It’s been a loooooonnnggg winter, but I’m happy to report I’m out of the snow plow and back at my desk. Episode Two; Drop of Water is almost ready to go to my editor and I’m aiming for a July release date. I can’t wait to share it with you, it was so fun to write a water world!
Meanwhile, long winters plowing snow tends to mean messy houses in need of some serious spring cleaning and that’s what I’ve been doing the last couple of days. Not the ever-so-tempting “lick and a promise go down the middle and call it good” spring cleaning, but the deep kind, where you actually move stuff and open mystery boxes and ask yourself, “Why do I feel compelled to save five thousand plastic grocery bags???”
You do it too. Admit it.
Anyway, in the midst of cleaning and sorting I’ve been throwing old notebooks in a stack on the kitchen table so I could go through them later and see if there’s anything worthwhile in them. Later came today and, lo and behold, I found something so old that I think it’s a remnant from the early nineties, (based on what else is in the notebook). Inside, smack in the middle of the notebook as if I had grabbed it and flipped it open to any ol’ page in my rush to start writing, I found the beginnings of a story that I have zero memory of writing. It’s my hand-writing, so I know it was me, but still…I read it twice and it doesn’t ring any bells. I can only conclude that my Muse hijacked my hand for a moment to scribble the words in a messy, rushed, psuedo-shorthand. And, as I read through it, I found myself intrigued and wanting to know more. So just for the fun of it, I thought I’d share these three pages with you and let you decide….Should I beg my Muse to dredge up the memory of this story idea and finish it? (After I finish the Quest, of course…)
Leave your vote in the comments!
We have been exiled. Exiled and abandoned, my associates and I. Left to live out our days on this tiny planet at the edge of the universe. Our crime? Morality in the face of the greatest crime against nature. A crime that we, researchers and scientists, are ultimately responsible for creating.
Together, we perfected the technology for genetically improving our own race. But that was not our crime. Our crime lies in our sharing the information with the Inner Circle. For they perceived our discovery as a means to create a super race. A race of beings intellectually and physically superior. We refused to help perpetuate this abomination against the laws of nature. For this, we have been sent away. Sent away to this primitive planet where only the simplest of creatures has evolved.
Our ship is operational, although the trip depleted our energy supplies and we find ourselves unable to leave the planet’s gravity. We have used our shuttles to survey the surface and find it habitable enough, although the creatures and plants below are strange to our eyes; resembling those we studied in the fossils of our home.
We have chosen an area near the planet’s midsection to make a base for ourselves and have already surveyed the site. Like so many tasks we now find necessary, the labor is alien to our experience and we rely greatly on our computers for illumination.
We feel fortunate the Inner Circle allowed us our ship and its contents: An apparent twinge of conscience at the last moment. Without our research labs, greenhouses, and libraries, we would surely have died, or at least gone insane while we endeavored to survive on this embryonic planet.
We have begun construction of our base on the planet surface. We have chosen to create a subterranean dwelling due to the unfamiliar and hostile environment on the planet’s surface. The daylight seems to spin by in the blink of an eye and the onset of dark brings a myriad of strange creatures from the forests. These creatures seem to be mostly just curious; no doubt trying to discern if we are edible or not, but we are taking precautions just the same because we have seen them attack and eat each other.
Today Dak landed his shuttle on the land to the south and encountered an interesting creature he calls an “Oot” because of the noise it made when Dak entered the forest. He said the creature looked like someone had shoved large sharp teeth into the mouth of one of our own kind, squeezed his eyes together, and then glued brown grass all over its body. There was what appeared to be a whole family of these creatures: young and old, and they were as curious about Dak as he was about them.
Construction on our little base has reached a midpoint. We are again grateful for our tools and technology for they make our labor easier. I find myself feeling increasingly more frustrated with these menial tasks. I long to study this planet and its inhabitants. I feel I have before me the opportunity to study lifeforms that are closer to their origins than those present at home. (I am unable to refer to this new place as home.)
I am certain I am not the only one who is hungering for this new challenge. There seems to be an increase in “recon” missions taking place. I must volunteer myself at the next opportunity to go exploring.
What do you think? Finish it or chuck it in the trash?