|When I went looking for a picture of Lucas |
someone rather famous turned up.
The young Harry Windsor makes a great Lucas.
Sunday is, usually, the day I read.
On Friday, I started Ken Follett's The Pillars of The Earth. I've read up to page 165. Ken's novel weighs like a brick in my bag when I carry it around hoping to find a minute or two to disappear into medieval England. I'm also on page 50 of Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin. I couldn't resist buying it when I passed a shop with a WDN display.
I should be at the Garston Ladies FC U12's Cup Final, but I'm going out for dinner later and I neeeeeed to write.
I was up until silly hours plotting the next chapter for STARRING. I have, again, resorted to writing in pencil (pencil is my comfort mode of writing) in my notepad.
I usually start each chapter by:
- visualising the whole thing
- handwriting the opening few lines
- adding details to my rough outline
- then typing as fast as I can when the house is quiet
These are my seven sentences for Sunday. They are taken from STARRING - MG magical realism novel:
Absorbed by the slices of rainbow his glass freed when it split the light from the window, he shifted the glass from left to right over the tray. A breath of cold blew up Lucas' back to his neck. He turned, past the empty chair, to where the room looked darker behind him. He stared at the pairs who were testing their abilities and trying to impress: hands were moving, lips were mouthing the phrases silently. At the back, several rows behind him, Rolf Foxworth ignored the work his partner was doing. Hair caught in one of the rays that lanced across the room, his red head was not bowed over the work on the desk and he wasn’t reading the information from the board: he was staring to where Lucas stood.
“Great,” muttered Lucas and he threw the glass down with enough force to send slivers flying beyond the container and onto the desk beside him.
I would love to read a few sentences from your wip.
What are you reading at the moment?