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Soon to be novels.
Dream
The first novel I ever finished, however I am now reworking it. This is a tidbit from the finished old version of the novel. I was eighteen years of age when I finished it.
The apartment was old and cracked along the walls and there were cobwebs in the corners. The old green paint was fading after years of abuse. Still, the place was very tranquil, relaxing. An old writer's lamp with a green translucent shade on the bulb buzzed and flickered occasionally. Through the windows, Riley could see that it was a dark night with city lights fading very gradually. The carpet was stiff and stringy like somebody had sprayed hair spray over all of it. At first, Riley sensed that there was only one other person in there; a person he trusted. He didn't know whom, but someone was there.
Before Riley could find this other person that was in here, he came across a small girl sitting in the cold windowsill. The girl was nice and clean like she had just taken a shower. She looked to be the tender age of about seven, yet she was wearing makeup. Dark makeup. Her lips were dark blue and her eye shadow was pitch black. The young girl was wearing a velvet bathrobe with black sweat pants and a sweater on underneath. Her curious index finger ran smoothly along the windowpane gathering glittery dust as it went. She had a somewhat entertained expression aside from the fact that lavender tears were running down her cheeks.
When Riley turned back toward the center of the apartment, he saw the girl again as she was now walking on the reflective rug. She was standing knee-deep in it like the rug was made of reflective snow. She was humming a tune that seemed familiar but as soon as Riley tried to remember what the tune was, she stopped humming it. Curiously, Riley turned back to the window and saw that the girl was still in the windowsill too. The situation bewildered Riley, so he went into the next room and beheld a large crowd of teenagers crowded around a rug. Riley pushed his way politely through the crowd to see what they were looking at. He saw a strange dewy rose that stretched out along the rug. It was sleeping; he did not know how he knew. It was just a fact; the rose on the rug was sleeping. Riley wondered if there was not more to be seen, so he left the crowd and stepped into the back bedroom.
Chantel was sitting on the bed in the back room listening to some soft rock. She looked like she was under heavy stress. Riley asked what had her in such a mood and she explained that she was missing a book that J.D. had given to her. Riley had no idea who J.D. was, but he decided to help her to look for it. With his offer for help, she went back to her search for the book too. She told him where to look and where not to but to let her take care of. He followed her instructions carefully and searched to no avail just as she did. He sighed and sat down on the floor for a moment while she flattened out on the bed even more stressed now than before. He could see that she needed to find this book and nothing else could substitute it. The search could not stop no matter what.
Chantel's eyes were red and worn from all the endless searching she had been doing. Riley could see that her mind was exhausted and that thought itself had become a parasite to her existence. The significance of the book was hardly in question; it was the significance of anything. She wanted order. This book was not where she thought it would be and the thought of not having it around when she might need it ate away from her inside out. Riley did not want just to find the book, but to help her stop this disorder from tearing her up emotionally.
"Why aren't you with all the others watching the rose?" she asked.
"Why should I be?" he asked back.
"For the same reason that they are."
"Maybe I'm not for the same reason that you aren't."
"I'm not a role model," she said.
"I'm not following your example. I'm just doing what I find to be more important."
She rolled over and faced him over the side of the bed. Her tired eyes showing a little more life. "Do you really want to find the book or are your motivations something different?" she asked.
"I want to help you to rearrange this place. It's tired. Sleepiness is all over the place, but insomnia tortures it," Riley blurted, unsure of what he really just said.
"I'd like that, but if I can't do it then you definitely couldn't. After all, this is my place."
"I didn't say that I was going to fix it alone. I said that I wanted to help you rearrange it."
"What I could not accomplish alone you probably could not help," she said as kindly as possible.
Riley looked up onto her writing table and beheld that beneath another flickering green lamp was a crisp new book with a bookmark and everything in it. Riley went over to it, picked it up and before reading it; he knew that it was a book on how to find lost order. Underneath that book was another book that Riley knew was the book written by J.D. "You ought to look at both of these," he said as he handed them to her.
"I can't read the titles, my eyes are too blurry. Is one of them the book written by J.D.?" she asked with more hope than Riley had seen her with all night.
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Do you trust me?"
"I have faith in you."
"Then get some rest and when you wake up, read the title for yourself," he assured her.
Gratitude was written all over her weary face as she closed her eyes and fell asleep with a grin. The satisfaction of knowing that he had helped warmed him up inside as he put a nice cool blanket over her and tucked her in. He kneeled beside the bed to say a quick prayer for her. Before any words could come from his mouth, he felt God's love for her overflow in his heart and he wanted just to wake her and tell her that God loves her so much, but it was evident that she would learn in good time. In order for him to tell her about God's love, she had to know that Riley cared for her too. Aside from that, God spoke to Riley and said that Riley did not fully comprehend His love either, so Riley let her sleep. He brushed some hair out of her face gently so as not to disturb her and whispered "Good night."
Everyone that had been watching the sleeping rose had left now and the young girl was now sleeping quietly next to the somnolent rose. Riley himself wanted to rest, but he knew that he already was resting. Chantel was too before she had fallen asleep in her dream, but sleeping in her sleep was so much more satisfying and restful. Riley knew that this was not his dream; it had been Chantel's. He was seeing other hearts through dreams.
Foclierre
The novel I am currently working on. Again, this is being rewritten and you are reading a snippet from the old version. This novel is fantasy, and is based on a totally new world.
Leaning over the rail of the balcony, Camelle took a bite of her ekkien bulb. The sugar made her jaw sting pleasantly. A gentle breeze ran through her hair as her soft eyes studied the city of Tyndelle. This was the paramount city, the highest of them all. And Camelle of Sheisse was one of the few blessed enough to reside in the parliamentary palace. There was no more important, sacred ground in the realm. With such privileges came great responsibilities however, and Camelle was accountable for all prosperity of the land, or lack thereof.
The white hair danced in the cool wind, shimmering in the light of the foclierre. Her white eyes were equally lustrous in the illumination. An air of confidence was clear in her posture. This tall slender beauty was regarded as among the most beautiful in all of Naduerre. She was well aware of this reputation. Wearing an elegant gray robe, with nowhere important to go, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine how she appeared from third person at this moment. Curious, am I desirable now?
Musicians were silent, for the night was drawing in. Everyone would need to slumber, including herself. Whenever she did not sleep, her skin would blotch. In her own eyes this blotchy effect was more noticeable than to others. Naturally, it was because Camelle was more noticeable and paramount to Camelle than to anyone else. She was not loved. Nor was she ready to be loved.
Someone called from within the palace. She fluttered back inside her room and listened again. A tenant was calling from outside the door to her quarters. "Dear Camelle, I have a message for you."
She opened the door slowly and peered around the corner. "It is?" she asked in a soothing voice.
The young nad outside the door licked his lips nervously and looked down, unable to keep eye contact with her. "A parliamentary gathering has been called for tomorrow. Inquien of Hullen has sent word of a great discovery and there needs to be discussion in regards to funding his project."
"Here now, what is it he's discovered?"
"Dear Camelle, I have been sent with limited sources."
"I do appreciate your time," she cooed.
The young nad continued through the halls and began calling for the next member of Parliament. His chin perked up and confidence restored in his demeanor. Camelle took a brief moment to notice this before closing her door again and laying among her cushions. "They do not look at me. And although I do not appreciate their hesitancy to behold me, I do appreciate the reason why. It is flattering in the least."
A time passed before another voice called her name. This voice was lower and asserted a bit more familiarity. Behind the door was Dereusse of Tarlonne. Dereusse was the head of Naduenne Expedition within the parliament. His responsibilities were in regards to the exploration of new ideas and lands. "It is?" she asked.
"May I accompany you for a moment Dear Camelle?" he asked.
She opened the door and gestured for him to come in. The nad removed his sandals and traversed through the aromatic room, exiting onto the balcony, hands behind him and locked the whole way. "Has your logistic heart come for company tonight?" she asked.
"Perhaps another night," he reasoned, "Tonight I want to discuss this issue of Inquien of Hullen. I assume you've received word?"
Camelle nodded. Her eyes searched his expression. He was the tallest of all the nad she knew and, even when leaning against the balcony railing, he towered high above. His black locks dangled in his face and his eyelids left but a thin opening, as always. This was a nad of slight expression. He pulled his robe tight together at the chest and looked up at the horizon.
"This nad has been but mentioned no more than edge-wise for nearly two years. His last claim to discovery was the static energy. Now tomorrow there is a convention in the southern side of Tyndelle. The purpose of the convention is to collaborate on recent findings in the laws of Shulle. Mathematicians will revere applications of numerology… Dear I cannot miss this convention. And this Inquien has ill motive."
"His motive is?" Camelle asked.
"If I do not show, I show a false lack of interest and therefore the community will lose confidence in me. Doors will open and Inquien can once again create a name for himself as a Parliamentary member."
"You do not ask yourself if this is all imagined."
"I did ask that of myself. Too unlikely. This is an annual convention. It is imperative that I attend."
"I see," Camelle asserted, "And you would like me to utilize public relations? Perhaps postpone this convention?"
"Or simply extend its duration. I will attend this parliamentary gathering, but I will also attend that convention. Have you any ideas?"
"I do. If this indeed is the motive of Inquien, he will be disappointed. Now if you will excuse me, I must send a messenger to the local journalists so that the periodical can notify the public of changes."
Dereusse held her hand in both of his and nodded. "Your courtesy will be rewarded if I can help it."