Tag: love story

Pernille Hughes and her gym buddies have given me a lust for progress 💪🏼

May 10, 2019

There is nothing to dislike about this story.

I have over eight novels which I’ve started and not yet finished because I have an addiction – reading the first page to see if it hooks, I then buy and read a few chapters before putting the new book to one side and promising to come back to it “after I’ve finished the others“!

Something kept me reading this though. Maybe the writing style being easy on the eye when my brain is so full of my CBC coursework made it a relaxing reading experience. The petals of humour falling upon each page are utterly hilarious and had me laughing out loud with recognition. Pernille writes characters so relatable you expect to bump into them in your town… well hopefully not Aaron. 

The hopes and dreams of Tiffanie have been created with care and passion. I wanted and needed her to succeed, against all the odds. This is why I had to finish this book. I learnt things about boxing along the way and might just go and buy a skipping rope…

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07BK163PS?ref=cm_sw_em_r_rw_mw_7h8pedii3rnin

How can I lose weight when I’m sitting on my arse typing these days! I may not be medically classed as overweight but I’m a stone and a half – 20lbs I suppose I should say – heavier than I was two years ago and than I was all my adult life. And I don’t like it.

Having hit 50 (if I keep saying it, I’ll eventually believe it) I’m now ready to think about getting fitter, yet I fear my body got bored of waiting around while I brought up the kids and started my business twelve years ago. Bugger.

Healthier choices on the food front will surely help….

(*cough*)

The End

January 20, 2019

Don’t panic. I don’t mean the end of me or this blog, although I know my previous post (not counting the shared post this morning) may have left you wondering about my wellbeing. I think Christmas really stressed me out. The hype, expectation and so on. Anyway. Tis done .. for another few months before it all starts again.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Guess what?

I wrote to the end of my novel and typed THE END!

I was typing the final chapter with the laptop balanced on my knee as Man of the Woods drove across the England/Scotland border en route to a 3-day trip to his sister’s. They live north of the Cairngorms, so once you think you’ve got to Scotland, you’ve still three and half hours to go.

It’s been a while since I posted, and those final words to finish the first draft were what I was concentrating on, rather than posting here.

I reached 77,000 by the end.

I’ve since started a first read-through – on paper, armed with a pink pen. Not so much editing as literally reading the whole thing through as if it’s someone else’s work, to see if the story flows, asking myself if the characters ‘work’, the timings of births and deaths mentioned make sense.

I used small font, in 1.3 line spacing and used both sides of the paper to save sheets.

Approx 157 x A4 sides to ‘edit’. I aimed for 25 per day each day of last week and am presently at 127, itching to get back on the laptop but know that first I have to get back to THE END, just like I did when I was laying out the initial story.

It was incredibly powerful, how writing those two words actually turned out to be. I’d heard hundreds of times ‘just keep writing’ … ‘get to the end of the draft’ … but I always found it hard to reach when so much of what I’d written I knew needed work. However, it was liberating to visualise the final scene and get something down because they suddenly I had a whole beginning, middle and end thing going on.

The fact I am setting my final scene in Edinburg felt fitting that I should be typing that scene while we drove past it!

Lots hasn’t worked I assure you! I’ve crossed out plenty of rubbish amateur sentences which added nothing other than word-count; I’ve killed off a dog and a secondary character who brought nothing to the story.

I’m aware I shall be down on word-count once I get back on the laptop and implement the changes this coming week. However, I plan to replace lost useless words with new and relevant examples; ones which will deepen every scene as I do a second run-through.

I’ve heard authors give these editing stages correct names. I believe I’m doing them in a sensible order as I didn’t want to do the spellcheck and grammar details until a final run through or I will have potentially wasted time making improvements to paragraphs which were going to get the chop anyway!

I no longer want to call it The Key to Verona, the feedback I received last summer was spot on which said “It makes it sound historical which it’s not, and anyway, you don’t mention Verona.”

I’ve had a couple of other ideas but am following the advice of people who know about these things … leave it to see if any agent or publisher might wish to title it for me.

I love my male character, Antonio. I can see him, feel his pain and am aware what he wants from life and I know how to help him achieve it 🖤

I saw this actor play the part of Mr Oak in ‘Far From The Madding Crowd’ … my God! Have you seen it? You simply must watch it. He has all the attributes that I’d written in for my Antonio. He’s quiet, respectful, focused, calm. But he’s passionate and stronger than the other two suitors in Thomas Hardy’s beautiful novel which I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read 🙈

I’m still struggling with Martha. I don’t know what she looks like, or what her attractive qualities might be to help a reader like her. Strange that …

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

So, what are you all reading so far in 2019?

I’m presently half way through Ali Harris’ ‘The First Last Kiss’ which is great .. a good old romantic tale of the angst of first loves and .. well, I’ll tell you when I’ve finished it!

… and my next read, has probably got to be this!

I’m hoping Matsu is not dead, and simply wearing his winter costume?!

The perfect kiss

March 5, 2018

The first Bridget Jones Diary film.

Final scene.

Snow.

Anxiety she’s lost his interest….

www.youtube.com/watch

“Wait a minute – nice boys don’t kiss like that!”

“Oh yes they fucking do.”

I always loved how that ended… while not all lovestories end with a happy outcome, sometimes we all love a big hug and this gives. It works because it has the anxiety she was feeling at his departure from her space, the thrill of the mini chase, his unreadable (for a moment) demeanour, the chemistry which has been building throughout the film… then the relief that their embrace instills within. That bond. That satisfaction. These are the elements I know Mills & Boon readers are used to and expect. My story may or may not conclude in this way – I am still struggling with the plot now I’ve reached a third way in…

Happy Monday!

I’m off to write Part 2 of the Bahamas 🖌

(photo credit to the film makers… )

When rejection leads to improvement

February 20, 2018

images

As promised, Harlequin Mills & Boon did indeed send me some feedback today on that potential first chapter and synopsis which I rather rushed in order to submit before the competition deadline last Thursday.

Their email is a reassuring mix of helpful tips where I have let myself down and positive praise – they like my ‘voice’ and say my style has potential.  They explained the difference between a synopsis and the blurb on the back of a book (which is what my synopsis looked more like).  Blurbs are what we read stood at WHS in the airport when we’ve thirty eight seconds to choose a book before that final call to the departure lounge.

Synopsis is more of a map illustrating the journeys the main characters take within the plot.  Importantly, and quite surprisingly, it should include an outline of the ending.   A potential publisher or agent need to know this even before they get into your whole manuscript.  I suppose this is what is meant by the arc of a book’s journey.  The hook in the opening chapter …. the map listing all the important junctions where characters make decisions … through to the conclusion.   You’ll not find that on the back of a book and now I more fully understand the anxieties of writers who struggle when writing their synopsis.

The ‘covering letter’ is the ‘pitch’.  That one chance to shine above all the other submission letters on that agent/publisher’s desk.  There is obviously an art to this too; as there was no feedback on that :-s

However, I am excited that they gave me two links.  One leading to great advice about synopsis writing, and I have printed the contents for some bedtime reading and a second  inviting me to submit a ‘new project’ as Radhanagari Damsel (in its slightly altered attire for M&B) was not quite right for this particular series – True Love – of Mills & Boon.

M&B do work to formulas, and these obviously pay off for their loyal readers and the authors within each series.  Their website is quite worth a wonder round if you write romance as they are alway looking for new authors.  This is not to say my submitted chapter one would not be accepted by contemporary womens’ fiction publishers elsewhere.  I shall keep and develop it further when I’ve more time, putting back the thriller element, which I took out for the competition.   I mean, JK Rowling was rejected plenty of times before someone took a punt on her!

My main WIP as you may recall is presently one aimed at the RNA’s New Writers Scheme (NWS).  This is the Romantic Novelists Association‘s annual initiative to also find and assist new writers, and I am one of 300 lucky people on this year’s scheme, aiming to submit as many words as I can by August (yeah, and how many did you write this morning? All of 379).  They recommend between 80,000 and 120,000 for a decent novel, but one huge piece of memorable advice I brought back from that meeting in London a few days ago was keep typing and ‘Submit a ‘partial’ if you’ve not been able to complete it in time.  Don’t waste the opportunity for a read and feedback’.  And that snippet of anxiety-reducing information was given to me by a longterm member of the RNA, a multi-published author in her own right; OMG, I can’t believe I didn’t curtsy, and turned out one of the readers on the NWS!  If you are new to me and didn’t see my post about that enlightening meeting, find it here.

So, a good day in the office I feel.  My perception of my life right now Ben? Mike? is a positive glass-half-full type of vibe.

Have a free istock photo of Tuscany to get you in the mood … Lucy is about to meet a man who is going to disagree with her contemporary plans for the vineyard; he’s run it perfectly satisfactorily for the previous forty years thank you very much.

PS  I’ve just had a genius idea – you know how I like my mini goals?  What if I promise you that every single post from now on, I finish with my WIP wordcount so you can watch it grow, (or not as the case may be).   Absolute genius; you’ll be like a virtual homework marker now .. and there you were thinking you could get away with merely reading my waffle, rather than having to take note of numbers!

Wordcount: 21,956

 

 

Dust and tears … Radhanagari Damsel: part 4 (#wordprompt)

December 31, 2017

Finally
via Daily Prompt: Finally

For months now he had wanted to hold her, bury his nose in her silky hair, whisper nothings to her delicate neck, but not like this.  John’s fingers moved dust-covered hair from her face, her eyelashes meeting over closed eyes, her body limp in his arms.  The rumbling of the aftershocks evident every few minutes as the ground shook beneath them.  He had moved her to the road, away from the wooden office structure perched on the top of the dam.

Ramesh was running, talking frantically into a walkie talkie which John noticed an hour before, attached to a utility belt, as they had together investigated the turbine room.   No sign of Aditya who had moved the car at the first warning, away from the crest.  John watched the ground, as shingle and small stones jumped and bobbed around him, shimmying along in the same direction for three or four seconds before resting.   Riya was breathing but unconscious, drying blood glued itself to her temple.

“Ramesh!  Get a fucking move on with that kit!”

“It’s here!” the engineer appeared again sprinting the few yards from the office, box in hand, the walkie talkie babbling all the time.  He dropped the box and a litre bottle of water on the ground, touched John’s shoulder and spoke back,

“Adi, the ambulance is on its way for Riya; John’s with her.  Where the hell are you?”

“Gimme your jacket, quick!” ordered John, not taking his eyes from her face, but holding his right arm up to leave Ramesh in no doubt as to what was expected of him.

Manoeuvring Riya’s head from the crook of his left elbow, John carefully arranged the makeshift pillow with his right hand, before opening the first aid box.   He used wipes to gently assess her temple wound, pouring fresh water from the bottle to clean further down her cheeks.   He found saline, fresh cotton wool and was relieved the wound was small which he covered with a basic dressing.  He took a swig from the bottle as the next rumble began; he watched the water level shudder, circles attempting to escape but finding instead the circumference and bouncing back.

Ramesh’s voice travelled up from somewhere near but out of sight.  “John! Adi is also hurt – come!”

He was torn.  How could he leave Riya exposed to falling rocks from the hillside?  He searched the immediate landscape for somewhere more safe to lie her but just as he lifted her off the ground, he caught sight of Aditya, his arm around Ramesh’ shoulders and bearing weight on only one leg.  “Come to this piece of flat land!”  John called back over his shoulder as he walked his previous cargo and the others followed.  Around a slight bend in the road the hill flattened out and there was less risk from falling debris.   In the distance a siren offered an increasing hope of medical attention and John paused, exhausted not with the weight of the beautiful girl in his arms, but with the anguish that she may be more hurt inside than could be seen.  He wanted to make her better, he wanted to look into her eyes, wanted to see her smile.

As the ambulance drew closer and the lights flashed their arrival, the ground vibrated more than before, making them all fall to their hands and knees.   Covering Riya’s face with his body, John prayed for it to stop.   It did giving them long enough to receive immediate roadside attention before being placed inside the vehicle for the return journey to the nearest hospital.    As they sat in silence, all moving in unison with the vehicle’s twists and turns along the road, they each stared at their sister, PA, friend; the men each engrossed in their thoughts.   The paramedic attached various patches and lines to monitors and Riya’s body became the charge of the professionals.

John rested his elbows on his knees and allowed his head to drop so no-one could see his face.  He fought the sting of tears threatening their appearance behind his eyelids and swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut while the motion of the ambulance and the anguished squeal of the siren dulled as he visualised Riya’s voice speaking to him in her velvet tones only an hour before when they had made their way down the steps inside the dam’s inner structure.

It was no good, he couldn’t stop them.  He cursed himself as they forced their way out, much like the water through the dam’s seep holes.  His silent tears collected this time on his lips, then fell to the floor, just as he felt his hand being touched.  He moved his head a little and his intake of breath was audible as he saw Riya’s fingers reach for his own.  He looked at her face, covered in dust, blood and now tears were creating clean channels through the dust on her perfect skin.  Finally, she had opened those beautiful eyes and chosen him to be their first picture.  She smiled at John and his tears continued through relief.   This girl was something and John knew instantly what he had to do.

(Image – google images)

TO READ PART 1 – PRESS HERE

TO READ PART 5 – PRESS HERE