I have started a new story. The plan is a short novel about adventure, magic, curiosity, monsters, culture, and overcoming ignorance! All set in 1870 steampunk voodoo filled New Orleans!
Here is a brief exert from my introduction.
"The joyous beat of a tight snare drum mixed with the bouncing melody of a singing saxophone as the sounds of Mardi Gras echoed through the bayou. It was Audrey's favorite time of year. While she'd never been to a parade, or even been within the city, she could always hear the sounds of laughter and song as it snaked through dense bog that surrounded her plantation home. Even the heavy moss on the cypress, which always hung in a perpetual gloom and misery, seemed to sway provocatively in the rhythm of the contagious dance.
She knew her mother was watching from the window, she could feel her stare burning on her as she danced in the tall grass of the yard by the water's edge. Mother never approved of the ruckus, but Audrey didn't care. All this week, she would dance and smile and laugh and skip, though she wouldn't understand why. Mardi Gras had never explained to the young girl, now twelve years old and living in the isolation of the thick of the bayou. She'd never left the plantation, save a few short ventures into the swamp to collect mushrooms or toads, but that didn't stop her imagination from filling in the gaps of knowledge, painting a vibrant display of ridiculous adventures to go along with the music that floated in the air.
Audrey was a spring of curiosity and imagination that had been tightly bound in a mason jar. Safety was her captor. Love was her restraints. Her mother knew the outside world; had seen its' many horrors and treachery. Her husband's death was all of the proof she needed to condemn the rest of mankind and its seething intolerance. No, if Audrey was to live, she must be in the bayou. There was no room for acceptance in the tiny hearts of men. They would remain here in secrecy, their special talents left in shadow.
Those who could open the doors to Whu-Jha-Du were very rare. It was an art lost many generations ago when the laws and gods of earth found Whu-Jha-Du to be profane and blasphemous. The witch-hunt had burnt the world to eradicate those with the connections to the arcane dimension, and now it was but a faint echo in a vast cavern of darkness. She shook away these thoughts, bitterly fighting the notion that she would one day have to explain Voodoo and her daughters deep well of power. She knew they'd be kindling for the fire if ever discovered and her mind recoiled when light was shed upon this knowledge.
Audrey's dancing spin came to an abrupt end, causing her to stagger in dizziness, smiling a beaming smile that bathed the world around her in innocent glee. Her long, curled hair was the color of fire. Red, orange, and yellow mixed from end to end a luminous display of energy. Her bright, pale skin was littered with freckles and her emerald eyes shone through the shadows of the bog like a lighthouse in the fog. Straightening her dress, she took an index finger and outlined the arcane symbols and runes embroidered on the edge of the fabric. She never quite understood how to read them, but her grandpa had taught her of how important they were and that they would protect her from harm.
The thought of her Grandpa caused her mood to slowly descend, the spring in her step fading into a gentle walk. She missed him terribly. He would visit only once a year, but when he did, the world was a much bigger place. He brought magic with him. He filled her mind with countless tales of heroes and heroines, of monsters and villains, and of Voodoo. He was the guiding light of Whu-Jha-Du and would teach her to master the dimensional doors his bloodline could open. "
Copyright Wayne Butler, 2012. All Rights Reserved. Do not replicate or copy any of the information without permission from the author.
