Friday, 17 March 2017

A piece of writing from me

I don't have any profound words of wisdom today (surprise, surprise), so I thought that - since I'm a writer - I should share some of my writing with you.

*deep, panicked breaths*

Before I can chicken out, here's a quick standalone piece (250 words, I think?).

On the Hill of the King, Ella knelt beside her son. 'Here.'

He reached for the kite, hesitated, and drew his hands back. 'What if I break it?'

'You won't. I'll help you.'

He took it gently, reverently, unsure. Against the hillside and open sky he looked very small, very young. He held the kite up to the sky. 'For my father.'

Ella unwound the string. It knotted once, twice, and she eased it smooth with gentle fingers. She looked over to her son.

'There's not enough wind.' His bottom lip trembled. 'It won't fly, will it?'

'It will fly. For your father.' She lifted her face to the sky, to the wind. 'Please,' she murmured. 'One last time.'

The wind filled the kite. The string hummed under the tension. His face alight with sudden hope, the boy threw the kite into the air. It shot up like a startled bird, and he ran to claim the string. Ella passed him the spool and wrapped her slim hands around his boyish chubby ones.

For a moment the kite soared, fierce but contained. The spring-scented wind circled the boy's head, blowing his hair like the fine, fading grass around them.


The boy took the knife and looked at it a moment, then sliced the string.

With a bound the kite rose. Ella put her arm around her son's shoulder and pulled him close as they watched it go, unleashed, into the empty blue. A red shape, a spot, a speck, and gone.

At the foot of the Hill of the King stood a crowd, bunched, heads bowed. But no one set foot on the grass of the tomb but his family.

Maybe one day I'll write the rest of the story, but for now I prefer the way it is.

I wanted to share this because - well, it's hard to be a real person online, especially when you go by a pseudonym. Hopefully reading some of my work has helped you to feel like you know me a bit better, and I hope you enjoyed it! :)


  1. A lovely bit of writing, Jem! No really. This is GOOD! I like this sentence especially. "Ella passed him the spool and wrapped her slim hands around his boyish chubby ones." Aww. That's such a darling description. :)

    I'm gathering the father must have died? :( Is this the only scene, or have you written more of this story? Is the son the main character? Does he have a name? (Sorry if that was too many questions. :))

  2. Aww, Miss March! *blushes* :D

    It's currently the only scene, but when writing it I tried to keep things open, so I could write the rest of the story later if I wanted. Yes, the king/father is dead (I enjoyed making up a mourning/memorial tradition for him!). I couldn't think of a name for the son... so I pretended it was a deliberate writing choice! And I think the young widow Ella is the main character.
    (When writing it I was thinking about what might have happened to get to this point, and when I wrote
    "She lifted her face... to the wind. 'Please,' she murmured. 'One last time'"
    in my head I was imagining that she used to have some sort of wind ability, which was somehow connected to the king's death, and which she'd either given up or become unworthy of. Which is why I was interested in her as a character.)

    And no, the questions are great! Ask away, whenever/whatever you like!

    1. Aww. Thanks for giving me more details. It sounds intriguing. Especially the bit about Ella giving up, or becoming unworthy of, her wind ability. Would you classify this as a fantasy then? What types of stories do you normally write? Fantasy, historical, modern day...

    2. Probably it's fantasy, yes, although at the moment it doesn't contain any 'fantastical' elements, so... what do you call a fantasy/fairytale with no fantasy/fairies?? (I've always wondered. Fake-historical, maybe??)

      I like writing mashed-up fairytales (light fantasy, I suppose), as well as modern day runaway stories (in my mind that's a actual sub-sub-[sub-?]genre). I read and enjoy many genres, but those are mostly what I write. (I'm too lazy to research for historical!) ;)

    3. Haha, I don't know actually. Normally I just call it fantasy when it contains elements that can't actually happen in real life, you know? But I'm really not well versed when it comes to classifying things by genre. :)

      Ah, fairytales. I guess that would be slightly different than fantasy...though in my mind I sort of tend to mesh the two, I think. :P Modern day runaway stories sound like fun. :) (Haha. I know what you mean! I'm lazy about the research part of it, too. :))

  3. OOOOH this was really good! My favorite sentence was 'For a moment the kite soared, fierce but contained.' This was definitely so poetic and the vision in my head as I read the words... wow. I like the simplicity of the story and I'm sure whatever decision you make, if you prefer to make this story a bit longer, it would still work! It's great you have a frame to work with in deepening your characters and the atmosphere :)

    - Andrea at A Surge of Thunder

    1. Thanks for your kind words, Andrea! And welcome to my blog! I hope you pop back sometimes :)


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