Legends of Wrimonia, Part One: A Return to Wrimonia

It begins: Legends of Wrimonia, the sequel to Adventures in Wrimonia! Sorry this took so long; I had planned on rereading this to correct a few details after fixing typos, but I can do that as I go along, right? We’ll see how much I regret that later.

Oh, and if you haven’t read the first Wrimonia book yet, you may want to do that before Legends.

Enough babbling. On to the novel!

**

Mia Wonnor bounced down the path toward the adventure that awaited her, but instead of the usual sign welcoming her to Wrimonia, a crowd of people stood at the end of the path.

A path? Mia thought. This was unusual. She stood at the back of the crowd and looked ahead at the backs of the thousands of people standing there, most likely also waiting to enter just like her. Why was Wrimonia closed?

There was only one way to find out. Mia squeezed through the crowd, pushing through people with messenger bags and backpacks slung over their shoulders. A few of these people looked familiar from past years experiencing the same adventure, but Mia couldn’t place faces to names and didn’t want to be wrong if the name was wrong. When she reached a point where pushing forward was no longer possible without approaching the point of rudeness, she looked up to more closely examine what everyone was looking at.

The entrance to Wrimonia was indeed closed; tall black gates stood in front of what was once an open and inviting entrance. A pedestal towered over all the Wrimos. Mia craned her neck to examine it.

It was like any other pedestal except it was very tall. Mia imagined that there must be a ladder on the back for the person standing on it to use, for there wasn’t a ladder visible.

The Wrimos around Mia chattered happily, and Mia looked around for people she knew well. In the interest of not being more rude than she may have already been, she didn’t push through the Wrimos to look for her noveling friends, but if everyone else could find someone familiar, she could too.

Mia’s search for Wrimo friends was interrupted by a collective gasp followed by a cheer. She looked up.

A woman in a pale blue cape flew toward the pedestal, megaphone in hand, and made a smooth landing on the pedestal. Mia recognized her: Community Liaison turned NaNoWriMo Program Director Lindsey Grant. But what was up with the cape? Lindsey lifted the megaphone to her mouth and began to speak.

“Welcome, Wrimos, to the grand reopening of Wrimonia!” she said. Her voice echoed throughout the land just outside Wrimonia; nearby, small blue birds flew away from the trees they were resting in. “November is a month away, and Wrimonia now has more tools and features to help you write a novel.”

There was more cheering, which was interrupted by a screech of the megaphone.

Lindsey frowned. “Uh, sorry about that,” she said. “We know you’re raring to enter Wrimonia, but a few things before you get started. If you see anything wrong, please report them to Wrimo Hall, second floor, where our tech team will be happy to help. And we’ll be sending updates via our broadcast system, so keep an eye and ear out. Now go have fun!”

More cheering. Mia watched as Lindsey flew off the pedestal. The pedestal fell slowly and the gates opened, and everyone ran through the gates into the shiny but familiar Wrimonia.

The new Wrimonia was shinier and bigger than ever. Mia walked around the new Wrimonia, taking in the new surroundings. Would this year be a repeat of last year? Would she find a plot she loved so she could see our through to the end, even through the editing and publishing stages?

Mia looked down at her participant badges. 2009, won. 2010, won. 2011… participated. Mia stared at the blue 2011 badge and sighed. Last year was a mistake, wasn’t it? She shouldn’t have done NaNo with the move and the new job and that jerk…

She let these thoughts fester in her mind while wandering around Wrimonia. The main features that Dan and Jezra had built into the site the year before, the larger forums, the improved announcements system, the shinier square, the bigger and increased eraser benches, the increased quantity of robots, made Wrimonia a more exciting place than ever. And of course Wrimonia itself seemed bigger than ever. More Wrimos than ever wandered around the square, exploring the forums, chatting with new and old friends, and counting down the days until NaNoWriMo began.

Speaking of which… Mia glanced at the countdown clock right above her. Thirty-one days until NaNoWriMo begins, the clock said.

Thirty-one days to figure out a plot.

Mia soon found herself in front of a building she hand’t seen before. She looked up at the tall building of brick. “Appellation Station,” a stone sign in front of the building said. “For all your naming needs. Special thanks to calante for naming this forum.”

Appellation station? Mia hand’t seen this building here before. She had heard murmurs of a few new forums this year, but a forum just for naming things was not one she expected. It still sounded wonderful, though, so she opened the door and wandered in.

There was a sticky post in this forum explaining what this forum was about and thanking calante for naming this forum. After reading that Mia moved on to the posts.

The first post in that forum sought a name for a female working in communications. “She also likes to write fiction,” the Wrimo said. “That’s about all I have right now.”

Mia stopped. “Are you talking about me?” she asked. “Because the person you’ve described there sounds an awful lot like me.”

The original poster looked up. “That sounds like a lot of Wrimos, probably,” she replied. Mia looked at the poster’s name tag, which read Joyce_S. “But if it sounds a lot like you…” Joyce_S glanced at Mia’s name tag. “Mia Wonnor.” Joyce_S paused. “I like that name. I’ll keep it in mind.” Joyce_S grabbed a notepad out of her bag and scribbled Mia’s name down. “Don’t worry, she won’t be too much like you.”

Joyce_S left the forum with a newfound name. Mia stood there for a minute before following Joyce_S out, taking in what had just happened.

She’s using my name! Mia thought to herself. Mine! My name’s going to be a character in a book, and the way it sounds the character may be a lot like me, meaning…

“Oh god, I may be a character in a book,” Mia said. She sat down on one of the eraser benches with her bag and felt around the inside, the laptop and the notebooks and pens and the traveling shovel of death she still carried around for the past three years and the metal pencil that saved her life the first time she did NaNo…

Mia took the pencil out of the bag and examined it. She remembered what the marathon runner had told her three years ago. NaNoWriMo was in her fate. But did the runner mean that NaNo was in her fate that one time for winning NaNo, or that NaNo was in her fate every year?

But… if NaNo was in her fate every year, then what happened last year?

***
I’ll edit the sequel page later and the bottom of this page with details (and in later sections, commentary). The basics: Don’t be a dick; donate to NaNo if you’re so inclined because they’re awesome.