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Last week I started teaching my students about narrative writing. This, as you can imagine, is a lot of fun for me since writing stories is what I love to do. We are mapping out plots, coming up with characters, and generating settings. Students are coming up with stories left and right, and the energy is electrifying.
While teaching about narratives, I decided to share an excerpt from a middle grade novel I started writing a year ago entitled “The Phantom Train”. The book is about a haunted train that passes through a town and kidnaps children. When his little brother Connor is kidnapped, Wesley and his friend Mallory have to travel to the realm of NightMare to get him back.
I shared the excerpt from my novel to help students see different aspects of writing a story. Some of them loved the excerpt so much that they wanted to read the entire book. I shined at their complements and thought about their enthusiasm for the story that I wrote.
Who am I to deny a request?
So, in the form of a serialization, I decided I’m going to publish “The Phantom Train” on my website. I will post a new chapter every Monday for my readers to enjoy. And for my column readers I decided to put a snippet of the first chapter in this week’s paper. If you would like to read the entire first chapter, as well as the book as it comes out weekly, please be sure to visit my website at cordersbookcorner.blogspot.com.
Happy reading!
The Phantom Train
Chapter One
I jolted up in bed as I heard the howl of a ghost outside my window. It was dark in my room, except for the silver glow on my curtains from the full moon. My heart beat fast and my blankets stuck to my sweaty body. There was another howl.
My door creaked open, and I nearly screamed. “Wesley,” a small voice came from the door. “Do you hear that?”
I looked. It was my little brother Connor. His head of curly brown hair was tousled from sleep, his green eyes wide with fear and alarm.
Another howl. This time I could hear it clearly now that I wasn’t foggy with sleep. I scowled.
“It’s just the train,” I said. I flopped back onto the bed and draped my arm over my face. “Why did mom and dad decide to move up the street from a stupid train track?” I mumbled. We had only been in the new house for a week, and the train woke us up every other night. Even as I laid there, I could feel the tremors around me as the train passed. There were a few more wails of its whistle, fading into the distance, haunting and melancholy, like some kind of lonely spirit.
“I’m scared,” Connor said. He was fully in the room now, in his Star Wars pajamas. I frowned. He was six years old and still such a baby.
“You’re scared of nothing,” I said. I looked at my digital clock. It was three in the morning. At least I still had a few more hours of sleep. I rolled over and put my head under the pillow. “Go back to sleep.” My heart had finally returned to a normal rhythm and now I was calm. I didn’t want to admit it, but the train had scared the cheese curds out of me.
A few moments passed, but I could still feel Connor’s eyes on me. I let out an agitated growl. “What do you want, Connor?”
“Wesley…can I sleep in here?”
I sighed. Up to the time he was four and I was ten, we used to share a room together. When he was a baby, I insisted on sleeping near him, because I wanted to protect him. But now I was twelve and too old to be guarding my baby brother. He needed to grow up.
“No,” I said, muffled under the pillows. “Go sleep in your own room.”
I could feel him lingering there for another moment. After a couple of minutes I turned over. He was gone. I sighed and did my best to go back to sleep.
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