Hey, so I’ve realised that writing a book is hard. It’s really quite hard. Now I’m not exactly talking about scrawling a few lines down that you happened to think sound nice. Or even writing half a book before getting side-tracked or bored. I’m talking about writing a whole entire novel, reading, re-reading, revising, re-revising again and again, increasing word count and polishing it until it is the best book it can be.
I think, that if you really want it, and you’ve spent the man hours on it, you can be so surprised by the results. Though, I have to admit, I’ve been surprised in two completely different sorts of ways. I’ve been surprised that my writing is so awful, my grammar appalling and my plot-lines so holey….at first. And then I have been surprised by how much it can change.
Last week, I have to admit, I was a writing hermit and the best part is, I have a story I wrote at the beginning of the year and I have to go back and double it’s length and begin the revisions and…..I also have an idea for another….HA! It’s a joke. Those of you who write, or even have some sort of passion or hobby you will know how it feels to have just done something with it and already be looking to the next!
Anyway, what I like to do when I’ve been working hard on an MS or finishing a serious book, is write something just for funsies. So, if you will reserve your judgement for something which I actually want to get published, I thought I’d post in sections one of these stories just incase you fancy a random read.
[Warning: This is a Fantasy-like story]
Title: Do I Look Like I Give A Crap?
A Little Background…
I clenched my hand into a fist, this was the last laugh he was gonna have at my expense. I threw my weight into that punch and my fist caught his chin so perfectly, like a chisel on a stone.
He fell back slightly, letting go of his harsh grip on my arm. You would have thought he wouldn’t hit a girl, but let’s be honest, you’re a fool, and you thought wrong. His rough knuckles hit my face, catching my nose. I coughed and spluttered over the blood that ran from it. I came back to crouch in a predatory stance.
By this time the whole of the gang had stopped to watch the girl take on the big boss. I didn’t care if I died, I was gonna take him with me, or at least a little of his pride. I wasn’t stupid, and I was completely aware that I was a weak little girl and he was a heavily built man.
His boot came up and hit me in the ribs. I heard a snap and man did I feel it. That son of a…he’d broken one of my ribs. I clasped my side and looked around the circle of men, for anything to hit him with.
Danny stood his mouth open and his face rigid. Yeah, well if he was so worried he should get in here and save me. Then I saw it, my salvation in the shape of a crow bar. Bring it on boss-man, your ass is mine. I threw myself at the object, hitting the floor and sliding towards it, arms outstretched. My rib hurt so much, I couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. But, forcing myself, I got up and staggered round. I wouldn’t let him get the advantage of me.
The crowbar was clutched in one of my small hands. Let him come near me now. I’d smack that smile off his face, even if I had to break his jaw to do it. When he backed away and tried to bargain with me I felt the power rush through me. The coarse fire rip through my finger tips. That’s right, cower, noone’s gonna mess with me again.
“Boss, she’s snapped. You can’t reason with her, for crap’s sake!”
Boss-man ground his teeth, would he risk a broken jaw for his pride? Nah, I didn’t think so. He backed away and I swung round, protecting my back from his cronies. Not one of them would touch me. I was outta here.
They parted like some royal ceremony and it didn’t take another bidding. I pegged it to the exit. No one would get in my way again, no one.
p.s. This is my favourite writing song at the moment: