Chapter One (of my upcoming novel), in which I introduce a number of players in a cursory manner

[Daddy Bear]

This is a first draft, but I want to post it here anyway for those who may be curious and as a way of giving myself a little encouragement to keep plugging at it. Comments, constructive criticism and general motivational cheerleading welcomed.

 

 

Glistening with sweat in the equatorial heat, the four marched on tired feet down the last stretch of the well-worn path that led toward their village clearing. Seemingly oblivious to the dried rivulets of blood striping him from injured head to the woven skirt around his waist strode the tall and imposing Long Arms at the head of the procession. A pace behind was Sweet Fruit, her stout features that had been twisted by consternation for her man now visibly relaxing by degrees as they drew near to home. Studious and dutiful Boy Lion and the free-spirited younger brother whom everyone called Bug brought up the rear, occasionally taking a nervous glance over their fatigued shoulders to make sure they weren’t about to be waylaid by strangers or blindsided by a large animal with growls emanating from its stomach and its throat.

 

As the trail beneath them widened and brought them from the jungle to the hut-lined circle of their small community, the family was met by happy shouts of recognition. Seeing the deep laceration that crowned a nasty lump on her older brother’s forehead, the slim and beautiful Moon grabbed her weary and semi-dazed older brother and led him through the thronging villagers to a seat by the central fire that burned day and night. Others attended to the exhausted Sweet Fruit and her children, doing their best to make them as comfortable as possible after their arduous three-day trek.

 

Once all were settled and Moon had begun cleaning Long Arms’s wound and rinsing the caked blood from his ebony skin, it was Moon’s new husband Digger who finally voiced the questions on everyone’s minds. “How did you get hurt,” he asked first out of respect for his brother-in-law, following that with a quieter, “and didn’t you have any luck?”

 

Long Arms returned Digger’s query with an angry face. “No, we didn’t have any luck!” he bellowed hotly. “We were attacked by giant apes! With sticks!” He leaned forward and placed his face in his hands as if to block out the awful memory as the assembly fell quiet.

 

A sudden titter erupted from Bug, spreading as quick as a savannah wildfire to Boy Lion and onward up the family chain. Long Arms dropped his hands to reveal a wide smile. “He’s s**tting you!” revealed Sweet Fruit through her laughter. “The idiot ran full speed into a tree chasing a tiny little lizard!” She motioned excitedly toward the edge of the trail. “Go, boys!”

 

Her sons turned and scurried back to the foliage from which they had emerged, dragging out large chunks of assorted meat and bunches of bananas and root vegetables stuffed in crude sacks made of vines. Still shrieking with glee at the joke their parents had concocted to play on the larger group, they ran to deposit the heavy communal bounty next to the crackling fire pit.

 

Digger’s eyes widened with mock indignation. “You!” he spat, sweeping a pointed finger in the direction of each grinning prankster in turn. “All of you!

BUTTHOLES!

”

 

 

 

There's your free taste; I hope you feel that you got your money's worth. If you do happen to like it and want to see more, you'll just have to wait and see if the book finds a publisher upon completion.

 

It's not lost on me that there are several far better writers than myself here on ENA; I look forward to reading posted excerpts from your own future works. (Hint enough?)

[Daddy Bear]

Ah, yes, the names. I used the symbolic format because: a), the book is social satire set in prehistoric times (hopefully evident in later chapters and in the title, which I don't want to make public as this time); and b), I don't know a lick of any African languages, except for the Zulu word ngiyakuthanda ("I love you").

 

Thanks for commenting, Elliekazam. It's always great to hear from you.

[melrich]

It's good. I kept reading. My only negative comment is on the very last sentence. It seems discordant with the preceding paragraphs, specifically I mean the word "buttholes", it's like a recent American slang dropped into what I am reading is some sort of remote tribal culture.

 

look forward to future installments.

[Daddy Bear]

Thank you melrich. That device of sprinkling noticeable and semi-believable modernisms (e.g., "He's s**ting you") throughout the dialogue is meant to be part of the affirmation for the reader that these folk, though culturally and chronologically removed, are in more important ways no different from ourselves - pretty much my central theme, actually. The gimmick may work better for some than for others; here's hoping that enough people will be able to gag it in order to turn me a buck!

[melrich]

Ah well if it is a theme you are going to continue then that may be different, along the lines that movie "One Million Years BC"?

 

I like it. Give us the next installment.

[Daddy Bear]

Now I am VERY intrigued!

I like literary works that make social commentaries rather than simply have a belletristic value.

 

Um...

 

*googles "belletristic"* Oh.

 

Yeah, so do I.

 

the new "it" topic/genre in literary studies right now is "science fiction" and how these futuristic "imagined communities," to use B. Anderson's term, disclose insights into our society.

 

Good to know. That's kind of what I'm going for, with the exception of the fact that I want to leave the idea that this troupe could have really existed somewhere in our collective ancestry. Thanks again for the encouragement.

[Daddy Bear]

Ah well if it is a theme you are going to continue then that may be different, along the lines that movie "One Million Years BC"?

 

Right, or like the scene in Ringo Starr's Caveman in which he and his mates accidentally discover music. That was a hoot.

 

Raquel Welch in low-cut fur, rowrrr.

 

I like it. Give us the next installment.

 

I just might post a later chapter in a week or two or three. Thanks a bunch for expressing interest; it means a lot to me.

[melrich]

Thanks a bunch for expressing interest; it means a lot to me.

 

No problem. It does sound really promising and I think you have a book in you if you have the discipline to keep going with it.

 

Have you read Confederacy of Dunces (great book but not really my point of raising it). If you have read it you'll know what I am talking about. If you haven't, see if you can find a copy one day and read the forward. A must for any budding author.

 

As outlined in an introduction to the revised edition, the book would never have been published if Toole's mother had not found the manuscript lying around the house (following Toole's suicide) and demanded link removed read it. Percy, an author and college instructor at link removed, reluctantly began to read through the manuscript, but became more captivated with each page. Eventually, the book would go on to win the link removed for Fiction. Toole had committed suicide in 1969 at age 31 and did not live to receive the award.

The original manuscript is currently at link removed in New Orleans.