I’ll share a bit every so often but here’s the excerpt I put up on the Nanowrimo site today. Not the whole chapter but a flavour.
Chapter One – In which we meet our cast
Marlee Grainger finally won the tug of war battle with her car door, prizing her coat from its clam-like grip as the wind howled her on and the rain drove frozen needles into her face. It was high time that she got her lock fixed, but the frequency with which it acted up was so low that she would normally forget their was an issue, until she was caught out once more. As was the case at that moment, those occasions when it did cause her problems, the timing could not be worse. While she pulled and tugged and wrenched the coat tail up and down in an attempt to jostle it loose, she realized that perhaps it was a karma thing; when things were going to go wrong for her, then it would make sense that the car door would also be affected by the pocket of bad luck. As the coat broke free with a slight tear, she sighed partly with relief and partly because this was, perhaps now had been, her favourite coat.
It was, as usual, her turn to set things up. If truth be told, she wasn’t unhappy to be doing it; some would call it being taken advantage of, but how could she justify that expression when she did like to be in control, to be depended on? Of course people would expect her to be the one to do all the trivial work – it wasn’t her nature to stand up for herself being a firm believer in not being confrontational and all – but secretly while she moved the plastic chairs out from the sides of the room and arranged them in the most pleasing order or set up the tea and coffee things on the old Formica topped table in the corner beside the stage, she knew that they couldn’t do without her. These people, loosely termed as friends, and the future of the group were completely dependant on her and while this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, she did feel a little powerful. She was the glue that held everything together, and without her the community would have no theatrical outlet.
As she trudged through the rain, juggling the heavily soaked cardboard box full of scripts, some basic props and biscuits, she frantically fished inside her coat pocket for the keys to the main door. Of course this being Tuesday, as well as having her car, house and the Church hall keys, she also had those of the shop, her neighbour Janice and the veterinary surgery; more who depended on her good nature and reliability. She finally reached the large wooden doors where at last she could find some shelter under the awning and took the opportunity to drop the box onto the ground so that she could pull the coat pocket around in front of her and use both hands to try and help in her search. That gave her the opportunity to pull out two sets of keys at once, but it didn’t quite work out as she would have hoped as a further set became entangled and as she fought to pry the two apart, the thread used to keep them together gave way and snapped, causing six keys to fall from her grasp and dance around in a puddle of rainwater before scattering around her feet. Marlee sighed again. Of course, the key would have to be one of those.
As she bent down to retrieve the wayward keys, a single icy drip of water fell from the rafters and hit the back of her neck, her crouching having now exposed an area of flesh to silent attack. She winced as the shiver began and flew down her spine, while the splash of water began its slower and more purposeful journey the same way.