Wordsmithing: LOOKING FOR SOMETHING IN KEEPING, NON-DERIVATIVE, AND CRIMINALLY GOOD!

Monday, 19 November 2012

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING IN KEEPING, NON-DERIVATIVE, AND CRIMINALLY GOOD! - What a shame that wasn't a question!

Do you remember, I mentioned that HarperCollins created an opportunity for writers to be published alongside one of their exciting new writers?

The competition prize was for three talented authors to write a short story which will be published in a special, limited edition epub of The Jerusalem Puzzle: the second novel from Laurence O'Bryan.

After reading the second chapter of The Jerusalem Puzzle, entrants had to write the opening of the next chapter in no more than 500 words.

*Squee!

I'm one of the authors who have been invited to submit a short story for consideration by HarperCollins’ editors.

Later, in December, the three overall winners will be selected to be published in the special edition Jerusalem Puzzle e-book next June.

NOW, I JUST HAVE TO THINK OF SOMETHING TO WRITE. SOMETHING, IN KEEPING, NON-DERIVATIVE, AND CRIMINALLY GOOD. Yikkes!

HOW HAS YOUR DAY BEEN?

NEVER GUESS WHO WON THIS COMPETITION? ;)

2 comments:

Suzanne Furness20 November 2012 at 07:49
Ooh congratulations! Hope you come up with a block buster for for the next round :)
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Unknown20 November 2012 at 12:07
Hi Suzanne
Thank you - now if I'd only read a few crime novels I'd be feeling something-near confident ;)
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RETURN: YA Paranormal Romance

I was running late. But, it was nothing I couldn’t make up with a bit of effort. I shook my head. Confident and happy? I smiled. Increasing my stride, I pushed until the muscles in my legs burned. I kept up the pace even when the hill grew steeper.

Magpie Lane was hardly wider than a ribbon that edged the woods but that didn’t stop traffic using it to get to the motorway quicker. Large trucks and fast cars loved Magpie Lane. They sent vibrations running through me rising from the soles of my trainers. I felt the disturbance in the ground, even before the air pressure tried to knock me off balance. I hunched my shoulders as the cab hauling a container spat stones up at me.

Jogging on the spot, at the entrance to woodland, I ached to leave the road and go inside. My Mum was probably still asleep but I could hear her you-never-know-what might-be-in-there lecture buzzing on repeat inside my head. I should run safe. Not even I would argue that running through the woods on my own was the best definition of safe but I wanted to run-wild and the woodland offered me that. This early, I should be safe from axe murderers or perverts in the trees and besides, I was fast.

I jogged down the slope into the trees. From two paces in, I felt different. Freer. It felt so right. Running in the woods did great things for my style. Avoiding the roots and dodging branches forced my stride longer, I had to step higher. The woodland, The Weald, was only a sliver of ancient woodland that the developers forgot to build on but it felt like it could have been anywhere. Everywhere. At any time. The oaks and beech trees dominated the space and the skinny, silver-birches squeezed up beside them. I laughed. For a second, the woods reminded me of school and I needed to run a lot faster.

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Monday, 19 November 2012

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING IN KEEPING, NON-DERIVATIVE, AND CRIMINALLY GOOD! - What a shame that wasn't a question!

2 comments: