Month: <span>July 2013</span>

A New Day

A year and a half ago I entered a competition called The Shattered Sky. It was run by an artist and it was to “write 1-2 pages of text that is based on the piece of artwork in progress”.  This is the image we were all shown to write our text about:

shatteredSkyUnfinished

The prizes were too good for me to pass up entering, so I wrote a short story titled A New Day, and I won! 🙂  The piece of art wasn’t updated or finished until sometime after the competition. Below is my winning entry, A New Day, and the finished artwork.
 

A New Day.

A cool breeze rolled over the mountain side, playing with strands of my hair and pulling them across my face. It had been a long night. Sitting up, I brushed the tendrils behind one ear and looked out through the darkness. Waiting.

My skin was goose bumped and I pulled my knees to my chest in a failed attempt to keep warm. The chill of the night air clung desperately to my skin, hungry for what little heat my body had left.

Taking a deep breath I could smell the frost in the air and absentmindedly rubbed my arms. Not long now, I told myself.

As a faint glow started to tease at the edge of the horizon I stopped, transfixed by what was about to happen. This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. Leaning forwards, captivated by what was to come, I let myself be drawn in.

The first light broke free, like a crack through the sky. I fell to my hands and knees, never taking my eyes off the horizon, and carefully crawled towards the glow. I could feel the anticipation building and let out a slow, shaky breath.

Shadows elongated and distorted as light began to spread across the land. I realised that I was holding my breath and let it out in a rush, watching as the sun’s rays chased away the darkness that had ruled only moments before.

It was beautiful.

I smiled as the light touched my face and closed my eyes for a moment, the new day warming my skin with gentle caresses.

Leaning back on my hands I looked out over the mountain tops, seeing the sunlight take over the sky, shattering the darkness. It was miraculous, this moment. My moment. I watched as colours spread out from the horizon – gold, orange, lilac – turning airplane trails into strands of gold, stitching together the morning sky.

Pushing to my feet I took a step forwards and reached out. The sunlight danced over my skin, filling me with warmth that made me remember I was alive.

Alive. What a strange feeling it was.

Giddy with happiness I spun around. Laughter built up inside me and I let the sound bubble up and out, echoing around the mountains. They sounded as happy as I was.

As I stopped I saw the sun was almost whole. Out from the horizon, free from the darkness.

Standing on tip toes I stretched my arms up, reaching for the sky. I never wanted this moment to end.

The wind caught my hair again, playfully whipping and twirling it behind me, bringing with it the scent of a new day. Lowering my arms I closed my eyes once more and lifted my face to the sky, welcoming the morning light and the freedom it brought.

Because that’s what I was now. Free.

 

shatteredSkyFinished
Artwork by Angel Illustrations


What’s In A Name?

I think names are one of the most important choices that a writer can make.  It’s the first thing that tells us something about the character, and the first opportunity for a writer to influence the reader before getting down to the rest of the character development – you wouldn’t imagine the same situation or personality for a Chantelle as you would for a Maud, for example.  For my main characters, especially in short stories, I usually try to pick a name that gives a clue about the overall plot and not just that character.  Sort of like an easter egg in my stories for the readers to find 🙂

The protagonist in Pink Mist is giving me a lot of problems, name wise.  Nothing I think of really fits her.  So it got me thinking, have there been any books where we never knew the name of the protagonist?  After a bit of a google I discovered that yes, there are quite a few!  So now I’m wondering if I can write the whole book – and series – without ever giving her a name.  As an assassin I think she could very easily operate without anyone knowing her real name, but would it matter to the story as a whole if she was that anonymous?  Would it matter to you, as readers, if you read a book where you had no idea of the protagonist’s name?

One of the most famous books that has a certain anonymity to it is Moby Dick.  Now I must admit, this is a book that I haven’t read but I do know the story and in particular, the opening sentence.  It’s this line, just three words, that gives the anonymity to the character: Call me Ishmael.  In these three words so much is given away.  He didn’t say “my name is…”, but instead chose to be vague telling the reader they are to call him Ishmael, which many could take to mean that’s his name. But he never actually says that it is.  From this we know right out that we should question everything else that he tells us, as he has manipulated the tale from the very first words.

So, in that instance the name itself didn’t alter the character or the reader’s view of his story, but the way the name was introduced.  If we don’t ever introduce a name for a character, how then would that change a reader’s view of them and what they say or do? Perhaps that’s just the thing to add more aloofness to a sassy assassin 🙂

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