Prompt number 4 on the 30 Day Writing Challenge is…
Create a character off the top of your head and write a short history of him/her. Oh yes! You know how I love to create characters 🙂
Tag Archives: Online Writing
The Dream Vacation
Number 3 of the 30 Day Writing Challenge prompts is:
If you could go on vacation anywhere in the world where would you go? Use vivid detail and prose to describe the experience you would like to have.
This photo was taken in Spain.
Where I Turn Into Agatha Christie
Welcome to my 2nd instalment of the 30 Day Writing Challenge 🙂
Day 2 – Open a book – pick a sentence and use that as the first line in a piece.
Ok, so I picked a book from my shelf, copied out a sentence in my notebook and put the book back. Do you think I can blooming remember which book it was? LMAO!
“The gateman didn’t ask him about the drowsy man with the dark sunglasses who was half asleep on the passenger seat.”
So he drove straight through and into the large enclosed courtyard.
“Good evening Sir.” Yates approached the car and opened the drivers door.
“Good evening Yates. I’m afraid Mr Ramsey is slightly worse for wear.”
Yates peered across at the slouched figure of Ramsey. “Oh dear Sir, did Mr Ramsey consume too much champagne in London?”
Edward Mandrell pulled at the sports cars hand brake, turned off the ignition and released his seat belt. He climbed out of his seat as Yates held the door.
“Ah, you know him well Yates!” Edward slapped the butler on the back as he made his way up the stone steps to the front door, taking two at a time. At the open door he paused and turned. “Is my wife at home Yates?”
“Yes sir, she’s in the library.”
Without even a thank you Edward entered the imposing Victoria mansion.
Edward was born in India to a family who considered themselves Aristocracy. Truth be told, it was only his great grandfather who had made the family’s fortune, prior to that the Mandrells had been farmers in Somerset. But thanks to an unfortunate sinking of a cargo ship and great grandfather George’s opportunistic nature the family estate in Bath now included thousands of acres and a stately home that rivalled Buckingham Palace. Edward was sure he had only ever been in a 3rd of the rooms the house contained. As a small boy he’d become lost in the East Wing, which put an end to his exploring.
He made his way purposefully to the library. It had been several days since he’d seen his wife Daphne and there was much to discuss. He threw open the double oak doors.
“Darling!” He expected to see Daphne sitting in her favourite chair, book in hand, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose, but her chair was empty.
His eyes searched the room for some clue to her location. A lit cigarette in the ashtray or a hot cup of tea on the table beside her chair would indicate she’d just left the room, but neither of these things were present.
But as he entered, the doors creaked as they swayed closed behind him, revealing one of his wife’s navy shoes, sticking out from behind the overstuffed chaise lounge. And then, he noticed the blood…..
I wrote this one morning in the main lounge at Swanwick, inspired by the photos adorning the walls of what the house looked like in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s.
Ok, this will probably end up languishing in my notebook, and before you ask, no, I don’t know who Ramsey is, what they were doing in London, or what’s happened to poor Daphne *sniggers*
Be interested to hear your ideas and thoughts 🙂
Our Children’s Reading Habits
I don’t normally post on a Saturday, but just had to share this with you all.
I recently did an article/interview with Jane Ayres for
Check out The Changing Reading Habits of Our Children and please leave a comment…I would love you forever 🙂
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Once Upon A Time…
The first prompt on the 30 Day Writing Challenge is Start a piece with…
Once upon a time, on a dark and stormy night. No, seriously, it was an ordinary day, in an ordinary street where my story begins. An average suburban semi on a tree lined avenue, much like many others. My name is Conscience, but you can call me Connie and this definitely ain’t no fairy tale!
You don’t know my face, my hair colour, what shade of lipstick I wear, but you DO know me, intimately. You see, I’m the one who hovers at your shoulder every time you make a decision. I whisper in your ear, pull at your gut, and try my hardest to help you make the RIGHT choice. It doesn’t always work though. I have my successes, AND my failures. And you humans, you rarely disappoint with the ridiculous predicaments you get yourselves into. But I’ve been in this game so long now that nothing shocks me. I’m not moaning though, if you didn’t, I’d be out of a job.
Standing outside number 26 Newport Avenue I’m struck with how perfect the garden is. How every flower has been planted with care and purpose and the grass looks like someone has been cutting it with a pair of scissors. There is an inviting glow coming from the gothic bay window. Shall we go inside?
This is an experiment….and tied up with my Nano 2013 novel. I’m trying to get Connie’s voice right. She will be the narrator of the story. Your opinions would be much appreciated. 🙂
Richard Wrights 52 Project
Want to help writer Richard Wright write 52 stories? Damn I wish I’d thought of this lol
Richards looking for 52 photos, as prompts for 52 stories which he hopes to turn into an anthology. You will receive full credit if he uses your picture.
I sent one to Richard a few days ago, one that I took at Leeds Castle earlier this year, with the intention of using it as a prompt myself.
I can’t wait to see what story he comes up with 🙂
If you’d like to collaborate with Richard on his “The 52” project you’ll find all the info HERE on Richards web site 🙂
I LOVE this idea and just wish I’d thought of it first lol. Have you ever collaborated with another writer on a project before?
Writing Blogger Challenge Day 9
Today’s prompt is:
Post either a setting or character profile from your latest fiction project, a chapter summary of your non-fiction book, or a discussion of the theme or object inspiring a poem, article, or other writing project.
Hmmmmmm *thinks* Well, I’ve shared the character profiles of my first novel (Still) but I’m afraid the characters in Tangled and Sorrento Sunrise are somewhere, within the pages of my 41 notebooks (and at this stage I’m thinking I really should have some kind of indexing system!). So rather than try to trawl through all my notebooks I’ll give you a new one 🙂
Last night I wrote the beginnings of yet another story (prompted by something in Natalie Goldberg’s Wild Mind). Ms Goldberg suggested making a list…
A Colour Blue (the sky over London on a September morning)
A City London
A Street Charlotte Street (where I meet the Faber gang and the location of my story)
A Fruit Mango (what my character finds in his lunch box lol)
A Month September
A Job Newsagent (newspaper seller)
And then to write a piece containing all of them…. So this character profile is from the story I came up with last night.
Bill Taylor is 62 years old. Born and bred in East London he is proud of his roots and his first job at 14 was on a market stall in Petticoat Lane, selling “bits and bobs” to local housewives.
Short and stocky, he is now balding, what little hair he has left is white but he still has the cheeky blue eyes and dimpled chin that made him so popular in the 1960’s.
Married to Marjorie since the 1970’s they have 2 sons who both live overseas, and 2 grand daughters they rarely see. On his left arm he has Marjorie’s name tattooed and on his right arm, the names of his sons.
Bill runs a newsagents in London selling to the commuters as they make their way to the tube station. Business has taken a dip these past couple of years due to the digital age (everyone getting the news on their phones) so Marjorie is trying to persuade him to retire and buy a little flat by the sea. Bill couldn’t think of anything worse! Since his heart attack last year, Marjorie has been filling his lunch box with what he terms as “rabbit food” and insists that he stick to the diet recommended by the doctor.
A very proud man, he is a traditionalist with high morals and strong views of what is right and wrong. A Royalist, his proudest moment was meeting Princess Diana when she stopped at his shop to buy a bottle of water and a pack of sweets for Wills and Harry.
In his spare time (what little there is as he has to be at the shop for 4.30 every morning) he enjoys football (but sadly doesn’t go to the matches anymore…he used to take his sons) and likes to keep up to date with current affairs. He often says “what’s the point of selling newspapers if you don’t know what’s going on in the world” and can often be found reading the papers behind his counter when the shop is empty.
He drives a small old white van that’s constantly breaking down and although he owns his shop (he inherited it from an uncle back in the 1980’s) which is prime London real estate, he has no intention of selling and is adamant that they will have to “cart him out in a box” which causes tension and arguments with Marjorie.
I think that’s it 🙂 I don’t know what’s going to happen to old Bill, I haven’t got that far in the story yet lol, but, you know me, Bill will probably end up getting his wish of being carted out in a box 😉
if you try Ms Goldberg’s list idea, do let me know, I’d be interested to hear what you come up with.
Related articles
- Writing Blogger Challenge Day 4 (the-view-outside.com)
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Writing Blogger Challenge – Day 1
I must admit, I’ve been thinking my blog is/was a little stale recently. So this morning when I was reading blogs and having a major catch up I noticed that one of my favourite bloggers, Hunter Emkay is hosting a Writing Blogger Challenge which will run for 10 days. Ok, well that sounds interesting.
So I’ve signed up 🙂 (you know me, I like to be stretched lol).
So today is Day 1 of the challenge and the prompt is…
Introduce your latest writing project with an elevator pitch or maximum 250 words.
Now you all know everything about two of my novels (Still & Tangled) but I have a 3rd one lol. During Nano last year I decided to write, or rather, try to write a Mills and Boon novel *sniggers* I managed it, but, in just under 22,000 words, which is well short of the 50,000 that is required. So it will need some major editing, I need to add more angst, and add two sex scenes *blush*
So here is my 250 word pitch for Sorrento Sunrise
Kate works for a travel magazine and when her boss asks her to visit a hotel in Sorrento to interview the owner, little does she know that the sexy, dark Italian will become more than just another assignment.
After a hellish journey and mistaking him for a bellboy, Damiano initially thinks that Kate is a typical arrogant journalist, but he soon changes his mind as they get to know each other intimately on the hotels private beach and over the course of her stay.
Damiano asks Kate to meet him in the bar on her last night where he is planning to ask her to stay on, but when Kate arrives she see’s him with another woman and flees back to England.
Damiano tries to contact Kate but she refuses to speak to him or respond to his e mails, having now researched him online and discovering the string of Italian models he’s been photographed with over the last few years. Already having arrangements to visit London Damiano goes to Kates house with a huge bouquet of roses but as he gets out of the taxi he see’s her hugging a man who is holding a toddler.
Angry, and thinking he has been lied to he continues with his business in London, the purchase of a new hotel and decides to get on with his life, trying to forget about Kate.
Several months pass and Kate is given an assignment to attend a new London hotel opening. She is shocked and embarrassed when the owner gets up on a podium to make a speech and it is Damiano. Their eyes meet and Damiano realises that he can’t get on with his life unless Kate explains herself. Having traditional family values he is shocked that she could have been the way she was in Sorrento knowing her husband and child were waiting at home.
After a small “scene” at the party Damiano finally manages to drag Kate to his office and demands an explanation. Kate is shocked and after explaining that the child is hers but she is a widow and that the man was her brother Damiano feels an idiot. But Kate doesn’t let him off the hook easily. She demands to know who the woman was that she saw him draped all over in the bar. Damiano explains that she was his cousin.
Ha ha ha….that’s 394 words and I haven’t even told you how it ends! But it is a Mills and Boon, so I’m sure you know lol
Oh well, I think I’m gunna need to work on that.
Any guesses as to how it ends? 😉
Tangled – The Synopsis
Well, its gone off in the post to The Romantic Novelists Association *bites finger nails* So i thought I’d share the synopsis.
It’s not exactly a synopsis, more like a blurb lol
Tangled is a novel about love, loyalty and the consequences of betrayal.
Anna Scott is a middle aged housewife who is bored with her life. Marriage and the pressures of bringing up children have left her overweight and tired. What happened to the fun loving girl she used to be?
Her husband Tim, several years older and recently retired, is content to potter around his garden and spend the rest of his days relaxing. Anna feels that life is slipping her by and whilst on a girls night out with her best friend she meets Harry, who she once knew as a twelve year old boy when she was involved in his case in her professional capacity, as a social worker.
Against her friends advice she agrees to meet him for a coffee, just to catch up with how his life has changed. But Harry makes it obvious that he wants more than just a mutual friendship. Flattered, Anna soon finds herself involved in a passionate affair with a man 12 years her junior.
Harry tries to persuade her to leave Tim and after she stalls he visits Tim and tells him of the affair. Unbeknown to Harry, Anna has recently aborted his child and Tim takes great pleasure in telling Harry so..
Anna decides to stay with Tim but Harry starts to stalk her. He becomes aggressive and even sets fire to Tim’s car. As Anna and Tim start to rebuild their marriage Tim is found dead on the living room floor, stabbed by a knife that is missing from Anna’s expensive knife block. But who are the suspects? Harry seems the obvious choice, but did Anna really want the boring housewife life after experiencing the excitement of Harry? Or could Tim’s first wife Fay (the one he left to be with Anna) hold the key to Tim’s final hours?
Yeah, ok, it’s definitely more like a blurb isn’t it lol 😉 But that might have something to do with the fact that I haven’t really decided who did kill Tim lol. I have a theory, I know who I’d like to see as the killer, and I know how I want the book to end. It’s completely finished, so at the moment the reader is kind of left wondering who the murderer is.
Photo courtesy of Master isolated images at Freedigitalphotos
What do you think? Who killed Tim? 😉
Free Writing In The Lake District
Standing in the grounds of the hotel as there’s nowhere to sit. Everything is covered in a fine layer of rain. The air smells clean, earthy, like a box of button mushrooms and the only sound is the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. Even the birds are fed up with the incessant wetness. They sit huddled on branches and dry stone walls, their feathers puffed up.
Is this really summer? The only animals that seem to like this weather are the Llamas in the field next to the hotel. They lay down on the wet grass and click their tongues at each other. I guess if I had a thick wooly coat like that I wouldn’t mind it so much either!
The Lake District…a place loved by writers, poets. An inspiration to artists so they keep telling me. But is that because it just seems so miserable? A place that suits a tortured soul? Perhaps I’m just not depressed enough to appreciate it. I just want to go home now, back to my concrete town where everyone shops at Icelands and where the Llamas would be well advised to wear a bullet proof vest over that warm wooly coat.
It’s not really that rough where I live….a slight exaggeration, but only slight 😉
No seriously, it’s a beautiful place but I didn’t find it as inspiring as I thought I would, or was told I would. Perhaps it was just too cold and wet? It got me thinking, what place would I find inspiring? And it has to be the beach, no doubt about it 🙂
What kind of place do you find inspiring?
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The View Outside 