“This wonderful little tale leaves me, as it should, with loads of questions and a very eerie feeling.”
I wrote this story – HOMED – to engage readers in the mystery of a child’s life when his secure base changes. It is also a crime story, if you accept a different take on the idea of crime in fiction.
It begins like this: The Tall One said, ‘Here’s his bag. Any problems, Enid, ring me.’ He looked down. ‘Bye, Wilf, you’ll be fine. High five?’ He held up a hand with his fingers spread. I didn’t bite them, though they’re a good size. The front door closed behind him, leaving me in this new sleeping place.
It smells of soap, long-ago cats, piss of Young not so long past, and sugar. My shoes are off, bag taken away.
The female says, ‘Come and make yourself comfortable, dear. It’s nearly dinner-time. Hungry?’
I nod. I want to eat.
Characters conversing? Isn’t this a great idea, interviews with characters from historical novels? Author Helen Hollick created such an interesting blog a while ago. My character, young Billy, hero of my A Relative Invasion trilogy managed his interview with some honesty and aplomb, helped along by chocolate biscuits and orange.
This is what Billy had to say:
I wasn’t that terrified when the bombs started falling, not like Kenneth who shivered in the corner of the cellar. Mother told me to look after him although I’m younger. I wasn’t that worried, only a bit, when I was evacuated with my school. Kenneth was, and he stayed behind. Auntie said she couldn’t manage without him. But I was really, really scared when I was the very last child to be chosen when we walked around the village with the teacher hoping that some kind lady would give us a billet. In the end, I was lucky, although I didn’t think so at first…
Now the men are done and dusted. Their public emergence, 7th December, has gone well.
If you’re wondering whether Harriet did intrude on the men’s book; ssshhh. Yes she did. She had a terrible shock regarding her beloved mattress that jolted her out into the dating world, but you’ll have to discover whether that was a happy experience or not when you read her encounter with a curious or incurious date.
SO PLEASED WITH MY FIRST REVIEWS.
That is the probable title of my work-in-progress. It’s a psychological domestic drama full of unspoken tensions. There is a Mr Everyman who regards himself as too ordinary to matter, but then a huge event propels him into a life which becomes increasingly bizarre…and is this of his own doing? Should curiosity always be satisfied or sometimes is it best left alone?
I’m halfway through what I hope dearly is a final draft. There have been many!