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Genre: Young Adult & Youth
About dragoon362Location: Pres de Londres Home Region: Age:19 Favorite novels: Clockwork Orange, Belgariad, Mallorean, Atonement, The Outside, The Poison Seed, Lolita, Dance Dance Dance, the Belljar... Favorite writers: Neil Gaiman, Silvia Plath, Ted Hughes, Stephen Fry, Plato, Philip Pullman, Amis, John Masefield, Philip Larkin, Machiavelli... Favorite music: I have playlists for each story/novel I write so I have theme tunes for scenes and characters Non-noveling interests: lacrosse, philosophy, drinking, driving, jelly shoes, painting, doodling, sleeping, walking around empty houses late at night naked... |
Joined: October 16, 2007 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 7 NaNoWriMo buddies: 8
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Brief Author Bio: I'm just a rather wacky won with a penchant for psuedonyms, secrets and the supernatural. The real supremely perfect being is trapped in a rubix cube. Apples are about as sexual as Little Red Riding Hood. I wish Iago had got away with it. I have satire for furniture and eyeliner is god. |
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Synopsis: Monster Hospital
Six souls. Six freaks-of-nature. Six monsters.
There is a constant flow of people, a constant flow of souls: every month we go out, collecting the new souls that have been chosen. We bring them to Sanctuary, a place that exists Above, Below and Between your world.
Six days. Six Months. Six years.
Time is warped in the worlds Above and Below and Between. Age becomes redundant except in terms of what you've learnt. But Sanctuary is beginning to ruin. Wisdom, the moderate questioning presence that guided this place, has been corrupted, contaminated, tainted and now lies bound in the Monster Hospital. But without Wisdom, who is left to make Obedience and Education doubt? Who is left to communicate with the Good?
Six souls. Six friends. Six seals.
So I sit here and wonder: could we make it right again? Wake up, dear reader, I am about to unwind the fabric of your world and show you that nothing is as it seems.
Excerpt: Monster Hospital
“ This is it then?”
“It is.”
“Oh.”
“Look here,” She spoke softly, fixing her eyes on his, “You know that in this world... people like you and me... we’re... we’re not meant to exist. We’re pieces of magic. We’re the dark, Byronic heroes and the beautiful, seducing fiends of fiction. Don’t even think that this will be easy: there are places that you don’t realise exist and that’s because until now, you weren’t meant to and if we think you’re a liability-”
“I know. I know. I get it. This is it.”
Her eyes softened, “I’m sorry for shouting Little One, but you’ve got to understand that beyond this archway is a new world for you, a secret world, a world both above and below the place you call home. This is... this is... a sanctuary for people like us.”
The boy with silver eyes merely nodded and let her take his hand, letting himself be lead at the front of all the other young newcomers that the woman had led to this dark, unassuming archway. That was all the place was: an archway between two blacken-brick walls, graffiti lined and damp smelling. It was possible to see the other side of the arch, the rain soaked shimmer of the road beyond. The crowd was mostly quiet, a slight hum echoing as occasional worried whispers skittered from mouth to mouth – what were they meant to think?
*
The day it happened was pretty much like any other day.
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