The Cabin

NEW PORTION IN BOLD

Join us for a progressive writing experiment! Laura from  www.todaysdose.wordpress.com  and Simon from Planet Simon came up with the idea that we work together on a story ‘seed’ and let it out into the blogoshpere she has begun the story with only a few paragraphs and a title, I’ve added a little too! Let’s see where this goes! 

 

 


 

She put her face upwards and let the warm water of the shower run over, into her hair, down her body, and around her feet. She stood in there for quite some time, without washing or moving anything except her hands over her face and hair. Perhaps this was more of an emotional and mental cleanse, for certain she wanted all of the past 72 hours erased from her, like the water that now so easily disappeared into the drain.

She had arrived at his apartment that evening when the sun was just sinking below the horizon. Her body went limp as she got out of the car and collapsed into his waiting embrace. Little was said between the two, for all that needed speaking in that moment was said in silence as their arms found each other. He gently pulled her sleeping children from the car as she retreated to the bathroom.

The children. She rubbed her face gently with the warm water as she thought of them now, sharing two large beds and snuggled together. They knew very little, and she had to keep it that way for the foreseeable future. Little was said to them on the day of their abrupt departure, but her calm, quiet voice and pleading eyes told them what they needed to know.

Only one person could she tell. Barbara. The kind of friend a person lives a lifetime praying to have. The friend you can tell everything and then nothing, and she would understand always.

***

She let out another sigh when she thought of her dear friend, whom she would likely not see again. And she worried for her as well. She had put her at risk by confiding in her and asking for help. But then she remembered how strong Barbara was and they had both helped each other out of many difficult situations. Barbara had lost a child to leukemia several years ago, and while the pain was unbearable, she bore it with all the grace, love and acceptance that could only be seen as admirable.

Her thoughts continued to drift as the water came down… to her husband who walked out after their third and last child was born. She had been grocery shopping after a long day at work and came home to find him gone, his side of the closet empty and drawers void of his personal effects. She never received answers to the gnawing questions, yet within a few weeks of his disappearance, she did receive a petition for divorce. Within a few months, it was settled through attorneys without her ever seeing him. Child support had been established, but as his employer was unknown, or he was not working, she never received one cent. No goodbye. No answers. No money. Just a hollowness in her heart and stomach that woke up with her every morning.

Barbara had been there for that, too. She was kind and gentle with the kids, who are also left with their own pain and questions pertaining to their sudden abandonment. How ironic was it now that she was far from her home without telling anyone. No warning, no explanation, just another emptiness in her life that left her asking why.

***

All this was now in the past though, the event so of the last few days had seemed a whirlwind and she wasn’t sure yet how safe she was. There was no way the mob could fine here here? Could they? She had done exactly as Robert had told her, she had not driven directly, there was no record of this place and she had destroyed her phone and thrown it away.

Yet there was this feeling she couldn’t shake.

The sun was setting, with the children asleep she allowed herself a moment of quiet out on the porch. Sat there in the rocking chair she allowed the sun to warm her and for a little time she forgot about what had happened and why she was here in this beautiful hideaway. As the sun started to touch the edge of the lake she walked around to the side, looking up into to the hills there suddenly as she looked up her heart froze.

A simple flash up in the hills stunned her into total fear.

Was there someone up there watching them? Was there something up there that the sun had glinted on, the thoughts ran through her like a raging river, uncontrollable at first. The she calmed and realised that if someone was watching she mustn’t do anything to arouse their suspicion.

But the next questions in her head were – should she go up and look or should she run?

***

I’m going to tag this to lolsyslibrary to carry on this story, if at any time someone can not carry this on, please tag it back to either Simon or Laura (see links at the top. Copy an paste the story as you receive it, mark where you stop and tag it on to the next person. Please keep the links as this will mean we can keep track of the story as it grows.

Thanks Bloggies!

Have fun with this.

Simon & Laura

The Cabin

Join us for a progressive writing experiment! I have begun the story with only a few paragraphs and a title. Let’s see where this goes! Laura, guest writer from www.todaysdose.wordpress.com

She put her face upwards and let the warm water of the shower run over, into her hair, down her body, and around her feet. She stood in there for quite some time, without washing or moving anything except her hands over her face and hair. Perhaps this was more of an emotional and mental cleanse, for certain she wanted all of the past 72 hours erased from her, like the water that now so easily disappeared into the drain.

She had arrived at his apartment that evening when the sun was just sinking below the horizon. Her body went limp as she got out of the car and collapsed into his waiting embrace. Little was said between the two, for all that needed speaking in that moment was said in silence as their arms found each other. He gently pulled her sleeping children from the car as she retreated to the bathroom.

The children. She rubbed her face gently with the warm water as she thought of them now, sharing two large beds and snuggled together. They knew very little, and she had to keep it that way for the foreseeable future. Little was said to them on the day of their abrupt departure, but her calm, quiet voice and pleading eyes told them what they needed to know.

Only one person could she tell. Barbara. The kind of friend a person lives a lifetime praying to have. The friend you can tell everything and then nothing, and she would understand always.

WHY OTHER WRITERS ARE YOUR FRIENDS…AND NOT YOUR COMPETITION

A while ago I had  been trying to get some great blogging writers to guest post here on Planet Simon and last week I got a great surprise Ari Meglen sent me a surprise guest post. I was dead chuffed! Ari runs the #MerryWriters tag game on Twitter which is really useful to meet other like minded writers. Anyway, Ari has some great words about how writers see other writers and… read the post, it’s great stuff! Go and look at her site and see what she’s up to, thanks again Ari!


 

Firstly, I want to say thank you to Simon for inviting me to guest post on his blog.  I appreciate the opportunity to share my thoughts with all of you.

A damaging mindset

I connect with a lot more writers than I did a few years back, which is great, but I am still saddened by just how often I see and hear some writers treat others as if we are all in competition.

This is not the case and we damn well shouldn’t react as if it is.  When writers see each other as competition, it is damaging.

They end up focusing on the wrong things, focusing on what their “competition” is up to, how they can “steal” the other writers’ readers and even to some extremes, create sock puppet accounts to leave nasty and negative reviews.

We’re in this together

The good thing about being a writer, is that even if we are writing the same genre, the same sub-genre as others, there is truly a space for all.

How many dystopian novels are there?  How many horror stories featuring malevolent spirits?  How many re-telling of fairy tales?

The answer is loads!  Loads and loads of these and of each genre, of each sub-genre.

We are not really in direct competition.  After all, if someone enjoys reading, say, werewolf novels, then they will look for other books in that category, not stay reading only one writers work on the genre.

So, if you write werewolf novels, you won’t “lose” customers to a rival werewolf writer, because the likelihood is that the readers will want to read more and thus end up reading yours too.

Jealousy is a bitter poison

It can be hard not to look at other writers’ work and not feel a stab of jealousy.  Jealousy is very human but it’s not healthy.  In times like that we need to step back, take a breath and appreciate the writer’s work.

If we are overwhelmed by how well they write their prose, we should study it, not sneer at it.  We learn from each other.  There is a reason the best writers are big readers.  From each book we read we glean more, and it subtly affects our own writing.

So, let go of the jealousy as it does nothing to serve you, only causes a hindrance.

Why writers are your friends

Writers are some of the friendliest, most supportive people I’ve ever met.  There are some genuine people who want nothing more than to cheer you on in your writing journey.

There are writers who have done the journey already and want to reach back to help you.  There are writers who are still working on their story and want to push you up.  There are new writers who feel inspired by your work and want to learn from you.

We aren’t in competition, we are in a community and should treat it as such.  If you are treating other writers as your competition you are losing out on an incredible resource as well as some epic friendships.

Good writers support each other.  We are Critique Partners, where a writer’s eye is needed to look over the manuscript to catch things before a reader sees it.  Writers are fountains of knowledge on different techniques, whether that is for outlining, for structures, for grammar etc.

Writers aren’t jumper cables… don’t use them only when you need help

I’ve sadly known a few writers who very much had the “writers are my competition” mindset, up until they needed a Critique Partner or an ARC reader and starting sniffing around other writers trying to get assistance.

Please don’t do that.  Treating your fellow writers as if they are to be beaten in the arena of book sales and then suddenly being nice when you need a favour is pretty bad etiquette.

Foster goodwill with other writers because we are a collective (not because you will want their assistance down the line).  We are a collective because we understand each other.

We know the feeling of staring helplessly at a blank page.  We know the feeling of riding that rollercoaster of “this is my best work yet” then “this is just awful”.  We know the crushing sensation of someone who says something horrid about our work.

So, support your fellow writers, be their cheerleaders, buy their books, tell people about them and support their journey.  For we are all in this together.

 

 

Planet Simon

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