The Author's Notebook, VG Ch.1
VESTMEN'S GALE, Chapter One - Gabby's Call
Synopsis, Chapter One
Refresh your memory…
Michael, a recent graduate about to head to college at Duke University, is summer vacationing with his family on the eastern seaboard of Maine when he hears the laugh of his twin sister, the same sister who died several years earlier in this same spot. She was presumed drowned, but her body was never found. Nikki, his younger sister, is introduced, and Michael endures an awkward exchange with Christine, a distant love interest. A dark thunderhead is rolling in from the north, and Michael spots a sailboat in the ocean headed toward their dock, as if trying to outrun the squall. The boat stops at the end of their pier, a replica Viking longboat — however several clues tell the reader it is instead an authentic, ancient craft. Michael rushes to help the crew tie off and find shelter before the storm hits, which is now a marching wall of hail just a few hundred yards away and quickly approaching. However, he discovers the entire craft is empty. No soul on board.
Teaser, Chapter Two
“I rolled head over heels into the boat, falling between deck boards and splashing into bilge water pooled about the keel. Must’ve lost my balance, though it had seemed cold fingers had gripped my skin. The vessel surged forward. I shoved myself up. Grabbing a beam, I braced myself upright. Another surge, this time with groans of wood against wood, like pine trunks during a windstorm. The cicada moan of rope stretching. And men. The grunts of jocks pushing a football sled. The sweaty stench of a locker room mixed with…wet wool.
Rowers lined each side of the ship. They sat on rough-hewn planks, bracing their feet against the legs of the bench ahead of them. They must’ve just…appeared. No way I could’ve missed them before. I stared, unable to comprehend the sight. Linen and leather wrapped their waists. Loose, coarsely woven black and brown trousers covered their legs. Bare, suntanned backs and sinewy arms strained against oars in unison, their growls blending into…”
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My daughter and I plotted this story together several years ago as I facilitated a creative writing class in her high school. It was great fun creating with her versus solo. I’m fine with either, but this plot becomes richer because of her input. As you read, comment what might have come from her (seventeen-year-old young lady at the time) versus me (old crusty dad with too many experiences). When I finished the last of my RED OPS series, I couldn’t get this story out of my head. It had to be written down before I could work on anything else. Hence, this book is dedicated to her.
