Hello noble Wattpad reader.
Your old pal, Bookshelf Q. Battler, here. Check me out on my blog, bookshelfbattle.com
Writing is a labor of love, and it has to be. You have to love something to spend hours cut off from the world, working on something without any hope that your labors will be rewarded by, say, oh I don't know, something crazy like your book actually getting sold in exchange for a tidy profit.
This story popped into my head a few years ago and I've been dancing, if you'll pardon the pun, with it ever since. I began work on it in earnest about a month ago. I'm a pantser, not a plotter, so I'm finally starting to get a sense of what this story will be, how it will go, who will win, who will lose and the biggest challenge of all - how to make the fate of the world depend on the skills of a disco dancing werewolf.
The premise is that a thousand years ago, there was a war between humans and supernatural beings (werewolves, vampires, trolls, ogres, goblins, witches, wizards and assorted non-humans) that left both sides nearly decimated. The conflict ended with a treaty that required non-humans to never use their powers for any reason and to either blend in or hide from the human world. As the years passed, supernaturals became the stuff of legend and fodder for books and movies.
The 1960s and 1970s were a time of great social upheaval and though there was a lot of chaos, the social changes made were for the better. Women and people of color, long marginalized, fought for their slice of the American pie. Ergo, in this story, non-humans are one more class fighting for a seat at the table. To borrow from Dr. King's words, and I hope you'll forgive me for doing so, supernaturals don't want to be judge on the ills that their powers could potentially be used for, but the good they might choose to use them for. Yes, that vampire who lives next door to you could suck your blood, but maybe he'd rather just use his 3000 years worth of knowledge to help find a cure for cancer. Maybe that werewolf you know could, in theory, rip off your arms and beat you with him, but maybe he has no interest in doing that. Maybe he just wants to use his superior strength to fight evil and save the day. Just because someone can do something bad doesn't mean they will.
At this early stage, it won't be perfect, but I invite you to come along with me and laugh. Expect plot holes, typos and grammatical errors galore. Help me fix them and offer your advice and criticism.
Honestly, I'm humbled when anyone takes a few minutes out of their lives to read my work.
YOU ARE READING
By day, he's Mitch Lumpkiss, the scrawniest dweeb in the 1979 senior class of Seacaucus High School. As the preferred target for class bully, Derrick, the kid can't get a date to save his life. By night, he's Disco Werewolf, admired by men who wa...