As I said before one of my favourite writing procrastinations is the Six Word Memoir website. It does what it says on the tin and asks you to write a memoir or story in six words. So I challenge you to do the same, right here, right now, and I will post it with next weeks Writespiration. While your at it, why not post on their website too?

Here’s mine:

Shell cracked. Finally, I’m a butterfly.

Now to last weeks writespiration.

Interestingly my mum participated this week, here’s her first ever entry:

There is no justice in love, a moment to gasp the sweet air as he brushes past making the hairs on my arms stand up, a small spark jumped across and tingled my soft flesh. Cupids arrow struck, however futile as the ring he wears on his hand proof his heart belongs to another.

***

Next up, my friend Donna who participated on Facebook and produced this heart breaking story

I’ve learnt that heaven is standing at the front of a church, with the smart dressed man you love bathed in the stained-glass window light. Although it would be better if I weren’t the maid of honour.

***

Akash produced this short and sweet romantic story

“I love you”.
“I know”.

***

Edwina next with a twist at the end to make you laugh out loud.

Rod held his breath as he concentrated on the task, trying not to inhale the pungent odour that was emanating right in front of his nose.
Finally, he stood up, wobbling slightly. looked at his pregnant wife, and smiling with satisfaction announced, ” I’ve made quite a good job of your toenails, darling.”

***

Sarah produced an adorable piece enough to make any women desperate for a hubby like this

“The house is a mess, the kids are driving me crazy, I haven’t even showered today…” she scrubbed at the dinner dishes.

“The house will get cleaned up and be a mess again, the kids drive me crazy, too, and I’m only here part of the day, and you…” he gazed at her, “you look absolutely beautiful, as always,” he kissed her cheek then grabbed the sponge and took over washing.

***

Next up my wonderful rough riding comrade Charli, who produces so much rich imagery in two tiny sentences it floors me.

Her apron prevented grease splatters from staining her calico dress of pink spring roses, but she hardly paid any attention to the sizzling bacon while she watched Hank make his way up the grub line, wearing those thick denims of deep indigo over his muscled thighs and that red and black buffalo plaid flannel.

Oh, how she desired to wear his clothes, his boots, his wool cap!

***

Ali has produced another heart wrenching piece, stunning in its emotive impact.

Their mothers had laboured side by side to bring them into the world, and as the years passed, their light childhood spats and laughter matured into something deeper, compulsive, unwholesome.

She blossomed, a bright butterfly dancing in gossamer sunlight, tugging him sullen and reclusive in her wake, unaware how his journey took a darker turn until his pain became impossible to ignore, when to her credit, she didn’t falter; steadily, she gripped his hand, and they jumped together.

***

Debbie my wonderful writing friend has participated for the first time and what a romantic story she’s written:

Slumped over in her chair, she rubbed her eyes in utter exhaustion; wondering if everything she had done for him was even worth it.
He crept up behind her, massaged her shoulders for a moment, tilted her head up so her eyes met his, and cupped his hands around her face, then kissed her tenderly.
Elation.

***

Dr. R this week has a wonderful story with a cliff hanger ending

It was time, the hour and minute hands both positioned where they should be to signify that the time had indeed come so then, they gazed into each other’s eyes, looking deep inside each other to the point where it felt like they were looking at one another’s souls with their heartbeats perfectly synchronised, beating as one; he held her hands, a single tear running down his face, to him, she was his weakness, his Achilles heal, his Kryptonite, she broke down the walls blocking his feelings & set them free, that tear he cried was the proudest tear he’d ever shed. At the same time, she clenched tightly as his hands and her hands were wrapped together as one, to her, he was her strength, her shining light in the darkness, her rock, he empowered her to stop her from feeling weak & with all her might, she firmly grasped his hands with a desire to truly bond in unison, a mutual irresistibility existed between them, a bond that at the right moment would become unbreakable and as they both turned to look at the clock, they knew that that time had come.

***

Hugh, tricked me this week, I expected the worst he gave me the best! Gorgeous story end.

“I’ve loved you for the last 60 years and not only can I prove it to you, but nothing or nobody can now stop us.” Paul got down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

Three months later they were at last married and nothing or nobody was able to stop them, not even the law. Paul and Michael lived happily after after.

***

The post Writespiration #65 Six Word Stories appeared first on Sacha Black.

Well, reading, watching TV and my interests are the same way. I wish more than anything reading wasn’t included in that and that I read a little, consistently, everyday but I don’t have time and thats why my TBR pile is over 200 high. So what do I do?

I binge.

I sit for hours and zone out, ogling whatever the latest TV series is and indulge in episode after episode until I am so saturated with the programme or book series that I actually have to readjust when I put it down! When I’ve talked about this kind of behaviour before, there’s seemed to be a bit of stigmatism around the act of binge indulgence. I get it. It’s not productive in terms of life admin and chores, and it does brew a bit of laziness, but you know what? When I thought about it I realised that actually, it’s a kind of helpful thing to do as a writer.

1. Bingespiration

There’s never been an occasion when I have fallen into a binging spree that I haven’t been inspired. When I binge, it’s usually because I have fallen in love with a series, or a book or a character. For example, I binge read a guilty pleasure – Charlaine Harris’s True Blood novels, I read the first one (Dead Until Dark: A True Blood Novel (Book 1)) in like, a day! And then I powered through the following 12 books over the next 8 weeks. I read four on our week long holiday! My wife didn’t see me for two months whilst I selfishly indulged in the books and fell into their world. I have just done the same with Once Upon A Time a TV show, I am now impatiently waiting week on week for Netflix to release the next episode.

What’s my point? My point is, going on a binge beats writers block. It allows you to forget your woes, your own obsessions with your book babies and allows you to slip into other fantasy worlds. It’s escapism. It’s what we write for, we want to do this to other people, so why not experience it for ourselves. And what better way to inspire you back into writing than to enjoy getting lost in your fave show/book/series.

2. Bingination

There’s nothing like a bingefest to get your imagination going. I have this thing… when I finish a series I have binged on, I feel, bereft. Literally. As I close the final page, I sort of wake up, open my eyes and all of a sudden I am back to reality. With the god awful realisation that I don’t in fact live in Bon Temps, Louisiana, nor am I a vampire, and I am neither Sookie Steakhouse nor her friend in real life. It hurts. Like bad. Because for a minute there, we were braiding each others hair, and biro-tatting BFF on each others arms.

Seriously. Is it just me? Or does anyone else get so sucked in on a binge that real life disappears? My point is, we can learn from this. From the fireworks it gives our imagination and the depths we can be sucked into. We writers need to deconstruct and analyse what happens to us as we fall into a binge, and then replicate, replicate, replicate.

If I think about the True Blood series, it was the world she created. I hadn’t read a vampire story in which the world at large new they existed. I thought it was unique, and it instantly drew me in. I also loved the love story that ran through it. Right up till she ruined it at the end of the last book!

3. Bingentration

Are my binge words just getting weird now? Well binges force one to concentrate, hard, and for long periods of time.

So no excuse for not concentrating next time you need to get a post out, or smashing 1667 words every day of NaNo November. If you can binge watch/read you can binge write.

4. Bingearching

This for me is the out right winner. If you can binge watch and concentrate then surely you can binge on research too? I talked about the importance of getting out and doing actual research recently in my post 5 Reasons Writers Should Be Secret Agents.

But now I’m transferring the skills I have for binge indulgences, into research. By submersing myself into book topics, times, locations and clothing etc so that I know everything there is to know on the topic. It ensures my books credibility whilst doing it quickly (given it’s a binge) resulting in an all round winner for effectiveness and efficiency.

And there’s nothing I like more than something that’s both effective AND efficient!

What do you think? Do you ever binge on anything? Do you find it useful or a distraction?

The post Confessions from a Serial Binger – 4 Reasons Writers Need to Binge appeared first on Sacha Black.

I am not great at descriptive writing, drawing images and creating flowery writing, so I decided to have a go on part of the latest bit of Adultland. It’s at 14K and 8 chapters in, although I suspect by the time this goes live, it will be 9 or 10 chapters in. Below is an excerpt from the end of chapter 8. I have tried to tweak it to fit Ali’s challenge of ‘purple prose’ she did say no dialogue….I cheated, but then I never was one to follow the rules!

Chapter 8 Excerpt

I ran to the window, desperate to see an obvious clue, a sign, anything to explain what Hawk meant when he said ‘look down at the edge of the city.’

I slumped against the glass and peered at the crippled world below. The city looked like a broken solider, exhausted and weary after war. My chest tightened like a vice, tears clawed at my throat. I couldn’t believe that a single year of neglect could create such a mass of crumbling houses. Plant life ravaged entire sections of the city. Green spread like bacteria until it consumed its host.

I glanced at the wall; a merciless guard, towering above us, watching, just like the Hunters did. Silent, certain, infinite.

I squinted. I could see over the wall. The morning sun was high enough that I could see for several miles. Two more spheres bordered distant cities. I frowned, unsure of what I was seeing. I pressed my face against the glass straining, they weren’t spheres, they were walls. Walls that trapped other cities. Other children.

“Oh my god,” I gasped and took a step back. I stumbled into the office desk, the corner of the table dug into my thigh. I stepped back, tripped over a shoe box. A hand caught me, enveloped my body and stopped me hitting the deck. The sweet scent of a woody perfume wrapped around me. I knew that smell. Another hand slipped over my mouth.

“Don’t scream,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. Fire ignited in my chest.

“Hawk.”

***

© Copyright 2015 Sacha Black

The post Adultland Excerpt appeared first on Sacha Black.

My favourite genre without exception is YA. I love, love, love it. I know I’m an adult, but can’t I just pretend I stopped ageing at 16? To be honest, I think it’s probably true anyway.

I adore the innocents of it, the newness of life and every adult experience they have is difficult and I really love the fight and drive the kids have. But more than anything, I adore the fact that they never give up hope, and generally speaking the hero  wins out. Guilty pleasure or what?!

Well, for fans of the YA genre, this will blow your mind. If you haven’t ever read a YA book then I guarantee you can find one on this list.

Epic Reads via Harper Collins have a mine field of infographics and book lists containing every awesome YA book… like…. EVER. It’s like every bibliophiles paradise. I died in a big mushy pile of excitement went straight to YA library heaven! Are you getting the message yet? This shit is awesome!

You cant read that right? No I know. Well if you go to Epic Reads page then you can download it there.

But wait, there is oh so much more…

• For the super YA geeks there is a timeline of YA fiction.
• There’s a periodic table of Epic Reads.
• A list of 162 Epic YA Retellings.
• The United States of YA – where you can literally read your YA self across America.
• 25 YA Books to read if you like Game of Thrones
• and finally a list of 30 YA books that will change your view of the world.

I mean basically this is candy to me and to be honest total hell too! How am I meant to find the time to read all these?

Do you like YA Fiction? If So, why and what’s on your ultimate YA list?

The post The Ultimate YA Reading List appeared first on Sacha Black.

There’s something wrong with my opening chapter. I’ve edited it eight times, two of those were major overhauls, the rest tweaks. But still… just plain wrong, and the closer I get to the end of draft one (and I am real close now) the more preoccupied I become with the first chapter. I figured the best way to work out what was wrong, was to study the masters. Examine the books in my particular genre that have made it, and see how they do it. And you know what… They have a formula. They all have a set of things in common. I’m not suggesting I need to follow their formula exactly, I still want to be unique, but I can at least learn from it.

I’m a victim of having read too many posts about ‘how to write,’ and ironically, I am now sharing the lessons I’ve learnt! But I just can’t help myself. I want to write well, so I try to absorb as much as I can from others. But here’s the thing. You can read advice, and a lot of advice that all says the same thing and yet, it’s still not right for your book, or your genre or for you.

And that’s exactly where I went wrong. This makes me slap the keys and grit my teeth in frustration…

I’ve read countless articles, blog posts and even excerpts in published books that all say some derivative of this:

Start with a hook, throw your reader straight into the action, most writers end up cutting chapter one and starting at chapter two where the real action is.

Well you know what? I should have started at chapter sodding two, but not because that’s where the action is. But because it’s where the action isn’t .

Let me explain…

The genre I write is YA/NA Fantasy/Dystopian genre, the genre infamous for The Hunger Games, Divergent and Uglies to name but a few. So, that’s exactly where I went to study first chapters.

When I opened the first book – I just started reading because I didn’t know what I was looking for. I had planned on taking just the first line or two for thorough examination. But I realised pretty quickly that I was actually looking for something specific, I just didn’t know what till I read the first couple of books.

There are five excerpts below, I have copied the text from the beginning of each one, right up to the point where I found what I was looking for.

And what was it? Let me show you with an example, I’ve bolded the bits I was looking for:

Hunger Games By Suzanne Collins

Chapter 1:

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim’s warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course she did. This is the day of the reaping.

***

There you go, what I was looking for was in the first paragraph. Let me give you another example:

Divergent By Veronica Roth

Chapter 1:

There is one mirror in my house. It is behind a sliding panel in the hallway upstairs. Our faction allows me to stand in front of it on the second day of every third month, the day mother cuts my hair.

I sit on the stool and my mother stands behind me with the scissors, trimming. The strands fall on the floor in a dull, blond ring. When she finishes, she pulls my hair away from my face and twists it into a knot. I note how calm she looks and how focused she is. She is well-practiced in the art of losing herself. I can’t say the same of myself.

I sneak a look at my reflection when she isn’t paying attention—not for the sake of vanity, but out of curiosity. A lot can happen to a person’s appearance in three months. In my reflection, I see a narrow face, wide, round eyes, and a long, thin nose—I still look like a little girl, though sometime in the last few months I turned sixteen. The other factions celebrate birthdays, but we don’t. It would be self-indulgent.

“There,” she says when she pins the knot in place. Her eyes catch mine in the mirror. It is too late to look away, but instead of scolding me, she smiles at our reflection.

I frown a little. Why doesn’t she reprimand me for staring at myself?

“So today is the day,” she says.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Are you nervous?”

I stare into my own eyes for a moment. Today is the day of the aptitude test that will show me which of the five factions I belong in.

***

Boom, Roth did it too. She mentioned the word faction in her first paragraph. What do Factions and Reapings have in common? They are the fundamental constructs of their books. They are what makes their books unique. It’s the foundation of their dysoptia’s. I read a little further with Divergent, and highlighted another sentence. Let me give you another few examples of what else I found:

Matched By Ally Condie

Chapter 1:

Now that I’ve found the way to fly, which direction should I go into the night? My wings aren’t white or feathered; they’re green, made of green silk, which shudders in the wind and bends when I move – first in a circle, then in a line, finally in a shape of my own invention. The black behind me doesn’t worry me; neither do the stars ahead.

I smile at myself, at the foolishness of my imagination. People cannot fly, though before the Society, there were myths about those who could. I saw a painting of them once. White wings, blue sky, gold circles above their heads, eyes turned up in surprise as though they couldn’t believe what the artist had painted them doing, couldn’t believe that their feet didn’t touch the ground.

Those stories weren’t true. I know that. But tonight, it’s easy to forget. The air train glides through the starry night so smoothly and my heart pounds so quickly that it feels as though I could soar into the sky at any moment.

“What are you smiling about?” Xander wonders as I smooth the folds of my green silk dress down neat.

“Everything,” I tell him, and it’s true. I’ve waited so long for this: for my Match Banquet.

 ***

Uglies By Scott Westerfeld

Chapter 1:

The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit. Of    course, Tally thought, you’d have to feed your cat onlysalmon-flavoured cat food for a while, to get the pink right. The scudding clouds did look a bit fishy,       rippled into scales by a high-altitude wind. As the    light faded, deep blue gaps of night peered through    like an upside-down ocean, bottomless and cold.

Any other summer, a sunset llike this would have been  beautiful. But nothing had been beautiful since Peris  turned pretty. Losing your best friend sucks, even if its only for three months and two days.

***

Both Hunger Games and Divergent do the same thing as Uglies and Matched. They all start on the day of, or almost on the day of a graduation or coming of age event:

Hunger Games – starts with the reaping

Divergent – with the aptitude test

Matched – with the Match Banquet

Uglies – the pretty operation

What else do these first chapters do, other than the obvious introduction of the main characters, they:

Introduce you to the key tennets of the dystopian world and build an image of it.

They do it in a way that feeds you little drips and drabs of information though character thought and setting description. I’ll use on final example:

The Testing By Joelle Charbonneau

Chapter 1:

I can hardly stand still as my mother straightens my    celebratory tunic and tucks a stand of light brown hair behind my ear. Finally she turns me and I look in the   reflector on our living area wall. Red. I’m wearing red.No more pink. I am an adult. Seeing evidence of that    tickles my stomach.

“Are you ready, Cia?” my mother asks. She, too, is      wearing red, although her dress is made of a gossamer   fabric that drapes to the floor in soft swirls. Next to her, my sleeveless dress and leather boots look childish, but that’s okay. I have time to grow into my adult status. I’m young for it at sixteen. The youngest by far in my class.

I take one last look in the reflector and hope that today is not the end of myeducation, but I have no control over that. Only a dream that my name will be called for The Testing.

***

celebratory tunic tells you it’s a significant event

reflector signals that it is not a world like ours, purposefully using the word reflector instead of mirror, a word similar enough for us to know what it means but different enough to signal the uniqueness of their world.

Red. I’m wearing red. No more pink. I am an adult. This does lots of things. It tells you age is denoted by colour – another indicator of dystopia. It tells you their world is likely controlled by a higher power who has decided colour is associated with age. It tells you the character is just becoming an adult. Charbonneau killed several birds with one stone, getting description of their attire, and describing a control mechanism in one fell swoop, as well as showing her age.

I have no control over that this confirms that there is a society or higher authority running their dystopian society, and that it controls and makes decisions about their lives

The Testing the construct that makes this world dystopian. The control mechanism and the coming of age plot device. The centre of this book.

***

So what did I learn? What top tips can we draw from these experts? We all know you have to introduce your main characters and that usual jazz, but I wanted to focus on the detail of the formula of these experts, so I haven’t covered the obivous. These guys clearly follow a formula – is it right for everyone? No, of course not. I’m just sharing what some people have written. This might not be right for you, and actually I hope it isn’t for everyone otherwise we will never have anything new on the market.

Let me know if you think I missed anything. And, let me know what lessons you have learnt from reading other writers first chapters.

1. Get the key dystopian construct into the book early. Really early. Whether it’s factions, testing or pretty surgery that makes the world dystopian, a reference or link has to go in somewhere in the first couple of pages.

2. None of these books start smack in the middle of the action. They all start just before the proverbial poop hits the fan. Think about how you can draw your reader in first, and then smash them with action in chapter two.

3. Create an image of the world through the characters thoughts and actions as well as through blatant setting description. You can kill two birds with one stone if you’re clever like Charbonneau who used a colour linked to a construct in their dystopian society. There are plenty of other ways you can do that if your world is detailed.

4. Details – ensure there is a balance of world description in chapter one to explain your world, but not so much it confuses the reader

5. If your protagonist is going to come of age – consider starting with it – especially if the ‘coming of age event’ is going to incite action for the rest of the book.

The post 5 Top Tips for Writing Chapter One – Lessons from the YA genre appeared first on Sacha Black.

I made a point recently about the lack of ‘actual’ writing I do. You know, with my hand and a real life pen. The post discussed Distributed Cognition, a concept that debates where the boundaries of thought are and one example is the use of a pen. Does the physicality of using a pen change your thought process through the action of writing? Where do your thoughts end, and the pen and ink begin, and what is the reciprocal effect of the thought, hand and pen interacting.

Why am I talking about this again? Well, in my author interviews, I ask a provocative question making a point that the publishing industry is in decline (I don’t actually think it is, but it tends to provoke an interesting answer). That question got me thinking, is penmanship in decline?

When I was a kid I used to have a pen pal, in fact, I had two. Didn’t everyone?

My mum still has her from childhood, a fact I love. When I went to school, I had a friend who liked reading and writing as much as I did. We used to hand write each other letters. I still have them. Dozens of them. I would painstakingly scribe words, colour and decorate pieces of paper in order to swap post with her, and more often than not we would stick a stamp on them (because back then you didn’t need a mortgage to buy a stamp) and pop them in a post box. I love nothing better than receiving post. I can’t remember the last time I received a letter.

I used to write a journal, I’ve said before I have a box of them in the loft, thousands hundreds of thousands of words scribed by hand, poured out in a labour of love for the written word. Then I started writing journals electronically. I don’t even know where they are now. Probably on a floppy disk somewhere *cringe* yes, I know what a floppy disk is. My wife’s students don’t. That’s depressing. We are only a decade older than them. But for them, the concept of ‘dial up’ is alien. They just don’t ‘get it’ and blank stares and sniggers follow her when she talks about floppy disks. I used an encyclopaedia – they use wikipedia.

That’s just ten years of development. TEN.

Is this evolution? Are we really developing? Or is this actually regression in disguise?

We apes evolved hands for a reason, to craft tools, feed ourselves, rear babies. I’m not interested in the argument that typing counts because you type with fingers. It doesn’t count. Not in my mind anyway. Theres no physicality. It’s mindless tapping learnt through rote memory.

The physicality of writing comes from having to push the pen around, forcing ink to curve to make shapes and markings. The mental process of deciding feeling where the next dot and cross has to go. I find it satisfying marking the page, leaving an imprint, knowing I created that design, story or letter. It’s gratifying.

Evolution is about progression, right? the ‘gradual development of something.’

Well penmanship is a skill and evolutionarily speaking, skills are things we had to learn too. If typing was just the next evolution, then why does its loss feel like such a sacrilege?

Is the loss of a skill not regression?

We are living in a technological black hole. Anthropologically speaking, in five hundred years how many people are going to be able to understand our culture? My guess is not many. The number of physical records is dropping, we are publishing books electronically rather than physically. Egyptians use to carve writings and explanations into granite, forever left as a guide to their culture. The internet records our culture. But, one day, the oil is going to run out and the electricity switch off. Then it’s all gone. Every record, every piece of information will disappear in a poof of smoke from the last drop burnt oil.

I’m troubled, I don’t know whether it’s my obsession with apocalyptic/dystopian fiction, or a worry founded in philosophical thought, but I am deeply concerned. Look at my wife’s students. Ten years is all it took for them to not understand a concept that to me (and I’m really not old),  is completely normal. I mean what about the words going into the dictionary that originate from text messages for goodness sake. In 2011 the Oxford English Dictionary added OMG, LOL and FYI into the dictionary. What does that mean?

I can’t shift this nagging thought that one day, kids won’t even be taught how to write any more. How long is it going to be? Thirty years? Fifty? Two hundred? It’s going to happen. The pen, and hand written scripture is becoming redundant, typing is faster and more efficient. You can erase your mistakes and no one will ever know. But aren’t mistakes part of what makes us fallible humans? Are we heading for a dystopian future where no one knows how to write?

Penmanship will become a lost art. 

There’s one more point I want to leave you with. My wife is dyslexic. She spells better on a computer. For her, the rote patterns of movement from tapping words is more kinesthetic and memorable than the closed hand structure of holding a pen. Her brain remembers how to spell patterns on a keyboard, but can’t remember the physicality of holding a pen to spell. Something I find truly fascinating. For her, although she believes the lost art of penmanship is regression, there is no doubting that for her, computers and typing are evolution. For me, a lover of pen and ink it’s regression.

What do you think?

The post The Lost Art of Penmanship – Evolution or Regression? appeared first on Sacha Black.

Life’s a funny old thing, so often we go through difficult times and have to make hard choices. Sometimes we lose friends, loved ones, gain new ones, have children. We travel and feel moved to change our entire lives. We give up careers and start again. I’ve seen my fair share of cross roads probably the most significant was being told if I waited to have kids, it might be too late.

My choice?

Turn left – be young free and have money, travel.

or

Turn right – fork out thousands for fertility treatment and suffer losses and emotional torment.

I turned right. It was the right decision, but when you’re faced with a cross roads the decision isn’t always obvious.

This week, the writespiration is all about Cross Roads. Maybe your character is physically at a cross road, maybe they have a choice to make. If you fancy joining in, jot a few words or a short story and I will publish it with next weeks post.

Here’s mine:

He was trembling.

“You’re pathetic,” I growled.

His incessant twitching was irritating. The tap, tap, tap, of the tightly wound knot rattled against the chair I’d tied him to. It was giving me a headache.

I put the cold barrel of the magnum against my temple hoping the cool metal would ease the ache and pulled another dining room chair out. I sat down in front of him. 

“You got a choice, Marty.”

Sweat dripped off his face and crawled across his shirt. I pointed the gun at his chest, rubbing the barrel into the sweat.

“Get a grip of your self…” I dug the gun into his chest a few times. Each time, he wince harder. 

“Baby… honey… You don’t have t..”

I slid my finger over the hammer and pulled it down till it clicked. 

“Did I say you could talk?”

He pulled his lips tight and shook his head.

“You had twenty years of marriage to talk, Marty. Now it’s my turn.”

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t… She didn’t… I won’t do it again, I swear.”

I raised my hand and fired the gun at the wall. The crack thundered across the dining room. The bullet ripped into the glass cabinet. Glass splintered and showered the dining room table I had laid night after night for twenty years. My favourite china set plummeted to the wooden floor  shattering and camouflaged itself in amongst the glass.

“Look what you made me do, Marty,” I said waving the gun at the remains of my dinner set, “that was my best fucking china.”

I stood up. My chest felt tight. Blood rang in my ears. I scanned the dining room with its matching curtains and furniture.

“You took the best years of my life, for what?” I peered at the collection of photo frames filled with nephews and nieces instead of my own children.

“A bunch of whores and prostitutes?”

I shook my head and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I was going to give you a choice. But you know what I realised, Marty?”

His lips flopped open.

“Don’t fucking answer that… I’ll tell you what I realised. You don’t deserve a choice. This is my cross roads.”

I leant into his face, my nose millimetres from his.

“You stink like shit, Marty,” I said wrinkling my nose and trying not to breathe in his sweat.

“I want a divorce… and this…” I said pushing the muzzle of the gun deep into his crotch. He flinched, lip quivering. A wet patch spread across his trousers. I pushed my finger onto his lip, “shh,” the corners of my mouth curled into a toothy grin and I cocked the hammer.

“This is for the for the two decades of tears I shed each and every time you fucked another woman. This is so no one else will ever have to cry for you again.”

I fired.

***

So to last week. I loved last weeks writespiration, so I will endeavour to post it again albeit it with a different word, I think it produced some fascinating entries with wonderful insights into all your minds!

First in with a response to last weeks Writespiration was:

Rachel with this fab entry

There was an eerie silence lingering in the air. Everyone eyeballed each other wondering who was going to be the next to stand up and say something. They were all thinking. No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news and played “nose-goes” inside their heads willing someone else to say something.

***

Next Helen with a super eerie entry

Silence. It was all around him. Weighing heavy on his ears, on his time. Time that he scratched out, one by one on the damp bricks, the only indication that it passed the slivers of light through the barred window high above. No one came to see him. No one cared, it seemed, that he still lived.

***

The wonderful Michelle joins us this week and gave an emotional entry

Silence. A beautiful voice, his laughter are forever gone. Lost in silence are the sweet words. “hey, Mum, love you.” The silence is unfathomable. The silence tears at the heart.

***

Geoff gives his best TanGental entry this week :p

Silence is a long way from home, which is a hollow noduled bucket in Minneapolis and rather twee in a woebegone sort of way. Carriage bags have a habit of breaking silcne wit a rustle and a grimace. Shoping with silence is a chore and

***

Hugh follows Geoff with some equally tangential thinking – I just love where these are taking

If silence is golden then why am I not rich and living in outer space where it is silent. I love being silent like in the silent films which I don’t understand because they have no talking in them and are often in black and white and all fuzzy to watch. I wonder if they served popcorn in those days?

***

Jane gives this beautiful entry

Silence. The word sounds so loud when I think about it. Like when you put your head underwater. The sound of water. And the night air when everything else is quiet. Except the silence.

***

Sarah‘s written a cracking entry

Silence. Beeping, hacking, coughing, talking, yelling, beeping. Fleeting moments. Time is gone. Walls close in. Hoping. Waiting. For silence.

***

Foy joined in this week with a wonderful dialogue entry

“Would you shut up already?! I told you we’re not going to the zoo to harass the lions today.
That’s next week.”

***

The post Writespiration #44 appeared first on Sacha Black.

You’ve written ‘THE END’ on your first, second, eighth – or if you’re me it will mostly likely be my third draft. You know it’s not perfect, but you’re happy you have taken your manuscript as far as you can. What next?

Alpha / Beta readers

As I approach the end of my first draft this concept is becoming more than just a twinkle in my eye. It’s quietly growing into the elephant in the corner of the room.

What are beta readers? How do I get one? How long will it take? Will they tear my work to pieces?

I resorted to asking some seasoned pros for advice and they really have given some amazing helpful and comprehensive answers. Please welcome Geoff and Dylan

Why use a Beta reader at all?

GEOFF – You need someone to tell you the story hangs together. That is what I want. Not a clean up on typos and grammar though that is useful, but is the plot engaging, do the characters work, does the story flow, make sense etc. to me a beta reader is not a paid for editor who could do the same job but a friendly help mate who is prepared to offer a view, possibly in return for you reading their work. Ideally, it is someone you know and trust to tell you as it is without some other agenda. But I’m not sure there’s any difference between a beta reader and the right sort of editor – clearly you need an editor as well for grammar and typos but that is different to a beta reader.

DYLAN – As a writer you are too close to your work. Even when you leave a manuscript to rest for a few weeks before going back to it, you know the story intimately. You know the character’s motivations and their backstories. You need beta readers to tell you what you’ve actually written, rather than what you intended to write. They give you insight to things you’ve missed out, things you’ve never thought of, plot holes, characterisation issues and so on.

How do you find your Beta readers?

GEOFF – Word of mouth, brazenly asking people, posting about the book and asking for help – personally I have found people love to help albeit that sometimes they don’t realise quite what is involved.

DYLAN – By asking people nicely.

When choosing a Beta reader, do you look for a certain type of reader? i.e. someone who does or doesn’t read your particular genre, and why?

GEOFF – I want someone who will take the job seriously. Ideally they will have a fondness for the genre but they must be open-minded. My first work – a comedic book – was easy enough to place. For my current WIP I had three aspects where a specific Beta would be useful. I found someone to cover two of the three.

DYLAN – I think it’s important to get a spread of people who are likely to view your work differently. Try to get writers and readers, those that are immersed in your genre and those that aren’t. Most important, get people who aren’t afraid to tell you the truth.

How long do you expect a Beta reader to take to read your work – do you agree a time?

GEOFF – I always tell them when I need the results by and I’m realistic to make sure I give them at least a month and often longer.

DYLAN – I try to set them a deadline of around a month, giving them warning beforehand, but they get as much time as they need.

How much feedback do you expect to receive or give when going through a beta reading process?

GEOFF – Piece of string. I tell Beta readers that I want more than ‘well done’ but then they know that. I try and give them at least three things to have in mind as they read. In all honesty I’m grateful for whatever I get, given they aren’t being paid and if they are shit I don’t ask again. I have the luxury of no deadlines so if I find the Beta reader or Beta readers I have asked aren’t any good I can circle back and recalibrate my timings.

DYLAN – Each beta reader is different. Based on their background and inclination I like to give an overview of how I felt about the book and then break it down into plot, setting, pacing and characterisation.

Do you set any guidelines or ask any specific questions of beta readers before giving them your work? 

GEOFF – Yes to questions, no to guidelines. I want the Beta reader to work as they feel comfortable. If they ask for guidelines then I discuss with them. Recently I had a Beta reader respond in three parts – plot, dialogue and other but that was their choice and they were looking at my writing about American characters hence dialogue as a separate topic.

DYLAN – I’ll ask them to cover the areas I mentioned above beforehand, and occasionally point them to a specific scene I’m concerned about, but otherwise I leave it to them. Any feedback is gold dust and I don’t want to either restrict them or steer them too much.

What does beta read feedback look like? Or maybe more importantly feel like?

GEOFF – I don’t think there is one way it is set out. The best is someone who will take a word version and annotate it with comments and changes but an email explaining is just as good. I don’t feel feedback – that’s far too spinach and quorn for me.

DYLAN – Again, it’s different depending on who the beta reader is. I like my beta readers to be blunt and honest. I don’t need the feedback sugar-coated because it’s important I get both their thoughts and emotions at the time of reading. All I ask is that it’s constructive. I always say “don’t tell me it’s shit, tell me it’s shit because…”

How do you receive feedback? All in one go or chapter by chapter? In a word doc, or hand written scrawls across the page?

GEOFF – See above; I had all sorts. I prefer not hand written scrawls and I prefer not face to face. I want to absorb their ideas. Some however prefer to explain themselves. There I have learnt to button my lip and not ask anything unless I really don’t understand what they are trying to say.

DYLAN – Most send me feedback electronically. Some like to give general thoughts, others a more detailed chapter by chapter run through.

Have you ever been stung or pleasantly surprised by beta reading?

GEOFF – My first Beta reader – my wife – hated it. I realised how hard it was and after that have always been grateful for whatever is said, even if it pulls something apart. No one, yet, has been obviously out to destroy so I take whatever they say in good faith. Have I been pleasantly surprised? Once; my current WIP contains a lot of the science of genetics and I had two biology graduates from oxford read it. They both made the same points and both complemented me on my understanding; since I stopped biology aged 12 I was quietly pleased!

DYLAN – I’m always pleasantly surprised by the feedback my beta readers give me, even if it’s pointing out terrible writing or major errors.

What’s the best advice you could give someone about to embark on the Beta reading phase?

GEOFF – Ask anyone who you think might be good, if they’d do it. Even if you don’t use them there will be another occasion. Work hard to make them feel comfortable; they know how much this means to you but if they are really going to be helpful they need to be made really comfortable that you’ll not eat them or, worse, if they are friends, you’ll not hate them. Remember: once you give them your manuscript it’s no longer yours, it is theirs and anything they say is right. Treat them with kid gloves and respect; if they haven’t understood something, chances are you haven’t told it very well. However if they suggest a solution be very wary about accepting it. Only you know your own book.

DYLAN – For the writer, be very grateful for the feedback you receive, positive or negative, and remember that any comments the beta reader makes is because they want to improve the book. You don’t have to take all points on board but you should read and consider each one carefully.

For the beta reader, be honest and constructive. These are your opinions so they can’t be wrong. And yes, we’ll still be speaking at the end of this!

***

So here are my top 10 tips for the Beta reading stage:

The post 10 TOP TIPS For the BETA Reading Stage appeared first on Sacha Black.

How do you read? What happens to you?

Drifting off into another world when reading might be wonderful for the joy of the story. But it presents significant problem for me if I want to learn anything from the author.

When you read, are you reading as a reader or a writer? I always read as a reader. Allowing myself to be completely absorbed, to feel what the characters feel, smile at their wins and cry over their losses. But how do you stay consciousness enough to pick out the points you can learn from and still read like a reader?

There are the obvious things all readers like:

• Gritty multi-layered characters with hopes, dreams and faults.
• Characters being tested to their limits
• Pace – enough to keep you interested
• Story arc and a climax
• A statisfying ending
• Some kind of antagonist or bad guy
• An absorbing world

There are more, but you get my point. I don’t want to write a blog post telling anyone to suck eggs, or whatever the phrase it. These points are standard. It’s the more subtle things that I want to learn from. The nuances, the individual word choices in a sentence that give vivid imagery. Or the sentences that make me catch my breath and read faster, faster, faster because I just HAVE to know what happens. Or the actions a character takes that make me fall in love with them a little more.

There’s no magic to my method. I try to read a fraction slower than normal – hard if it’s a pacey book. I keep a pencil, highlighter or trusty index finger to hand depending on how I am reading. If on my kindle, then I use the highlighting function to highlight any I pick up. To ensure I keep buried in the book, I use my emotions as a flag system. If I smile, I check myself – why did I smile, a quick scramble back through the previous paragraph and hey presto, I just learnt a new trick. If I find myself scanning faster and faster, feeling desperate to just know, then I do the same. If I cry, if I feel anything, I stop and try and identify why.

Some of these might seem odd given you wont have any of the few hundred pages of context I had. But I thought it would be helpful to share some of the things I highlighted from the last book I read (End of Days):

1. ‘…can see the frustration stiffening the lines of his shoulders.’

Why did I highlight it? I guess because it painted wonderful images, in one sentence I knew exactly how he felt, and what it did to his body, I saw and felt the emotion.

2. ‘I put my hand over my mouth to keep from calling him.’

That’s the protagonist speaking, and a display of physical action showing her innocent love for the male lead. I thought it was so sweet an innocent and a beautifully honest depiction of what a teen might do to stop herself from calling out to the boy and admitting something she didn’t want to.

3. ‘The October wind tugs at my hair. Dry leaves float by, lost and abandoned.’

As I admitted in my post describing my writing process I’m still developing my ability to do description. This is a great example of weaving atmospheric description into the story – plus it gives away a piece of description about the protagonist too – which can be difficult when writing in the first person.

Some questions from me to you, I would love to know the answers to:

1. What do you naturally pick up on when you read your favourite stories?
2. Why are they your favourite, as a writer why do you appreciate them?
3. Do you collect and highlight pieces of text? If not, do you do something else to gather your favourite excerpts or ‘lessons’?

The post Read Like A Writer – Collect Words. Collect Sentences. appeared first on Sacha Black.

I’ve been waiting for the release of this book for the best part of a year. End of Days is the last instalment in the Penryn and the End of Days trilogy from Susan Ee. I’ll admit I felt like a kid, but I had to have it on pre-order as soon as it was available, that’s how much I wanted to read it!

Susan Ee’s trilogy is a YA/NA Fantasy/Dystopian trilogy – the same genre as the likes of Hunger Games and Divergent – the same genre I write, so I couldn’t help but read it. I adored the first book Angelfall. The second book World After was ok – but it felt much like a lot of second books in trilogies – a filler, a stop gap before the climax in the third book. (I’ll put links and photos and blurbs to the first two books at the end).

So you’re not completely lost the general background to the first two books is – Angel apocalypse – they bring war on humans the protagonist saves an angel (Raffe who happens to be an Archangel and gods wrath.) They start to fall in love – which is completely forbidden.

To End of Days, the final instalment.

Amazon gives this blurb:

After a daring escape from the angels, Penryn and Raffe are on the run. They’re both desperate to find a doctor who can reverse the twisted changes inflicted by the angels on Raffe and Penryn’s sister. As they set off in search of answers, a startling revelation about Raffe’s past unleashes dark forces that threaten them all. 

When the angels release an apocalyptic nightmare onto humans, both sides are set on a path toward war. As unlikely alliances form and strategies shift, who will emerge victorious? Forced to pick sides in the fight for control of the earthly realm, Raffe and Penryn must choose: Their own kind, or each other?

My Review:

I adored the first book so I was eagerly waiting for the final installment to find out what happens to the main characters. Ee doesn’t disappoint.

The book is generally quite pacey. Stylistically it’s written as an easy read. So much so that I found myself slipping through the pages, I’d blink and I’d read 15 chapters. The chapters are short which helps to keep the pace too.

The main character Penryn, is a really loveable protagonist, you can’t help but want her to ‘win’. She sucks you in and makes you feel for her. Ee beautifully depicts the raw emotions that teens really do feel. I found myself grinning at her first kiss, feeling her pain as she’s rejected and the desperation for her to get the boy. This really, is a love story at its heart. For me, the rest of the plot seems to disappear into trivialities, did I actually care who was elected as the new messenger? Not really, I was too busy caring about Penryn and Raffe. The characters really are exceptional. I imagine they are relatable to an entire generation of YA readers and those who are not quite so YA anymore… *cough*.

What I like about this series is that it is ‘real’ Penryn’s mother has mental health issues, and her sister… well, I will let you read and find out what happens to her. What Ee does, is touch on gritty real life issues in her fantasy genre (albeit mostly in the first novel). I like this, because a lot of novels in this genre don’t do that.

The novel builds to a wonderful crescendo. I did find the last 20% of the novel smidge slow. After the pace of the first two books and the first two thirds of the final book, it felt like a lot of fannying around to get to the ending we all knew was coming (and wanted). There was so much description and nothingness in the last few chapters before the final battle commenced.

But the actual ending? Well I got what I came for – I was thoroughly satisfied with the outcome.

That being said, this is my only other critique. The book got to the crescendo – what happened, happened and then it stopped dead. If I had a physical copy I would have flicked the pages over going ‘Huh?’ Don’t get me wrong, it was exactly what I wanted, but it was so good, I sort of wanted to know a bit more, I needed just a tiny bit more closure.

Thankfully Ee wrote an epilogue… I breathed a sigh of relief and then read it… Sadly it didn’t add anything to the book, plus it ended even more abruptly than the novel. It was two utterly random pages of nothing, and as I finished it I genuinely frowned and say ‘is that it?’… out loud, in the middle of the night with my wife asleep in bed next to me (she wasn’t impressed at being woken up!)

Am I complaining? No, not really. At the end of the day I got what I came for. I loved the characters, the plot and the overall ending. Would I recommend the trilogy? You’re damn right I would – especially to YA fantasy/dystopian readers.

There are two other reasons I love Susan Ee:

1. She skirts around religious topics – angel wars, Nephilim, Archangels and apocalypses. I find this fascinating as a topic for a YA novel.

2. She started out at an indie author. She self published Angelfall, and I think due to its success has gone under a publishing house now – Hodder Paperbacks. Good for her – that kind of self published success is something I can only aspire to. Also – and I am very excited that she is in talks with film directors…. Angelfall might well big coming to the big screen… eeek.

Final Book Rating: 4 out of 5 because unlike Veronica Roth, she gave us the ending we all wanted!

I’m going to give the overall trilogy two ratings – For anyone who doesn’t read the genre I’d say 3 out of 5 – it probably won’t set your world on fire, but it’s a good easy read and wonderful story with fantastic characters.

For anyone who does read the genre I would give the overall trilogy 4 out of 5. You will love it. It’s everything you want from this kind of series.

If you want to buy the trilogy you can visit here:

Angelfall Book 1

Blurb:

It’s been six weeks since the angels of the apocalypse destroyed the world as we know it. Only pockets of humanity remain.

Savage street gangs rule the day while fear and superstition rule the night.

When angels fly away with a helpless girl, her seventeen-year-old sister Penryn will do anything to get her back.

Including making a deal with the enemy.

World After Book 2

Blurb:

In this sequel to the bestselling fantasy thriller, Angelfall, the survivors of the angel apocalypse begin to scrape back together what’s left of the modern world. When a group of people capture Penryn’s sister Paige, thinking she’s a monster, the situation ends in a massacre. Paige disappears. Humans are terrified. Mom is heartbroken.

Penryn drives through the streets of San Francisco looking for Paige.

Why are the streets so empty? Where is everybody? Her search leads her into the heart of the angels’ secret plans, where she catches a glimpse of their motivations, and learns the horrifying extent to which the angels are willing to go.

Meanwhile, Raffe hunts for his wings. Without them, he can’t rejoin the angels, can’t take his rightful place as one of their leaders. When faced with recapturing his wings or helping Penryn survive, which will he choose?

End of Days Book 3

After a daring escape from the angels, Penryn and Raffe are on the run. They’re both desperate to find a doctor who can reverse the twisted changes inflicted by the angels on Raffe and Penryn’s sister. As they set off in search of answers, a startling revelation about Raffe’s past unleashes dark forces that threaten them all. 

When the angels release an apocalyptic nightmare onto humans, both sides are set on a path toward war. As unlikely alliances form and strategies shift, who will emerge victorious? Forced to pick sides in the fight for control of the earthly realm, Raffe and Penryn must choose: Their own kind, or each other?

The post End of Days By Susan Ee – Book Review appeared first on Sacha Black.