I COME BEARING SNIPPETS (they're for everyone to share okay, make a tidy line, no pushing)

Hello.

It's me.

AAAAH THAT NEVER GETS OLD DOES IT. Try and tell me you didn't just sing that in your head if you want, I won't believe you.

Anyway, I come bearing SNIPPETS! Of my current WIP, a.k.a the unnamed project that's been driving me crazy for about five months now. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check out this post, where I talk about what my WIP is about (plus a few earlier snippets).

I've been in one of those moods lately where I actually think my writing project is turning out quite well and that it might have some chance of one day being a semi-decent novel. (Question: is it bad to fangirl over your own characters?? Because I totally fangirl over my own characters. THEY ARE SO AWESOME*. *Sometimes.) I'd been suffering from really bad writers' block until recently, namely because a few weeks ago I accidentally tripped and fell into a dark pit of self-doubt... Like, I got so anxious about my writing I just. Could. Not. Write. Anything. And it was awful. But I'm back now! I managed to climb out of the metaphorical pit! Yay for me! So to celebrate, I've brought some snippets here for you all to share. I'm nice like that.

Anyway, let's get to it...


                                                                                                                                                                   

[Ashley] started making her way slowly down the road, keeping her eyes wide open, taking everything in. All her senses felt alert, on edge. There was something that felt so foreign about this world, and she didn’t know what it was exactly. Was it the clean, crisp air? The odd shifting glass of the towers around her? The feel of the smooth pavement under her feet? The unfamiliar vehicles that zipped by every now and then? The babble of voices around her, speaking in accents that she’d never heard before? The strange, colourful styles of clothes that the people around her were wearing? Or maybe it was a mixture of it all. Whatever it was, it made her feel almost dizzy, and more lost and lonely than ever.

                                                                                                                                                         

The alley curved around at the middle, leading Ashley to the right. After about a minute she arrived at the end of it.

And stepped out into total madness.

Hordes of people of every ethnicity crushed past in their crazy, wildly colourful styles, talking and laughing and yelling at the tops of their voices as they shoved and elbowed their way along the road. Lining the wide street, the bottom floors of the towers, were what were obviously shops, with bright, flashing, multicoloured front displays that were almost blinding to look at, advertising their products and enticing customers to enter. Huge displays, set into the buildings ten or so metres above street level, showed more advertisements and information aimed at tourists visiting the city. There wasn’t a road for vehicles, but some five metres above the ground there were a couple of broad black strips, along which those strange pointed vehicles cruised by.

                                                                                                                                                        

The girl narrowed her dark eyes at her. “You talk funny,” she said bluntly. “I mean, this is London, so everyone talks weird to me, but I’ve never heard someone talk as weird as you. Where ya from?”

Ashley felt a stab of annoyance. “I don’t talk funny,” she protested. “I’m from…” Well, she couldn’t exactly say that she was from a hundred and thirty-two years into the past. The girl would think she was insane, or worse, start asking all sorts of questions that Ashley didn’t feel like answering. “I’m from here,” she said, unable to stop herself sounding irritated. “I’m from London. South London.”

The girl shrugged. “Well, ya don’t sound like anyone from London I’ve ever met. You sound sorta old-timey. Like in those ancient movies.” She caught Ashley’s eye, and groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Urgh. Am I being tactless? Everyone’s always telling me, ‘jeez, Gemini, be a little more tactful will ya, ya’re gonna end up offending someone’. Hey, at least I’m honest, y’know? Always mean what I say. Can’t stand those idiots that go ‘round like they’re oh-so-charming but then say all kindsa crap when you’re not listening.” She paused. “Anyway, I’m sorry. Didn’t wanna be rude or anything.”

                                                                                                                                                             

It seemed that everything in twenty-second century London was excessively bright and colourful, and no-one seemed to care if colours clashed horribly, the way this woman’s suit was. Didn’t anyone understand the meaning of the word “subtle” anymore? She wondered if people got migraines, having to look at everyone else’s garish clothing all day.

                                                                                                                                                        

Ashley looked around. When she’d been here the walls had always been covered in the students’ artwork, parts of students’ projects and photographs from school trips and shows; now the walls had long been stripped of all that, revealing plain, peeling white walls with large, murky patches of damp here and there. Pieces of rubble and dust littered the worn wooden floor, most of it coming from the ceiling, which looked like it was in the process of coming down in chunks.

A hundred and thirty-two years. It was a long time. Long enough for what had once been a busy, vibrant school to become an abandoned wreck. Long enough for it to become a ghost building.

                                                                                                                                                                  

There was a moment of silence, broken by Gene. “Ashley Lenham? I swear I’ve heard that name before… isn’t it the name of that girl who just got revived after a hundred and thirty years of cryogenic sleep? I saw the story on the N the other day.”

Isra snorted. “Don’t look at me,” she said bitterly. “I haven’t had five spare minutes to watch the N in three years.”

“Yeah, I recognise the name too,” said Gemini slowly. When Ashley glanced up for a moment she saw that Gemini was leaning forwards, her hands braced on her knees, staring intently at Ashley with her eyes as wide as saucers. “Whoa,” she said quietly. “Does that mean you’re from a hundred and thirty years into the past?”

Ashley shrugged, fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeves.

“That is so freaking cool,” breathed Gemini, sounding awed.

                                                                                                                                                                 

Anywayhopeyoualllikedthistellmewhatyouthinkgottarunbye

>>Andrea