Andrew Wille

I remember …

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood …

except it wasn’t the wood that was yellow but the fallen leaves, many of which were tinged with gingerbread brown. And it wasn’t a road they covered but a track. At least, one was a track. Green grass centred and, from the narrowness of then wet mud indentations, cartwheeled. Which thought too…[Read more]

@Seagreen, the ‘lightweight’ of your entry was in the well-chosen words; that they so well-expressed the solidity, the impact of that moment was the really clever bit. Thank you for this explanation.

Libby, thanks for a super topic and the fabulous reviews. Seagreen, a well-deserved win.

Brilliantly well done Seagreen, and thank you Libby for the challenge, your insightful comments and for picking my favourite as winner, though all were enjoyable variations on the theme.

@ Libby – I confess I never print off an MS even for my own novels, but I do, when I’m feeling confident that the end is nigh, order it as a paperback book from Blurb.

@ Richard – thank you for that description ‘instinctive writer’ which very accurately describes my creative approach (and as an artist too) It may sound like a talent but the…[Read more]

It was the same every year.

She took as many precautions as possible, wrapping everything carefully, keeping the box closed tight until the right moment came, making sure her hands were washed clean when it did.

And then…

Ordering everyone to sit down, sit still. Questioning each participant in turn to make sure she knew their exact r…[Read more]

Wowser…beta reading…

As a beta reader, I do try to find something good to say as well as making suggestions for improvements. I don’t think I go into it with a checklist per se – I use gut feeling a lot as to what feels ‘right’ to me as a reader. But I sometimess feel that I’m not an objective enough beta reader – I don’t always ‘get’ other…[Read more]

Libby and Jane have come up with some excellent questions and I can’t add much except for:

Does the writer have any specific questions? This might be something that’s crucial to whether the story works or not, e.g. Did you work out whodunit? If so, when?

Did you notice any discrepancies / inconsistencies in the story?

Were you conscious of…[Read more]

Why do you say you’re a terrible beta reader?

It’s a bit like when I had to read books for exams at school. It was no reflection on the work itself and I’ve read many of the books since with great pleasure. Something about picking up a book for a purpose (a meta-purpose if you like) that isn’t simply pleasure, idle curiosity, whatever, and my…[Read more]

Thanks for the topic. May I add that I’m a terrible beta reader. I would like to be more useful and hope to pick up some tips if this discussion develops and hopefully turns into something more.

Sorry Ath, but I didn’t reply to your “images have always been here, just not uploading images” because I wasn’t sure what you were getting at.

Hi – that was a reply to Sandra, just for avoidance of confusion. Yes, there are several very appealing forums available, including Discourse (and I must say as a longtime repairer, I like your forum and the topic). That said, with Discourse, we would need a VPS or similar non-shared server arrangement*, unlike a traditional web-host, so the…[Read more]

I do think Bella’s beta readers might be an idea, but perhaps, at least to start with, omit the financial bit and just set up a register of those willing and those wanting, with some detail of genre, etc and the willingness to send a sample chapter to see if they’re compatible.

And the possibility of uploading pictures, I’d say Handle With Care,…[Read more]

Sand

Mum was a good woman. I say was; I mean is. She’s still alive. But since the diagnosis of dementia, well, for a long while before that, I knew she was slipping away.

She sits with me as I work.

I have a phone to repair. A capacitor has failed, a tiny surface-mount component. It is fiddly and the manufacturer won’t replace it. But I wil…[Read more]

“Above the tideline”
first line provided by Thomas A Clarke

Above the tideline, an old blue rope is entangled in a bramble bush. I gaze at it while retying my hair, turning to face into the wind, risking the scratch of sand beneath my already sore eyelids; its crunching against my teeth.
Sand, salt and shell fragments speckle the twists of it,…[Read more]