Reminder: Free short story “Family Love” under Pearl for your Enjoyment below.
I have learnt self-discipline is a necessary ingredient in cooking up a novel.
Once the manuscript is in the hands of the beta-readers, the reins may be loosened a tad as you prepare the related data (the seasoning) for the publishing process. The mind is allowed some freedom to explore the exciting new ideas for a new novel clamouring for attention inside your skull.
BUT, when the manuscripts are returned, self-discipline is more important than ever as you face the pages (those you thought were error-free) now dripping with the blood of red biro.
Remember, you ignore your beta-readers’ opinions at your peril. These readers come to your work with fresh eyes and an open mind. They are the forerunners, the phalanx of your general audience.
Don’t be down-heartened. Whip up your self-discipline, hog-tie it and screw down the harness. Bring polish to your novel.
Current Weather and Tides
Yes, my manuscripts are now dripping with the blood of red biro.
I am not allowed out until each mark/idea/comment is addressed.
I plan on a release date for this fourth novel in early December.
Keep safe, Keep smiling, Keep reading, Keep writing.
A Pearl for your Enjoyment
By Elizabeth Rimmington 2021
The sound of merriment marched out across the lawn to where it penetrated with ease the thick walls of the large shed where he sat – his back against the front wheel of her Marks Moir 1923 two-seater car. Possibly the only thing she truly loved in her lifetime. A gift from the grandparents on their last birthday. Bitterness buried deep inside his chest, stole his breath. He did not need to be there to see the beauty of Beatrice, his twin, dazzle all about her. She had been doing that since she first drew air. His ears burnt with the memory of her oft-repeated phrase as she’d throw a languid arm about his shoulders.
“Now everyone, let me introduce Porky, my unfortunate twin. Say ‘Hi’ to everyone daaarling.”
Never once had she failed to steal any and every friend, he brought home. Her greetings on those occasions, “Oh, Porky, what would we do without you dragging in all the country strays.”
But this was the unkindest cut of all. Today his sister was going to marry the love of his life – Charles Gordon.
A burst of cheers exploded across the family estates and out over the plateau before it slid down the mountain’s edge.
Pressing his lips tight over his clenched teeth he reached up for it again, lowering his hand before he could pick it up.
She had not always been evil to him. On the many occasions when he felt their father’s strap across his backside, refusing to dob in his sister, she had come slithering into his room with gratitude and a plate of cake or tart stolen from cook’s kitchen.
On the other hand, she never drew back from making him the butt of her jokes using his physical deformities to encourage laughter from their friends.
He bit his lip and reached up one last time. He flexed his fingers before snatching up the cutters in his hand. He scrambled down flat on his back and wiggled his head and shoulders under the front of the vehicle. With a faint kerplunk sound, the deed was done. The brake cable had been cut almost through. In his haste to climb out from under the chassis, he almost knocked himself out on the axle.
Rubbing his skull, he hastily replaced the tool and retreated through the back door to the rear of the shed where his twenty-first birthday present from the grandparents, a Bristol Type 22 two-seater World War 1 aircraft stood.
At the sound of someone starting her car inside the shed, he shrank down in the cockpit. The married couple must be ready to leave. No doubt his mother would reprimand him for not being present for the farewell ceremony but he’d face her later. He was not going to pretend happiness when he had been betrayed in such a manner.
The noise of the revving Marks Moir was deafened by the roar of the aircraft as he sent it shooting along the runway and up into the air. Instead of the euphoric sensation usually experienced in-flight his heart thundered inside his chest as he watched the car swinging into the twists and turns of the range road. Faster and faster the car careened down the hill. From his viewpoint, he could see the frantic actions of the two people inside the runaway vehicle. It took little effort to imagine their terrified words to each other. A cloud of thick dust and broken car parts spraying off in all directions heralded the impact.
He had no time to enjoy his success. Surprise and anger contorted his features. The motor of the Bristol coughed and hiccupped. Hands danced above the controls increasing the fuel mixture and checking the gauges. Without warning, silence filled the air about him but for the wind rushing past his head and through the struts between the wings. Fuel – a fuel blockage he guessed. Fury and anger painted the colour in his eyes but it did not last too long. A giant fireball filled the sky.
Headlines in the local Gazette within two days.
Tragedy strikes the Dangerfield family well known for their standing within our community.
The twin children of Jack and Matilda Dangerfield met their fates on the same day at similar times in different accidents after the marriage of Beatrice to the member for South Sydney, Charles Gordon. Beatrice and Gordon were killed instantly in an unfortunate accident on the range road late Saturday afternoon. Her brother, known with affection as Porky, died when his plane exploded while farewelling his sister from the air.