Help needed. Writer seeking input for WIP

I’ve got my idea. I have characters. There’s a basic plot and a little over 23,000 words. There’d be more words if I didn’t have to keep going back to fix the tense of my verbs.

It was never a problem before. I’ve always written in third person past tense. With this story, however, I decided to try first person. I planned to stick with past tense, but I’ve been reading a lot of books lately written in present tense, and I’ve found that I like it. I’ll be writing along and all of a sudden, I throw up my hands in dismay – everything I’ve just written is in present instead of past.

This is where you come in. I’m going to put two short excerpts here, one written in first person, present. The other written in first person, past. You decide. Let me know which you prefer and why.

A little background: The work is fantasy for young adults and is set in Eile, a fictional land tied to my first fantasy series. The hero is Trevan, a goat herder and gifted musician whose mother died two years ago. Trevan is certain she was murdered, but there is no way to prove it. The heroine is Mireia, a part human, part siren who has had her power bound due to the danger she posed to others. Her mother decides to return with her daughter to the King of the Sirens, the girl’s father whom she fled when she found herself pregnant and who she hopes will agree to train Mireia prior to her upcoming seventeenth birthday when she must pass the Patterner’s Test to gain her full powers.

Excerpt – Past Tense

Mireia

Nine days ago, my slippered feet had trod the stone passages of the royal palace of Ìre, capital city of Moon Court. Now, my boots kicked through emerald grass and sheep dung. We walked for hours under the yellow sun. Always southwest toward a line of blue Mama said marked the place where sky met sea. The undulations of the prairie sometimes hid the line, but when we crested the hill, it reappeared until a distant rectangular blotch obscured the center of our goal.

I stopped, raised my hand, and stared with squinting eyes at the thing in the distance. Mama threaded her arm through mine and made a strangled sound that drew my eyes to her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her chin trembled. “Mama, what’s wrong?”

It was as if she’d forgotten I was there because she startled, her wide-eyed gaze flying to my face. She swallowed and swiped at her tears. “I’m sorry, Mireia. I-I didn’t realize seeing it again would bring back so many emotions. Sixteen years.” Her voice pitched low as if she were talking only to herself. “Such a long time, and yet, only a heartbeat.” Her hand rested above the center of her chest.

What memories stirred in her as she peered into the distance? What did she see? To me, the thing was nothing, a yellow mass rising from a green expanse. It concealed my goal, but the way Mama looked at it, it might be her goal.

Trevan

I didn’t open my eyes right away, allowing myself to memorize the feel of the moment. It was the first time I’d used natural magic to fulfill a wish. Always before, I’d played my own instrument. This was new, an advance. It rippled through me with the gentle assurance of a wave on a loch. I knew I could do this again and allowed myself to wonder what else I could do.

The flutters of excitement and wonder died down and I straightened my posture, located the pair, and raised the glass to my right eye. I twisted the end to bring them into focus and nearly dropped the instrument. I lowered it a few inches panting and a little disbelieving of my own discovery. Two females, the older, shorter one, human, but the other . . . My thoughts drifted. I’d never seen anything like her. A strangled but unmistakable golden aura clung to her, gilding her pale skin and her ebony hair. It flared, then faded, creating an almost strobe like rhythm, like a lighthouse beacon.

I swallowed, licking my dry lips before fitting the glass to my eye once more. Even from here, I sensed danger. What I couldn’t decide was whether she was warning me away, or begging me to save her.

Excerpt – Present Tense

Mireia

Nine days ago, my slippered feet had trod the stone passages of the royal palace of Ìre, capital city of Moon Court. Now, my boots kick through emerald grass and sheep dung. We walk for hours under the yellow sun. Always southwest toward a line of blue Mama says mark the place where sky meets sea. The undulations of the prairie sometimes hide the line, but when we crest the hill, it reappears until a distant rectangular blotch obscures the center of our goal.

I stop, raise my hand, and stare with squinting eyes at the thing in the distance. Mama threads her arm through mine and makes a strangled sound that draws my eyes to her face. Tears stream down her cheeks and her chin trembles. “Mama, what’s wrong?”

It is as if she’s forgotten I am there because she startles, her wide-eyed gaze flying to my face. She swallows and swipes at her tears. “I’m sorry, Mireia. I-I didn’t realize seeing it again would bring back so many emotions. Sixteen years.” Her voice pitches low as if she talks only to herself. “Such a long time, and yet, only a heartbeat.” Her hand rests above the center of her chest.

What memories stir in her as she peers into the distance? What does she see? To me, the thing is nothing, a yellow mass rising from a green expanse. It conceals my goal, but the way Mama looks at it, it might actually be her goal.

Trevan

I don’t open my eyes right away, allowing myself to memorize the feel of the moment. It is the first time I’ve used natural magic to fulfill a wish. Always before, I played my own instrument. This is new, an advance. It ripples through me with the gentle assurance of a wave on a loch. I know I can do this again and allow myself to wonder what else I can do.

The flutters of excitement and wonder die down and I straighten my posture, locate the pair, and raise the glass to my right eye. I twist the end to bring them into focus and nearly drop the instrument. I lower it a few inches panting and a little disbelieving of my own discovery. Two females, the older, shorter one, human, but the other . . . My thoughts drift. I’ve never seen anything like her. A strangled but unmistakable golden aura clings to her, gilding her pale skin and her ebony hair. It flares, then fades, creating an almost strobe like rhythm, like a lighthouse beacon.

I swallow, licking my dry lips before fitting the glass to my eye once more. Even from here, I sense danger. What I can’t decide is whether she is warning me away, or begging me to save her.

So, what do you think? Which do you prefer? I’m anxious to hear your opinion. Feel free to comment on the story itself. Obviously, this is a small part of the whole, but if you have things you especially like or dislike, I need to know that now when it isn’t so difficult to fix. Thanks in advance for your help.

Thanks to Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash for the featured photo. Extra special thanks to all those who’ve subscribed to my quarterly newsletter, or followed this blog. I so appreciate your support as I try to build a career as an author. I can’t do that without your help. If you haven’t subscribed, but would like to, click the link here.

I wish everyone the very best. Chao! or as they say in Gaelic, Mar sin leat!