Day 1: Paris

Here’s an embarrassing confession: my geography stinks.

In school when national exams came up, I happily substituted geography for English literature even though NONE of my teachers taught it. With two months before the exam, I had to steal notes from my cousin’s literature class. For the first time, I found myself tackling the bewildering but fascinating language of Julius Caesar, Romeo and Juliet and the Pearl. It was my first exposure to literature beyond the swashbuckling tales of Robin Hood and King Arthur.

I got a B for that exam. And as you can imagine, I couldn’t tell you where Germany is on the map and the only reason I know where Norway is is because I once tried to conquer it in the Crusader Kings war strategy video game.

Therefore it shouldn’t surprise you that I did not expect the ferry.

I honestly thought that one gets from England to France by a long, long BRIDGE. Hey, Malaysia has an island called Penang, accessible by a nifty 13km bridge. San Francisco, a beautiful windy city that reminds me of Edinburgh, also has a 2.7km Golden Gate Bridge.

Bridges are cool. Bridges are awesome.

Naturally there’ll be a bridge connecting Dover and Calais, right? Right?

“So ulu (backward) are you,” my mom remarked at me later, shaking her head.

This (supposedly artistic) picture just doesn’t do it justice. I can’t wait to get up close to the Eiffel Tower.

Plan for Day 2: Ditch the parentals to go on a solo Paris adventure 😀

Tag, you’re it!

I’ve been tagged by my friend Alison for The Next Big Thing. At first I wasn’t sure what this meant until a little digging told me it’s also called the Work In Progress Challenge, where you’re asked a few questions about the book you’re writing.

Sounds like fun, so here we go!

What is the working title of your book?

Taboos. It’s Book 1 of 7 in the Malaysian Dark series, but self-contained. I just completed the outline, and am now halfway editing/polishing Book 1.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

It happened one night around 2008, when I was driving home and shedding my secret identity as a journalist. The idea beamed into my head: “Saaay, Malaysia has a ton of ghost stories. What if we had a team to deal with these cases? They could be experts in supernatural folklore from every race. That sounds cool! Like Malaysian Ghostbusters.” Little did I know I would soon be buried under an avalanche of research 😉

What genre does your book fall under?

Urban fantasy. Someone once described it as “supernatural thriller noir”.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I have three major characters. The main character, Arshad, would have to be someone who can fluidly speak two to three languages and basically kick ass.

Looks-wise, I would love to have him look like the hunky Bollywood actor, Arjun Rampal. Hey, I can dream, right? 😉

(Photos courtesy of http://www.beritaduniaku.com/ and http://www.cinemamalaysia.com.my/artist/gallery/?id=Ida_Nerina_Hussain_3254)

The dear late Yasmin Ahmad, an amazing woman and talented director, would have been perfect for my other major character, Salmah. As it is, an older version of the super hot Ida Nerina works too!

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

“A cursed man must save the world, threatened by demons and ghosts, by conquering his greatest enemy: himself.”

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Preferably through an agency, but I’m open to releasing it as an ebook if I cannot find representation!

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Three loooong years. I was also doing my MA in between, tackling a massive amount of research and planning out the characters, plot and settings for the whole series. Oh, and generally trying to survive and earn a living. I felt better when I heard it apparently took J.K. Rowling five years to write the first Harry Potter, as she was sorting out the other books. (Not that I’m saying I’m J.K. Rowling ;D )

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Jim Butcher’s The Dresden File series. I was already working on the concept for my story when I picked up the very entertaining first book in his series, but Mr Butcher was definitely an influence. I would also compare my book to Vertigo’s graphic novel title Hellblazer, famous for its character John Constantine. (I still insist I enjoy Keanu Reeves’ portrayal of him in the Constantine movie. Hellblazer fans, don’t flame me)

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

I set out at first to create a fun, fantasy-filled adventure set in Malaysia. As I was writing, I also realised there were a number of socio-political issues playing in the background. You can’t help but notice them when the characters move around, trying to get things done. I love my country, but there are things about it that bother the heck out of me. However, the last thing I want is to hit readers on the head with a political message.

Instead the problems will rarely be addressed as I focus on telling a (hopefully) Damn Good Story. It helps that I have a main character who might represent the apathy, the silence, of many Malaysians about these issues. If you know what Malaysia is like, you’d understand there are a lot of things the authorities don’t want you to bring up as it might offend the so-called “sensitivities and feelings of the other races”. And so a number of us has grown up, I believe, tolerating the way things are, simply because we don’t know any better.

To be honest (or long story short) I would never have finished the book if not for my friends and the lecturers of my Creative Writing MA programme. They actually believe I had something to my crazy story!

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

It’s got kickassery. Banter and bumblings. Malaysia. Characters I will put through the meat grinder. Gangsters and goons. Malaysia. Spooky shacks and haunted highways. Ghosts and scares. Did I mention Malaysia? 😉

Anyway it’s time to tag others and pass on the Luurv…

…Actually, I was supposed to find five people to tag about their Next Big Thing, but could only find the awesome bloke Jon Jon Fagan at http://deadsaukko.wordpress.com/

I ran out of time before having to rush off to Europe (I wrote this post early and set it to post on Wednesday. Sort of like writing a love note to Marty McFly in the past… or was it Back to the Future? 😉

Anyway, tag, Jon, you’re it!

Day 0: London

Damn, London is wet.

But the air is cool and refreshing on top of a moving bus! In Malaysia, you’d be promptly baked in two seconds if you were to try this under the blazing sun.

Why would anyone sit and look at London through the rain-blurred glass of a window? I’m beginning to wonder if the water here has stripped the tourists of their sense of adventure…or if it’s simply that I am a loon.

Tomorrow, Paris.

Off to Europe I go!

It has finally happened. After a year of planning, I am actually visiting Europe! I’ve been in the UK for three years now, and as much as Edinburgh is gorgeous, I have also wistfully eyed the magical-seeming lands of Paris and Switzerland, and clung to the tales of seasoned travellers.

And now it’s happening. My parents and family friends have landed in Edinburgh, and in two hours we will be making our way to Glasgow, and on to London where our month-long coach tour will begin. I wonder what will happen?

Will I see Italian hunks as beefy as Scotland’s?

Will I stalk the flowers of Florence and the stems of Slovenia?

WILL I GET TO HUG A GRECIAN COLUMN?

Time will time! Seriously, I don’t know how the coach tour guides do it. After only two days of showing my parentals around Edinburgh, I am dead tired. And I hardly did anything but point them to places and utter, “This historic. This pretty. Take pictures of it.”

I don’t plan to be idle on my Europe journey, however. I’ve got my novel simmering in my netbook, and I hope to tinker with it, editing-wise, in my spare time.

(What’s that? Are those knowing snickers I hear in the background?)

Onwards and upwards!

Once More for the Skies, Dear Friends

Pretty in spring

I’m back. Again. Hello, anyone!

A lot can happen in six months. Or seven. I can’t believe how quickly time has passed. And when the days fly past, part of me can’t help but feel guilty on days when I’m not squeezing every drop of creative brain juice possible onto the page by the time the clock hits bedtime.

But as a friend pointed out, I need Sanity Breaks too!

I’ve needed a lot of Sanity Breaks this year.

Here is a quick summary – Good and Bad – of what’s happened/happening since February.

• I had the most amazing time in Texas – yay!
• I returned home safely to Edinburgh (I swear!)
• I had one  short story published in an anthology
• I’m halfway to editing my Malaysian urban fantasy novel (faster! *cracks whip*)
• I’ve been frantically planning a trip to Europe this month with my parents – woo!
• I’ve been working full-time in a clothing store since April – double yay!

Yes, after months of agonising, dread and drama, I finally chased down that most elusive quarry – a permanent full-time job in the UK. Pity it took a year before I could corner it, but better late than never, at least!

A summer view outside my window

The sad thing about it? My visa expires this year on Dec 10, and that means I must go home to Malaysia, leaving behind a gorgeous city and amazing, amazing friends. And because I’d be disappearing the whole month of October for my Europe trip, I had to resign from my job end of September. No company was going to let me beam off the planet for a month and take me back another month, only for me to disappear into the Delta Quadrant when December hits. Unless you were a Very Nice company.

It’s been an incredible experience nonetheless, these past few months, working in the clothing store. But that’s a story for another day.

The Bad News

The downside? Let’s just say I’ve had a bit of an emotional crisis. The kind that involves family, challenges your sense of identity and esteem, and bitchslaps when you choose to butt heads against walls people have built an entire lifetime. The kind of crisis that makes you want to curl in bed and give up.

I have to admit: May, June were tough months. It was hard to concentrate. I had the emotional equivalent of train wrecks stuck on Repeat in my brain. I spent months questioning who I am, what I am, what I should be.

Even now, with the Europe trip of a lifetime about to kick off in just four days…well, some days are hard.

But guess what?

I’m still here, still writing, still living and reaching for the Dream.

I am Rocky Balboa. I am Jean Grey. I am hunger and anger and joy and pain, and I am NOT giving up. Blue skies, ahoy!

Keeping me Weird

Hi everyone!

Man, didn’t mean to drop off the face of the earth, but I had two (well, maybe one) good reasons!

First of all, once again jobless. Despite the hope I’d be asked to continue at that supermarket I did a Christmas contract for, I’ve not heard a lick of a word from them. But perhaps that is a good thing! Perhaps this is a sign from On High that I should get off my butt and submit (yet again) applications more relevant to my degree and work experience.

In the meantime, what have I been doing ever since I finished my novel?

Skyrim.

Yes, this fantasy video game has utterly swept me into its snowy world and done a damn good job of helping me forget the pain/depression of losing a stable means of income. But I would also be fooling myself. If I wanted to, I could always go back to that dishwasher stint, or head out there and perform the same old rituals of the (job) hunt.

I just chose not to. For over a month and a half, I chose to – for once – have FUN. I chose to lose myself in Skyrim. And oh, has the obsession been sweet.

God, this is a beautiful, beautiful game. Words just can’t describe it. These past few weeks, I felt like I could do anything – slay dragons, wrestle giants to the ground, and tackle most obstacles merely by poking it with a sword and castle-sized stones. No messy job hunts. To earn money, all I had to do was to raid tombs and rob the dead, or help a girl find love in a small town, or reunite ghostly lovers searching for each other on an ancient battlefield.

I could go on and on about the game, but let’s just say that Skyrim is the reason I disappeared from Facebook and much of social life, leading people to actually wonder what happened to me! In fact, I played this game so much the fingers of my right hand swelled up, requiring me to drastically realise that, okay, perhaps I should ease back on the 12-hour, bladder-tightening gaming sessions.

But in the end, when it comes to my prospects, it’s just as Paolo Roy says about unemployment: I have to figure out how to live on my own terms.

Hack and Polish

It has not all been fun and games! I have actually started the editing process for my novel. This requires me to print it all out, as having it on paper makes it much easier for me to spot the minute and structural details I should fix.

And what a whopper the novel turned out to be! At 14-font and single space, the manuscript was a murder weapon-worthy 258 pages.

With my muse dragon, Fangthorn, and Fuzzy Red Hat of Inspiration.

Now that I gave myself a month to let the novel ‘rest’, I could start rereading with a fresh mind.

Good news, at least. So far I’ve gone through three-quarters of the manuscript and it isn’t as bad as I thought it was. There are two, three chapters that need serious reworking but otherwise…it could work. I just need to get to the ending before I can get down to the serious rewriting.

PLANE HOPPING

But there is, also, another reason I’ve not bothered job hunting the past month. February is when I fly to Texas for an exciting month-long vacation I planned half a year ago. And after a whale of preparations, I am finally here!

Austin's motto, seen on a colourful row of T-shirts at the airport.

That’s right. I’m in the US of A, and so far my holiday is fantastic 😀

I’m come across a customs official who tawks ta me in dat distinctive Brooklyn accent, spotted people in Amish-like robes, and eavesdropped on Americans who chatter straight out of all those US telly programmes I grew up on back in good old Malaysia.

It’s a surreal feeling, and I must stop acting like such a tourist and stopping every five steps to take photographs! I have a feeling people will not look too kindly to me stalking them with a camera.

But hey, at least I brought my homework – the manuscript which I saved on my thumb drive and plan to edit when I get some free time at night.

And in case people are wondering: No, this vacation will be, for once happily, Skyrim-free.

Will update soon, I hope! 😀

A Christmas Memory

Merry Christmas, everyone! Sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but a lot of things have been happening the past few weeks.

For one thing, I finished my first novel!! 😀

After starting it in March 2009, with a Masters in between, I have finally hit the finish line at 97,800 words on December 20, 2.20am (yeah, nice number 😉 ). In the words of my former mentor, I have SLAIN THAT DRAGON!

Now I am letting my dragon roast and cool for a while to clear my mind of doubts and second guesses, before I start carving–I mean, editing the novel in January. It still needs a lot of work, but at least the story is not irredeemable, I hope.

How do I feel? Excited, relieved, a bit emotional too to tell the truth. Since I first started writing the novel – back when I was a journalist in Ipoh, Malaysia – so much has happened. I flew across half the world, met amazing people, and became blessed with good friends.  In these two years, I also lost my grandmother who was taken away so suddenly. And I tried not to miss Malaysia so intensely.

What Christmas Means to Me

Christmas always makes me think of my grandmother. My Poh Poh would cherish those rare times I’m home for Christmas, and on the eve we would go for midnight Mass together with my brother. Not being much of a churchgoer, I could never understand why people would turn up several hours before a midnight Mass.

Once, we’d turned up five hours early for the midnight service! I remember, deep down, of feeling resentful of having to go so early. Despite arriving at 7pm, every seat inside the church was already taken and people were filling the rows of plastic chairs outside on the church porch. Sitting beside my Poh Poh, I’d hold the thin white candle that scalded my fingers with melting wax despite the manila card ‘hilt’. I would spend those hours praying, reflecting on my life, playing with balls of wax and trying not to wish for a music player.

Time passed faster than I thought, as I had a lot of people to ask God to look after, there was plenty of things to reflect on my life, and soon enough I’d find myself daydreaming (nightdreaming?) about some story in my head. In the landscape of my mind, characters played out betrayals, dramas, fought, schemed, and were made to not swear so much (‘because you people are in church, darnit!’)

And then the moment came in the Mass to stand and wish Peace Be With You, where you are supposed to nod or shake the hand of your fellow Christians. I am ashamed to say this is the part I always, always hate most about Mass, because I would cringe at having to do this with strangers. I can’t help it, I’ve always resented it. It’s like a teacher forcing you to sing the national anthem, or your friends egging you into sticking your tongue against a lamp post in winter.

Once that Peace Be With You business is over however, my tensions about the whole Mass dissolve. I could relax like normal people.

Which is why it’s ironic that when I hurried into church this morning for Christmas Mass, late as usual, I flopped myself onto a wooden seat…only for the priest to call, “Now let us make to each other the Sign of Peace!”

With a gasp, I hopped back up and dutifully clasped the hand of the man beside me and the people around us. (Speaking of which, this is amazing to me: I come late and I can still find plenty of seats at the St Mary’s  RC Cathedral. I presume there are not many Roman Catholics in Edinburgh!) I waited for my insides to squeeze with anxiety when I had to meet their eyes, or for my heart to pound when I shake their hands…nothing.

Perhaps it’s because I was already breathless from rushing here, perhaps I didn’t have to wait in dread anticipating that feared moment of the Mass. Instead, I felt almost…calm. The Mass went on, and it was only when the choir launched into a noel that I nearly broke down.

The main reason I came to church was to light a tea light candle for my Poh Poh, as I’ve done for her last Christmas mass. I’m sure she would have preferred I go for Mass every Sunday, just as I’m sure she must have hoped I speak to her more when she was alive. In 19 months, I’ve had time – and good people – to help me deal with the grief and the guilt, to make me understand it’s absolutely normal to feel regret, as long as I don’t let my life be ruled by it.

As long as I live my life without fear.

Today, at least I could place the candle in its holder and say: Hello, Poh Poh. I’m here. And I’ve done it.

Merry Christmas!

My World, my Muse

Believe it or not, the first time I’d really heard of the word ‘muse’ was from Neil Gaiman’s short story ‘Calliope‘ from his famous Sandman series.

Pencilled by Kelley Jones and inked by Malcolm Jones III.

For those who haven’t read it, Calliope is the tale of an unscrupulous author who, in a desperate attempt to cure his writer’s block, bargains for the muse Calliope of Greek legend. Instead of treating his muse kindly, the author abuses her. Inspiration strikes, and he churns out novel after successful novel.

Let’s just say the story does not end well for the author. What stayed with me all these years, however, was not the man’s gruesome fate, but how he was punished – when a flood of ideas began swarming his mind in a neverending stream. Babbling them aloud, he frantically tries to write them all down, in vain. And these are not substandard ideas, people! Some of the ideas Gaiman wrote were stunning enough to make me want to pen stories out of them myself.

I wish I could give a transcript, but I’d left my entire Sandman collection back home in Malaysia ;P

Since then, I’ve not given much thought to what inspires me. I’m pretty sure I pick up ideas like everyone else – reading books, watching a movie, people spying or watching the world go by on a bus. I certainly do a lot of that during the 50min bus ride to my place of work.

Some people might think an hour-long bus ride is torture (I have to run out of the house at least 80mins before my shift to comfortably get there on time). But this is just perfect for someone who probably stays home far too often. I use the bus rides to catch a nice power nap or take the opportunity to see the streets of Edinburgh, which to me remain exotic and deeply fascinating. Look at the shop signs all written in English, for instance, instead of the mixture of English, Malay and Chinese back home. And the roads with names like Rose Street, Niddry Wynd and Leith Walk, instead of Jalan Yap Ah Loy or Laluan Ipoh Perdana. And look at all the people! With hair frizzy or yellow or purple or dreadlocked, and dressed too in so many different ways to beat the chill of Scotland. The variety amazes me, the alienness incredibly exciting even after two years.

Chances are during these journeys, an idea would either creep up or smack me on the face. That’s when the writer is supposed to whip out their trusty notebook and jot down the ideas that would no doubt inspire their next bestselling novel.

Or you could be like me, notebook again left snoozing at home, and write those ideas on their mobile phones.

I just rediscovered two such ‘gems’ of an idea saved on my phone, which I keyed in months ago. Pleased, I reread them eagerly…only to end up squinting at the words: Tablet time capsule from future. Bus breathing like heart.

Please don’t ask me what on earth the ‘tablet’ refers to, because I haven’t the faintest idea. And as for the ‘bus breathing like heart’ bit, I suspect I was high on cider at the time, but I do like that bit of imagery!

Speaking of which, I must share this from the Oglaf comic strip! I won’t be providing a link, as this brilliantly funny webcomic is very NSFW. Those interested can google Oglaf, but for now, enjoy!

How about you? Is there any particular thing or place that inspires you? Gets your creative juices going? Any person who has become your Muse? 🙂

PS: Eeeps at the time. I hope to wake up in time to volunteer at the charity shop tomorrow! Runs off!

This is what November taught me

This is it. I am so pumped. After resting three days from my crazy NaNoWriMo + Malaysian novel + blogging scheme of November, I am finally going to do it.

I am going to finish the first draft of A Malaysian Dark by Christmas – after starting it as a creative writing sample for a university application in early 2009.

Finishing this has also become something personal, because someone once essentially told me this novel of ghosts and supernatural forces should not be written. That the themes are “dangerous” to touch on, culturally and mystically.

Perhaps it is. It doesn’t mean I am not going to dare the landmine. 

Up in the Clouds

Thanks to Limebirdbeth, I came across this lovely website called Wordle that creates a cloud of the most common words you use with a piece of text. You can even change the colours and layouts! Here is the wordle of my Malaysian novel first draft. Nifty, isn’t it? 😀

For me, the most important lesson I took from November is this – that under the pressure and struggle of daily life, it is possible for my procrastinaty self to write an obscene amount of words. November’s word count tally:

1. NaNoWriMo – 50, 489
2. Blogging for 28 days – 15,951
3. Malaysian novel – 6,811

Now everyone has different ways and pace of writing, and this in NO WAY reflects on you.

But for me, this is a personal achievement because I felt my productivity could have been better the past year. True, my life the past few months has been wrought with house moves, job hunting, dramas and what not, but I felt like I was lacking the discipline and focus of the writing habit. I envy the authors who seem to so easily churn out the novels like matchsticks. How did they do it, I wondered? Apparently it gets easier with practice, which for myself who is easily distracted, means to never stop writing.

Here is what November also taught me:

• That you can always slip in an hour or 20 minutes of writing before rushing off to do something else. During a lunch hour, for instance, or after you crawl home from work.
• That during a crazy writing bout, you must take care of your body – eat fruits, vegetables and supplements to boost your immunity. Wine probably works for those who like alcohol. I’m more a cider or ginger beer gal 😉
• That it is useful to appoint something that will put you in the Writing Mood. Like putting on a special hat, or playing a certain kind of music, or unplugging the internet (“Noooooooo!”)
• That when you are on the edge of exhaustion, and your body cries out for sleep, you can keep writing with this magical phrase: “Just 100 more words”.
• That the quality of your writing improves substantially with sleep or a power nap (Duh).
• That you can start a novel with no characters, no plot and no direction. You will naturally spin up a wonderful story in no time, if you trust yourself.
• That it is perfectly acceptable to take a break from your writing now and then. An overworked writer is a broken writer capable of banana homicide.
• That if you tell enough people that you are going to finish a 50,000 word novel in one month, then by golly you better get off your duff and do it unless you have bigger stones than mine 😉
• That a NaNoWriMo novel is substantially different from a novel you want to take time and care to craft (Malaysian Dark). A NaNo novel emphasises on quantity, not quality. But when it comes to quality, it is perfectly okay, even advisable, to go slower. It takes time to craft something with skill!

I probably can think up more, but I must rush to work now! 🙂

PS: There’s the first thin layer of snow outside my house!

Victory, or Day 30 NaNoWriMo

I did it! I did it! WOOHOO!

As of 9.30pm, I wrote 5,118 words today for the grand total of:

50489 / 50000 words. 101% done!

I had to summarise entire scenes so I could type the words THE END (which was deeply satisfying, I have to admit). This month-long exercise has been interesting – Young Adult is a genre I don’t usually write, but it has turned out to be quite fun.

I cannot wait to write THE END for my Malaysian novel next month.

For anyone who’s interested, here’s a rough blurb and an excerpt of my fantasy YA novel which I had to submit to the NaNoWriMo website for validation. Mind you, it IS a first draft and needs much more work. I would love for any feedback. (And yes, I know there are heavy shades of The Neverending Story here : )

THE BOOKSHOP APPRENTICE (working title)

Benjie has lived and worked in Bluebell’s Bookshop ever since he was abandoned on their doorstep. Now 14, he is determined to achieve his ultimate goal – to earn the Heart of Books. This gift will not just elevate him from lowly bookchild to a Supervisor’s position, but grant him something usually restricted to the nobility: the ability to read. Fate, however, has other plans. When famous bookhunter Jacobus St Cier recruits him as an apprentice, it is the beginning of an adventure that will throw him against bullies, dragons, bloodthirsty soldiers and tyrant gods, all in the utter confusion of growing up and enduring the determined attentions of an alluring, infuriating nobleman’s brat.

Excerpt

A guttural voice echoed throughout the passageways:

WHO DARES INVADE OUR SANCTUARY?

The corridor widened into another cavern where the row of pillars ended in giant statues of wolfentae guardians. Crouching as if to pounce, the two monsters stood at the entrance of a mighty doorway, their bristling fur captured in marble. As guardians go, these looked suitably decent for the job. Furry tails ended in teeth, claws dank deep into the ground, and currently their three eyes were narrowed in baleful red lines. One could see the reason why.

From behind a pillar, Benjamin St Cier watched with detached interest as a company of Southern Knights charged the gates of the Inner Caverns. Beyond those gates, he could see the unmistakable glow of the Scholar’s treasure – the culmination of a thousand years of civilisation, the storehouse of their wealth and knowledge.

The knights’ mounts thundered down the hallway to crash past the wolfentae guardians. Their bright banners danced in their wake.

“For the White Kingdoms!” the lead knight bellowed. “For Queen Edora! For brave Prince Byron!”

Hot white beams shot out of the guardians’ eyes and turned the entire company into an explosion of chopped body parts and ash. Limbs flew. Armour clattered to the ground. Elk mounts shrieked; one of them shot past Benjamin screaming, its great hooves thundering in the other direction.

The beams flashed again, and the air went sharp with ozone and other things wet and metallic.

Benjamin gave it a few minutes, to let utter silence descend and for the red mist to settle. Then he stepped out from behind his pillar to approach the guardians.

HALT, they said.

The young man kept walking, unarmed arms at his side, eyes on their stony faces. Years ago, the stare of those eyes might have paralysed him. Now he could not falter. He stepped over some knight’s helm.

WHO DARES INVADE OUR SANCTUARY?

He lifted a hand to slip it into his coat.

PREPARE TO DIE, THIEF–

“Oh, shut up,” Benjamin said, loud enough to carry to the ears of the guardians.

That silenced them a moment.

“I am not a thief,” he added, wondering if it was possible to hurt the feelings of a stone guardian. “I’m not here to steal your treasure.”

NOT…STEAL?

They seemed to have some trouble comprehending this concept.

Benjamin found his notebook in the left inner pocket, plucked it free, flipped open the pages. “According to our records, the Scholars of Pandora borrowed this volume – I Lost my Horn: A Unicorn’s Story, hardback, non-fiction – eight hundred and sixty seven years ago from the Library of Mt Crescent.” He tapped a finger on a particular page. “To our knowledge, that book has not been returned. I, Benjamin St Cier, official representative of Bluebell’s Bookshop and Acquisitions, am here on behalf of the library to collect this overdue volume which I understand to be somewhere in your treasure horde.”

COLLECT…A BOOK?

The guardians sounded almost cowed.

“And to collect on the fine, of course.” Benjamin nodded, one hand snapping shut his notebook before reaching into his other pocket. “We have taken the liberty of calculating the amount, which Bluebell’s – taking into consideration the Red Wars and two Ends of the World – have agreed to reduce to the amount of coin only required to fill one sack. We are not unreasonable. Here is my badge.”

He held out his forged badge of office while the guardians appeared to stare at it. He flipped it closed three beats later.

“Now. May I pass?” Benjamin said in a calm tone.

…YOU MAY.

Nodding gratefully, the young man began sauntering forwards. His heart pounded as he stepped over the remnants of bones recently scoured of their flesh. He kept his eyes on the golden glow of the room ahead.

To his left and right, the guardians watched him, almost as if they were trying to decide something about him.

Ten more steps to the door.

Four more steps.

Two.

WAIT, the guardians boomed.

End of Excerpt

Now I shall go crash a hundred years 😉 Night, night, all.