A re-imagining

Not only am I struggling to find time to post on the topics I intended this blog to cover, but also I don’t feel qualified to speak in the depth this blog, and you, the reader, deserve.

So, I’m re-imagining this site as a platform to share my experience as an emerging writer. While I won’t post the details of everything I’m doing (my life isn’t that interesting and this isn’t a diary after all), I will mention the stories I’m working on, and those I’ve submitted to competitions and publications.  

I hope you check back regularly to see where my stories and I are at, and for snippets of my favourite stories. After all, this is a blog all about the writing and only a little about me :)

Thanks for reading and, as always, your comments are most welcome,

Emanuel

So much to write; so little time...

I've been spending most of my 'spare' time either editing old stories or writing chapters for my novel. Unfortuneatly, this has left little time for blogging. It's not that I don't want to - I quite enjoy it - there just aren't enough hours in a day or days per week to do everything I want. Add two sick children to the mix, a house that refuses to clean itself and food that won't self-prepare, and... well... you get the point.

Please dont dismiss my blog just yet. Once I get a few more chapters down, or find a way to clone myself, the posts will come thick and fast. But for now it's back to digitising another chapter :)

Emanuel

The Age Short Story Competition

While I think of something interesting to post, here's a competition you'd be crazy not to enter:

The Age Short Story Competition
Closing: September 23, 2011
Word limit: 3,000
Entry fee: nil, nada, bubkis.
Prizes: totalling $6,000!

This is the big one people. Nothing to loose; everything to gain.
Just making the shortlist is sure to boost your career!


Check it out @ http://www.theage.com.au/entertainment/books/seeking-australias-writing-talent-20110729-1i3j9.html

Which pitch?

If I go back to FBOW too soon, I might work Jenny’s POV to death – as I did Martin’s. I will redraft it (I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to!); I just need to let it rest so I can see it as a whole and not think every word sucks.

On another front, I’ve spent the last few weeks working on my novel and am quite happy with the direction it’s taking.

‘So, what is this story about?’ I hear you say.

Well, funny you should ask. I’ve come up with the below pitches:

1. A coming of age story following Deimos and his twin sister, Phobos – the only teenagers living in a mining outpost on the moon.

2. Deimos and his twin sister, Phobos, are tired of their parents arguing, the stereo types forced on them, and being the only teenagers living in a mining outpost on the moon.

3. Deimos and his twin sister, Phobos, struggle with being the only teenagers living in a mining outpost on the moon, having the mission to colonise Mars depend on them, and learning the person they thought their father, isn’t.

4. Earth is overpopulated: its resources almost exhausted – leaving little room for the law-abiding citizens, let alone those in prison. A starship of convicts is leaving to colonise Mars, but will Deimos and his twin sister, Phobos, both be onboard? And, will they be on the same side of the law?

Which do you prefer?

If you can see an area that needs improving, or an angle I haven’t thought of, please share your thoughts. Please keep in mind these are not intended to be blurbs describing the entire plot; but 'pitches'. The idea is to be able to sell the novel to a publisher if I manage to corner one for only a few seconds.

I’d love to hear what you think or have my attempts put to shame :)

Thanks for visiting,

Emanuel

There are always two sides to a story...

I’m still feeling too close to For Better or Worse. I know it needs more action and immediacy, but the straps prevent him from acting and the tube down his throat prevents him from talking. I’ve really got myself in a pickle this time...

I have some shorter sentences in mind. Mostly fragments. But the words are turning to mush before my eyes. So, I thought I’d post his wife’s side of the story. This is what I came up with:

Looking through the observation window, Jenny listened to the MRI machine drone on as it scanned her unconscious husband. Sobbing, she reflected on the car accident only hours earlier and how much she loved him despite their short marriage. He’d be a great father to the child in her belly, which kicked in agreement.

His limp body was only halfway into the machine when it stopped. Doctors and nurses cautiously filed through the room’s only door, all but ignoring her.

She stopped one. ‘What’s wrong?’

The man clutched his clipboard closer to his chest, looked at her blankly for a split second or two before saying, ‘He’s not human!’

Thoughts, feedback, insults: I’ll accept them all!

Emanuel