Chapter 1.5

Shadow joined the last few stragglers in the queue for the food counter. Most of her companions had already taken their dinner and sat down at the rough wooden benches, chattering amongst themselves. Blessing caught her eye from their usual spot in the far corner, and waved. “What did you get?” he mouthed.

She waved back, and signalled for him to wait. Coming up to the cooking pots, she picked up a deep clay bowl from the stack, and held it out as Cobbles, the under-cook, ladled out a generous portion of stew. His pale blue eyes looked at her inquisitively, contrasting with his raw-skinned face and white-blonde hair. “I hear you got your apprenticeship today. Not going to be one of us, I suppose?”

Shadow laughed. “You know I'd eat all the food before it got anywhere near the table. I'm the new messenger!” She grinned at the young man and carried her steaming bowl carefully between the benches to the space Blessing had saved for her.

Tartan ceased her conversation opposite and stared at Shadow, as did the other children further down the table. “So?” Her sparkling dark eyes fixed curiously on Shadow's face.

She grinned, drawing out the suspense.

“Come on!” Blessing said impatiently.

“At least let me eat dinner first. I'm famished. What is this, anyway? It smells delicious.”

Blessing rolled his eyes. “Bean soup, same as usual, and you know it. Just tell us!” He grabbed the rim of her bowl and dragged it out of reach.

She couldn't hold the excitement in any longer. Besides, her friend had stolen her dinner. “I'm going to be working with Morning. I'm a messenger!”

A congratulatory babble ran along the table. “That's great!”

“I know! Now, give me back my stew.” She snatched the bowl back and began to scoop up mouthfuls of warm, rich vegetables. The animated chatter resumed around her, and she glanced around to see if Morning, her future mentor, was in the dining hall. She could only see the school-children and their teachers, with a few other assorted adults. Most of the adults and apprentices waited until after the children had eaten to get their own food, as the room was small and could only comfortably fit about half of the clan at once. She'd give him enough time to finish working and eat his own dinner, then look for him in his apartment.

It was difficult to concentrate on the games they often played after dinner. Normally Shadow won two out of three wall-races, but Tartan beat her to the top each time they tried, once with Melody coming in second when she'd missed an outcrop and fallen off. After about two hours, she gave up, and, saying goodbye to the other children, hurried through the interweaving passages and up narrow wooden stairs to the messenger's room.

She rapped on the rough wooden door.

“Come in!”

The door creaked slightly as she pushed it open and pulled it to behind her.

“Ah, Shadow, of course. Katja told me to expect you. Why don't we sit down?”

She couldn't see any seating in the small room apart from a low bed half-hidden by a curtain, but Morning passed her and pulled open the door. She followed him outside, and he seated himself on the edge of the unfenced balcony, patting the wood beside him. She joined him, swinging her legs over the drop.

The summer sun was just starting to head towards the horizon, lending a warm mellow tint to the air. The scent of baked dust reached them, and Shadow drew a deep breath, basking in the heat on her skin. It was rare to be in direct sunlight in most areas of the clanship, built as they were in layers upon layers of themselves, as they tried to build an entire city in the space of a small street. Up here the sky was untrammelled, and she could see, through gaps in the buildings, all the way down to ground-level. She even fancied she saw Tartan and Melody chasing through gaps in the walls, and heard echoes of Blessing's shouts urging them on.

Morning smiled, running his hands lazily through his wavy blonde hair. “It's really something, isn't it? You can see nearly everywhere in Westgate from up here. I've always thought, why hide indoors when you could sit out here?” He laughed suddenly. “Once I even tried sleeping out here. It's so peaceful, on warm nights. But then I turned over and nearly fell off. Strictly inside for sleeping, now.”

Shadow looked down. It must have been at least thirty feet to the ground. “That's probably a good idea.”

“Which reminds me,” the young man stood up again, “Your room. We've had it built especially. I know you don't mind heights, so...” He started along the balcony, which she realised now snaked around the corner of his hut. She followed him, stepping gingerly on the fresh raw planks to try to avoid splintering the soles of her feet. A ladder was set into the back wall of Morning's hut, which he gestured for her to climb first. Peering upwards, she saw that the rungs led into the floor of a new room.

As her head entered the space, she looked around. A multicoloured woven woollen rug carpeted the centre of the floor, and a small bed sprawled in the far corner. Someone had already taken her bundle of spare clothing from the dormitory and placed it on the bed for her.

“Well, what do you think?” Morning called up to her.

“It's wonderful!” She clambered the rest of the way up the ladder, and stepped aside as he started to ascend. She gently pulled aside a patterned green curtain, to reveal a washstand, chamberpot, and even a small mirror propped on top of the stand. “All this is really mine?”

“All of it.” Morning laughed at her excitement. “You can hardly stay down there with all the children any more. Besides, it's tiny, even smaller than my room. And it still needs shutters on the window, and we should really fix up some kind of trap-door for the entrance-”

“It's perfect.” Shadow interrupted. She crossed to the window and gasped. “The view's even better than from your balcony – I can see all the way into Greyminster from here!”

He joined her at the opening, and peered over her shoulder. “So you can. You'd better be careful, or I'll get jealous and decide to steal your room instead.” It was a truly spectacular view, with the sun emitting rich russet light which made the town below them glow as though in a furnace. “It's getting late, though, probably too late for me to explain everything I meant to. Meet me downstairs just after dawn. We'll get some breakfast and I'll show you everything tomorrow.”

My chapter numbers won't make much sense, as my plot has numbered sections, which don't exactly correspond to sections of text. Just follow them in order and it should work out ok...

Once again, any comments, corrections or ideas are very welcome indeed.

Prologue and Chapter 1

As promised, here comes the very beginning of my embryonic novel:

Prologue

Distracted by the bustle of the market, the woman failed to notice it until her foot happened to brush against it. The baby, cold and hungry from many hours outside, let out a tired whimper. Katja reached down and gently scooped up the newborn, pulling the thin shawl tighter around its shivering frame.

People hurried past her, laden with baskets of fruit, bread, and grain, chattering as they went. She peered around the corner of the sandstone building at the busy vendors and customers, none of whom paid her any attention.

Retreating back into the cool shade, she peered into the tiny face. “Shadow,” she murmured.

Chapter 1

“Thirty-six years ago, Russell and Katja left the city of Greyminster, taking Rose, who was a baby then, with them. They came here to Westgate, where they started the settlement, and carried on taking in children ever since.” Shadow glanced down at the notes in her hand, knowing they didn't contain the answers she wanted.

Cherry didn't seem to notice. “Well done. Clear and concise, and well presented. You can sit back down now.”

Shadow plopped herself back onto the floor between Blessing and Tartan, as the teacher continued, “For tomorrow, I want you to get into pairs, and think about your favourite areas of the clanship, and tell me why you like them. All except for you, Shadow. The rest of you, off you go to dinner.” She beckoned the eldest girl to her. “You, my dear, are off to see Russell and Katja. I'm afraid this is the last day I'll be teaching you.”

It was difficult for Shadow to stop grinning. She'd been waiting for this for months. It wasn't that she disliked Cherry – on the contrary, the warm, motherly woman was like a beacon of contentment – but she'd got to the point when she felt she was learning nothing. Helping the younger children understand the lessons got boring fast, too.

She gave Cherry a quick hug, and walked as quickly as politeness allowed towards the Founders' House. The warm, rough rooms were deserted, everyone having gone to the kitchens. Reaching the brick-red woollen partition, she drew it aside and poked her head into the apartment.

“Hello! Can I come in?”

The white-haired couple looked up.

“Of course,” Katja nodded.

The girl perched on the edge of the worn, patched third chair, and looked expectantly at the elderly couple. “You asked me to come and see you?”

“Yes, dear child,” Russell replied. “As I'm sure you know, today is the fifteenth year to the day since my wife” - he shot an affectionate smile towards Katja - “since my wife found you. The time has come for you to stop your studies and take a job for yourself.”

“Have you thought about what you'd like to do?” the old woman asked.

Shadow opened her mouth eagerly, then hesitated. “Not – not really, I suppose. Well, I have, but – I don't know.”

Katja smiled. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I have a good memory and I like people, so I thought maybe I could be a teacher. But then I love being outdoors, and moving around. I couldn't just stand around inside all day. But I'm no good at growing plants, so I couldn't be a gardener, and I'm not big and strong like the builders. So... I don't know.” She sighed, and looked up, to find the leaders exchanging a smiling glance. “What? What is it?”

“We might have just the job for you,” Russell said. “How would you like to be a messenger?”

“Like Morning? I'd love to – getting to run around, talk to everyone, even see outside Westgate! But I thought we didn't need more than one.”

“Now that the clan's getting bigger, poor Morning is rushed off his feet at all hours,” he explained. “And the poor boy deserves some time to relax, the same as anyone. So,” the old man smiled, “will you do it?”

Shadow let her grin spread. “Of course! It's perfect! I promise I'll be the best messenger ever-”

Russell made a signal for her to be quiet. “Yes, well, we're happy you're pleased,” he said sheepishly. “Go and have dinner, and Morning will talk you through your tasks, hours and so forth this evening. Off you go, child.”

She sprang to her feet, and gave the couple each a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Turning at the door, she glanced back again. “Thank you!”

Any comments, constructive criticism, ideas for titles, or if you've noticed any typos etc. would be very welcome.

The best of good intentions

Since I obviously lack the motivation to write about books after I've read them, I'm going to stop trying to do so. I have, however, been nagged into using the space to put up the beginnings of a novel I'm attempting to write myself. Perhaps that will motivate me to actually write it. Or perhaps not - we'll see.

It has as yet no title, because I'm useless at titles. A preliminary synopsis:

In the city of Greyminster, an underground community lives called the Westgate Clan, who have taken over a collection of half-ruined houses. This community consists of abandoned children, mostly illigitimate or 'defective' newborns unwanted by their parents. After being run for over 30 years, the community is fairly large and still growing. The hero, Shadow, is chosen to take the job of messenger, bringing her out into the city of Greyminster. She attempts to find her parents and uncover the mystery of her birth, and is also noticed by a high-up government official as having potential as an assassin.

Any thoughts or ideas would be very welcome. Prologue and draft chapters will follow!

It's been a while...

I haven't got round to posting again for quite a while, because I've got distracted, as tends to happen.

Quite a few books read in the meantime, many of which were the Southern Vampire series by Charlaine Harris - not written with much finesse or originality, but highly addictive and enjoyable, kind of like the junk food of literature.

I've moved onto Pendennis, by Thackeray, which is amusing and ironic in his usual style. Heavy to get through, though, with tiny dense text and not much in the way of actual action, but funny when I can be bothered to get round to it.

In other news, my laptop broke (totally nothing to do with it falling off my windowsill in an unfortunate act of clumsiness), resulting in a replaced harddrive and the heartbreaking loss of all my Sims 2 games and save files.

Over and out, hopefully not for as long as last time.

Wyrd Sisters

On Friday I went to see a production of Wyrd Sisters (original book by Terry Pratchett, adapted for stage by Stephen Briggs) at the Arts Centre, Aberystwyth, because this is where I live.

Being a massive Pratchett fan, I've read Wyrd Sisters several times, and was pleased to find the adaptation both accurate and not missing many parts from the book. I wasn't sure the 'voices of the Gods' representing narrative explanation worked very well, as they seemed incongruously Grecian and formal, but at the same time I can't think of any other way they could effectively put across background information without forcing contrived and overly knowing conversation between some of the characters.

Not all of the cast fitted their parts, physically speaking (for example, Hwel the dwarf was about 6 foot tall), but the acting was generally well done. In particular, the Duke was very effective, and Granny Weatherwax, despite being rather young, which can't be helped, played the part very well and had wonderful presence.

While there were only a few sets and props, they were convincing enough with suspension of disbelief, and to me, anyway, the background isn't overly important compared to the characters and action. The lack of equipment only really jarred at one point, when Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg are supposed to fly around the kingdom of Lancre on broomsticks.

In general, it was a very enjoyable production, keeping much of the original humour from the book, and worth watching if it appears anywhere near you.

Thought of the day: There only seem to be a limited variety of faces out there, combined in different ways. Surely there should then be people somewhere who look exactly like you, purely by coincidence?

The First Post: E Squared

I intend this blog to be mostly filled with thoughts on books as and when I finish reading them, although doubtless I'll get distracted by other more shiny and sparkly things. The first one is E Squared, by Matt Beaumont (pub. 2009).

I read it back to back with its prequel, E, and, while I very much enjoyed the first one, E Squared was considerably better. Both written through a sequence of emails, E followed the events of a few weeks in a fictional advertising agency, Miller Shanks. E Squared, however, focused on a different agency containing several of the same characters a few years down the line, and also included family members and various other characters from E, scattered in various places around the world. As well as emails, the plot is told through texts and MSN conversations, which added more layers of variety and subterfuge.

The main problem I had, in both novels, was attempting to remember who the less interesting and insane characters were, as the reader is plunged straight into the action with no exposition or character description. It's easy enough to figure out the main ones quickly, but I found it difficult keeping track of the more mundane ones.

All in all though, E was highly amusing, and E Squared even more so.

By strange coincidence, the next book I've started, The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker, seems to be an eighteenth-century parallel, told in letters between the characters, apparently mostly gossiping about each other.

Thought of the day: What if those little blinking lights on computers are trying to communicate with us in Morse code?