Thanks to some helpful pointers into a more positive direction, it is time to start sharing a little of a novel in progress. I know I am still finishing the (f)ilosophy, but it is okay, because I now recognise how the (f)ilosophy has influenced this opening introduction to a Young Adult Fantasy Fiction:
Down in the Valley of Piplinham the sun rarely shined. The farm animals looked tired. The fields were vast yet lacking, there were no glorious golds and vibrant greens, only churned over soils. Nothing appeared to represent happiness, at all.
Sarah arrived in a taxi. She stared at her surroundings through the window, daring herself to step out of the car. She was hesitating with a tension in her tummy. She hoped the surroundings didn’t reflect the needs of her new client.
“Will you be back in two hours, Katalina?” Sarah asked the taxi-driver with a distinct note of nerves in her tone, her gentle voice wobbled.
“Of course, I will be back. I only plan to pop into the Village for a coffee. I’ve no jobs in between this and your collection time.” Katalina smiled, then nodded toward the Farm House, “It looks pretty bleak doesn’t it? Do you need a chaperone?”
The radio on the dashboard suddenly sprang to life. The airwaves crackled “Katalina, I have a job for you, is Sarah dropped yet?”
The taxi driver sighed, she stroked her mahogany hair, twirling it to fall over her right shoulder. “There goes my coffee, and your chaperone, I spoke too soon!” Her lips tightened, then straightened beaming into a grin. “Go on then.”
“I’m nervous. I haven’t been doing this long enough to practice in someone’s house. What if they. . . never mind. Safeguarding, risk assessing I have it covered. I can do this.”
Sarah climbed out of the cab, weakly closing the door. Two hours she thought, it was only two hours.
To be continued. . .
Next week, I am headed back to poetry to generate a little more inspiration.
Sadly, the Publishers for the translated transcripts didn’t get back to me, so I have had to let them go. However, I did have a new experience over Easter 2018 that reminded me why I chose to write for myself for the last three years, as one door closes a new door opens.