Genre: Religious, Spiritual & New Age
About SaintJoiLocation: Brea, CA Home Region: Age:25 Website: http://www.comeaway.blogspot.com/ Favorite novels: far too many to name Favorite writers: Jasper Fforde, Madeleine L'Engle, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R.Tolkien, Dorothy Sayers, Terry Brooks Favorite music: anything by Loreena McKennitt, American Angels and Gloryland by Anonymous 4, Rich Mullins, Joni Mitchell Non-noveling interests: Fantasy fiction, classical education, Babylon 5, Plato, art, sewing, iconography |
Joined: November 5, 2004 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 129 NaNoWriMo buddies: 17
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Synopsis: Powers and Principalities
James, still reeling from the death of his fiancée, discovers that he has remarkable spiritual abilities, including the gift of seeing into the spiritual world. He comes under pressure to use these abilities for the public good, but feels a call to become a monk. All the while, a shadowy society follows him, attempting to recruit him into their circle, and James’ teacher wants him to take psychoactive medication to make the visions stop.
Excerpt: Powers and Principalities
I grabbed my bag, and headed back to my room. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was one of my favorite places in the world. Two tall bookshelves stood against the wall, on either side of the bed. My desk was under the window, and a blue faux-Persian rug lay on the floor. I pulled a stack of papers out of my bag, and tossed it onto the bed. Settling down into my chair, I pulled a red pen out of my pencil holder, and grabbed the first test paper.
As I worked my way down the stack of papers, I could feel my eyes getting heavy. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was nowhere near as late as it felt, so I sighed, and continued marking the papers. After a while, the words began to make less and less sense. After all, surely a freshman wouldn’t be writing things like “To the Homeric Greek, gods were not personal, but archetypes of things in the natural world. Mars, god of war, enters the world through the human heart, the warlike spirit. Aphrodite enters through the loving heart, Zeus through the kingly spirit, and Artemis through the pure of heart. Watch the gate of your heart, for this is the House of God.”
As I stared blearily at the paper, the words seemed to rearrange themselves on the page, forming strange patterns. A strange rustling seemed to come from behind me, and I turned to see a tall cloaked figure sitting on my bed. It was swathed in blue from head to toe, and its face was hidden, though I could feel its eyes watching me. Its diaphanous robes swept out behind it, as if caught in a strong wind, and the edges of the fabric seemed to disappear into nothingness. I opened my mouth to shout, to call Stephan into the room, to do anything, and found myself starting awake.
I looked around the room, not seeing anything out of place. I could feel a trickle of saliva on my chin, from sleeping with my mouth open. I could even feel a ridge on my cheek from where it had been resting on the pen on my desk. I shook my head slightly to clear it, trying to wake up completely. I don’t usually dream during naps, and this dream had been so vivid I would have sworn that I was awake.
I stood and stretched, loosening the muscles that were cramping from sitting at my desk. As I crossed the room, I glanced out of the window. Under the streetlamp on the corner, I could make out a dark shape. It stood close to the fence and I mistook it for part of the foliage for a moment. I had a moment of panic as I wildly thought that it might be the mysterious figure in blue. Then it looked at me, and I could see that the figure was simply a young man, dressed all in black. A pale face turned towards my window. A faint smile crossed his face, and he gave a small bow, walked into the darkness, and was gone.
This is like that flower. Everything I see is shining from within, a light that is warm like the sun but isn’t coming from any particular sun. The faces of the people that are walking toward me are full of light. I’m almost afraid to look at them, they seem like avenging angels. Only after a more careful scrutiny do I see the headphones snaking down across their necks, and notice that they are still carrying the textbooks for a full load of college classes. Some of the girls are even wearing those sweatpants with the word “Juicy” across the butt. But their faces are still glowing.
And they don’t see it. None of them can see this. I feel like I’m in a dream but I know I’m awake.
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