Showing posts with label RFW. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RFW. Show all posts

Saturday, 20 July 2013

#RomanticFridayWriters Honeymoon challenge - set in the post-war Greek Islands

My RomanticFridayWriters story this month is set on a ferry crossing the Aegean Sea in post-second world war Greece. If you were expecting a hot and steamy honeymoon story, I'm sorry to disappoint. I'm sure there will be one of two, so click on the names and read some more entries during the next three days.

Eirini’s Journey Across the Aegean Sea




The war was over. The occupied forces had fled her island.

Eirini was fleeing too.

Sunrise sparkled the still water with silver and gold. She squinted, desperate for a last look at her home. Syros was a vanishing bony apparition--shadowy mountains, dark earth, white stone--an island of shattered dreams.

The early morning sun blurred the scene, but she recognised faint lines, tiny roads winding up slopes like wobbly mirages, jagged roads that led to her cave. She watched until she saw nothing but tears.

She huddled in a corner of the boat, scrunched between filthy tyres and rattly drums. The sun was now a relentless heat haze of Greek summer, beating her head, her arms, turning the black water gold.

Aunt Acacia had accompanied her to the ferry just before dawn, screaming endless instructions before placing a linen-wrapped object in Eirini’s hand. But Eirini was to travel alone, criss-crossing the Aegean Sea to Thira...and her fate.

The air was as hot as Hephaestus’ breath as she sat, surrounded by a sea, still as olive oil. Shadows in the water slithered past the boat, playful as dolphins. She stood, leaned over the side, reached out her free hand.

An angry shout from the upper deck. “Idiōtēs! Get back!”

Eirini dropped on to an upturned drum, smudging her white pleated skirt. “Eiie, Syros,” she wailed. “You are ruined. The long years of war have broken you.”

The Golden Age of Syros had shot into oblivion, smashed by bombs, killed by artillery fire.

Even the soil was dead. It could not feed her people during the war. There was food for the Germans and Italians, but not for Eirini’s people. Her people starved by the thousands.

A tear trickled down her face as she remembered how things used to be before the war. Stone mansions straddled the waterfront, stood proud in the sea like Venetian palazzos. But now Syros’ mansions were fallen on their knees in the water like partisan fighters begging for life.

Her parents bartered their mansion for food – six gold coins bought some onions and potatoes. When there was nothing left to sell, they scavenged wild herbs, boiling them over burning sticks in their cave.
***
For Eirini the terror continued. Her husband’s figure loomed large--the boy her father had chosen for her. Her father was dead, but the boy arrived to claim her when the war ended. She’d danced with him. She’d laughed with him. A few broken plates, then he was gone.

Now Alexandros Christofis waited for her in Thira.

Friday, 21 June 2013

Romantic Friday Writers - June Wedding Challenge - The Wedding at Cana

Hi friends!

Time for RomanticFridayWriter's postings for the theme - June Wedding. Surprise, surprise.  I decided to go with the non-fiction option this month, but I've also been working on reducing the word count on the wedding excerpt from my novel, Fijian Princess.

Who's travelled to Venice? If you have, you'll probably agree with me it's one of the most gob-smackingly-beautiful cities in the world, certainly one of the most unique, floating as it is on water. The High Renaissance architecture is so amazing it hurts your eyes. And what's inside these gorgeous buildings blows your mind. How about the art? The museums? Just unbelievable.

San Georgio Maggiore in Venice at dusk   

www.dfkwelsh.com 
Now the June Wedding challenge for RFW got me thinking about one of the most famous wedding feasts of all time - The Wedding at Cana.

The Wedding at Cana
Photo by me using the panorama option on my Samsung Note 11.

The large Benedictine monastery of San Georgio Maggiore in Venice was once the home to the gigantic teler (canvas), The Wedding at Cana, with an area of 70 sqm which occupied the entire top half of the back wall to illustrate the biblical scene eminently suited to the dining hall of a the Black Monks. (It can now be viewed at the Louvre, Paris.)

The painter Paolo Caliari (known as Veronese) was one of the leading lights of Venetian mannerism in 1562. He was contracted by the monks on June 6, 1562. Veronese was asked to people the painting with as many as he could fit into it. He managed 130. The artist was paid 324 ducats (approx. US$289,000 today), but he would also receive a wine cask and all meals during the time of the contract. He was only a few days past the deadline.

Here is how the painting has been described:

"The intoxicating genius of Venice is palpable in this superb masterpiece, with its urbane light-heartedness, its colourful array of costumes, its delight in opulence, its theatrical flavour and decorative flair, its embrace of light, and its sheer vivacity. There is no other painting as purely Venetian as The Wedding at Cana." Theophile Gautier, 1882.

The theme of the painting is taken from the New Testament, the Gospel of St John. This is the story..:

"And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there: and both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage. And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine.

Jesus saith unto her, Woman...Mine hour is not yet come.

His mother saith unto the servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it.

And there were set there six waterpots of stone, after the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three firkins apiece. Jesus saith unto them, Draw out now, and bear unto the governor of the feast. And they bare it.

When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made into wine, and knew not whence it was: (but the servants which drew the water knew) the governor of the feast called the bridegroom. And saith unto him, Every man at the beginning doeth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that whichis worse; but thou has kept the good wine until now.

This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee."

Well, I would have liked to have tasted that wine!



All good wishes to any brides and grooms out there who will be toasting a happy future together!

Go here to read more stories/poems/non-fiction based on the June Wedding theme...

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So, here's good ole boy Johnny Cash singing to the good ole boys in San Quentin prison (1969). Love it!





Wednesday, 22 May 2013

RomanticFridayWriters : LETTERS : A Letter From Flanders Fields, 1914.

RomanticFridayWriters is underway again, after an hiatus for the A - Z. We are an online writing community who write to specific prompts/guidelines on the third Friday of every month. Our work is open to critique as we aim to improve our writing in a supportive community. RFW is open to every writer. Feel free to submit your name to the linky each month. There are guidelines in the Challenges Page at the RFW site. Come on. We'd love to read your stories or poems. 

This month the theme is LETTERS. It is also to be multi-generic, incorporating letters in some way. I immediately thought of war letters.

Letters to a Lost Love
  
Have you heard from Jake, Anna?’ Her mother-in-law squizzed Anna through her lorgnette, tipping the handle imperiously. Even though Anna sat at the far end of the long  table, Florence’s face commanded her attention.

The wine glass tipped from Anna’s fingers. A violent splash of colour seeped like blood across the pristine linen cloth.

Anna dipped her finger into the spilled liquid and brought it to her lips, the acidity sharp on her tongue.

Jason spoke, his voice suggesting an intimacy that was purely imagined. ‘Anna. What is it, my dear? You’re as white as a ghost.’

Anna studied her brother-in-law across the table. Her cheeks grew warm as if the bitter wine had set a fire inside her. Her fingers played with the soft stuff of her embroidery which she always brought to table.

‘Anna? Are you all right?’ Jason pushed his chair aside, stood up and walked towards her.

She stumbled to her feet, dropped her thread basket in her haste to escape. The colourful spools fell to the carpet. She couldn't leave them there; she scooped them up and ran.

Jason’s voice chased her up the staircase. ‘Anna!’

Safely in her room, she wrenched the lock, stumbled into bed and wrapped herself in the quilt. She huddled in a ball, humiliated, miserable, overwrought. She imagined she could hear the conversation between Florence and Jason the minute she'd left the room. She’d heard it all before.

‘A nervy piece.’

‘Perilously unsocial.’

‘Can’t handle her wine.’

‘Wouldn’t you think she’d accept Jake wasn't coming home by now?’

‘He’s lost to her.’

‘She says she’ll wait forever, foolish girl.’

‘Never marry a soldier I always say.’

Jason would have the last word. He always did. Florence allowed him to dominate every conversation.

‘It’s a long time to be missing in action, don’t you think, Mother? Maybe he’s found a mademoiselle in one of those dingy, damp, grey little French villages. Maybe he’s decided not to come home. Grass is greener and all that...’

Anna crammed her hands over her ears to stop the voices. How many times had she been forced to listen to Jason and his mother discuss her situation like she wasn’t even in the room?

She lay motionless, watching the moonbeams on the lake reflect in her windowpane. She remembered the feeling of Jake in her arms, their bodies entwined in these same sheets, kissed by starlight. Oh, Jake, why did you go? I begged you not to go and leave me. Now Jason thinks he’s going to get what he’s wanted all along…me...your wife.

She reached for her Bible, a parting gift from Jake, (to record the names of our children, he’d said), and opened it to the page where she’d hidden it.

The letter was no longer crisp; it felt strange in her hands. She ran her thumb over the address:

Mrs Jake Penfield,
Bury, Chichester,
      West Sussex. England.

She reached for the precious picture of Jake she kept on her bedside table, the only one she had. She touched her lips to his cold ones, then lay the frame down gently. She picked up the document again and began to read...


DEAR MRS PENFIELD

IT IS MY PAINFUL DUTY TO INFORM YOU...MR JAKE PENFIELD...THE BATTLE OF YPRES... 

...DIED BRAVELY...DEFENDING HIS COUNTRY...


The sobs came at last…

***

Jason stood outside the door, listening to the harsh racking sounds.

‘Ah, my girl, he’s not coming back, is he?’ he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

‘Go away!’

‘I’m not going anywhere. I can wait, you know. I’ve waited a long time already.’

‘I’ll never marry you!’

‘I’m a patient man. I will have you.’

***

Anna finally slept. She dreamed. She woke screaming.

‘Anna! Let me in!’ The thumping on the door scared her more than the nightmare of Jake being gunned down, falling into the filthy trench, his feet eaten by rats the size of the hares in the forest where he once loved to hunt.

‘Go away, Jason.’

***

Anna reached for her journal, her most prized object which contained her innermost thoughts. 

Jake wasn’t coming back, but her love for him would go on. It would go on in her poetry.

She turned to the first entry, the one she’d penned the day that Jake said goodbye:

September 4th, 1914.

The story that I tell here
(As you’ll gather once you’ve read)
Is that when we weave with love,
We need no other thread.


With shaking hand, she picked up her pen:

December 1st, 1914.

Love’s the strongest thread of all,
It never really breaks
In parting it gets stronger
And greater love it makes.


There was no room for Jason in her life. Jake had always been her love, no matter how his twin had lied, cheated and fought in his efforts to steal her from her true love. Anna knew Jason’s motivation wasn’t really love—it was more that he couldn’t stand his older brother winning…again.

Oh why couldn’t it be Jason who went to fight the Battle of Ypres? Why did her darling Jake have to fall at the first battle? Which German soldier shot him? Or did he die from poisonous gases?

Answers to these questions fuelled her nightmares.

The journal was too painful. She’d write a few more lines, then lock it away forever, like her heart:

December 10th, 1914.

My story’s told, dear journal,
But what’s not yet been said
Is how many times both hope and faith
Have hung just by a thread.


Anna reached again for her Bible. She turned to the page where she would add the name of Jake’s child. 

She stroked her tummy then collapsed onto her bed.

 ©DeniseCovey2013
WORD COUNT: 948

Full Critique Acceptable

Sources: Original document: http://www.greatwar.nl/frames/default-feared.html
Journal: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi109q6bTti6RhO-lyecNKkr7-8srEuuXwgCy9n2ZLSjXg-AyzKcc7_4-Di9hwdj36J6CMkG7knY7zny-lYObArPtAP8XCmuoh1emPZ40OQo4o7iIGTeqSvRZOUlSJ2mHoehu0AjxMBaJE/s1600/DSCF5037.JPG&imgrefurl=http://creativecafegirl.blogspot.com/2012/07/vintage-junk-journals.html&h=1600&w=1470&sz=519&tbnid=aebp1pJHbGR_EM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=83&zoom=1&usg=__xMySogOKq3tr2EuE7OilgIOyp7g=&docid=VliT3mNTiWguvM&sa=X&ei=GoiIUZDqDePoiAeyoICABQ&ved=0CHkQ9QEwFg&dur=7911
Poem excerpts: The Red Thread, a love story. Author unknown.



I hope you enjoyed my story, LETTERS, for the multi-generic RomanticFridayWriters prompt for the month of May. Click here to read more stories.

If you're up for a little June romantic writing, the month of June will be devoted to romance and weddings at RFW. Each Friday there will be something happening - a book review by Donna, a guest post by romance writer Kate Walker (with a giveaway), and prizes for the best entries for June Wedding. The challenge will be to write flash fiction or poetry to 1,000 words, incorporating a wedding any way you like. This can be hearts and flowers, a 'til death do us part' dark tale, or twist up a fairytale wedding from one of your favourite fairy tales. Prompt will be published at RFW on June 7 with further details. Posting starts on June 21.


Wednesday, 1 May 2013

Insecure Writers Support Group : Why SOME Published Novels Fail to Sell (according to Donald Maas) : Romantic Friday Writers New Challenge :: LETTERS

Hello everyone! Finally, I'm posting again. The madness that is April is over for the A-Zers, and now it is back to the 'normal' business of blogging, for some of us, anyway.

I survived the house move in early April, but my writing time suffered, naturally. I'm back teaching. [Speaking of which, I've created another blog, Free English Resources where I post on many topics -- literature, grammar, punctuation, book reviews, analysis, current Australian curriculum streams... It's open to all. I don't have many followers--that's not the point--but I have heaps of page views, so I'm hopeful I'm putting something back into the educational community.] You're welcome to visit and use the resources if you're interested. I'm also back blogging and setting challenges for RomanticFridayWriters with Donna Hole, who's also been on blog hiatus too, writing up a storm.

Today, for IWSG, my post is about the topic - Why do some published books not sell?

I started thinking about this when reading an article by Donald Maas in the Writers Digest. He's a favourite how-to writer of mine.

We've all seen it in blogland -- at times rather vicious comments when an author's book fails to sell. The blame is often laid firmly at the feet of the book-industry, where some publisher failed to promote the author. Other things to blame -- terrible cover (I had a better idea, but they forced this one on me), horrible blurb (I didn't really write that badly, did I?), the timing was right off (how could they release my book called A Crocodile Ate My Lunch on the same day that a crocodile ate a tourist?)...come on, the list is LONG.

There are many vagaries in the publishing industry and unpublished authors try to learn all they can before that magical day when they sign a contract (or in the case of self-pubbed, they hit Publish on Amazon or wherever).

Some books are published on the evidence of several best sellers by the author. I've just abandoned A Casual Vacancy a little over halfway through. I like to read books with bad reviews just to get my own take on them, but I feel like I wasted several late nights which would have been better spent reading a 'good' book. (I don't usually say negative things about books, but Rowling's sales won't be impacted one whit by my opinion). J K Rowling didn't have to worry about whether her book would sell or not--her huge audience would buy it anyway, even though I couldn't find one likeable character out of the dozens of characters she bombarded the reader with in the first few chapters. I hated the foul language, I didn't care for the plot at all and could care less how it turned out (I hear a lot of the characters die, but do I care? Nuh.) I love books about village life by writers such as Rosamund Pilcher and Sybil Marshall, but this one I feel was written for its shock value. Of course, you may have read it and LOVED it, so ignore me.

My point is, there are lots of reasons a book sells or doesn't sell, but it is universally agreed (and Maas makes this point) that 'Great novels not only draw us in immediately but command our attention. They not only hold our interest but hold us rapt.'

Let's get to and write a novel like that. If we don't we have only ourselves to blame if it fails to sell.

I'll list some of the culprits Maas declares may be responsible for a published book failing to sell:
  1. Timid Voice - this DOES NOT command attention.
  2. Untested Characters - Make sure your characters show spine, take courage, have high principles or face their deepest fears.
  3. Overly Interior or Exterior Stories - Be the god of your story world. Interior stories need dramatic outward events. Dramatic outward events need to create a devastating interior impact.
I'll finish with another quote from Donald Maas: 'Runaway success comes from great fiction, period. The publishing industry may help or hinder but cannot stop a powerful story from being powerful.'

But really...there's no failure per se, there are only disappointing sales...


Click on the badge above for more posts for Insecure Writers courtesy of Alex J Cavanaugh.

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Now, if you want to flex your story writing muscles this May, RomanticFridayWriters has a challenge for you. 

LETTERS will be the central theme of our May challenge. You can use letters any way you like. 

'Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.' van Goethe.

Multi-generic writing is popular ATM, probably always has been. Multi-generic writing includes embedding other text types within your prose/poetry. Within prose you could add letter/s to/from lovers, letters could form the bulk of your story. You could add other text forms  -- dea th certificate, diary entries, appointment calendars, a found note..be as creative as you want!  Your entry will be a free-flowing story interspersed with whispers from the lives of the lovers. A poetic entry could be interspersed with the same type of texts -- let your imagination have free rein.

HERE ARE A FEW IDEAS:

*One of the lovers may have gone away - to work, to war, has left the relationship, wants time out...
* Someone has been left at home - fretting, upset, determined to save the relationship, determined to have revenge
* Perhaps one of the lovers wants a holiday by themselves, (not unusual these days), and the one left at home is furious, feels unloved, or relieved to have some time out too

These are scenarios that just pop into my head. Your entry may use all/none of these suggestions. It is your story, your way, your era...just let's go back to a romantic element in whatever form we write for this challenge.

You can sign up now, or you can wait until you've written your story. Entries to be posted on Friday 24 May - Sunday 26th May. 





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Monday, 25 June 2012

Reading, 'Riting and tRavelling in Fiji, lucky me!


‘I love to go a’wandering along the mountain track
And as I go, I love to sing, my knapsack on my back.’ 


…so the song (Happy Wanderer, Scout Songs) goes. And so do I. It’s time for me to go a'wandering again – this time to Fiji.

I haven’t been to Fiji before, have you?  My wanderings usually take me far, far away into the Northern Hemisphere. I've been saving the Pacific Islands and Asia for when I can no longer stand 20 hours on a plane! 

But for this trip I decided to explore closer to home, one reason being I wanted to meet someone who lives there – someone who invited me to check out the Fiji islands some time ago. This time the planets aligned, and I emailed that special someone who said – yes, yes, yes, come on over, but you’re not just staying a week (as I’d planned) you have to stay 6 weeks as we’re going away and we need a house sitter! 

This caused some consternation as you can imagine – man, who wants to stay in a tropical paradise in a beautiful home with 330-ish islands in close proximity for 6 whole weeks? What will we do to fill the days? Huh? Oh, that’s right, great idea! So my mid-year jaunt turns out to be a surprise to me at least – all of July and half of August in Nadi, Fiji.

And who would be this mysterious someone who set this mid-winter tropical tryst in motion, you ask? I know, you want in on the action too! You want to peek into my address book! Well, this mysterious someone you probably know, that most generous blogger in the bloggerverse, Nas Dean.  Not only does she tirelessly promote romance writers on her RomanceBookParadise blog and collaboratively review romance titles on her Romance Reader blog, she tirelessly gives of her home and her resources to introduce writers to her hometown, Nadi, Fiji.
So, dear jealous followers, I leave for Nas’ on June 29th (gulp, that's this coming Friday, friends, better get cracking!) and return to my sub-tropical Queensland paradise on August 19th. Fiji – ah, a pretty good ‘summer place’ to spend winter and winter is being a bit nasty here on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland ATM - bleak, Scotland-type winter days with oppressive clouds. 
   
Nas assures me her home is wi-fi’ed to the max so there should be no break in my blogging and hosting of RomanticFridayWriters schedule. If you'd like to write flash fiction/poetry for RFW check out the 2 upcoming challenges in my right sidebar or go here to the RFW site. My RFWer stories will take on a romantic paradise setting I’m sure. I imagine grass skirts (and that’s just on the men!), palm trees dipping into the pristine blue waters and glorious sunsets over the Pacific – except for grass-skirted men, much the same as home, but with an exotic flavor.

My plans always go awry, but at this stage I hope to catch up on my Kindle reading list, do lots of writing and lots of island hopping, not necessarily in that order! I'll miss my Writing Group. We're collaborating on a high fantasy novel, but have our own Facebook page so I should be able to continue to add my bits and pieces.

I hope you’ll enjoy my little photo essays during my time in the wonderful Fijian islands.

Thanks Nas, blogger extraordinaire!

Found this recent photo of Nas and her daughter on the
Romance Reader blog.



And I’ll fill my incoming suitcase with books for your libraries and schools and do my bit for the retail economy on the return journey.

Until I have my own fab photos to post, I'm using one from google images which is supposed to be copyright free, fingers crossed. 









  • So do you know Nas? Have you been to Fiji or any of the Pacific Islands?

Monday, 7 May 2012

#AtoZChallenge Reflection Post - plus other news...Another #AtoZ Challenge, Andy David, Glynis Smy


Hi my friends!

Monday, May 7, we have been asked to write a post reflecting on the A-Z Challenge.

I thoroughly enjoyed posting my BLOGGERS WERE CHILDREN TOO! posts during the challenge, getting to know my blogger friends better, and showcasing blogs to my readers/visitors. Overall, my commenters were generous in their praise for the theme and judging from the frequent returns I believe they meant it. So, thanks for visiting me during the challenge. I hope I returned all visits. During the madness of April it is too easy to miss someone.

My complaint is that I didn't get the time to visit as many new people as I'd hoped. As the links will be up for awhile, I hope to still visit more entries to the challenge. I didn't go out to get a heap of new followers, and I didn't. I visited/commented on far too many blogs. Some were good, some were nonsense just written to get something on the page and that happens, but some were blatantly self-promotional material.

But can we as writers really afford to tap out that many words in comments that really don't mean a lot? I'm jealous of my writing friends who took the month off to work on their WIPs or just to enjoy a blogging break. This might be the way to go next April, I'm thinking, unless someone can give me a good argument otherwise.

Now, life goes on after and even during, the challenge, so...moving on.

CHALLENGE NO 36 - FRIDAY MAY 18 - APPRECIATING THE ZEALOTRYNEWSFLASH NO 1: RomanticFridayWriters' next challenge (on May 18) is to re-post your favourite A-Z post in April. It's called APPRECIATING THE ZEALOTRY. Maybe a post you'd like more people to see, maybe a post that you think is great enough to expose to a larger audience, maybe a post you're especially proud of. The brainchild of Donna Hole, this is an easy challenge for those exhaused A-Zers, or those not participating in the challenge who wrote posts which had few comments due to the April challenge taking up most people's time. RFW will post a linky on their blog on Thursday May 17 so you can link your post. http://romanticfridaywriters.blogspot.com

NEWSFLASH NO 2: My dear poetic friend, Andy David, ex-Trinidad, now the US, is hosting a BLOG HOP the first Saturday of each month. All you have to do is link up your blog, OR a favourite blog OR a favourite post. The idea is like a continuation of the challenge, except you don't have to write anything specific, just post your link and during the month, visit some/all bloggers. If you want to extend your network, gain more followers, this is for you. Click on BLOG HOP above to sign up. 


NEWSFLASH NO 3: Last, but not least, today writer/poet, Glynis Smy adds author/novelist to her name. Her debut novel; Ripper, My Love, is launched in ebook format and paperback. The genre for this love story falls into the one of Historical Romance Suspense.



Growing up in late nineteenth century East London,
Kitty Harper’s life is filled with danger and death – from her mother, her
beloved 
neighbour and the working women
of the streets.

With her ever-watchful father and living surrogate
family though, Kitty feels protected from harm. In fact, she feels so safe that
while Whitechapel cowers under the cloud of a fearsome murderer, she strikes
out on her own, moving into new premises to accommodate her sewing business.

But danger is closer than she thinks. In truth, it
has burrowed itself right into her heart in the form of a handsome yet troubled
bachelor, threatening everything she holds dear. Will Kitty fall prey to lust –
and death – herself, or can she find the strength inside to fight for her
business, sanity and her future? And who is the man terrifying the streets of
East London?


Who is Glynis Smy?

Glynis was born and raised in England, in the coastal town of Dovercourt, near the port of Harwich (where the captain of the Mayflower lived). After qualifying as a nurse, she married her school friend, and they produced three children. During her rare quiet moments, she wrote poetry and articles for magazines. In 2005 she and her husband emigrated to Cyprus for a new life in the sun. It was here that Glynis lay down her cross stitch and started making writing friends on the Internet. With their support and encouragement she shared her poetry, and was successful in a few contests. She shared a short story with a friend, who wrote back telling her it was worthy of becoming a novel, and not to waste the premise upon a brief plot. The story is the one being launched today. Glynis found her love of writing 19th Century, historical romances and her second novel, Maggie's Child, will be published at the end of 2012.

Aside from writing and Cross stitch, Glynis enjoys creating greetings cards, and sells them to raise funds for a small hospice in Cyprus. One of her pleasures is to sit on the back porch with a glass of wine, and reflect upon her good life. She can often be heard chatting to new characters urging her forward.

Her desire to pay back those who had supported her is realised in a blog designed specifically to promote the books of others: New Book Bloggerhttp://newbookblogger.blogspot.com/. You can find her personal writing blog at http://www.glynissmy.com/. Glynis finds the community spirit of writers on Facebook a valuable one.

Want to purchase a copy?  Launch day price for the Kindle is 99c/77p!






I hope you enjoyed my post.

  • Did you participate in the A-Z Challenge?
  • If not, did you reach your writing goals you'd set for yourself, or any other goals for April?
  • What are your goals for May? 




Friday, 9 March 2012

#RomanticFridayWriters - Challenge No 33 - My Vignette - I Love You Because...

Hello there!

Does reading books inspire you? Of course it does. I've been reading Tony Davis' 'F. Scott, Ernest and Me,' a rollicking tale of an Aussie writer heading to Paris to write his Great Australian Novel, but ends up writing about Paris instead. Ah, that Grande Dame is a seductress...Anyhow, I thought, great idea for the current RomanticFridayWriter prompt - I Love You Because. I could just imagine a girlfriend languishing while the Great Unpublished Novelist heads off to the delights of Paris without a moment's consideration for her. Therein lies my little tale, vignette, whatever. I hope you enjoy it...


While His Guitar Gently Weeps


He lay in the hammock strumming his guitar, the notes weeping to the ground.
‘I love you, Ernest,’ Zora whispered from where she lay under the tree, watching his foot dancing in the air. 
Regret smote his heart, but he was determined to remain steadfast.
‘I must go, my darling Zora. I must write my novel, my magnum opus.’
‘Plenty of people write novels in Australia, my darling, at least one or two. Think Peter Carey and er, well, why can’t you stay?’
She caught his foot and kissed it, washing it with her tears.
Discordant notes crashed around her. She jerked upright, banging her head on his bottom. ‘Tim Winton! He’s the other one!’
‘You temptress. You would have me stay, but I must go forth to where the giants of twentieth-century literature have gone before me. I must find my true voice in the city where Ernest found his and F. Scott wrote between drinks.’
Happy notes plunked on the air.
‘Are you going to live in a garret and starve? Will you find inspiration in the towers, arches, domes and flying buttresses?’
‘I’m not approaching my novel from a standing start, my sweet Zora. I’ll have you know I had a poem published in a literary anthology once, and a major publisher showed interest when I pitched my YA vampire idea just five years ago. I framed the note from the editor.’
‘But Ernest, that’s hardly in the realm of Hemingway and Fitzgerald. They were prolific! You’re such a dreamer. I fear you will be greatly disappointed. And the money it will cost! Where’s that coming from?’
Da…da…da…deah,’ he sang. ‘I’ve sold the music shop.’
‘What! What about me? I’m the manager! Why?’
‘Because it was keeping me from my higher ambition. I awarded myself an arts grant. With my monumental literary idea, I’ll tackle the task of producing something that will outlive me, that will fly beyond the towers, the arches, the domes and flying buttresses.’ He tinkled the strings.
‘Ernest, all you have in common with Hemingway is his Christian name. I blame your parents for putting ideas of literary grandeur in your head at birth. I love you because you’re you!’
‘It’s going to be a tour de force, my pièce de résistance, a work of greatness. Just you wait and see…’
He lay in the hammock strumming the guitar, the notes laughing to the skies.


 ©DeniseCovey2012


WORD COUNT: 407
FCA - Full Critique Acceptable.

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