I announced my ambitious goal of completing a first draft of a 70,000 word novel by the end of July, and I keep falling further and further behind, although I did finally come up with a title: Weaver. That's how backwards I am.
Last week I promised a piece of fiction, and I never got around to writing anything for today's post. What I do have for you is a bit from my WIP that kind of sets up the story. Enjoy!
“The universe is like a trillion bits of string laid out next to each other and then wound up into a ball,” someone had once told her. “Each string is a seperate line and when they are rolled up, they touch and mingle.” The teacher had only a single piece of string, but she rolled it up between her fingers until there was a tiny ball. “It's a mess, all the different points touching each other here and there. There are different colors and widths, different fibers. What we do is unravel the ball and find the string we like best for a situation.”
These days though, Myra was finding that there were fewer strings, and the ones that were left had been broken so that worlds ended aburptly. When she ran into one of these she would jerk awake, anxious and dizzy.