Kira Hellweg is a recent graduate with a passion for music, Jesus Christ, and (oh, yeah) writing. She is the unpublished author of The Legend of Harthore, which is currently in the editorial stage. Her blog, Legend or Legacy, is currently focused on the above's imminent trilogy, but is sure to be invaded by her other WIPs and general writing tidbits.
Welcome to The Written Word (TWW for short) on YAWA. This series (managed by yours truly) on our blog will be focused on the most important thing to the majority of our readers - the actual writing. Every Thursday, we will share an excerpt from someone's writing, published or not. To start, the five admins will feature sections of our own WIPs. We hope you enjoy our writing, and feel free to email us at email@example.com if you'd like to see your own writing featured!
Last week on TWW, you saw an excerpt from Keeper, a personal WIP of mine. This week, I will introduce you to the work of one of our other incredible admins, Carilyn Anne.
Carilyn Anne is a writer, follower of Jesus, and homeschool graduate. She has been writing from a young age, and has participated in NaNoWriMo since 2010. She spends time housecleaning, babysitting, chatting on the Go Teen Writers Facebook group, and occasionally watching TV shows (like Doctor Who!) with family members. She blogs over at The Writing Maiden. Her two main WIPs are "Flicker in the Night", a historical fiction set during the Great Awakening, and "The Last Farm" which is futuristic fiction.
"Get what out of me? I don't know anything that could be of interest to you." Xander glared at the man. "I don't know your name, who you represent, why you tied me up." He growled out the last few words. "There is nothing that could possibly make me want to tell you anything."
"Ohhhh, I think there is. Perhaps, something called..." The room grew suddenly silent, and dread filled Xander. This man must be crazy.
Xander's mind raced. How did he even get here? He was with his family in the supermarket one second, and the next, he felt a tiny prick of pain on the back of his leg, and before he could do a thing, everything went from hazy to black and then there was nothing. This man must've been involved somehow...
"Family." The man spit it out harshly, and his eyes were fixed on Xander, steely black and piercing.
The word felt like a dagger into Xander's heart, and he bowed his head to his chest for a second. Then he raised it back up and lifted his chin slightly, watching the man closely. "What do you want?" He said it slowly, evenly, and firmly.
"I want you to admit that you know something."
"Maybe if you could just give me a hint..." Xander tried to think of something clever to say or do that could stall the conversation.
"No!" The man's voice rang out loudly, and echoed against the black walls of the room. "Tell me about those two little 'friends' of yours, and you will be released. But we can't..." the man's voice grew quieter and softer as if he were trying to be nice, and an evil smile tugged at his lips. "But we can't help you, now can we, unless you give us the information we need." The man slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Recognize this?"
Excerpt from The Last Farm
by Carilyn Anne