
watched her go, than saluted weakly to his parents and Ruari. Then he picked up
his bags and turned his back on Slieve Bloom. He walked quickly, listening to
Aoifa call out after him and Ruari singing him The Parting Glass, but he didn’t look back once. He didn’t look
back, because he knew if he did, he would start crying and he might never stop.
He hadn’t cried in five years and he didn’t want to ever do it again.
He
had a three day walk ahead of him and a tight schedule, and his back was
killing him.
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