NaNoWriMo 2021!

    I have finally decided to do NaNoWriMo for the first time. Back in 2014 I had planned to try it but something happened and well... that never happened. So this time I decided I'm actually going to do it.

   I decided to work in one of my newer stories 'The Way of Things'. A wagon train/Indian captive story. If you guys enjoyed 'The Tales of the Nez Perce' series then you should also like this one. As you know, I am not a big book writer. I don't believe I've ever written a book longer than 46k. I'm more of a novella writer and since 'The Way of Things' is already to Chapter 4 then this book should be done at the end of this month... let's hope.

   Today is day 2 and I did successfully write 1716 yesterday. Keep your fingers crossed!

Excerpt from 'The Way of Things'

Unease works its way through me as I keep walking deeper and deeper into the dense wood. If I keep walking soon I'll be lost. The ground is more barren than it should be, almost as if there were a fire recently. Is that the reason that a family abandoned the cabin?

I grab sparse sprigs of random herbs as I go along on the search for a white willow. Dry leaves crunch under my feet and I realize how loud I’m being but there’s no one around but I… at least I assume. The birds above me sing to each other up a few yards. I finally spotted a willow. I sprint for it and quickly get to work, dropping the bark into my bag. In my concentration, I fail to notice there’s someone only a few feet from where I stand. Long hair… deerskin leggings… I nearly shriek and cover my mouth, stifling it.

The Indian doesn’t notice me or anything for that matter. He’s crouched down by a tree next to a patch of yellow flowers. I watch as he lifts a flower to his nose. The scene is so tranquil— 

A piece of bark slips from my fingers and I realize I’ve completely stopped and forgotten what I’m supposed to be doing.

How dreadful am I?! I blink hard and shake my head. Was I staring? The thought horrifies me. I bend to pick up the piece focusing on my situation. He’s definitely about to notice he’s not alone. How am I going to escape?

And if that’s not the worst of my problems. Two birds trill in the distance and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Those are not birds.

I shrink close to the tree

The man with the yellow flower stands up and immediately our eyes meet. He frowns at me and I frown too. I wonder if he will let me go quietly or sound the alarm to his friends that I’m here. I dare not move a muscle but if I don’t then what becomes of me?

He turns his head toward the so-called birds and trills back.

I tense, clutching my satchel with all I’m worth. I must get back to Grandmama.

Looking back, he assesses me with his brown eyes. There’s no evil intention in his gaze. It dawns on me how normal and civilized he seems. Not at all like the imaginations my Pa conjured up with his stories of ‘heathen Injuns’. Don’t get me wrong. This doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared silly.

He nods at me and I blink at him in shock. His pleasant face fixes into scowl when I don’t move. It takes me a second to understand he wants me to leave. He makes a frantic shoo-ing motion at the tell tell sign of his friends quickly approaching. I can’t hear their silent steps but he can.

I spin on my heels so fast that I pitch forward and have to right myself. I don’t look back and run as fast as I can out of these woods. I dare never to step foot in them again.