NaNoWriMo, Excerpt 1
Well, I'm not quite where I should be on my word count yet, but I'm pacing myself, and I'm pretty happy with my progress at the moment. And thus, it's time for me to post my first excerpt!
This is the Prologue, and as of right now, it's the only bit written in first person, present tense. I'm sticking to limited third, past for the rest of the novel.
Anyway, here is
Memory is a tricky thing they tell me. Although no two of us can claim the same experiences during our captivity, having our memories erased, in whole or in part is one of the things we all share. After all, it’s those memories that remain that led us home. Is it any wonder that I cling so strongly to the ones I still have? The earliest I can remember anymore isn’t that early at all, but the memory is crystal clear. And as bittersweet as it is, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m standing outside the gates of the Takarazuka Music School, with my mother’s sister and a huge crowd of other hopeful girls with their attached relatives. I think there were rumors nearly two thousand girls took the exams that year. Two thousand, vying for only about fifty spots. I can’t remember how old I was, though logic states I have to have been between fifteen and eighteen. I don’t think I took the exams more than once, so I am probably fifteen or sixteen. And just like every other girl standing there I’m painfully nervous. I shift my weight from foot to foot, gripping my purse tight enough to make my knuckles turn white. All around me, girls are chattering, voices high pitched with nervousness. No one’s gaze wavers from the main gate. We’re all waiting for a current student or two to come out and post the giant list of which of us were lucky enough to score high enough to be accepted to the school. Scored high enough to be given a shot at joining the magical dream of the Takarazuka Revue.
“Breath Ai-chan” my aunt says to me, though in retrospect I can’t remember if she’s calling me by my given name or a nickname.
“I know” I reply, my voice coming out a rough almost squeak. But I loosen my hold on my purse, slightly, and I manage a small smile.
“It doesn’t get easier,” a girl to my right says. She’s almost a full head shorter than me, with her hair done up in a thick braid that she’s twisted up off her neck. “I’ve done the exams twice all ready. It’s this waiting that is the worst part.”
I can only nod, and she gives me a smile.
“Hayashi Nao,” she says, with a bow which I return. I’m about to return with my own name, but a collective intake of breath, and the tightening of my aunt’s hand on my shoulder pulls my attention back to the gates. They’re opening, and I stand on my toes, trying to see over and around the heads of the other girls, all of us hoping for a first glimpse of the roll of paper that holds the answer to our wishes and dreams.
The two students with that roll don’t seem to notice or care about our collective impatience, though it can’t have been that long ago that they were in our place. Instead they seem to be doing an inordinate amount of fussing with the list as they tack it up. Really, none of us care it it’s perfectly straight, all any of us care about is if our names are on it.
There are scattered squeals and yelps of joy as those girls lucky enough to have names on the list that can be seen around the two student hanging it see and react to their acceptance. I’m practically bouncing with excitement and nervousness, and the moment the students step away I’m scanning the list. A girl in front of me breaks down crying, and is quickly led away by her parents. She didn’t make it. My breath catches in my throat as I finish my first scan of the list without seeing my name. I can feel the tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes, and my stomach start to twist. Next to me, Nao lets out a squeal of joy and grips my arm.
“I made it! I finally made it!”
I can’t reply, can’t make the proper congratulatory words form. But I’m saved from having to try as my aunt spins me around and pulls me into a hug, the bright smile on her face all at odds with my current nacient mood. “Congratulations!” she says, and I pull away confused. “You made it in!” she says, and turns me around again. I scan the list again, and sure enough, there is my name, though the kanji are indistinct in my memory, I remember wondering how I could have missed it. Now the tears do come, a torrent I can’t be bothered to try to stem. My aunt hands me a handkerchief and I wipe at my face with it, and start to laugh.
“I didn’t see it at first” I say to Nao, who is giving me a slightly worried look. “My name! I didn’t see my name! But I made it in!”
She smiles and takes my hand. “Then let’s go sign in!” My only response is to laugh, and my aunt gives me a light shove as we both half walk, half run towards where the line is forming for us to sign our official acceptance of our entry into the Music School. Sign in to our dreams
Comments welcome, but please remember this is an epically rough draft, so be gentle.
This is the Prologue, and as of right now, it's the only bit written in first person, present tense. I'm sticking to limited third, past for the rest of the novel.
Anyway, here is
Memory is a tricky thing they tell me. Although no two of us can claim the same experiences during our captivity, having our memories erased, in whole or in part is one of the things we all share. After all, it’s those memories that remain that led us home. Is it any wonder that I cling so strongly to the ones I still have? The earliest I can remember anymore isn’t that early at all, but the memory is crystal clear. And as bittersweet as it is, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I’m standing outside the gates of the Takarazuka Music School, with my mother’s sister and a huge crowd of other hopeful girls with their attached relatives. I think there were rumors nearly two thousand girls took the exams that year. Two thousand, vying for only about fifty spots. I can’t remember how old I was, though logic states I have to have been between fifteen and eighteen. I don’t think I took the exams more than once, so I am probably fifteen or sixteen. And just like every other girl standing there I’m painfully nervous. I shift my weight from foot to foot, gripping my purse tight enough to make my knuckles turn white. All around me, girls are chattering, voices high pitched with nervousness. No one’s gaze wavers from the main gate. We’re all waiting for a current student or two to come out and post the giant list of which of us were lucky enough to score high enough to be accepted to the school. Scored high enough to be given a shot at joining the magical dream of the Takarazuka Revue.
“Breath Ai-chan” my aunt says to me, though in retrospect I can’t remember if she’s calling me by my given name or a nickname.
“I know” I reply, my voice coming out a rough almost squeak. But I loosen my hold on my purse, slightly, and I manage a small smile.
“It doesn’t get easier,” a girl to my right says. She’s almost a full head shorter than me, with her hair done up in a thick braid that she’s twisted up off her neck. “I’ve done the exams twice all ready. It’s this waiting that is the worst part.”
I can only nod, and she gives me a smile.
“Hayashi Nao,” she says, with a bow which I return. I’m about to return with my own name, but a collective intake of breath, and the tightening of my aunt’s hand on my shoulder pulls my attention back to the gates. They’re opening, and I stand on my toes, trying to see over and around the heads of the other girls, all of us hoping for a first glimpse of the roll of paper that holds the answer to our wishes and dreams.
The two students with that roll don’t seem to notice or care about our collective impatience, though it can’t have been that long ago that they were in our place. Instead they seem to be doing an inordinate amount of fussing with the list as they tack it up. Really, none of us care it it’s perfectly straight, all any of us care about is if our names are on it.
There are scattered squeals and yelps of joy as those girls lucky enough to have names on the list that can be seen around the two student hanging it see and react to their acceptance. I’m practically bouncing with excitement and nervousness, and the moment the students step away I’m scanning the list. A girl in front of me breaks down crying, and is quickly led away by her parents. She didn’t make it. My breath catches in my throat as I finish my first scan of the list without seeing my name. I can feel the tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes, and my stomach start to twist. Next to me, Nao lets out a squeal of joy and grips my arm.
“I made it! I finally made it!”
I can’t reply, can’t make the proper congratulatory words form. But I’m saved from having to try as my aunt spins me around and pulls me into a hug, the bright smile on her face all at odds with my current nacient mood. “Congratulations!” she says, and I pull away confused. “You made it in!” she says, and turns me around again. I scan the list again, and sure enough, there is my name, though the kanji are indistinct in my memory, I remember wondering how I could have missed it. Now the tears do come, a torrent I can’t be bothered to try to stem. My aunt hands me a handkerchief and I wipe at my face with it, and start to laugh.
“I didn’t see it at first” I say to Nao, who is giving me a slightly worried look. “My name! I didn’t see my name! But I made it in!”
She smiles and takes my hand. “Then let’s go sign in!” My only response is to laugh, and my aunt gives me a light shove as we both half walk, half run towards where the line is forming for us to sign our official acceptance of our entry into the Music School. Sign in to our dreams
Comments welcome, but please remember this is an epically rough draft, so be gentle.