Hi. I am glad that you found your way to my site.
I am a writer. Some of my work is here for you to enjoy so welcome to the worlds created by my imagination. Any comments you wish to make are welcome.
You can buy my novel Silencio by following the links under the section ‘Buy My Novels’.
All stories are my original work and my copyright and can not be copied or distributed without my express permission.
Find out more about my novels at http://laberrynovels.org/
Here is the beautiful Westbourne Bookshop. The owners have just celebrated their first birthday and are working hard to create the perfect environment to shelter the work of the authors.
And look at what is on their shelves. My own novel Silencio.
When Will I Come Down to Earth?
The countdown has begun and the dress fittings nearly finished. Eleven months have passed since the proposal and the day that the planning began. My daughter and her beau will speak in front of us all and I will clutch my square of soft linen, hoping that I don’t embarrass them with a sob, audible in one of the quiet moments.
Soon it will all be a lovely memory and my feet will touch the ground.
I will be sorry but also admit that I am looking forward to concentrating on book number 2.
Lessons learned are:
- mother of the bride outfits can cost more than the wedding dress
- you can’t convince a man that eyebrows, nails, make-up, hair, etc matter
- hats don’t suit everyone and feathers coming out of one’s head can look ridiculous
- money doesn’t grow on trees
- the heart does swell when your child is happy
Water caressed my body, I flipped over and flattened my feet against the tiles. Before I pushed, a voice breached my solitude.
For a second, I thought it was a figment of my imagination, a phantom sound created by rushing fluid in my ears, lacking their original ability after the trauma of years attending concerts and discotheques. I propelled my body against the pressure of the water.
A white-haired man wearing a shirt, too short to hide his belly, grasped the gate and leered through the metal bars. My eyesight is not quite what it used to be, worn down by years of reading small print in poor conditions, and the goggles distorted my view but I saw that he was admiring my costume.
‘Are you enjoying it?’
My heart shattered. Years ago, that man had captured it with his flame locks and fine physique. I lowered my gaze and saw the true image of my self and yearned, just for a minute, for those days long gone.
I recently received a lovely review on http://www.amazon.com from a reader who learned about my novel while she was flying home to the States from the UK. Apparently the passenger in the adjacent seat was reading Silencio and she recommended it so this reader downloaded it on to her Kindle.
I love this story as it does not rely on marketing or publicity or arm twisting and therefore, gives me a great feeling of pride as an author of a book that someone wants to read.
One of my favourite things about writing about the past is doing the research. Both of my novels have been set in the recent past and so there have been plenty of personal accounts to give an insight to the environment and era. People love to be asked about the 1960’s and many of my friends and colleagues have rich recollections of that period. Whereas my first novel took place in Spain, this second one is located in York and its surroundings, making it easier to research. I spent several days in the fabulous Railway Museum in York where there are old photos, magazines and articles. While there, York Theatre was closed and the company relocated to the National Railway Museum to perform. We were fortunate enough to obtain tickets for the incredible production which told the history of the York Railways against the backdrop of the wonderful old engines and carriages. Over 200 performers were involved.
My research in Spain led me to villages affected by the Spanish inquisition and along the paths less travelled by the normal tourist. Locals filled me in on their customs which change from one area in the country to another.
The best thing about the research is that my understanding of my subject develops and hopefully makes my writing entertaining and realistic.
Does a person forget the face of a loved one? His smell? Her touch?
I have been selecting photos from the many boxes in my cupboard stuffed with prints from past years for a family event that is taking place this summer. There are images of those no longer on this earth and the site of those familiar faces cause my heart to swell as I yearn for a chance to hug them just one more time.
The sense of achievement of my toddler’s face when she walked a few steps and the excited face of my child as she opened her chocolate advent calendar at the age of four cause memories to come hurtling back.
Soon she will wear a fabulous dress and pose for many other photographs and I know that these images, like those in my boxes, will have the power to move me like no other form of art.
photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Rachel yearned for the sight of land. Twenty seven days, they tossed on the ocean waves in a container that seemed smaller with each passing day. The romantic notion was now a reality and not even the midnight sky with thousands of twinkling stars could re-ignite her passion. She hated him.
Behind was a life of comfort, family and the country she loved.
Ahead nothing but more days of salty spray. The world adventure he offered.
She peeled the gold band off of her finger, lobbed it into the wake behind and sighed.
‘Your watch’, she shouted down the hatch.
http://www.rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com organises the successful Friday Fictioneers. Authors write a piece of 100 word fiction on a photo prompt and exchange comments on their work. Come and join us and see where your imagination takes you. Thank you Rochelle for keeping this group active.