I've Lost My Mind, also Snippets


Guess what, I reached 90000 words. Guess what else, I'm only halfway through the draft. I think that all writers must be partially insane to subject themselves to the sweet torture of writing a book. And then rewriting it anywhere between 1 and 100 times until they are happy with it, which is unusual. 
Why, you ask, do we do it? 
Answer: I have absolutely no idea. 

Also, teeny tiny announcement. When I finally finish this draft (2), I shall be writing the next one (3) in third person.  

But now, without further ado, here are a few selections from my own personal torture device. 

“And how can we be sure she will not ruin everything with some act of rash nobility in which  she tries to rescue us from Apophis?”


It is the possibility, however slight, of survival that drives people to half mad displays of screams and tears. Hopelessness comes with its own sort of comfort;


“…It’s not that I am not worried. I am. Very worried indeed. But does Nefru expect me to  throw myself about and scream?”


When Ukani wasn’t trying to ruin Nefru’s life, and Nefru wasn’t trying to ‘fix’ Ukani, they made an excellent team.


“It is my hope that he will soon realize the futility of his plan and follow us,” I said calmly. “He is under the impression that there may be other doorways in this place, as it is likely the heart of the shrine. He has had a dream of sorts which has convinced him of this.”“A dream,” he said disbelievingly.I nodded sympathetically. “Yes, an unreliable source of information. But as I said, if we continue to the surface, he will soon abandon this plan.”


“I do not appreciate being treated as a helpless child, Ukani. If you do not wish to tell me, just say so, and I will not press the matter further.”


“It doesn’t matter. Anhur and I were merely trying to talk Nefru out of another one of his ignorant schemes to get us all killed.”


“You’re harsh and unfeeling,” he said. I winced, I knew he meant it in a joking manner, but that did not mean that he was wrong.“I do not mean to be,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands folded in my lap. Ukani sighed. “At least it could never be mistaken for hatred. As cruel as you can be, one could never doubt your love.”


And yet here was Ukani, lineage high enough to please any father, but far from the quiet,  reserved, gentle being who had waited in the shadows of my young mind.






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