Research

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Here is an extract from my current NaNoWriMo project (33.7k/50k words). The main character is paying a visit to her local library.

 

I knew what I was looking for. Passing by the small collection of books on religion, I came to a halt in what I often thought of as the “monster vault”. In more formal terms, these were the books on folk belief. I had always been fascinated by learning about what stories other cultures told their young, and the similarities and differences that spanned oceans, langugaes, and history. That included what some people now dismissed as ‘superstitions’, which they would refer to in a disdainful tone of voice. Old fashioned, outdated beliefs – so the ‘modern’ city folk liked to say. I disagreed. Science was all well and good, but there were some things science couldn’t explain. That didn’t mean those things didn’t exist. I knew this from experience.

 

One particular book caught my eye. It was shorter than those on either side of it, and looked to be less than half an inch in thickness. It had a dark red cloth cover, and in a faded gold print were the words “Beliefs of the People of the Carpathians”. I slid it off the shelf, and flicked open the cover to the contents page. My eyes skimmed it, and I nodded to myself, before returning my gaze back to the bookshelf, the little book still in my grasp. After browsing the shelves a little more, I also picked out another book. This one was both larger and thicker, and came with a green cover and silver print. It was called “European Myths, Legends, and Monsters”.

The Lounge

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This is an extract from my current Camp NaNoWriMo project.

 

“See you at dinner,” Emma called after her. She would spend the afternoon cleaning and taking care of chores. She often wondered what Pearl was up to in that lounge. After all, there was a perfectly comfortable lounge just off the kitchen that Emma was free to use as she wished. Why did Pearl need her own? If Pearl needed a private, personal space, wasn’t that what her bedroom was for? Emma had asked once, on her third day in the house. “Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Pearl had replied. There was no snappishness or shortness to her tone, though Emma had got the sense that she oughtn’t to bring it up again. But her curiosity was a persistent beast, and she couldn’t help but wonder.

The Window

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She awoke, blinking slowly. She was stretched out on the bed, the lamp still aglow and her book lying beside her, having fallen out of her hand. She yawned. It was icy cold in the room, and she sat up looking for the source of the chill. The window was open, the curtains shifting slightly in the breeze that drifted in.

Had she opened the window? She didn’t recall doing it, but she must’ve. She slid to the edge of the bed and hurried over to the window, wanting to shut out the cold air as quickly as possible. But when she got to the window, she suddenly stopped.

The moon hung brightly in the sky, not quite full but enough to cast a silvery light across the grounds of the house. It reflected brightly in the lake, shimmering. But it wasn’t this beauty that caught her eye. It was the silhouette standing on the edge of the lake.

Her breath caught in her throat. Was there really a person down there? Who was it, and why were they on private property? The figure was still, seemingly gazing out over the lake.

What do I do? Should I shout? Call the police?

And then, in a blink of an eye, she could no longer see the person. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area – they couldn’t have gone far. But there was no sign of anyone.

After watching for a few more moments and seeing no movement, she came to the conclusion she must’ve imagined it. Or perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight. She slammed the window shut and pulled the curtains tight.

The Empty Chair

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I always liked this drawing room. It was cosy, with the fireplace crackling away, the bright blue walls, and the sense of comfort, knowing the little ones were tucked up in bed for the evening and we had made it through another day. I would sit and sew by the firelight, creating little pieces of embroidery that I would show my girl the following day. She would ooh and aah over them, even though my needlework skills were – in my opinion – somewhat lacking. As she got older, she would sit with me, the two of us sitting quietly, enjoying each other’s company.

But now it’s just me. I sit here alone, and I sew, but my heart is no longer in it. I prick my finger sometimes and let the blood bloom onto the fabric as I watch it dully. She is gone now, taken away from me, and there is only emptiness. But sometimes at night, when the wind howls outside and rain pummels the windows, I think she is not quite gone. She is here. She won’t leave me.

Welcome to my world

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Hello, and welcome to my little corner of the internet. I’m an aspiring writer currently focusing on short supernatural/fantasy stories. On this blog, I’ll share some of my work. Feedback is always gratefully received, so feel free to leave comments, follow me on social media, or get in touch.

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