Alina Popescu, Writer

Monday Progress Report: off to the Publisher, Back to Writing SciFi

Monday Progress Report: off to the Publisher, Back to Writing SciFi
August 31
12:36 2015

I finally finished! And it went through me reading it, some beta reading, and me fixing a glaring issue – I somehow completely forget to add some very important details of the backstory. Mind you, I was convinced they were there, but nope, completely skipped them. So thank you, Aimee, for catching this!

As I was writing, I started doubting it (especially toward the end). I was wondering whether the format worked or whether I was making it a bit too angsty. Apparently, it has just enough angst, according to my beta readers (who get tons of cookie points), and the format is interesting.

So with a little over 30000 words, the manuscript of this first novella in the Famous on the Internet  series is off to my publisher, Wayward Ink Publishing!

I’ve already started reading through the 18k already written in the WIP I am now focusing on – Angel’s Feather. I moved from contemporary to dark science fiction (and a quite tragic story at that). This was supposed to be part of the Of Heaven and Hell anthology, but it turned out to be too long. I mean… only the first part was over 18000 words… At Lily Velden’s suggestion, I decided that instead of publishing the first part in the anthology and the full story later, I’d just release the full story. Yup, no cliffhangers for you! So go thank Lily 😀

Here’s a little excerpt for you – cause there needs to be some teasing to make up for the no-cliffhanger part!

“Greetings,” Michael said when the entire village was gathered around him. His voice, although void of any inflexions, was still the warmest I’d ever heard. It wrapped me in a cocoon of warmth, caressing my soul and making my spirits soar with pleasure. “I have news of Marcus. He’s been found, apprehended, and executed. His body will be delivered to you shortly.”

“You mean you murdered him, right? Fucking angels,” my uncle said, sneering at Michael and the other flyers that flanked him.

“Did I now?” The corner of his mouth twitched, the shadow of a smile moving it upwards. “I am no angel, human. Those are figments of your imagination. I’m not part of any Heavenly Host and no god has created me to watch over Earth. I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Slowly, Michael turned his head, taking in everyone who had gathered in the small square in the heart of our village. His gaze stopped when he noticed me next to my uncle. He held my gaze, lowering his head a little and clenching his fists against his strong thighs. The leathers seemed painted on his legs, so did the knee-high boots he wore. And the expanse of bare skin covering his torso always left me breathless.

“What do you think, Adam? Was it murder?” The words were barely above whispering, but everyone heard them and all eyes of the village were upon me. My uncle took a step to his right, his shoulder brushing against mine. I knew it was his way of pledging silent support, but all I wanted was for him to move back, not to touch me. I felt his hate and anger poisoning me and I wanted none of it.

Michael had never addressed me and my brain was running at a million miles a minute. I could almost feel the electric sparks of my synapses as I frantically searched for enough power within me to keep breathing, prevent myself for swooning, and also form a few words to respond.

“No,” I pushed out hoarsely. “It was just punishment for breaking the rules.” My voice grew stronger with every word and I straightened my back, looking right back at him, every gate to my mind and soul open for his scrutiny. Not that he’d ever look. I did though, I looked within him and saw the glimmer of hope inside. “We are not supposed to build spaceships and we are never allowed to leave Earth.”

Michael nodded, and then turned on his heel, walking away from the deadly silent crowd.

“Fucking bastard! Forcing you to repeat their alien laws after having killed your father in front of your mother and his entire family. He has no respect for our pain.” It wasn’t a new litany, but today of all days it grated me more than it usually did.

“Uncle, why should Michael care when my father clearly didn’t? If he loved us, if he was worried about what his death would do to Mother, he would have stopped when she asked him.”

See you next week! <3

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Alina Popescu

Alina Popescu

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