Before I get to today’s snippet, I have some other related news. I’ve decided to take part in A round of Words in 80 Days (ROW80) when the next round begins on the 6 October. I’ve also volunteered to be a sponsor, so I’m really looking forward to the opportunity.
Right, onto WIPpet Wednesday. For my snippet this week I added up the digits in today’s date and came up with 24 sentences. I’ve used the female protagonist this time, and it’s actually from the introduction – something I’ve been struggling with for a while. I’m not sure I like the first person POV for Brooke. I’m not even sure I like the name! She was originally Audrey, and that’s who she is in my head. I had to change it because it’s the name of my grandmother and for reasons that are too long and complicated to go into, *sigh of relief from my readers* this seemed inappropriate. The story works best when told from two different perspectives, given they’re from two different worlds, so changing the POV has only added to the complications.
Anyway, let’s get on with it, before you lose the will to live…or certainly to read 🙂
When some people learn the origins of their birth, information that changes the course of their future and makes sense of their past, it fortifies them. It suddenly makes perfect sense, the fact they don’t belong. There’s a reason they feel disconnected.
That’s not how it was for me. I’ve never felt like an outsider, never wondered why I didn’t fit in. I assimilate to whatever environment I’m in, and I assimilate quickly.
I feel a connection to people on a fundamental level, a level that cuts through societal rules or restrictions. My unpredictability, my direct approach has always been met by acceptance, and for that I’m grateful. Without it I would have been lost in a sea of names and faces.
Until the day I discovered our family secret, I hadn’t stayed in one town for more than six months. Not because my parents were part of the military or had gypsy blood. It wasn’t as simple as that.
They lived in a constant state of fear, and having spent my life running from an unknown enemy, I thought I was ready to learn the truth. That was until I looked into my father’s face on the monitor in front of me, and I was no longer sure of anything.
With an unsteady hand I hit play on the remote and felt a familiar ache spread across my chest. It had been three days since my father’s death. Seeing this reminder of him so soon was almost too much to bear.
“My darling, Brooke. If you’re watching this, it means we’ve been compromised, and you don’t have much time.
I wish with all of my heart I could protect you. Believe me when I say, if my keeping you safe has failed, and you’re watching this now, I’m truly sorry for what you are about to face”.
As I watched my father struggling for breath, I felt anger bubble to the surface. The disease had taken so much from him, from all of us. It was hard to believe this was the same man who trained me relentlessly for hours, preparing me for a future only he could see.
So that’s it. I’ve set aside some time this weekend to finish the current draft so I can send it to my readers and maybe they can help me out!
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Mel
Melissa Barker-Simpson 
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