So I got carried away and went and completed Pewdiepie’s series of The Last Of Us videos. It’s 2A.M. and I don’t have any ideas for a blog post, and I sure as hell ain’t staying up just to get this done. Not after I’ve been hacking away at writing work all day long, and also at A Song For The Rain earlier tonight, before succumbing to the temptation of YouTube.
As I was writing today’s 2,000 words for A Song For The Rain, there came a part where I realized I could lift an entire chapter from version 1.0 into version 2.0, and all it took was minor edits to make the scene work. Trouble was, as I waded through the words leading up to that scene in version 1.0, I couldn’t help but feel a little sense of loss, looking at the words I’ve invested into the scenes that won’t make it anymore into the final cut.
(unless I create version 3.0, that is. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that)
I have no idea yet how much of version 1.0 will make it into version 2.0. But chances are: very little, except for isolated scenes and characterizations. What follows is one of my favorite moments from version 1.0, which I’m sure will crop up again in version 2.0, if a little bit different. This is the part where May, our 18-year old heroine, treks up a jungle and into a clearing, where she’s supposed to meet “a friend”, who turns out to be an enormous tiger.
This is how it goes:
Something rose from the water, and it was terrifyingly large. May saw what looked like a painted face with whiskers, and a jaw that bared yellowed saber-like teeth. Water rolled off its orange-and-black fur, and a tail swished behind it, reaching the top of the waterfall. May wondered how could something so large fit inside the pool, which in itself was already pretty big, and thought that she might pass out.
The enormous tiger looked straight at May, its eyes a blazing golden color framed in black-and-white rings. It was almost hypnotic. May couldn’t move if she wanted to.
In one step, the beast closed the distance between them, and it lowered itself so its chin touched the ground. May saw giant claws, obsidian black, barely retracted in its paws. The tip of the creature’s claws, May was sure, were sharp enough to tear her apart if they simply scraped at her skin. A giant pink tongue escaped its mouth and licked its face. The tongue was as big as her whole body.
This was the Tyger. May was sure of it. Its stripes, though she couldn’t see it, were perfectly symmetrical. This was the creature of legends. It might have once been worshipped as a god. It might still be.
“And who might you be?” the Tyger said, its voice smooth like velvet and strong like thunder.
“Um. Hi,” May said, surprised to even find that her voice was working. “I’m May.”
“May,” the Tyger pondered. “May, the month after April and before June; or May, to ask for permission? Or might it be May that means Beauty in the Chinese language?”
“I… I’ve never asked,” she admitted. “It’s just a name, and it happens to be mine. So… just ‘May’, I guess.”
For the rest of the 98,800 words, you’ll just have to buy the novel when it comes out.
Whenever that may be.