Support my horror novel

Hi friends, as many of you know, I quit my job and moved to Tennessee to write a novel I have been wanting to complete for nearly a year now.  Sometimes, you have to follow your dreams, even if it may leave you broke and hungry.  I have a little money saved that has helped me to not work at all for this first month.  I have a part-time job lined up in the next few weeks, but would prefer to work as little as possible and focus all of my efforts on writing.  As of right now, I have written 32,000 words.  Or nearly half of what my end goal is.  I usually write between 1,000 and 3,500 words a day.  Some days it comes easy and other day are like pulling teeth.  It's hard to plan the days that you'll be inspired around a work schedule.

With your help, I can have my novel finished by the end of next month and begin the editing/ publishing process.  Anyone who donates $5 will automatically recieve a PDF of the final product.  If you're a little more adventurous and want your name in the annals of history, for $100 I can kill you off.

Kill you off?  What ever do you mean? You may be thinking these things to yourself.  Allow me to tell you a little about my novel and it may all make a little more sense.  The genre of my novel is horror/ dystopian/ post-apocalyptic journey.  My main character, Simon Finch is on a journey to find his family in a world he emerges into that is like nothing he could have imagined.  A lot of people die and you could be one of them. How often does this opportunity come around?

Just so you know I'm not messing around, here is the first chapter.  It has only been moderately editted, so please don't hold that against me.  The formatting really sucks for this, so the italics of him thinking to himself doesn't show up and the paragraphs are weird.

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Simon was a good kid. He had an easy life. His parents were not rich, but they didn’t struggle. He played baseball after school, making the varsity team his first year of high school. Simon was smart, too. He took honor classes and made easy A’s. He never got in trouble and always did his chores. Good kid is an understatement.

Simon’s parents bought a house on the lake when Simon was a kid. Every summer, both of his parents, his older sister, and his younger brother would spend the entire summer on the lake. Their friends would come and stay for weeks at a time, and it was always an adventure. The lake was mostly secluded. Lake Brownwood was still mostly undeveloped on the north side, meaning there was only a house every four or five miles. The lake house was a truly serene place to be. And even though it was only a twenty minute drive from town, visitors always felt isolated from the hustle and bustle of city life. The smell of the pine trees on a warm summer day as the breeze rolled in across the lake could make the most high strung city roller loosen his tie.

Simon loved swimming in the lake. He would swim from one side of the lake to the other every morning and night. Often, he would challenge his friends to a swimming contest across the lake; he always won. But his favorite thing to do was diving off the pier. The thrill of running at full speed and then leaping into the dark blue water, never knowing what was underneath, always gave him a rush.

Lake Brownwood was deep. Simon never knew exactly how deep. He only knew that he never hit the bottom after jumping off the pier, even when he dove straight down, held his breath, and swam with all his might to touch bottom. After about ten feet from shore, the bottom just dropped off, even with goggles, Simon couldn’t see what was in the darkness beneath. And it was cold, too. Even on the hottest days, of which there were many, the lake water could chill him to the bone. Most people only wanted to take a short dip and then sit in the sun, but not Simon; he loved the icy water on his skin, the way it made him feel the blood pumping through his veins; he loved the way it made him feel alive.

On this particular day, the lake house was full of people. Several of Simon’s friends were visiting for the week and were out on the pier playing games. Three boys were in the water swimming while Simon hit a plastic baseball out to them with a plastic bat. They would then swim to the ball and throw it back to Simon, gaining a point for every ball they retrieved. This kept the boys entertained for hours before Simon decided on a new challenge.

“Let’s have a diving contest!” He shouted at the boys in the lake. The word ‘contest’ is like a shot of adrenaline to teenage boys. They all came swimming to the dock in anticipation of a way to show their prowess in front of their peers. “Who wants to go first?”

“Since it’s your idea, you can go first.” Said one of the boys. “And then I can show you how it’s really done.” He gave Simon a friendly push in the back.

“Fine, but you’re gonna be sorry. Nothing can top this. Everyone stand back.” With that, his friends backed away to clear a path for Simon to run. Simon walked to where the pier met the shore. He turned around, looked at the water and took off. The wood creaked slightly as each foot thudded against the aged timber. Splinters narrowly missed each step as Simon roared down the pier. As he reached the end of the pier, Simon planted his right foot and lifted high into the air, spreading his arms and legs and forming a perfect x. For moments, he seemed suspended in time. His friends gazed at him, knowing he was right. Then the earth resumed spinning and his body descended back towards the lake. Towards gravity. He entered the lake with a slight splash and dove deep into the abyss. Simon swam deeper and deeper until his lungs burned and ached and he knew that if he didn’t turn around, that he would die. So he turned and swam towards the surface.

Simon reached the surfaced and gasped for air. He floated there as the minutes passed and let the moment wash over him.

“You should give up now; I told you I couldn’t be beat.” There was no response. He looked over to the pier; no one was there. “Guys, where did you go?” Simon swam over to the pier. He immediately noticed something was different. Everything looked older. “It looks like the wood has aged ten years. Guys! Is this some kind of joke? It’s not very funny.” He climbed out of the water and onto the timeworn pier. This was when he noticed the rest of the world. Gone were the green grass and flowers surrounding his parents’ house; the trees were no longer full of summer leaves; the sky no longer light blue with billowing white clouds. The house was dilapidated; windows were broken, shutters barely hung on, the front door creaked in the wind and occasionally slammed against the wall. The trees were barren, a skeletal remain of the glorious summer. The sky was a dull grey, with a feint orange glow where the sun was masked behind dark grey clouds. The wind howled in the distance and smoked billowed on the horizon.

“What the heck is happening?” Simon asked himself, unable to believe what was happening. “Where has everyone gone? Mom! Dad!” He screamed. But no one answered. Simon was alone. He walked over to the house. A layer of dust covered the porch. No one has been here for a while it would seem. But it doesn’t make any sense. I must be dreaming. He pinched himself on the arm. It hurt, but nothing happened. So he pinched himself again, harder. Blood began to trickle down his arm. I guess I’m not dreaming, but this still doesn’t make a lick of sense. He walked to the door. It was unlocked. Simon walked inside. The house was so similar to what he remembered, yet somehow it was completely different. Everything looked old. Like no one had been inside for years. The furniture was ripped. The cabinets were empty. The air smelled musty. Simon knew no one was there. He didn’t even bother yelling. Though he couldn’t quite explain what was happening, he knew he had to walk back towards town. If there was any way he could find out what was going on, he had to start there.