A real life book!
Not, like, me me. Not my face or me as a character or anything. My writing.
But me! In a book!
I’m mildly excited.
So, basically, Alsina Publishing (the parent of LingoBites, that the Amelia Brighton stories are published on) is putting together an anthology series. The first one is themed around animals.
About 2 and 1/2 weeks ago, I got an email from my publisher (which never gets less fun to say) that told me about the aforementioned anthology. She said they needed 1-2 more stories to round out the collection. They needed to be between 300 and 1200 words, beginner level, and written in the present tense. Would I be interested in writing one? I, obviously, said yes.
So, I wrote and sent in this story:
What’s in a Name
I can hardly feel anything anymore.
Eyes can’t open.
Can’t make a sound.
I’m waking up now. The numbness is fading, and, even though I didn’t think it was possible, the coldness is even worse.
I feel water on me, trickling through my fur. That must be because I’m warming up.
As I lay longer, I’m realizing I am not in the snow like before. I’m wrapped in something soft. Soft and warm.
I can hear voices above me. They sound far away and sad. Or angry. It’s hard to tell. But they speak human, so I’m not sure what they’re saying.
I just barely crack one eye open. A boy is holding me. I think he is young, but it is hard to tell with humans. I can’t keep my eye open for long, so I shut it.
The boy is running, not too fast. I feel us go up, and suddenly I feel toasty warmness. Cracking one eye just barely again, I see that we aren’t outside any more.
The boy keeps yelling. I can hear him better now, but I still don’t know what he is saying. Other voices join him, more than the one before. A girl voice, too.
The warmness I felt coming in the house increases. I open my eyes for just a second. I see a fire. The boy has taken me in front of a fire.
Feeling is starting to come back to me.
I feel something a little rough, but dry and warm, petting across my fur. It takes the water that came from the snow and ice out of my fur. It feels nice.
I stretch one paw out a little bit, enjoying the feeling.
The voices around me react to the paw moving loudly, startling me a little. I pull it back and give a small “meow,” wishing they’d be quieter.
The boy who took me here – I recognize his voice – makes a “shhhh” sound, and the other voices get quieter.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in front of the fire, but I need to be here a little longer.
The time is passing slowly, but I feel warm enough to move a little more. I roll a bit in the dry, rough cloth the humans put me in. The scratchy feeling is nice. I “meow” again, happier.
Finally, I open my eyes and look into the face of the boy who rescued me.
He smiles. “Her name is Lucky,” he says.
I don’t know what he said, exactly, but a cat always knows when she hears her name.
My name is Lucky.
“I love you,” I say to my boy.
I know he hears only a meow, but his smile getting bigger tells me he knows.
He loves me, too.
I sent that to my publisher (yep, still fun to say) who emailed me back saying that it was too abstract for language learners. Did I have any other ideas?
I sighed, and said “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”
So I wrote a new one that I can’t show you (because I think this one will get accepted, and then I’ll be contractually obligated not to show it to you, and also I’ll want you to buy the book so that I’ll have money and renown) that I think is actually quite good!
I wrote a first draft that sucked, but then my dad, mom, and I punched it for three hours and I quite like the finished result.
This is all. I will keep you posted.
If it’s in a book.
You all need to buy it.
You love me, right?
Also, I am possessing the excitement.