The Beginnings of a Novel

This is a big step for me as I love to write but have never posted anything I’ve written before. I’ve never even shown anyone anything I’ve written.

This is an idea I’ve had for a while. I became inspired by my own fear of overpopulation in the world and the post-apocalyptic novel is something I’m very interested in, for example The Road, written by Cormac McCarthy, 2006. This is an excerpt of the first 200 words or so of, hopefully, my novel-to-be. Some comments would really be appreciated as I’ve never written for anything other than my own benefit before!


He stood in the doorway of the dilapidated barn and surveyed the earth, or at least what was left of it. The barn was empty except for himself; the animals had left weeks ago and he wasn’t even sure if there were any humans left, except for himself. Just himself. He had the whole world, to himself. Or perhaps not, but he hadn’t seen a single person for weeks, or was it months? He’d begun to lose track of time. He’d stayed here too long and he knew it and so he picked up his backpack and continued to walk down the dusty track that was full of emptiness.

He was beginning to withdraw, from the world, from existence, just like everyone else had done. His wife had been lost to it, his son had been lost to it. But what exactly was it that had destroyed everyone else and everything else except him? He felt like, at any minute, someone would come out from behind the stump of a dead tree and yell “GOTCHA” as if it was just a joke. But that hadn’t happened yet. Nor would it.

How is it that everyone and everything around you can die, and you’re left, alone. He will die too and there will be nothing left on earth to know what really happened that year. Unless he wrote it all down…


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