Anyway, I'm going to keep writing it and experiment with a few things. I also re-read most of Effulgent Corruption (what I wrote before) and I have some ideas on how to change it. Actually a lot of ideas. We'll see.
Here's a bit I wrote today. I haven't written since October, so it might not be exactly...pristine.
Red Graphite was a lovely town. Was being the key word. It had welcomed us warmly, as Devent, Rosemary, and I had poised ourselves as wandering storytellers and minstrels. I’d sung a song while Rosemary played on a wooden recorder she’d stolen from the last town that had hidden us. Devent, despite grumbling, had entertained young and old alike with dashing stories of wandering heroes and devious monsters, scaring a few children so badly they had to be put to bed early. A few local girls, possessing both a simple beauty and weakness for alcohol, had invited Devent to stay back at their houses rather than the inn. His initial agreement earned him a scowl from Rosemary, and his gleeful acceptance turned instead to a sorrowful decline. I admit I had been jealous of Devent, so easily getting invited to bed by a veritable score of pretty young women.
Several of their bodies lay in front of the burning inn, golden hair matted and splashed with blood and ash. I thought I recognized one in particular – she’d been especially insistent after a third pint – though it was hard to tell with her face so mangled. I had to look away, tears in my eyes as I sought something less painful.
- Chapter 1: Not the Worst Birthday