Well I can now explain why I haven’t been posting as regularly as before. I have decided to enter another challenge and I am half way through. I am a little behind in meeting the deadline, but I think that I am close enough to maybe make it.
If you haven’t guessed by my recent posts, I have entered the National Novel Writing Month Challenge – which is essentially – write a novel of 50,000 words in 30 days. I am at 26,134 words. My only problem is that I don’t know how to end it. I need some help. I am going to post the gist of the story and some excerpts. Please post your comments – positive and/or negative and if you have an idea of how I should end it, please let me know.
I tentatively call the novel “Woven” just as a focus. It is about a woman who is in therapy because of some recent trauma in her life and her therapist suggests that she keep a journal and write about the happier times in her life or even negative times, with a view to understanding and resolving them. The book has two narrators, the woman and her therapist. The woman’s name is Penny after the Greek mythological character, Penelope, the sister of Helen of Troy. Penelope’s husband has gone off to war and she is waiting for him to return. It has been almost ten years and many think that she should remarry. She agrees to once she finishes a funeral shroud for her father-in-law. She weaves the shroud during the day and rips it out at night, so that it is never finished.
Woven has overtones of pressure to complete something and a hint that things are being unravelled. Here is an excerpt.
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should just set about to get some travelling done. I flipped through the classified notices in The Times and one caught my eye. It was
a trip to Istanbul in a mini van for three weeks. What really appealed to me was the price –
just 30 pounds sterling, everything included. I
rang them up and there was still space.
I could bring the cash with me when I arrived to join the group, which would be leaving in three days.
code of SW1. When I consulted my A to Z of London I realized that the street
address was no where near the very respectable addresses in SW1. In fact by accident or by design the notice had omitted a extra “1” The location was actually SW11.
Ladbrooke Grove – a rather seedy area of London, as I was about to find
out.
blocks. Litter increased noticeably. Rubber tires rested against broken fences; rubbish bins spilled their ugly contents everywhere and dogs whined. What had I done? How could anyone run a
respectable business in these conditions. I was
almost ready to turn back when I saw the van just a block away. A small group of people were milling about, my fellow travellers, I thought.
They looked like young adventurers, not deadbeats. I walked towards them, relieved.”
