I have seen some writers post snippets from their work-in-progress (WIP) on their blogs last week and found that a cool idea. So, here’s one from my manuscript. (Is my manuscript close to being finished or is it a WIP? The answer to that depends upon the day you’re asking me the question; and that is a topic for a whole series of posts… so, moving on…)
Where was I? Oh, yes, my manuscript — it is a multicultural fantasy, targeted at middle grade children (ages 8 to 13). This also sort of acts as a precursor to the topics I’d like to discuss in the next few days…
Comments? Suggestions? Critiques? They are very welcome – please send them my way!
wait for her mother to join us so they could all start grilling us.
kept fidgeting and looking at the doorway, as if she couldn’tMeenagchi
“Mother!” she finally yelled, making me jump. “Come along,
Mother – everyone is waiting for you.”
“You have to learn to be patient, Daughter,” her father chided her gently.
“Yes, Father.” Meenagchi lowered her head, but her tone made
it obvious that it was something she was reminded of constantly.
For a few minutes everyone was quiet. Then Meenagchi suddenly
turned to Nitu, her eyes intent. “Why would you wish to wander around
in the company of two boys?”
At first, Nitu looked confused; then her face lit up with amusement
and she grinned in my direction. Ankit pressed his hands to his mouth, trying
hard to smother his giggles.
The blood rushed up to my face and I glared at Ankit — not that it was
effective in shutting him up or anything. Then I looked down at myself. Here
I was, dressed in a drab pair of pants and a pale colored t-shirt, with my
long hair pulled into a tight ponytail. By contrast, Nitu was dressed in
a bright-colored skirt and a pretty blouse, and her long hair tumbled
loosely over her shoulders.
I found it annoying, not to mention humiliating, to have to justify my
sense of style, or lack of it, to someone I met only minutes ago.
I looked up and stammered an explanation. “Um… I’m a girl, too. Girls …
can dress this way, too, in my country.”
“Really? You are a girl? It never would have occurred to me.” Meenagchi
burst into gales of laughter.
Frowning, I looked away from her.
“She doesn’t mean that, Jiya!” Nitu poked me playfully in the ribs,
trying to pacify me.
Cheliyan, who had been observing the whole exchange with interest,
turned to his sister. “Will you ever learn to behave properly?” However, from
his reddened face I could tell that he had originally mistaken me for a boy,
too. Just great!
Grinning, Meenagchi flicked away a lock of her hair in response to her