Oh…hello there. Um…I’m going to stop posting my little novel because, for one, I don’t think it’s so ‘little’ anymore and for another, I don’t think anyone is reading it and for yet another, I have to, simply HAVE to go back and read it myself and try and figure it out. I haven’t got any sexy bits and I think I am writing a not very good mystery novel and that’s not what I’d intended. I want something more…more…something. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t know how to piece this together and using this technique of posting daily is changing the way it’s written. I need to condense and edit and re-read. Daily postings are not allowing me enough time to get this done properly. I imagine Dickens had the whole thing done when he serialized his novels. Leaving them with cliffhangers and all…I am sliding along day to day and I fear I am boring you. It will read completely differently if it were all together in a novel. I think.
So. If anyone out there wants to finish reading ‘Sparks’ just drop me an email address and I will send you the attachment with the book on it as I’ve gotten it written so far. Or just wait another couple of weeks and the whole thing will be finished-except the final book will be a LOT shorter. It’s almost done. Has anyone figured out what’s going on? Who dunnit? I think it’s too obvious.
It’s still fun to write and the exciting part is right now-as it all comes together. It’s fantastic to see all the threads winding themselves up and, after a few stutter steps, I can see it all coming together. But not with daily posts. Sorry. But I’m thrilled that I’ve written so much and thanks to the inspiration of NaNoWriMo for the giving me the impetus to do this. I never in a million years thought it would turn into a novel. And one day it will be…
It will allow me to start ANOTHER one-I already have a great idea and I’m itching to start it.
Anyway, I’m sorry if I’ve led you on, but if there’s anyone out there who wants to read this through to the end, please let me know and I will send it to you. Not that it’s finished. But it will be soon.
Hugs, Love, Fun,
Edwards shifted in his upright chair and gasped as a shooting pain shook him. His left arm was in a sling and taped to his body. Every movement hurt but at least it wasn’t like the initial pain he’d had, when he couldn’t move and every breathe was agony. Time the doctors said and suggested that he try physiotherapy. He had to move his arm so it didn’t stiffen up and cause further damage. The sooner he began, the better.
Well, to hell with that. The painkillers would have to do for now. Doug examined the bottle. He’d already had 3 and he knew he shouldn’t have another. He hated to have his intellect impaired, and they did slow down his thought processes but…it hurt! And he had things to do. He tried to get rooms for Sonny and Rachal but the desk claimed that they weren’t taking reservations. They’d both come to the hotel for instructions when it was clear that no one could get near Waverley with that damned policeman tramping around. His best photographer, Sonny, well, now that Vic Torronte was out of comission, his best photographer was Sonny, who claimed that he couldn’t get a good shot. He’d shown up with some long shots of the women sitting in the sun talking! Vic would have made something happen. That reminded him. He made a mental note to call the hospital and find out what was happening with Vic. The fool. To get himself shot and to lose the camera as well. Still, he was better than Sonny. Sonny was hopeless. Who cared if Annie had apparently adopted Sandra Latimer? He’d almost fired him on the spot!
They needed something big, something exciting. The Shot. Doug swore again and glared at the empty garden below. They’d moved him to the back of the hotel, the rotten so and so’s. He’d sent Rachal and Sonny to stake out Todd Jackmans studio, see if there was anything there. Keep an ear open on the police band width so that they could be there if anything happened.
Useless! If they could only get that cop away for a few minutes. He’d heard that Rick Saunders had a reservation this weekend. He was coming up to see Annie, no doubt to talk to her about the movie. And Sandra was there, like a spider in her web, weaving a spell around everyone. He had to get her out of Waverley somehow. Create some excitement…