Columba College pupil Yin Lin has been writing novels since she was 10 and spends about an hour each day working on her "writing projects".
The 17-year-old's skill as a wordsmith has won her selection for the 2010 New Zealand Society of Authors Youth Mentor Programme.
She is one of three secondary school pupils in New Zealand to be selected for the programme, which offers mentoring with a well-known published author of books for young adults.
The other winners were Western Springs College pupil Henrietta Bollinger and St Cuthbert's College pupil Lucy Driver, both of Auckland.
Yin will be paired with Hawkes Bay author Anna Mackenzie, whose fiction for young adults has won awards, including the Honour Award in the Young Adult section of the 2008 New Zealand Post Book Awards for Children and Young Adults.
The mentoring can take place either face to face, by telephone, fax, email, Skype, or a combination of these.
Yin will benefit from Mackenzie's experience as a published writer, and Mackenzie will provide encouragement and practical advice and specific examples of how to improve Yin's work.
Being one of three secondary school pupils in New Zealand selected to receive writing mentoring from one of the nation's best authors is one thing, but to win selection when English is your second language is another.
Yin came to New Zealand from Taiwan when she was 2, and grew up with Taiwanese as her first language.
Rather than being a disadvantage, Yin said her biculturalism had provided inspiration for her writing.
She has almost finished writing a novel titled Children of Winata, which she will be working through with Mackenzie.
The novel is based on two fictional countries which are at war.
It shows how the two warring parties grow to understand each other, and how all the emotions and residual conflict associated with the understanding affect the people living in the two societies, she said.
"The novel is basically finished, but there are some rough parts which still need editing. Any input from Anna is definitely going to be helpful. I hope to finish the book this year."
Yin said the chance to be mentored by an established author was the opportunity of a lifetime, and she was both surprised and honoured to have been selected.
Despite her talent, Yin said her writing would remain a hobby rather than become a profession.
"I want to become a doctor, but writing will always be a major part of my life. I never thought I could win a prize with it. This is an invaluable experience."
Children of Winata prepare to invade
An exerpt from Columba College pupil Yin Lin's novel Children of Winata.
His battle-horse shifted and though his fingers braided the animal's mane, Will stared out at the sea.
He watched as the waves raced each other to the shore, crashing against one another, sagging back into the sea.
A feeling of longing swept within him: only a few days away from home and he wanted to go back.
He wanted to stand vigil at his wife's grave.
He wanted to hold her soft hands again, but he hadn't held them for more than ten years.
He sighed.
Even death was envious of his wife's beauty.
She had borne him a son, healthy and strong.
Sunken in the thoughts of his son, Will had drawn completely into himself and did not hear or see Gleo ride up beside him.
"Lion'eart," Gleo said, running a tattooed hand over his golden hair.
"What are you thinking about?""Cinah," Will replied, and he couldn't help but smile nostalgically at the title; it made him remember the bantering of friends, and forget that one day, under the word of the State, they might be at each other's throats.
He took a glimpse at the man before returning his sights to the sea, and beyond: home.
But he saw only the waves chaff the banks below.
The mother-of-pearl white sprayed up ferociously.
Gleo nodded understandingly, and a silence pulled out between them, broken only by the roar of the waves.
"Is your son doing well?"
"What do you mean?" Will flicked a glance back at the sea, listening to it sigh.
"Kyros is growing up in the military," Gleo commented.
"He'll be an old hand at this when he's older."
Will noticed Gleo slipping between the Cinah dialect and the Winata dialect and he envied the older man for his acceptance of this new land.
To Will's ear, the breathy `h' sounds of the Winatan tongue were strange and excessive; he found it unnecessary.
The Cinah way of saying it was much more decisive.
It sounded less husky, less emotional. Less attached.
"Per'aps, Gleo," Will murmured. "My boy's a good lad, disciplined."
But in his heart, he wished it was not so.
He wished his son could walk a different path, keep his hands clean from bloodshed and keep his head clear from the bloodlust that seemed at times too overwhelming.
"Aye," agreed Gleo. "He is your son, Lion'eart. Sharp. Quick. He keeps his wits about 'im and stays out of trouble."
He watched a blue magpie strut close to them, but made no gesture to frighten it away.
Will ignored the creature though his heart clenched at the sight of the bad omen.
He thought he was past the stage of being superstitious.
Quickly, he cast his mind on his boy.
His boy, who thrived under the harsh conditions of the military although his rebellious streak often got him into a tight spot.
"Couldn't you `ave stayed? The State gave you a choice, no?" Gleo was looking curiously at Will.
"You don't want to be here. Your heart is over the strait."
Will sighed, and it was covered by the sound of a blue magpie, its harsh kyak noise echoing in the breeze.
"You're right old man; I didn't want to come to this island. I didn't want more land. But Number One needs me; Number One promised no `arm would come to my boy."
"Number One, huh?"
The waves collided with each other. The wind howled, but both men were quiet, thinking about their leader, the one whom the State had given power to take this land.
He wasn't as tall as either Gleo or Will, but his aggression made up for his height. His black hair, shaven close to the scalp gave a bulldog appearance
Under Will, his horse shifted from leg to leg.
The man stretched forward, petted its neck and said, "True, I respect 'im, but 'e likes ultimatums too much."
He gave a snort of laughter.
"Do you remember us?"
He gave a side glance at Gleo.
The older man nodded.
"You were friends."
The gulls shrieked at the blue magpie, now surfing the wind. Their wind.
But when they swirled around and their beady eyes widened, their wings stretched and their necks lengthened, the blue magpie kyaked.
Five more of those deep blue birds fluttered out from nowhere, crying at the top of their voices.
The gulls drew back.
"We used to call him ..." Will's volume dropped, and it was only by the gust of wind did Gleo hear what he said.
"We used to call him Maximilian."
A shiver went through Will as he spoke the name.
Naming Number One made him human again, made him normal. He wasn't an object of the State anymore.
A name was powerful. It marked individuality. It was treachery.
Will's voice rose swiftly as he added, "I remember when we were kids we were both easy to anger, fast to attack."
"With both fists and words," added Gleo, winking at Will.
The other man laughed, reached over and shoved him back.
The horses beneath them snorted, shifted apart, and then neared by their masters' bidding.
"Look, Lion'eart," Gleo said, and Will looked up.
The two men's eyes locked well together.
The only noise was the sea splashing against the shore.
"You be careful of Number One."
Gleo lay his hand on Will's chest, near the place where the State had tattooed its mark on him.
"Once that man's got his mind set on something, he won't stop and you know that. If he decides that 'eart of yours is too big, he'll have it taken out."
He swallowed and a shaky breath expelled from his lips; the next words were whispered. No, less: "The man's ambitious and cruel ..."
Rather than finish the sentence, Gleo let it dangle and Will saw what was implied by the unfinished sentence: that Number One had killed his own brother for his title.
Will opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it.
What was there to say?
Gleo shook his head and grasped Will's hand. Beneath them, the horses steadied themselves from the action above.
"It's every man for himself out 'ere."
He rode away stiffly, head bowed against the wind.
The gulls cried shrilly. The blue magpies replied raucously. The waves roared.
Someone shouted Will's name; he turned back.
It was time.
The invasion was under way.
Will swept his hair out of his eyes, not seeing the tattoos on the back of his hand.
He glanced at the sea one last time.
