Wordsmithing: DRAWN SIX SENTENCES FOR SUNDAY words emotions next writing

Sunday, 15 January 2012

SIX SENTENCES - DRAWN: INSIDE HALE'S HEAD

HALE HAS A POINT OF VIEW? NO. IMAGINE THE RE-WRITE.

Six sentences, from the paranormal side.

I've been writing DRAWN from Darrah's POV. At the earliest stage, I decided this was her story and I was going to write it purely from her perspective. Then this morning, as I woke, I saw what happened during the minutes Hale found her unconscious with hypothermia and had to work to revive her.

DRAWN

Darrah has been charged with finding and rescuing the Regal's heir. The evidence suggests he was taken by a band of Sarkisians who feed directly from the living. Darrah fights her cultural prejudice and instinctive fears when The Sarkisian Council send Fauld Hale to work alongside her to rescue the boy and maintain the fragile peace between their peoples.

This is my life or death SUNDAY 6:

Even with his acute hearing finding her hadn't been easy, her weak heart barely whimpered in the gale. Ice crystals glittered, her skin more grey than blue. Too late. Hale pulled the glove from stiff fingers and uncurled her hand around his cheek. He tried to force a dele with her. His strength seeped outward but, this way, the process was too slow.

I love language, sometimes the perfect word already exists and all I need to do is to hit translate. This time, I owe the perfect word to Norwegian.

to share - a dele

Correct pronounciation? No idea. I'm going with deal.
A deal comes with multi-layered expectations: to share, distribute, administer but with the expectation that there has been a negotiation and sense of compromise. Forcing a deal must come with consequences.
When it comes to commenting, I'm always happy to read one that help me improve my work.

GENRE, LITERARY OR MAINSTREAM FICTION ,AFTER YOUR CURRENT WIP, WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING TO WRITE NEXT?

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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Sunday, 15 January 2012

SIX SENTENCES - DRAWN: INSIDE HALE'S HEAD