Writerly Things: Newest Project/Character Reveal!

As we're nearing the release of my newest book, The Revolution {The Tales of Tarsurella #4}, my mind has been quietly asking to explore new forms of creativity.

As much as I love The Tales of Tarsurella, sometimes that old cycle of write-edit-format-edit-promote-launch-sell-rinse-repeat can leave my "inner creative" feeling a tad burned out.

Sometimes, I feel the overwhelming need to turn off my inner critic, throw all caution to the wind, abandon all the rules, and create something BRAND NEW.

And so, last month, this is exactly what happened. I welcomed a cute little plot bunny into my yard (usually I try my very hardest to ward them off: plot bunnies multiply faster than one could imagine!) and said, "Aww, this looks fun. Let's go for it. Nobody has to know. This story can be purely for my own enjoyment, with no intentions of publishing. Let's return to the carefree playground of writing and have some FUN."

I don't know exactly how many pages deep I was in, when I decided this must be shared with the world. (Or at least, my little corner of the Instagram world, haha!)

Last Friday I decided to share what I've been working on, introduce some of the characters, and give a sneak peak into the opening scene!

A handful of you asked to see it on my blog as well...so here we are!

~*~

YEAR: 3033 LOCATION: EUROPE

Humanity has survived the Third World War, but not without some major political shakeups...

In this "hope-filled dystopian" popular culture takes ques from their past, and returns to a more winsome era of dress, style and speech, while still embracing all the modern technology at their fingertips...

This unique genre was actually inspired by my friend Alexandria. She's working on a "dystopian historical" where her world is so far into the future, they revert back to some of our favorite time periods - AND I LOVED THAT IDEA. Sooooo, I had to borrow a few of her unique genre ideas. Hehe. Thanks Alex. ;)

MEET THE CHARACTERS

As stated on Instagram, all these character inspo photos were taken from Pinterest, I don't own any of them. I'm not going to share much about the characters at this point, because I don't want to give away any spoilers, but I thought it would be fun to at least share a little! :)

AZALEA CUNNNINGTON

Reporter for The Royal Times. Her parents went missing two years ago...

KIT PETERS

Underground Operative. Cheeky, fun-loving, and far too witty to be pegged as a spy...

MARIE DARLINGTON

Handmaiden to her Royal Highness. Despite her Father's deepest wishes to see her well-married, Marie has other plans...

NITRO FAUBOURG

A well-to-do member of high class Gavallian society. His reputation is larger than his last name.

POPPY CUNNINGTON

Azalea's baby sister. While girls are fighting to make ends meet, she is employed in a garment factory.

PRINCESS MIRELLE OF GAVALLIA

Young and naïve. The most valuable chess piece in the King's political game. ~*~

What do you think of the characters so far? Comment below and let me know! <3

SCENE ONE: SNEAK PEEK

Callused hands work for their bread rations. Skilled fingers bounce from key to key. The rhythmic clackity-clack releases a trail of nonsense beneath her palms. Azalea Cunnington doesn’t believe a word she’s writing. She never does. But that doesn’t stop her keys from singing King Absalom’s high praises.

“Her Royal Highness floated onto the marble balcony sporting a gown of peach tule. A vision of angels.” His familiar voice meets her ear, “Was it peach? My sources tell me her Highness sported an electric red gown.”

Azalea stiffens. He’s hovering over her shoulder. Again. “Mind your own deadlines.”

“Yes, my sources were quite adamant it was red. Fiery, crimson red, matching the swirling glass of choice Verisian wine in her hand.”

Azalea’s hand swats him away like a fly.

“You’d do well to mind my sources.” Kit Peters points a finger in her direction before shifting back to his assigned domain, a warn-out typewriter of his own, just three desks down. “My boys know what they’re talkin’ about!”

Your ‘boys’ were probably too sloshed to tell the difference between her Royal Highness and a milk maiden. Azalea bites her plump, bottom lip. Her deep, brown eyes, recenter on the words she’s churning out.

“Non!” A small cry of distress rises from the small, un petite, French woman seated beside Azalea. She continues expressing her displeasure through a series of foreign words.

“Is everything alright?” Azalea’s long, auburn locks fall over her shoulder, as she leans forward, voice low. While it isn’t unusual for loud-mouths like Kit to shout about the office, Azalea’s prefers to respect the space each writer needs to complete their daily tasks.

“Non, madam.” Worry floods from her large blue eyes, “I have broken a key!” She lifts the letter E up as proof. “Monsieur Montrelle will be so angry, I will never finish-”

Azalea scoops into her leather satchel resting on the wooden floor of The Royal Times and hands the girl who cannot be any older than sixteen, a replacement key. “It happens all the time. These typewriters have seen better days.”

A clear, glowing face of baby-smooth skin, lights up. “Merci, mademoiselle!” A string of excited French follows, “How will I ever thank you?!”

You could begin by offering me some peace and quiet, so I may finish my work and return home to Poppy. Azalea keeps her cross thoughts to herself and resets her attention on her final paragraph.

Such vanity. Azalea struggles to keep her thoughts reigned in, as they betray the very words her fingers type. To spend hours noodling with words, searching the treasure-trove of the human mind for just the right ones, all for the dramatized description of what her Highness wore, ate, and drank at last night’s party. Naive citizens will drink in every word, cheering for the cleaver writer behind The Royal Time’s juiciest gossip column. All the while, the real A. L. Cunnington scrapes and claws to keep her baby sister properly fed, thanks to the Crown’s ghastly treason against Gavallia’s middle class.

The sound of the thick, wooden office door thwacking against the wall, causes Azalea’s mind to jolt to attention. She dare not think such rebellious thoughts when Mr. Montrelle, editor and chief of the Crown’s greatest propaganda factory, is afoot.

“Peters!” Mr. Montrelle’s commanding voice rumbles through the small, stuffy room. “I want that piece on the Princes of Ire, now!”

“Yes sir!” Kit’s unhumanly chipper voice sounds far too eager as he rips a sheet from his typewriter and nearly skips across the room.

Azalea’s jaw clenches. How does that young man possess such wild energy? He can’t possibly be more than a year or two older than I. One would never guess he’s been writing the past eight hours. Blurry eyes beg for a break, but Azalea doesn’t offer herself the luxury. With Mr. Montrelle returning from his late-afternoon hors d’oeurve break, every muscle stiffens. Even the smallest glance in the wrong direction could result in a painful smack of the ruler upon her dry, cracked knuckles.

“Mmm hmm, mmm hmm.” The stout, gruff man, scours over Kit’s paper. Is Mr. Peters never nervous? I would be shaking high up to my knee socks right about now. “I see. Come, step into my office.”

The slamming door causes the new girl, Miss Frenchie (Azalea hasn’t caught her name yet), to jump.

Azalea knows better than to be startled by such noises. Mr. Montrelle’s bite, is far worse than his bark.

~*~

What do you think?! Let me know if you enjoyed the opening scene! :)