Chapter 1: Coney Island Republic, Year 21XX(Draft)
- Private tuition granted by great wealth is the primary factor for good grades…
- Meritocracy has lost its worth because children are not born into families of equal wealth.
- Privatised learning starts at the age of 1 for all those in the Upper Strata.
- All those below them are destined to be trapped in the poverty cycle.
Jade’s tongue coiled and wrinkled from the taste of salt as she searched for the second net amongst the murky seafloor. It was always a tradition of hers to show off and return with no less than two sacks of catch in both hands, impressing her mother, and the less daring fishermen of the Coney Island Shanties. But of course, more catch, more money, therefore better food.
A thread of nylon caught the corners of her eyes, and she immediately remembered laying the sack against the blood maroon corals, just as a stingray glided past her innocently. One stingray would snag her about fifty baht, enough for a ten kilogram sack of rice that would last for two months if consumed moderately.
“Shame on me,” May thought. She knew hadn’t quite been her usual self lately. It was after all the day of ‘DESTINY’.
She broke the surface of the heavy sea, feeling light-headed as her body began to take in oxygen once more since half-an-hour ago. Her feet sank into the sandy mush with too much strength, her body atuning itself once more to the resistance of air rather than water. Her sacks of fresh catch dripped a trail along washing her imprints away.
“A minute off, Jade. You’re getting sloppy,” a woman in her mid-thirties taunted her under a coconut tree, eyes ever so hooked to an old mechanical, non-digital stopwatch. “Very sloppy…” She tapped her feet and placed her free hand on her hip.
Jade sighed and gave a false smirk, passing by her mother, rushing for the marketplace. “I know… Sorry. I got distracted…”
“But again, your loot pleases us all, my lil’princess. Gimme the sacks–get dressed, or you’ll be late–there are no retries. Exam defaulters are to be hung publicly ya’know,” Janet warned jokingly. (–memory corrupt; failure to retrieve; critical error)
In school, I took a brief class in creative writing, a small spark to a failing amber. Between 2013/14 I wrote
a shittymy first attempt at anovel. Dystopian. Well, the first chapter at least. Tldr; it was about an alternate Neo-Singapore made poor by the effects of the Krah Canal. Dark stuff. Tin foil hats for everyone. But very, very cool–until my younger sister said that the special exams I wrote reminded her a lot of Divergent’s, which I had not read. I read the first few chapters, and proceeded to burn the notes for the book. And then slammed my head on the table. (Anime Flashback / Source)
Dystopian at this point of time in 2017 has been to me, a trend that has passed on. With the Hunger Games and Divergent and many other ‘rebel against the system’ archetypes, investing in this genre may pose a risk. It is for this reason that between 2014-2015, I had begun testing my talents in other genres.