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Monday, 21 February 2011

Family Emergency

My writing is out the window until further notice. Got a phone call from police 3am thurs to say my nan had not been seen for couple of days but neighbour heard banging on wall.My nan had been on floor for two days.Suspected stroke , bleeding on brain,internal bleeding,kidney failure, hypothermia. They have now said not a stroke or bleeding on brain.She can not walk and is confused so i need to go up the hospital every day.She told my mum she was dead.Went down well.Hopefully back soon

Monday, 14 February 2011

New Guide To Writing Paranormal Fiction

I have just noticed a new book coming out 25 March called

Writing the Paranormal Novel: Techniques and Exercises for Weaving Supernatural Elements into Your Story by Steven Piziks

sounds like it could be interesting .I will review it when i can get my hands on a copy. Here is a link for more info

Sweetest Blog Award Win !!!!!!!

Thank you Shah Wharton for nominating my blog for your award. I am really glad you enjoy it.
When i started my blog I did not want a place to just display my writing and on which to moan about my frustrations.I wanted to create a starting point for others who are also attempting to write a novel for the first time.Which is why I have included many links to sites and books that i have found useful in my research.
I have also included links to things such as music, music videos and author interviews that inspire me to keep going.I love watching the author interviews on YouTube.I have included links to some of my favourites. There are still lots more things i would like to do with this blog when i have the time and have gained more computer skills.
Thanks again!
Please check out her super site at

Thursday, 10 February 2011

Scene from AWAKEN .Takes place on London underground

 (please excuse any mistakes as it is just a rough work in progress)

City workers huddled head down in their scarf's, briefcase in hand, minds already on the day ahead as they strode briskly on towards the nearest tube station.

Stepping down into the mouth of the underground tube station Amelie was swept along in the racing tide of workers. Along a landon and then deeper, deeper into the commuter bowels of the earth.
Feeling the strong pull of eyes studying her she looks around her at the crushed sardines of commuters lined up waiting for their can to arrive. No one person made eye contact. Eyes down cast or in financial newspapers. Young hot shots tapping toes to the tune playing loudly in their ears. Everyone feared everyone in this day and age of gangs and terrorism. No good morning or friendly banter. Fear of offending another living person caused neighbour not to want to know neighbour . All stood like autistic beings unwilling to reach out.
The underground sardine can arrives with a rumble and warm wind . All push on through the narrow gap in a  cluster.

Managing to find a seat Amelie sits down on the cool plastic mould on the underground train as it shakes and rattles away from the station. Neon lights flash and flicker as the London commuter train rumbles along.
The warm breeze rushing through the crowded carriage rustles her hair. As she begins to relax back into the too hard orange seat the brushing breeze seems to cool and cool the temperature dropping rapidly. Ice fingers seem to glide down her pale cheek. The rattling and rolling noise of the rushing carriage seems to dim to a muffled hum and buzz. Amelie looks about her apprehensively breath caught in her too tight chest. Sitting taller in her cold seat she holds herself stiffly . All the heads of her fellow commuters are turned away from her , facing the reflective mirror like glass of the thick rectangle windows. Lights continue to flash and flicker flicker as the train gains speed in the midnight black tunnels. Flash, flash....every new flash of light illuminates the fellow commuters faces in the glass. Flash, flash, faster, faster... but with every flash it is not the distracted faces of living souls that can be seen in the smudged window panes but the fleshless faces of deceased beings . Fleshless skulls with bottomless deathly black pools in the sockets where eyes should have been. Hard jaws agape with jagged stained teeth. The decayed jaws of the crowd swing open and close as one like a fish staring blankly.

“Amelie , Amelie” they seem to whisper chillingly as one.

“Its coming Amelie, its coming” they gargle.

She tries to stand but feels frozen in place. A scream is scratching at her throat fighting desperately to get out . Her violently shaking hand grabs the cold steel pole to her left but slips off the wet, slick metal. Her trembling white hand comes away coated with still warm, freshly spilled scarlet blood. Trying desperately to make her shaking petite body stand her blue trainer encased feet slip on the slick wet blood soaked floor.
Finally springing to her feet like a bullet shot from a gun she stumbles into the coated body of the dark haired man standing in front on her causing him to stumble into the bodies squashed in front of him like a row of knocked dominoes.

“Hey” he proclaims angrily turning to face the source of his dismay. Lights suddenly brightened and muted sounds rose in level like a volume button turned up to level. Amelie stared back into the brown eyes of the plump man staring back at her . Looking around the carriage various living faces stared back at her with suspicious eyes.

The stopped carriages doors open with a slow whoosh as the people continue to stare.

“I am sorry” Amelie mumbles as she rushes for the door, head down. The doors slide shut in front on her with a bang. Forcing trembling fingers in the crack Amelie desperately tried to prise the doors open , breaking finger nails in the process. Final the doors slid open. Amelie dove into the waiting masses pushing insistently through.

Finally reaching the fresh air of the above street level she desperately gasped for breath as if drowning . Looking about her the world seemed to tilt and spin as the panic attack took hold robbing her of her senses.

Friday, 4 February 2011

How big is a chapter?

I have always had a wild imagination and love writing but about some things I am an obsessive perfectionist. I am constantly trying to find out how many words are in the average size novel, How big or small should paragraphs be,do I need spaces between paragraphs?

One of the things I also get obsessed about is how many chapters should there be and how big? I know I should just forget these details and just write for the joy of writing but there is a part of my obsessive mind I can`t switch off. I believe finding the answers to by questions by reading hundreds of articles and books will benefit me in learning the art anyway.

This week I found an article on Anthony Morgani kindle blog in which he made some good points .He revealed that the average novel has forty to sixty scenes and that some writers use each scene as a chapter in their novel. These scenes/chapters are then sometimes broken up into different points of view. It is also recommended that every chapter should end in a question that can only be answered by reading the following chapter.Keep that reader hooked.

A point that I have never thought of before is that we all live in a busy world and most don`t have the luxury to sit and read for hours in one go.By having many short, sharp chapters it allows the reader to complete a whole chapter at a time in those rare spare moments.

If you aim to write on average 2,000 for each scene/chapter you will be on target to have a good length novel. He advise that a novel should be between 80,000 and 120,000 words. I have also in the past been given the great advice of thinking of each chapter as its own short story. This way the 100,000 target word count will not seem so intimidating.

I must also point out that when you ask how long a chapter should be some may answer how long is a piece of string? A chapters length will vary depending on what is taking place at that stage of the story.

Any more advice anyone can add would be greatly appreciated.