Okay, so I promised big news. Here it is- I'm ditching How to End the World in Eighty Days. Actually, it's more like I'm keeping the general skeleton system and changing the characters, setting, and even genre. Instead of being a scifi novel, it is now a fantasy novel entitled "Reaper Academy". Okay, so the title isn't great, but I'm still working on it. While keeping the same themes, topics, questions to be answered, and conclusion as "How to End the World in Eighty Days", the novel will now follow a currently nameless female character with a special gift. Finding herself suddenly orphaned at eight years old, she is left with no family but her sister who is ill equipped to care for her. As a result, when she receives a call about a generous full-ride scholarship to a boarding school in England her sister doesn’t hesitate to sign her up. Once there, our special girl discovers that her new school is more fondly known as “Reaper Academy” by its students. This is mainly due to the fact that the schools purpose is to train young Grim Reapers- who are not how the legends would have you believe. The biggest difference is that the Reapers keep humans alive- at least until it’s their time to pass. The monsters who would steal a life before its time are hideous and strong- but they will not succeed in their plans. Our special girl excels in all her classes and soon rises to the top. Ten years later, when this girl finds out that the school has been infiltrated by the enemy and she is their target she must return home and face her sister. She cannot tell the truth, but her sister resents her lies. Beneath this all there is a deeper mystery, and a more diabolical plan. Can this girl escape her own death, or is it inevitable?
Here is a snippet from chapter one:
Life… is not something I fear. There is a moment at the beginning that seems full of deep ignorance and innocence, but it is a lie. The truth is that life is hard, but we make it harder. Sure, there are problems and complications that are beyond our control, but it all comes back to a person making a bad decision. What would happen if one day, we all just stopped? There would be silence for sure, but there would also be no hope. At least when we are making decisions we have the option to choose right. We have hope for something good.
I hope for something good, but when I was born I didn’t really know what good was. I knew my mother and father, and I knew I could feel, taste, see, hear, and smell. I was alive, but I didn’t understand dead. This is how we all begin- with a deep connection to life and arms open to the world. We don’t see that the world is a dark place.
I have always been of the opinion that beginnings are beautiful- full of hope and a chance to start something with a fresh slate. But then, there is something horrible in that thought too. If the slate is clean, then how will we know what to write? The best way to start is to pick up a pen and write, but eventually it’s hard to see the difference between the lines.
In that moment, that fresh start, I didn’t care what came after. All I cared about was that there was an after. I would have frozen that moment if I could and just watched myself breeze through life. That was the beginning.
Here is a snippet from chapter one:
Life… is not something I fear. There is a moment at the beginning that seems full of deep ignorance and innocence, but it is a lie. The truth is that life is hard, but we make it harder. Sure, there are problems and complications that are beyond our control, but it all comes back to a person making a bad decision. What would happen if one day, we all just stopped? There would be silence for sure, but there would also be no hope. At least when we are making decisions we have the option to choose right. We have hope for something good.
I hope for something good, but when I was born I didn’t really know what good was. I knew my mother and father, and I knew I could feel, taste, see, hear, and smell. I was alive, but I didn’t understand dead. This is how we all begin- with a deep connection to life and arms open to the world. We don’t see that the world is a dark place.
I have always been of the opinion that beginnings are beautiful- full of hope and a chance to start something with a fresh slate. But then, there is something horrible in that thought too. If the slate is clean, then how will we know what to write? The best way to start is to pick up a pen and write, but eventually it’s hard to see the difference between the lines.
In that moment, that fresh start, I didn’t care what came after. All I cared about was that there was an after. I would have frozen that moment if I could and just watched myself breeze through life. That was the beginning.