Following is an excerpt from my first chapter in my novel titled Ballad for the Lost Romantics.
Ballad for the Lost Romantics
It is with a surprisingly sentimental heart that I write these last words. No, you saw correctly, friends, I did indeed write ‘last.’ After a solid eight months of fanciful writing, This Author has finally decided to turn in her pen and pad of paper.
Although one Mr. Masters’s challenge of uncovering my true identity is certainly a catalyst for this decision, the blame cannot (entirely) be placed upon his shoulders. Truthfully, the column has grown wearisome as of late, less fulfilling to write and perhaps less exciting for you to read. This Author needs change; which, one must admit, is not surprising. I like to think of myself as being modest, certainly not conceited, and eight months is a long time of writing about oneself.
And, quite frankly, the recent renewal of interest in my “secret” identity is somewhat disturbing. The lure of the challenge and the prospect of the great prize has put friend against friend, and brother against sister, something that completely contradicts the reasons for starting the articles in the first place.
Indeed, the idea of this column had taken root because it sounded as if it would look good on my college transcripts and allow me to vent on some things that, under normal circumstances, I most certainly would not have shared with a soul. But these, I’m sure we can all agree, are not normal circumstances and I have been free to express, rather plainly, my views on romance.
Of course, I never intended for my articles to be such the smashing hit they have become. I never dreamed that they would not only run amuck within Moraga Hills Private School, but also spark the interest of our seaside town, Lovington, as a whole. But ignite a spark they did, a spark that only grew into a raging fire that hungrily swept across our beloved school and town.
But alas, as most so eloquently say: ‘all good things must come to an end.’ It’s sad, but in this particular case, very true.
Before this rather distinctive column can come to a close, though, there is still the matter of the quest for my identity to address. I am well aware that retiring will not quench this ridiculous need to find out my true name.
What’s in a name, after all? It’s just another word, but since it is so apparently interesting to you all I suppose the least that I can do is answer the two questions that have plagued most of Moraga Hills for the past eight months: what is Lady Rowena’s true identity and who is this man she writes about?
The answers, friends, are Vanessa Price and Thomas Lee.
I sincerely hope that this satisfies your curiosity and settles Mr. Masters’s bet (I shall be expecting the two thousand pounds within the week, by the by).
So, I bid you adieu, beloved school! I shall cherish the memory of your sure-to-be shocked faces as you read this last article of mine forever in my heart of hearts; This Author is, after all, a very sentimental person.
Lady Rowena’s Last Ballad for the Lost Romantics
3 Responses to “Ballad for the Lost Romantics”
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I like the story so far… are you going to post more of it?
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