YAY!!! Guess what? I'm going to share stuff with you all! Isn't that great? It is. Trust me. Now you can say "Well at least I write description better than her!" or "I may have less words than her (19,648) but at least my story's better!" and feel better about everything.
I don't really expect people to critique or anything (it's all rushed anyway) I'm just sharing favourite bits for the sake of it.
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TABITHA FIRST SEES THE LABORATORY HER UNCLE CREATES IMPS IN
Tabby was amazed by the simplicity of the equipment. All her science lessons and books had lead her to believe that to modify genetics and grow a baby without a surrogate mother would take huge machines with flashing lights and buttons and tubes. But that was silly really; electricity wouldn’t work in the presence of magic. All that was there were rows and rows of thick glass tubes on benches, filled with a transparent liquid that probably wasn’t normal water. In each one was a tiny floating pink thing.
And it was dark.
Uncle Frank passed her a pair of blue rimmed, rather old-fashioned sunglasses, and put on a pair himself. Unlike regular sunglasses, these lived up to their name properly by producing, with magic, light for the wearer.
With the sunglasses, Tabby could see the basement laboratory more clearly. The tubes, incubators, were rimmed in silver. Set into the silver rims were tiny chips of mirror shimmering in a variety of colours. In the midst of the mirrors was a little nameplate. Next to each tube was a little cradle lined with pale blankets.
Uncle Frank went over to the nearest tube and peered at the mirror pieces.
‘They’re spelled to show things like temperature and heart beat. This little guy’s doing fine,’ Frank turned to Tabby and smiled. ‘This one I called Hugo. Come and meet him.’
Tabby padded over curiously. The floating … thing, when seen up close looked humanoid – but it was tiny! Barely big enough to fit on Tabby’s little fingernail, it was clear to see that the imps would be far smaller than any other Imp. The little imp’s hair-thin umbilical cord snaked up and latched to the top of the Tube. Hugo squirmed.
Tabby blushed.
‘He’s naked!’
‘He isn’t even born yet, he doesn’t know,’ Frank said, foraging for a pair of the knitting needles and wool he seemed to have stashed everywhere. Finding it he made himself comfortable in a rickety wooden chair placed out of the way in a corner. ‘Don’t let it bother you.’
****
I just love the knitting thing. He knits all the time. Everywhere. And he can do patterns!
***
THE QUESTION OF PLAYING GOD
He had never thought much of it. Never considered it as wrong, although he now realised many would class it as playing God, which was wrong. He wondered if that was what God’s friends had said to Him when He had started to mess with life, and where the world would be now if He’d listened.
***
SPELLING TEST
Ok, thought Tabitha. This one isn’t all that hard … wasn’t it I before E except after C? Yes, that was the rhyme … there was no C, so I came before E.
Feeling a bit more optimistic, she continued the test, and was more than a little disappointed when she found she hadn’t got any of them right. Not even neighbour, which she had been so sure about. Spidery thin handwriting in red pen marked a correct version and a little cross. Apparently there were exceptions to a rule that was already about exceptions.
***
YAY!!! PATRICK!!! MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER.
Just to clarify, Tabitha is making a bed for a cat by cutting a cardboard box in half. Patrick is an elf. They both just found out something very important and he's come to talk to her about it. The characters took control and told me that this is how they would behave, not the way I planned. They didn't get right to the point because they don't really know each other and aren't really friends. This is what they said while getting to the point. It amuses me.
‘Is that a cat?’ Patrick said, tentatively.
‘Yes.'
‘Oh.’
There was silence except for the ripping of cardboard.
‘Does it attack small creatures? Small creatures like, oh, elves, for example?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Oh. That’s good then.’
Lord Willow opened one golden eye and watched the little figure barely able to peer over the top of the table.
‘He might like you if you pat him,’ Tabby volunteered, without looking up.
‘Do you think?’ said Patrick, unsure.
‘Well, cats don’t often attack humans and humans pat them.’
‘Sounds reasonable.’ Patrick jumped off his chair and went around to Lord Willow, who watched him with one eye. The elf pulled him up on top of the chair, next to the cat, and gingerly touched the fur.
‘At least,’ said Tabby as an afterthought. ‘Cats don’t often kill humans, and humans pat them. Scratching happens quite often though, from what I hear.’
Patrick paused, hand frozen halfway down the predator’s back.
‘You did that on purpose,’ he whined, eyes shut tight.
‘Relax, he’s purring.’
Patrick opened his eyes.
‘That’s what that sound was. I thought it was his stomach.’
‘Nope.’
***
Well there you have it, little bits and pieces from my NaNo.
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