ENTRY # 169
Title: DAPHNE'S BOOK
Genre: Adult Fantasy
Word count: 100,000
Daphne Chase is a literary prodigy. She became a published author at the age of twelve with a short story collection titled DAPHNE'S BOOK: witty remarks by a young girl.
It would have been every writer's dream, if only the short stories really were short stories. They were Daphne's personal notes, all names and her own strategically changed, neatly written in a diary her father -- famous, eccentric author Abelard Chase -- mistook for her composition notebook and handed it to his publisher. She could do nothing about it. It was better to let her father and the world believe all of it was fiction, instead of letting them know what they had in their hands were her secrets.
Six years later, it's still painful for her to think her privacy had been violated. When Creativity -- head of the Muses -- approaches her with a deal, she accepts it: in exchange of her devotion to him, he will help her write a masterpiece. She calls him Apollo, and he shows her that there is no limit to imagination. He believes, however, that a successful writer can only spring from solitude.
When Apollo starts taking away the people she loves the most, Daphne has to decide between saving the people in her life or staying loyal to this entity that can give her a book so good it will erase DAPHNE'S BOOK from people's memory.
DAPHNE'S BOOK is a 100,000-word Adult Fantasy novel, a cross between Death Note and the dark mood of Stephen Poliakoff's Capturing Mary. I have a B.A. in English Language & Literature from Lawrence University, and am a U.S. Embassy's Brazilian Youth Ambassador.
First 250ish (281 to be more precise, didn't want to stop in the middle of a paragraph. . . =S) words of DAPHNE'S BOOK
Daphne Chase rested her forehead on the window. The cadence of the bus, summed up with her low spirits, left her drowsy. She soon fell into a half awake, half asleep state of mind.
She could hear her father telling stories, his tone of voice going up to emphasize certain words and build up climax, like an actor excitedly reciting a monologue. Her mother's and brothers' laughter completed the chorus. They were happy together. Happy without her.
Daphne could hardly understand what her father was saying, and was eager to join her mother and brothers in praising his genius. A type of eagerness that was more out of obligation than genuine interest. Her father was Abelard Chase. The famous author, hero of his generation. She listened, and listened, and when she thought she had discerned the word 'ridiculous', she was pulled back from them with a jolt.
The bus had stopped and the lights were on. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to that sudden brightness. She blinked, confused, and tried to pick up here and there bits of what her fellow passengers said.
“This is ridiculous,” the man sitting next to her murmured to himself as he rummaged in his backpack. He found his cell phone and dialed a number, his fingers pressing each button with discontent. A quick glance at his wristwatch showed that it was almost 9:00 in the evening.
When he started complaining on the phone that he would be late, Daphne's attention shifted to the two women in the seats in front of her. “Maybe we should call a cab,” she heard one of them say. That was alarming. Why did we stop?