I’m not doing NaNo.

I’m not. I said I wouldn’t and I’m not. I just happen to be writing very fast, during November. If I happen to make it close to the 50k word mark towards the end of the month then I might consider validating.

In the meantime, I thought I’d share some of what I’m writing. Not every day, but most days, while NaNo is on. I told you about NaNo here.

[image error]The house was warm and cosy. The bed was far too comfy and the curtains closed against the dark. Sunlight would filter softly through the fabric in a couple of hours and it was Elois Young’s twelfth birthday. She rolled onto her back, gazing at the fabric draped across the room, hiding the stained metal ceiling. She didn’t remember much about the crossing, only the bright lights that hurt her eyes when she woke from her long sleep and it being chaos getting everyone into the right places for landing.

That had been three years ago and on some days Elois still longed to return to old Earth, where the lights were bright all day and all night and the noise was constant. She reached to push tangled, brown curls away from her eyes. The air felt cooler, the seasons were changing again, turning to Autumn.

A thump was followed by the rattle of something falling across the roof above.

“Stupid ’Corns!” Elois muttered, not daring to shout this early in the morning. If she woke anyone too early they’d be grumpy all day. She stretched out a hand to twitch the curtains. Still mostly dark and the night sky outside was scattered with the last of the night’s bright stars. They were beginning to fade as the night lifted and dawn approached. She let the curtain drop back into place and wriggled back under the blankets, trapping warmth and hoping for a while longer before she had to get up.

“Elois!” her father called. “Your turn to do the fire.”

She groaned. “Yes, Dad.” Rolling to the edge of the bed, she eased a leg out and brushed against the floor. Cold. She lurched to the side of the bed, groping for slippers to slide her feet into. Not warm enough. Dragging a blanket with her, she rummaged in a drawer for socks. Once her feet felt warmer, Elois pulled on layers of clothing.

A small passage from yesterday’s writing. Elois is a first lander colonist on a new world. Her family shipped out when she was nine years old and I’m exploring her new home with her.

Wordcount is currently at approx 2100.