Note: Since I couldn’t post at all last week, I am posting twice this week to make up for my truancy. The post beneath this one revisits my “Ten Rules of Magic” to respond to the comments that some of you have made.

A few weeks ago, I challenged you – and myself – to get involved in NaNoWriMo. In that spirit, I bring you the first two pages of the novel I am currently working on. To share your writing or discuss your progress with others, check out this thread on the Teen Ink Bulletin Board: http://www.teenink.com/talk/showthread.php?s=&threadid=22871 (I promise to make a thread more specific to sci-fi/fantasy once my bulletin board registration gets approved!). And now, an excerpt from The Twilightlands…

“Apprentices up! Come on, let’s go. Move it!”
Nate Varoski groaned and rolled over in his bunk. It felt like only minutes had passed since he had fallen asleep. Surely it couldn’t be six o’clock already? He cracked open an eye, squinting at the silver dial on his nightstand. The short blue hand pointed to the three.
“What’s going on, Marti?” he asked the boy in the bed next to his.
“The light degree is off again. There are Nightsiders throwing fits in the street!” The apprentice’s voice held an edge of anticipation. “Maybe we’ll finally get to see some action!”
“That’s enough!” barked the apprentice Overseer. “Stop chattering like a bunch of old women and get dressed!”
Nate reluctantly peeled off his sleeping shirt and pulled a midnight blue training tunic out of the chest at the foot of his cot. Like shadows in the night, fleet and sure and light. The nightingale motto drifted through his sluggish thoughts. “The light degree is off again?” he whispered, once he was sure the Overseer couldn’t hear.
“That’s right.” Marti’s tan skin flushed pink with excitement. “Check your wristwatch.”
With a hurried glance towards the Overseer, Nate reached into the bottom of his chest and retrieved the watch. Nightingale apprentices were supposed to wear their Light Sensitive Wristwatches, or LSWs, at all times, but Nate had begun to take his off after-hours once the light degree had started to rise. It was almost impossible to sleep when an omen of impending doom kept ticking in your ear.
Nate felt an uneasy shiver crawl up his back as he snapped the band around his wrist. His watch was a near replica of the clock on his nightstand, with one obvious difference. In addition to the two blue hands that measured Standard Time was a small, black hand that now hovered near the seven. No, wait - seven? He rubbed his eyes sleepily. When he looked back down, the LSW had begun to beep softly, the face of the dial pulsing with an intentionally alarming crimson light.
“That can’t be right. Marti, is your LSW registering a –“
“Seven?” The other boy nodded. “Yep. It’s not a malfunction.”
Nate swore under his breath and hurried to fasten his sandals. He had never heard of it being so light on the Nightside before. The regular nightingales must be overwhelmed.
“All right boys, time to go! Hope you’re dressed, or the Marshal won’t be amused.”
The old nightingale pushed open the barrack doors and led the disheveled apprentice Flock outside. Nate blinked as the too-light air prickled against the bare skin of his arms and blurred the edges of his vision. The sky was an unhealthy bluish-grey - far from the ideal midnight black. His wings bristled as his dark blue feathers pulled in tightly around his body like a protective cocoon. Nightingales did better than most Nightsiders in semi-darkness, but even their thick copper skin would break into a painful rash after too long of an exposure.
The meeting hall was only a few yards from the apprentice dormitory, but it felt more like miles to the young nightingales who stumbled thankfully into the darkened room. Four small torches, one at each corner of the hall, cast shadows on rows of long wooden benches. Although nightingales possessed acute night vision, they still required a trace of light to focus their eyes. Fire, like the moon and the stars, was one of the few forms of luminosity Nightsiders could tolerate.
“Take a seat,” bellowed the Overseer. “The Marshal is on his way.” A ripple of disgruntled muttering swept through the Flock. Slowly, the nightingales separated into groups of three or four to discuss the night’s events.
Nate and Marti sat down next to a cluster of apprentices huddled near the podium. A slim nightingale girl cast a wary eye in their direction, then moved over to allow them into the group. “Hello Nate. Lovely time to be dragged out of bed, don’t you think?”
“They’d better have a good reason why the regular night’ngales couldn’t handle it,” grumbled an apprentice from one of the senior Flocks.
“I heard there was a riot down on Oleander,” said Marti, a glint in his pale blue eyes.
“Oh, nonsense. You just like making up stories.” The apprentice girl glared at Marti, who stuck his tongue out in reply.
“It’s worse than I ever thought I’d see it, Kira,” Nate whispered. “My skin started burning just on the walk over here. Imagine what the more light sensitive Nightsiders must be going through.”
“That’s why it’s our job to take care of ‘em.” Marti’s chest swelled with pride. “Like shadows in the night, er…something something light.”
“You can’t even get the words to our motto right,” said Kira. “I doubt very much that you could take care of anyone.”
“It’s all those damn Dawnies’ fault,” huffed the older apprentice. “That’s what my pa says. Do away with the Dawnies and we’d have all the darkness we could ever want.”
“Quiet down!” roared the Overseer. “I don’t want the Marshal to think I’m raising Flocks of crows.”
“You don’t need to worry,” Nate muttered. An uneasy hush was already beginning to fall over the meeting hall, a silence that rode on the memories of snapped belt buckles or the damp smack of wood on flesh. Or faces pushed in the mud at two in the morning. Nate’s hands clenched unconsciously as he watched the Marshal’s shiny brown loafers strike a measured path towards the podium.
“Good evening, apprentices.” The jagged scar on the Marshal’s left cheek coiled and jumped like a spring when he spoke. Was it weariness that added an extra rasping note to his voice, or merely impatience? “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been woken up at this hour. Although, seeing the present condition outside and knowing how apprentices gossip, I’m sure many of you already have some idea.”
A group of young nightingales at the back of the hall chuckled uneasily. The Marshal glared at the crowd, his strict, emotionless gaze instantly smothering the hint of nervous laughter.
“The Nightside has become steadily lighter over the past few months,” he continued, clearing his throat, “but today, for the first time, we are officially in a state of emergency. Those of you who actually wear your LSWs –“ his watery grey eyes met Nate’s blue ones, and he gave the boy a tiny, malicious grin – “know the light degree is at a level more often seen in the Twilightlands. Nightsiders all across the city are suffering, and panicking as a result. Earlier today there was a riot downtown, near Oleander Street. Several nightingales were injured while trying to hold back the crowd.”
“I told you so,” whispered Marti.
“Be quiet, Stupid!” hissed Kira, glancing towards the ruddy faced Overseer.
“I have decided to discharge you before things get too far out of hand,” said the Marshal. “Go back to your homes and calm down your families. Tell them whatever it is they need to hear. This situation will be dealt with,” he pounded his fist against the podium for emphasis, “but we cannot handle widespread panic among our own civilians.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the hall burst into discord.

That’s all for now. I hope to have a website soon with a synopsis, etc. so stay tuned…