Monthly Archives: November 2015

MUSIC

An interlude in proceedings. as my Nanowrimo wirting continues at a pace. Today I’ve hit just over 18,000 word altogether. Instead of giving away another  slab of the story so far I thought I’d revive a story that I wrote on here on this day back in 2013 – For my sister in law! 

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Jane had been sitting quietly reading in the living room for the last hour or so. Outside the weather was horrendous. The hurricane that the weather forecasters had been threatening for the past few days had finally hit with a vengeance. The rain was lashing against the huge picture window with the whole force of the storm that had carried it there. Glancing up for a moment from her book she could see the younger trees bending almost horizontal under the force of the winds whilst the older oak was firmly standing its ground, allowing the wind to whip its branches back and forward, giving up the weaker ones to gravity.

Pulling the fleece up around her knees Jane curled her free fingers around the mug of hot coffee she had just made for herself. The book she was reading was part of a series about a group of aspiring and successful artists and friends in the music industry. This one was the third in the series following the ups and downs of a repatriated singer from Catalonia. It had had Jane gripped from the first page.

Entrenched in the story Jane was almost oblivious to anything around her, but little by little she became aware of music playing somewhere else in the house. ‘Strange’ was her immediate thought as there was no-one else home that afternoon. As soon as she concentrated on the music it disappeared, but once she had got back into the story in her book she could vaguely hear the strains of the lilting and gentle melody again.

Putting her book down Jane got up from the sofa intent on finding out where the sound was coming from. She wasn’t sure where to start so headed for the kitchen first. It seemed an unlikely place to start, but she wondered if perhaps she had left the radio on low and that might have been what she had heard.  Opening the door to the kitchen, she could hear the wind whistling around outside, but she couldn’t hear any music. She crossed the floor to the worktop where the radio was, and checked to see if she had left it on, only to find it was in fact unplugged, so no way could that be the source of the music she had heard.

Leaving the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind her she decided to check the study next. She though that perhaps the computer had been left on and was the source of the music. She opened the door to the study slowly to see if she could hear anything.  From a quick glance at the computer in the corner she could tell that it wasn’t turned on.  Her search had drawn another blank.

Back in the hallway she strained her ears to see if she could detect any music coming from anywhere, but could hear nothing. Deciding that her search was a fruitless waste of her time, when she could be enjoying the world of her friends in the book, che returned to the living room and the sofa.

Outside the storm was still blowing wildly. she climbed back on the sofa,pulled the fleece up round her again and picked up her book.  In a few moments she was back in the story and annoyingly once again she heard the distant melody coming from somewhere else in the house.

It hadn’t sounded like the music was coming from upstairs but that was the only place left for it to possibly be. They had only been living in the house for a few months and Jane was still finding out about its little peculiarities. She wondered if this music playing might be one of them.

Setting her book back down on the coffee table she stood up once more to see if she could find the source of the music. Passing through the hallway and past the front door, where she could hear the wind howling outside even more strongly she quickly slipped up the stairs to the upper floor.  As she stood on the upper landing she as sure she could hear the music coming from her bedroom.

For a moment she stood in the same place, just outside the bedroom door wondering what on earth could be going on. There wasn’t even a radio alarm, radio or anything that could be a source of the music in there.  Taking a deep breath she grabbed the handle and pushed the door open quickly.

What she saw made her burst into laughter. Her husband was sitting on the edge of the bed, soaked through to the skin, his hair scarecrow-like, fiddling with the apps on his mobile phone. He must have come home from work early and crept past her as she was deep in her story in the living room.

“Bloody thing,” he said as he looked up. “I dropped it in a puddle on the way in and now it keeps playing burst of music on and off.”

Jane simply stood in the doorway laughing.

“What?” her husband asked. “What?”

11-09 music_notes

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Nanowrimo update / Mistakes

Today I shot over the 25% having written just over 13,000 words so far this month. The story is flowing fairly smoothly, and details become clearer as I write. 

Here’s a bit more from Craig, picking up whee I left off last time…

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Below the message there was a button titled ‘Help’  which if clicked would take him to a specific link.

“Sod that,” he said aloud to the empty room. “That’s where you’ll get me and a bloody virus will infect my pc with a Trojan or something.” He felt quite pleased with himself for spotting that one, even if he wasn’t sure he’d got the terminology spot on.

Craig clicked another couple of buttons and banished the strange email to something his virus-checker called ‘the sand-pit’, which sounded to him far too simple a location to be somewhere safe to dump dangerous items .

Without further thought he turned back to his writing programme and set about making a start on chapter two.

Before he had managed to type more than another ten words the landline rang startling him out of his other world.

“Who the…?” he said to himself as he jumped up and moved into the hallway where the phone was trilling away. “No one calls on the landline anymore, except Barry, and he’ll be well out of it by this time of night.”  The clock on the hallway wall was at just before midnight.

Snatching up the received and pressing the button which opened the line he put it to his ear.

“Hello, Craig speaking,” he said feeling just a little bit formal.

The line crackled slightly, which Craig put down to the weather that was still thrashing about outside, but no one spoke.

“Hello,” Craig said again. “Hello.”

For a few moments he considered that it was probably Halloween pranksters that were having a bit of fun with him. He strained to see if he could hear anything in the background but couldn’t identify any of the noises for definite.

As he was about to take the phone away from his ear and hang up there was ripping sound and a woman’s voice breathed in an hoarse, almost sexy whisper,  “ Craig? Craig? hello?”

Those two words were followed by static and then silence.

“Who’s there?”  Craig asked. “Who is it? What do you want?”

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Mistakes (3)

Jumping forward slightly in the story
                                 and to another location and character …..

Craig

Craig hit the space bar on his lap top five times then settled back in his chair.  It had been a long time since he had got so lost in writing that he was thrilled to see the words rushing onto the pages as his fingers whizzed across the keys, albeit with a whole gamut of typos for correction later.

For the past few months he hadn’t quite had writers’ block more of a lack of intention. Where in his head his writing usually was there had been a space, now it was rapidly filling with images and characters whose stories needed to be told. Well to be honest not a crowd of characters just a few special ones; the ones that were already making the pages of his new… novel perhaps.

For Craig his writing came alive; from his mind to his fingertips to the page and back round to his mind. It felt like a continuous loop. The more he considered his characters the more they gave back to him in the means of their stories to be told.  To Craig his characters came to life. In one of his first books he had felt obliged to kill off a character, and even as he typed now he felt some level of guilt and having caused the other characters in the book pain. He also missed Stanley like he would if he had really been bereaved.  Sometimes the borders between reality and the worlds he created became blurred and he found himself spotting his characters on television, and at time in his day to day life.

Grabbing his mug of tea, which had more or less gone cold, Craig reread the first chapter of this new story that was coming together before his eyes. Once again he marvelled at the process.  Reading the words off his laptop he silently mouthed the words, something that was left over from learning to read as a child, something Sonia said she hoped he never lost.  She said she found it enchanting. Craig wasn’t so sure and wondered if perhaps it just made him look stupid.

After tweaking the vocabulary and grammar here and there, with the help of the ever present auto-correct, Craig was satisfied with this first draft.  He sat back again feeling a sense of accomplishment. He sipped the now cold tea and listened to the storm raging outside.  It really sounded like it was ratcheting it up to be the storm of the century.  Thunder and lightning never worried him. On the contrary they were his friends.  They were friends that had already added a touch of drama to his latest offering.

For a moment he thought of his girlfriend, Sonia, who had gone out to a friend’s early Halloween party. He had tried her mobile a couple of times but had been unable to get any answer. He guessed either the storm was interfering with the signal, or that Sonia couldn’t hear her phone amid the hubbub of the party.  Although Craig loved to dress up, and loved partying too he had decided to stay in and get to grips with the writing while the ideas were alive. If the truth be told he was sure he was having just a good a time sitting in front of his laptop with his newly created characters as he would have had at any party.

All of a sudden the lightning shuttered through the window once more, accompanied by a simultaneous crash of thunder making Craig jump at its ferocity. The storm had to be right overhead at this point he calculated. Within a second or two the lights flickered and his laptop screen went blank, before reappearing moments later with the sign-on screen. Craig had a moment of panic not remembering if he had saved his first draft or not. Signing in he hoped against hope that he had been conscientious enough to have done so.

As the laptop windows opened that he had previously been using he was struck that  the email window appeared on top. Without checking his emails he switched to his writing programme window. As it came to life on the screen he took a deep breath and scrolled up and down. With relief he saw that it was all as it should be. He had been careful enough to save as he had been going along and had lost nothing by the temporary black-out.

In the bottom corner of the page a reminder window was flashing telling Craig that he had two new emails. He clicked the window opening another full screen one with his inbox displayed. The first email was from his credit card company offering a free transfer of any balance on other credit cards. He deleted that without opening it. He had no interest in adding to any credit card account, not while he had a bit of money in the bank.

The other email had no title in the subject line and in the sender information box it appeared that he had sent the email to himself. It looked a bit suspect so he opened it cautiously, after clicking the command telling his virus checker to scan the email for malware. He had had the misfortune to infect his laptop once before by not being cautious enough with a suspicious email.  He wasn’t going to do that again if he could at all help it.

The email opened full screen on his laptop. The only thing the message said was:

“Lost something recently?
Is there a space in your life when once there wasn’t?
We are here to help you get it back.”

you have mail

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Mistakes ……

The story continues ………………………………………………………………………………

……

For too long now she had had enough of the physical and emotional abuse that was being unleashed on her daily and tonight had found the opportunity and strength to break out and get away. She could hardly believe it.

Her mind hadn’t processed anything further than making her escape from the dungeon that Mack had created for her. Still, nothing had changed, rushing along the dark streets with the rain lashing against her face she had no clear plan of what she was going to do. To her this was a strange town and she had no idea where she was or where she was going, but at least she was getting away.

Huddled inside the blanket she felt her baby sneeze.  Instinctively she pulled the blanket tighter to her breast. Her baby was all she had in the world and she couldn’t even begin to think about losing him.  Yet those thoughts still pushed insistently into her mind as she felt him shiver and sneeze again.

The lightning lit up the sky and the wet streets with a sporadic regularity, followed by thunder loud enough to rattle windows and doors. Tanita was petrified.  Everywhere she looked she saw danger, even imagining she had seen Mack’s face in some of the shop windows as she ran by. All of a sudden the street lamps went out and the town was plunged further into darkness. Now only the latent light from the windows of the buildings lit up the streets. Although this would probably help Tanita’s escape she found that the outside world was such a scary place and she almost regretted her decision to escape. The further she got from Mack’s hideous grasp should have made her feel easier, but she couldn’t let her guard down for a second.

Tanita’s stomach rumbled almost as loudly as the thunder overhead. She couldn’t remember when Mack had last fed her, but thought that it hadn’t been at any point that day.  The gruel he fed her, although nutritious never satisfied her desire for fresh food.  She vaguely remembered eating pineapple so very  long ago in her past. The thought that someday she may once again get to eat such a delight made her salivate and her stomach groan even more energetically.  She would have to find some food soon or she wouldn’t be able to continue at such a pace, and feeding her baby would be just as important.

Once again Tanita’s instincts kicked in. She looked around in the hope of spotting some place to find some food, but could see nothing in the almost pitch black.  She sniffed the air to see if she could locate and aromas that might give the game away of a food store nearby, and thought she could smell something edible.  Clutching her baby tighter to her breast she picked up her pace and set off in the direction in which she was sure food might be found.

…….

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Nanowrimo – Day One

Nanowrimo challenge day one and I’m happy to report things are going great guns. I hope everyone else who is participating is as happy with their progress too…

Screenshot 2015-11-01 16.43.13

I am pleased to report that  I’ve surpassed the daily minimum necessary to complete (1,666) having got just over 2,000 words on the page.
It’s a new genre for me and I’m loving it. Suspense and thrills – well at least I hope that’s how it reads. And I have a special feeling for my heroine and Hero.

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Mistakes

So here it is – the start of my new novel ….. and I really have no idea where things are going to go… 

 

Tanita

Clutching her baby closely to her chest she ran down the rain soaked street.  It wasn’t a good night to be out as the promised storm lashed the coastal town with a force greater than predicted. The lamplights cast pools of light and dingy shadows full of promise. At the same time the rain and lighting caused disturbing shadows and frightening images in every doorway and plate glass window and door.

Running as if her young life depended on it she was careful to stay hidden in the shadows. She wanted nobody to see her, and luckily the weather meant there was hardly anyone around. The storm had sent the whole town’s population heading for cover on this fateful night in October. Now everyone was holed up for the night in their warm homes. This year there would be no trick or treating, or at least none of the traditional kind that usually filled the streets.

As she ran she could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. She could also feel her baby’s laboured breathing through the blanket she had snatched up and wrapped him  in as part of their escape. Although her thoughts were jumbled and her mind consumed by fear she also felt a kind of elation that at last she was free, that they were both free from Mack and his cruel ways.

 

Any thoughts? Comments? suggestions? Encouragement? ….

 

11 - Mistake

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Filed under Adult, Contemporary, horror, Thriller/Mystery