I was in the shop the other day, when low and behold the theme song to my work in progress played on the radio. Now, I have read one should keep songs out of your books. One should also avoid having your characters talk with a heavy accent. In addition, one’s blog posts should be perfectly grammatically correct. Eish! I cannot seem to keep to any of these pieces of advice.
Due to copyright protection, song lyrics can cause some hefty issues. However, titles do not hold copyright protection. Moreover, no one said you can’t make up your own lyrics – which is what I did anyway.
Halloween has come and gone. In my defense, we don’t really do the “old hallowed night” thing here. Also, I’ve been somewhat pre-occupied. More on that later.
I’ve wanted to share a snippet from my current work in progress. It is somewhat creepy and very Haloween’y. It also goes well with Christmas, which is coming up soon. Obviously, I will re-write this again. Many times. Currently, this is still part of chapter one. I may, however, start off chapter two this way…
Obviously, no guarantees that it will ever see the publishing light of day. I just happen to love this mini scene…. And so here it is:
It seemed to be dusk. Miranda found herself in a forest. A branch cracked loudly as she stepped on it.
“Rudolf the red nose reindeer” she heard a girl’s voice sing off in the distance. The song vibrated through the trees and stopped when Miranda looked at a black crow, which had just perched on a stump in front of her.
She heard the girl laugh in song as it seemed the child was running through the dense growth.
Miranda would have followed the girl if it was not for the crow which at that point made the most horrible wailing croak.
“ARRRRRR!” its broken voice vibrated through the tree stems. The menacing echo of a flock birds taking flight made her heart jump. She looked at this black crow and noticed its blue eyes when blood started flowing from them. The thick red liquid quickly oozed all over the bird’s face. His wings got drenched. It started fluttering around, trying to take off. As if covered in a thick layer of oil, the blood-soaked bird, could hardly move. As blood oozed from the birds every pour, it fell to the ground in a big messy puddle of crimson. The copper smelling wet patch seemed to grow ever closer towards Miranda. A crack of wood announced someone behind the dense vegetation. A curly blond haired girl stepped out. She was wearing a white dress and white shoes, which were splattered in red as she jumped into the pool of blood.
“Why Santa chose him, not even Death knows” the girl’s clear voice sang. She giggled and ran back into the overgrowth.
“Wait! Wait!” Miranda called after her. She was about to follow when she noticed the lake of blood surrounding her. The scent of feces filled Miranda’s senses. It became difficult for her to breathe with this stench. Miranda tasted the acidic burn of vomit as she tried to fight nausea. She wanted to run, she wanted to scream but she was frozen.
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About the Author
Sarina often sat on the peaks of the dunes of Southern Africa watching the ocean tide drift in. A daydreamer, often dreaming up stories for lands somewhere over the rainbow. She is a mother, a wife, a blogger and an overall creative spirit. Above all, she is a human being.
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