Most of you already know that November is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. Don’t let the name fool you. It’s really an INTERnational event and more people than you might think are participating. Over 300,000 aspiring authors are racing furiously against time to write at least 50,000 words by November 30th, 2012, 11:59:59 their time.

Since I am among those 300,000 people doing NaNoWriMo this month, I’ve decided to post NaNo-style excerpts from my current NaNo novel. These are very raw, unedited excerpts and probably a far cry from what these blurbs will eventually become.

Troy’s Morning Exercise – excerpted from Chapter 1

Triton Blowing in his Horn

“You must be Troy.”

“Huh?” Troy paused mid-launch and stared at the speaker, a short Greenie with unobtrusive brown tail stripes and hardly any fin-tip color at all. The fellow kept his shoulder-length brown hair tied back with a strand of kelp, like most other Tritons, and wore a plain shirt of grey fish scales. He was clearly one of the General’s messengers.

“Troy, right? They said you’d be the only lunatic training on the edge of town this early in the morning.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s no one else here. You could lower your arms, you know. I doubt even a desperate fem would be attracted to your scent at the moment.”

Troy lowered his arms, feeling foolish.

The messenger smirked, “Obviously they want those enormous muscles of yours for whatever they’re planning. It certainly can’t be your brain they’re after.”

Troy rolled his eyes. It never ceased to amaze him that people less than half his size felt comfortable insulting him. Fortunately, he possessed no qualms over showing them their mistake. He stretched out a hand. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

The messenger took Troy’s hand unsuspectingly. “NAMENEEDED’s the na- AH HA HA! Alright, alright! Sorry ‘bout the brains joke.”

Troy released NAMENEEDED’s hand with a broad smile. “They obviously don’t need your brains either. It seems you lack them altogether. I assume you’re here to summon me for a mission. Did they tell you what?”

“Nah.” NAMENEEDED gently massaged his injured hand for a moment before continuing. “It’s one of those, ‘we’d have to kill you if we told you’ deals. They just said ‘lunch is served at dinnertime’.”

Alright, Greenie. Message delivered. Swim off.”

NAMENEEDED started to hold out his right hand again, then quickly drew it back. He waggled his brows. “Any chance of a tip?”

Troy smiled warmly. “Sure. Never scare a sea cucumber.”

NAMENEEDED rolled his eyes. “Thanks. And you never tease a barracuda.” He swam off, leaving Troy to the unpleasant business of aerobic exercise.