Thursday, March 15, 2012

Lucky 7 meme

Hi there! Nick Wilford tagged me in the Lucky 7 meme, another fun blogging game that lets you showcase your work and talk a little bit about yourself. The rules for the Lucky 7 meme are as follows:

  1. Go to page 77 of your current MS
  2. Go to line 7
  3. Copy down the next 7 lines-sentences or paragraphs--and post them as they're written. No cheating
  4. Tag 7 authors
  5. Let them know

Ok, so here goes. This is from page 77 of my WIP. (Character names are provisional, as I'm aware the majority of readers might find the ones I am currently using difficult to pronounce.)

A pair of horses saddled with the livery of the royal family stood directly below her, surrounded by a group of horsemen she recognised as members of the royal family’s personal guard. Their presence was unusual, given that protocol did not require it – a hunt in the forests beneath the plateau would not be regarded as hazardous enough to warrant the official protection of the king’s trusted guards. They were most likely there out of habit or a sense of duty she decided, but part of her wondered if there were dangers in the king’s forests that had not been mentioned in the marriage negotiations. She frowned, knowing full well that her uncle would have told her of any such threats without hesitation.
           As her eyes skimmed over the crowd, Flannbhui’s gaze fell on Fiachna and Aodh. They were walking side by side towards their horses, and were surrounded by a close knot of squires and guardsmen. Again she frowned, noting how the servants scanned the crowd constantly.

What is the title of your current WIP. Tell us about it? 

I'm still working on a title at the moment. (I'm not good at names and titles obviously!) The provisional title is The Betrayed, but I'll probably be changing that in the future. 

This book is the first in a trilogy. The story itself begins with a princess, Flannbhui, who comes to marry a wealthy prince, Aodh. However her relationship with the prince's cousin, Fiachna, changes the lives of these two men dramatically. 

The decisions that Fiachna and Aodh make throughout the rest of the story are an exploration of the nature of good and evil, sin and forgiveness. Is it possible for an 'evil' act to be redeemed? At what point does an originally good person truly become evil? 

There's a lot more to the story as well, including one other major character, but it would take too long to explain it all here.

When did you start blogging and why? 

I started blogging late last year. I felt that it would be a good way to get in touch with other writers and to publish some of my work. I also use my blog to talk about writing and related topics. 

If you could do anything tomorrow, what would you do? 

Probably work. I'm finishing a PhD at the moment, so that's taking a lot of my time. I fit writing and music in when I can, along with sports training. 

Describe your happy place. 

I don't think I have one...that's probably weird, right?

What was your first happy memory? 

Bringing my mother breakfast in bed when I was about three. I remember I put too much milk on the cornflakes and spilled them on the tray coming up the stairs.

What was the scariest thing you've ever done?
There are some martial arts throws that scare me. I've knocked bones out from falling incorrectly, so having to come back and do them again always worries me a bit.

What is the funniest thing you did today?

It's early! Em...I thought I could get a holiday to Cambodia for 300 euro, until I realised flights weren't included. They cost about 2 grand. That was kind of funny, in a crushingly disappointing way. :)

What is the strangest place you've ever got an idea for a story?

During a meeting with my supervisor. He was writing something on the board and I was taking notes, and I started thinking about my WIP. I had a Eureka moment, and at the same time he turned around and said something like, 'And this fits perfectly here'.

For a minute I wondered how he knew about my story, until I realised he was talking about the work. Hopefully my expression didn't give me away.

Where do you write?

On my laptop. The locations change.

If you just won a ticket to anywhere in the world and you had to take me, where would you take me and why?


Thanks to Nick for the tag! I'm going to tag the following seven bloggers:

                                           Elise Fallson
                                           Cherie Reich
                                           Diane Gillette
                                           Michael Haynes
                                           Nick Hight
                                           Michael Offutt

Head over to their blogs for more sneak previews of page 77!

Friday, March 9, 2012

Interval - Second Campaigner Challenge

Hi! It's been a while since my last post but I've been crazy busy. This is a last minute entry to Rachael Harrie's Second Campaigner Challenge. My previous campaign entry was shortlisted so I thought I'd give this one a go.

My preferred genre is fantasy, so this piece is a bit different from my usual work. The link to the challenge itself is here, including all the rules, etc. I wrote a 200 word flash fiction piece, using four of the five prompts. The prompts are as follows:

Prompt 1: 

Two people are sitting together under the remains of a concrete bridge. Their backs are against a rusted bridge support. One person’s leg is cut. The other person has wet hair. 

Prompt 2: 

Prompt 3

Prompt 4

Prompt 5



He was watching a drop of water form under the concrete bridge. It had been gathering for some time, growing almost imperceptibly. Soon it would fall, but for now it hung, motionless.

Across the river, some children were playing on the shore. Another child bounced a ball dully along the surface of the bridge overhead. They seemed removed, distant, outside of his bubble of stillness. An old man was walking further up the beach. He was shuffling slowly along, but edging incessantly closer.

The drop under the bridge support grew larger, swelling with the passage of time. The cut on his leg throbbed steadily with his pulse.

The figure beside him was still. His hair was still wet from the river, even though his lips had already started to turn a cold shade of blue. There were red marks on his throat, standing out starkly against his pale skin. The man resisted a sudden compulsion to fit his own hands to the marks, knowing they would match exactly.

The crunch of uncertain footsteps grew louder. They echoed strangely under the bridge, sounding muted and hollow. He turned towards the noise, and met wide and frightened eyes.

The drop fell.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to comment! If you'd like to vote for this story please click here, I'm #105.