I've received some great feedback from a mate of mine who's 'in the biz' and have made some cosmetic changes to the book. Things like axing the prologue (which I agree wasn't really working for the book) and rearranging how Gemmy's 'back story' fits in.
I've also been encouraged to get my work out there. So, while I'm doing things like checking for typos, sending manuscripts to publishers, I'll post a few short excerpts from the book as they're tweaked.
This excerpt is from Chapter 7, "Learning" and features Mr Grubskirm. I'm doing some sketches of him now and will post them with a full description of him soon.
Enjoy!
‽
Excerpt from Strange Chronicles: The Mighty Orange-Peel by Themo H. Peel
" ‘The
Mighty Orange-Peel(sic) strikes again,’ came a giggle from the back of the
class.
Gemmy wheeled
around to meet his accuser but couldn’t tell who it had come from.
The buzz from the electricity pouring
through the room seemed to add merit and fuel to his anger. He wanted to cry. He wanted to run. A silent scream bubbled and built
inside of him like a train drawing nearer. He could feel the heat of it breaking
around him, a faint fizzle and crackle leaving a metallic taste in his mouth as
he breathed through gritted teeth.
‘Yes, it appears Mr
Westhill is keen on surpassing his menace beginning with my classroom,’ croaked Mr Grubskirm.
Then it all
exploded.
It was
imperceptible at first; the slow rise in temperate, the shift towards weightlessness
that all metal objects began to take. And then, Pfzzat!
‘Ow!’ Rena Wade
cried. ‘Ow, ow! Something stung me!’ she cried as another tiny arc of
electricity formed between the braces on her teeth.
‘Ah! What the
hell!’ Janich Trus shouted as he got a tiny cobalt bite from the outlet under
his table.
The big display at
the front of the class was the first to go blank. Then the lights. Then the
desk reading tablets.
‘Ah!’ Gemmy
screamed and dropped to his knees.
The train had arrived! The pain in his head
had returned and threatened to break out the front of his skull.
Fortunately, the
shouts and swearing from the other students covered Gemmy’s individual
performance. Sparks
flew from every desk’s console, electric fingers reaching out, grasping and
raking at the students.
‘Everyone! Please
walk towards the exit. We seem to have an electrical fault. Please leave
calmly!’ Mr Grubskirm called trying to soothe the pandemonium, electricity popping
around the room. Then the lights exploded in unison, glass and plastic raining
down as the class let out a collective yelp.
Gemmy looked up
from his own stupor in time to see Landa Rains’ homework tablet explode in her
face as she tried to unplug it from the desk. She screamed as she clutched at her
face, blood pouring through her fingers.
Gemmy stood up and
lifted Landa to her feet, cradling her under his arms. He turned to find Sem
and saw her leading two other girls towards the door. She had her arms out using
her back as a shield from the explosions.
Gemmy walked Landa
to the door covering her head with his hand. She was crying, heavy sobs pulling
at her lungs as she tried to breathe and panic all at once. Her mind is chaos, he thought, feeling
the buzz of her thoughts on his hand.
He got Landa into
the hall and turned back to the classroom. Every student had already made it
into the hallway. By now, students from other classes had begun to emerge as
they wondered what the commotion was.
Mr Grubskirm was
still in the classroom trying to rescue items from his drawer. Fires had broken
out at the back of the class as beakers full of chemicals began to explode
adding fireballs to the destruction that carved its way through the room.
‘Mr Grubskirm! Come
on!’ Gemmy screamed as he dashed towards the man. A large beaker that was
sitting at the front of the class, presumably for that day’s lesson, suddenly caught
fire and exploded, the force knocking Gemmy to the floor. Why aren’t the sprinklers coming on? Oh, they’re electric.
Gemmy sat up and
felt his forearm bursting with pain. He looked down and saw large shards of
glass stuck into his arm. Better that
than my face.
‘Gemmy!’ Sem’s
voice came from behind him. ‘Are you ok?’
‘Yeah. But, Mr
Grubskirm,’ he choked.
Sem lifted him to
his feet and they looked about. As the fire spread to the front of the class
the students’ desk tablets began to explode sending bits of metal flying
everywhere. The chemical explosion had lit Mr Grubskirm’s desk ablaze but they could
see him crumpled into a ball in the corner below the large screen. It was
sparking from the heat and the corrosive liquid seeping into its wiring.
‘Mr Grubskirm!’
both he and Sem screamed!
The man looked up,
whimpering cradling a stack of papers.
‘My work,’ he
moaned.
‘Mr Grubskirm we
have to go!’ Gemmy yelled inching towards him, wary of the screen that looked
ready to blow.
Mr Grubskirm rolled
himself to his feet, wincing as he stood. Gemmy could see where the chemical
explosion had burned through his shirt, his skin a sizzling mass of red.
The man hobbled
towards he and Sem just as a loud boom erupted from the back of the class.
Gemmy looked just in time to see one of the tablet covers flying through the
air like a Rhe’zan throwing star.
‘NO!’ he screamed
and reached his hand out towards Mr Grubskirm. A fizzle burned in the back of
Gemmy’s head and he could feel the metal plate flying through the air, its
smooth surface reverberating waves of energy back towards him. He pushed.
The arc of the
flying metal curved just enough to miss Mr Grubskirm’s head, its flight still
close enough to nick the edge of the man’s neck and knock him to his knees.
Gemmy stared at the air where the cover had
flown, a blade that had been determined to embed itself in Mr Grubskirm’s head.
He couldn’t help but realise that he had been the one to change its trajectory.
He turned to Sem
and she was staring back at him. Her eyes, her narrow eyes, told the breadth of
her thoughts. This was you! This really was you!
And as they looked
at each other a final crackle and pop came from the large display. When they turned to look, they could no longer see Mr Grubskirm, just a
heap of flaming black glass and wires."
I'm easing myself back into the writing game and fighting back against my shadowy inner critic by dipping into my first love - drawing. So, the bestiary has become my refuge where I get to write and draw and fantasise about all the fantastic mythological creatures of Scotland. And I'm pretty sure understanding the eachy might be the key to figuring out one of Scotland's greatest myths. Can you tell what it is yet?
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