Hi, so today I’ve decided to not go to The daily post to get prompted for my blog post. Instead, I went to Writing Practise 100 exercises which I had bookmarked long ago but never really used. And I chose to do one that popped up at me.
This is from the Ten secrets to write better…
write the first draft in one sitting using the tips above. Then share in the comments below etc. etc.
Behold: This is the first chapter of my novel that I am currently working on. I haven’t edit this yet, but I probably will over the next few days especially on spelling mistakes. Please also note, that I have been reading Sherlock Holmes when I wrote this…
Chapter one: The party
Ivrick’s point of view
I woke up in sweats, having had the same recurring dream that had forced me to wake up, confused, scared and out of breathe. This time was worse, because even when I rose to the surface of conciousness, my brother was suffocating me in real life. I couldn’t breathe here nor there, in reality, nor in the nightmares that kept me awake.
“champeron,” i gasped “please…”
“wet noggie!” he laughed, putting his wet finger into my ear. I hoped it was his finger and not something else, and i hoped it was his siliva that made it wet and not snot, or something from outside.
My brother was a head taller than me and about 50 kgs heavier than me. He had me inned to the bed and was blocking the pathway of my air supply. But then after the nogie, and my disgustedness, he got off the bed, off me and i could breathe again. Well, tmhat moment of sudden relief was gone because he left the room with a stink bomb. His very own concocted recipe for “clearing the room” or just making his brother choke to death.
I covered myself with my blanket but my blanket had the dusgusting smell and was keeping it inkside. I then stuck y head out the window and gasped for asir.
Outside, almost everyone was up, awake and about, busy for the preparations for the party. The party was that very night, but we vikings liked to plan late, or rasther, not plan at all and leave everything last minute. As someone once said, “it’s an occupational hazard”.
“Ivrick! Get down from there,” My father’s voice was like a toger’s roar, evenw hen he was “tlaking normally”, but this time, he really was shouting for me from downstairs and the wole house shook, or at least, I did. I put on my leather coat and rushed downstairs.
“Ivrick,” said my father, the chief of the whole villag,e and a well respected man.
“Why aren’t you dressed,” he aske dme “You’re the star of the show. Get dressed for goodness sakes man,”
“I want to go out for a bit,” i said “Could i dress for tonight later?”
My father huffed at me but he said “yes” by a small nod of his heasd and a grunt.
“What?” champreron said, at the eating table. “He gets to go out? Doesn’t he have to help witht he party as well?”
“no,” said father “But you have a lot of work to do so hurry up your food,”
I chuckled, grabbing my bag and any other last minute tihngs. Mos tof my things tha ti beeded were in my bag anyway. My tyounge,r and much nicer sister was at the kitchen making muffins and they smelt heavenly. I kissed my sister on the forehead. I wished i could’ve taken her with me, but i was already late as it was.
“Bye Graciallida,” i said
“Bye big brother,” she smiled at me. Her smile was the sasme replica as my mother’s.
I got out of the house, smelling fresh air, plus a bit of this and that; smoke from the shop where they smoked pork, bread from the balery and other people’s houses who were also making goods, like my sister, and the tinsiest smell of blood, proably from the many bars on our street alone. I went slightly out of the village, to the far morth-east side of town. There was a green meadow and a tree with lot sof leaves and that gave a very nice shade. I sat under the tree and leasded my bAACK ON its rather uncomfortable and sturdy trunk. I got out my notebook and pen from my bag and started tow rite.
I had the dream again. It never goes away even after all these years in which it’s been 8 years since my mother’s death. Well, i should really say murder, though it was war time and aparently, any killing during war time, was not murder but an act of defense. But it that was true, why killl my mother? She was a woman, did not even use a weapon. I guess she wouldn’ve been alive if we had been fighting againt othe rmen and not dragons.
I stopped writing. There was a rustling in the bushes. Something was inside it, watching me. I dropped my pen and slowly reached for my knife which was in my pelt. If it was a dragon, i hoped it was a small one that i could kill with a knife and my bare hands. But then the rustling stopped, the beast was going away from me, in the other direction. I stared at the bush, with my ffinger on my knife. Then i sheathed my knife and picke dup my pen and begin to write again.
Today, the whole village is celebrating my birthday. It is the day wher ei finally become a man and take my father’s place as chief, that is, if i am ready. This is decided by the elders which consists of the three oldest man in the village and a girl whom no one had ever seen before.
The bells chimed, and the vikings hollered and shouted loudly, cheering and whooping, marking the beginning of the party. I stuffed my book and pen in my bag, slung the bag over my shoulder and rushed over tot he main centre called The Square. It was called the square because the place was “squared shaped” and it was were we all went and gathered to.
My father stood at the podium. Behind him were the three elders adn a girl, who was masked in a cloth. Champeron, my brother was to my father’s left, a little futher away fromt he people’s eyes. My fsther saw me and gestured me to come upp to him. Champeron gave me a stink eye which made my heart shiver and i shuddered. People made way for me to go up to the podium stage.
I waved at the p[eope and mouthed a “hello”. My father took my raised hand and lifted it up higher in the air. The people cheered.
“This marks the day that my first born son becomes a man,” boomed chief vangiveaway.
“Let us make this day a day of celebration and also of great testing to my boy,” He turned to me and let go off my hand.
“son,” he said, grabbing hold my my shoulder, which immediately sent spikes and shooting pain. “You will be greatly tested throughout your adult life but remember to face dange rin the face, never give ijn to fear. You are a man now, be proud of it,”
He let go off my shoulder which was throwing spasms and then raised the arm of the shoulder again up high for all to see and every cheerred and clapped.
“However,’ said my father when the noise died down “i am not quite ready to let go of my tite as chief,”
The people laughed, well, some of them. Champeron may have smirked or perhaps he wwas still sowling ast me. I felt his eyes brunignthe back of my neck.
“So, if you want this title,” said chef vangiveaway “You’ll have to either kill me or prove yourself a leader and a winner,”
At that, my brother coughed; “Loser!”
I pretended i didn’t hear and looked the other way, though people cod see mu brunig cheeks. My father didn’t hear him at all, and continued in his booming voice;
“Let the official ceremony begin!”
The whole village erupted with roars; roars of cheering and hollering and clapping. I saw my younger sister, in her apron and oven mitts, shouting at the top of her voice ansd waving at me. I smiled and waved back with my free arm.
She was shouting the loudest, I semmed to me.
All at once, The Square tranfored into the main attraction: food. The women vikings carried the tables and laid out the food for everyone to enjoy.- except for me and my hunting party. We wren’t allowed to eat in order to motivate us for tonight when we catch our first kill as a team. This would be my fiirst hunt and firs ttime tha ti wold be hunt leader.
Chamoeron knocked my back from behind and my sore poor arm wriiggeed in pain.
“Guess you’ll won’t be eating yet,” siad champeron “i’ll eat your share for you thn,”
“I’m sure you will,” i said
He laughed, and skipped over to the table where they had all different kinds of pizza and beer. Soemone tugged on my cloak. It was my younger sister, GRaciallida.
She smiled up at me.
My arm was sore ad felt like it was pop out of my socket, but i bent downa nd lifte her up in the air.
“How’s my favourite viking?” i asked
“Fantastic,” she said “You won’t mbe eating te muffins tha ti aked for you,”
I put on the sho off looking to my left na dmy right to ake sure noone was awatching. Then i leaned in and whisere din ehr easr.
“I’ll pack some in my bag for the hunt tonight,” i said
“I cna ring snakcs surely,” i said “otherwise starvation would kill me before i can even hunt and that is not how i’m goin gout,”
She hugged me tightly.
“Don’t ever go out,” she said
I laughed, patted her back and then set her down onthe ground agfain.
Now,” i said, arms on hips “You,” i touched her nose and she gigled “Have got to get sometihng iny our belly,” I touched her belly and she caught my hand and pretend ed to eat it.
“Wwhile i have spemtihng to do,” i said “I am busy,”
She hugge dme agiana dnt hen we said our good byes.
I then went out of The square and into the main street of the village. Most vikings, when in my situation, would have used this time to prepare for battle,t sharpen their swords, or practise fighting, or even kill something small just to tkae the edge off. But where I was gong, i knew might not have helpe dme phyysically or in an obvious way, but hope dit would help me in a different way. I went into The Loner’s bar.