It might say NATIONAL novel writing month but the truth is its should actually say Worldwide because trust me there's people from everywhere participating. I thought maybe about fleshing out the Bulitia story for this one but on further reflection, I didn't think I could get 50,000 words out of him, much as he's a great character. So I decided to do my CINDERELLA BY ANY OTHER NAME story about a girl called Shadya who is a refugee from Somalia living in Kenya. Its not as sad and oppressed as it sounds...yet, it is. Its really about family and how far one would or should go to give of oneself to one's family. Wow, I managed to summarise. Awesome.
I'm going to leave a small excerpt here, and what I need from you is to ask me and remind me and push me to finish this story within the month of November. Nanowrimo books are generally free and mine will be the same I think. Follow my progress here, on smashwords and on the wrimo site.
Life is A Bitch and then...
The beat of the music
was like a hammer to her brain, pounding and pounding until her nerves felt
like ash. She wanted to get out of this place but Amina was still busy flirting
with the dude in the pretentious green fedora and yep - Shadya peeked downward
- he had white shoes. I mean…everyone knew that any guy worth their salt never
wore white shoes. Amina was giggling at what ever the guy was saying. Shadya caught sight of his friend sidling
toward her out of the corner of her eye.
Nope.
She was not going to play this game. She wasn’t the spare, or the co-pilot,
flight attendant; whatever people called the friend one went with when they
were going to hit on people. She was here strictly to make sure Amina behaved
herself. It was the only way to make sure they weren’t both married off to the
nearest willing chump forthwith. Shadya had every intention of completing her
degree before she agreed to be anyone’s wife. And sure her father was willing
to entertain her fancies for now; but if he ever caught wind of any misbehaviour,
both of their lives were over.
She
hadn’t even wanted to come to this club. Amina had just really been wailing to
her about how it was her friend’s birthday and they never got to go anywhere
and yada yada yada. Until Shadya’s choices had narrowed down to strangling her
right there and then; or give in to her begging and pleading. Shadya had really
had to think about her options before she concluded that she really couldn’t
kill Amina at this time. She hadn’t violated any sharia laws after all…not yet. Nothing requiring murder at least.
Her mother might frown on her committing fratricide for any reason less than
that.
The
guy’s friend was sitting right next to her now. Shadya studiously ignored him.
“Hi”,
the guy said. Shadya stared into the middle distance, willing the music to
explode her head right now.
“I
like your hijab. Very stylish”, the guy said leaning in to talk directly into
her ear. Shadya turned her eyes only to give him a glare. Clearly non-verbal
communication was not his strong
suit. What did he even want?
“Leave
me be”, she growled tossing her head the other way as she picked up her soda
and sipped determinedly as she watched the dancers on the dance floor.
“Do
you want to dance?” the guy persisted. Shadya contemplated pouring her
drink over his head. Amina was throwing
glances her way that Shadya knew were reproachful. Her sister was always
throwing herself at men; and she fully expected Shadya to do the same when they
were together. It drove her mad. She didn’t deign to answer the guy.
“Look,
Shadya”, the guy said making her stiffen and turn toward him. How had he known
her name? “I don’t want us to start off on the wrong foot but I have to say
that you’re being really rude right now”. Shadya could only stare at him in
shock.
“Nobody
asked you to talk to me”, she said in her surprise.
The
guy frowned and glanced back at Amina, “Your sister asked me to”, he said,
looking sincerely puzzled that Shadya wasn’t up to date with the news. Shadya
laughed out loud.
“Well
you can just go tell Amina thanks but no thanks”, She told him. He stuck his
hand out.
“My
name is Gregory Kariuki, ahsalaam aleikum”, he said.
Shadya
looked at his hand like it possibly might be a hunk of bacon accidentally put
on her plate.
Pick up my other books from smashwords here: http://bit.ly/1Lrq7ob
No comments:
Post a Comment