I feel like I've sunk into the belly of a story-hoarding beast. I can dimly see the mouth and I'm trying to climb out with ladders made from sentences. But often I find they only lead me deeper into the guts.
In his darkest hours he'd always found comfort in the thought that the world itself might just be a particularly vivid dream in the mind of some ageless sleeper. But, as he heard footsteps approaching outside the hut, the thought seemed dry and impotent against this wet morning that lay quiet before him, in wait for his blood.
I'm working on a children's story at the moment, which should be finished in a week or two... or maybe today if I keep drinking coffee! Anyway, I started writing what was supposed to be a two-line aside about a bit character. Something like "He looked a little like this and he was such and … Continue reading Carried Away
Well, good morning! It's currently 5:44 am here in the land of Oz. Daughter is asleep in my bed after coming in last night and stealing all the blankets (she's so tiny, how does she do it?), traffic is roaring along Station Street ten metres from my open window, and I'm writing my novel. Feels … Continue reading The Novel: Update #1 + sneak peak!
One autumn morning, little Cecilia hopped up before her mum and dad and went out to the backyard. The sky was still dark and there was a thin mist across the yard. It had been raining all week and a thick patch of mushrooms had sprouted in the grass...