Novel Teaser Number Two

As of last night (end of day three), I am up to the novel 8,566 words. I expect to be over 15,000 words by the end of Friday, and passing the half way mark (25,000 words by the middle of next week.

For teaser the second, I decided to share something a little darker and less sentimental than the previous excerpt. In this section, A cyberpunk venue and zombies first appear. I hate when that happens in real life.

Jacob walked down the long corridor. Very little changed as he walked. The end of the aisle was so far away that ten minutes of walking did not make the end look any closer. Shelves as high as he could see, with crate staked upon crate upon crate. No doubt the crates were full of bargain priced stuff that everyone needs. Jacob thought as he walked, and after another twenty minutes, he came to the conclusion that he knew absolutely nothing about where he was.

The longer he walked, the more he accepted that he wasn’t asleep, he wasn’t in the hospital, and, happily, he was no longer attached to a urinary catheter. Once he noticed that, more than anything else, he wanted to find a place to take a piss like a normal person.

Only moments after that thought, he found a sign with an arrow below the words, “RESTROOMS THIS WAY” He followed the arrow to a doorway wedged between two stacks of crates. The doorway lead to a short and narrow corridor with two doors, one on each side. Jacob entered the door labeled “GENTLEMEN’S” on the right side of the hall.

As Jacob walked back out the restroom door, he noticed that, in the few minutes it took him to pee and reflect on the pleasure of peeing once again, a new sign had appeared on the outside of the door. The sign said, “RESTROOMS FOR CUSTOMER USE ONLY. ALL OTHERS WILL BE PROSECUTED AS HOMOSEXUALS”.

Jacob read the sign, and looked over his shoulder. Seeing no one else, and turned to read the sign a second time. Nothing changed on a second look, he had read the sign correctly the first time. He turned back to the main corridor and began walking in the same direction, hoping he would eventually find an exit. All he wanted to do was leave this strange and spacious yet confining structure.

As he continued down the aisle, Jacob was confronted by more strange signs. He passed a table topped by an empty wicker basket, under a sign that proclaimed “SAMPLING WITHOUT SUFFICIENT INTENT TO PURCHASE WILL BE PROSECUTED”.

After about thirty more steps down the aisle, he saw a sign that said “MANDITORY COMPLIANCE ASSESSMENT, STOP FOR INSPECTION HERE”. The sign made Jacob even more uneasy than he already felt, so he increased his pace as he walked past the sign.

“YOU!” Jacob heard as he felt a heavy hand grab his shoulder from behind. Jacob lunged forward, freeing his shoulder. He tried to run as he felt a hand around his wrist yank him in a wide circle, like a roller derby queen cracking the whip. As he was whirled around, he saw four weak chinned and nondescript but slightly flabby and widely built men in blue jumpsuits moving toward him. Each jumpsuit had a patch just below the left collar bone, embossed with the phrase “Welcome to Tramlaw Where We Protect and Serve” in a nauseating shade of pink. The men looked vaguely unhealthy.

The men made a circle around Jacob, and asked several questions simultaneously, in broken phrases. As Jacob had experienced with cops all his life, they asked questions without expecting answers. ”What you here for? You not buy? You not buy, why you here? You homosexual? You here break law! You criminal! You need punishment? Want trouble you? You go prison?”

Bill Burroughs I ain't.
James Joyce I ain't.

This is becoming a great process for defining a self identity. Each time I need to exercise a different writing skill (like, y'know action, thought exposition, pathos,etc.) I find another great writer that I ain't.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.