My trolley was full to overflowing. The wheels were stubborn and cast about in every direction besides the one I was racing for. Behind me the girl - whose name I had yet to learn - was hurrying along too, though not to the extent I would have liked. Every now and then she would pause and peruse something on the shelves before either shoveling it into her basket or taking off once more.
I was nearing the checkouts when I again missed the sound of her trolley clacking behind. I turned and saw her inspecting the labels of various drug packets.
"Leave it," I roar, startling her into action.
She catches up with me and we run together past the checkouts and out into
the empty parking lot where the fumes of the idling four-by-four cast an eerie
fog into the cold night air.
"Hurry," I shout again, as we begin to toss our wares into the vehicle.
There I was at 6am, enjoying an action packed dream in which, if I do say so myself, I was playing an absolute boss in the midst of a zombie invasion, when I awaken under the sheer weight of the need to write it down. Game over.
My mobile phone is constantly choked up with drafts that make little or no sense to me because I've typed them out while still half asleep and half demented. I have constant headaches over choosing whether to delete snippets of description or dialogue or an unfledged idea because they are simply barmy, or consign them to the steadily growing mess of papers I fear I'll never get around to.
Nothing, no time nor place, is sacred, though the most likely time for an idea to hit is the wrong time. Just this week I was sitting on a plane, preparing to take off when a fragment of prose just popped into my head. Pen and papers are safe in the overhead bin and I can't take off my seatbelt to get them. My phone is in my pocket but I'm not allowed to turn it on. So follows an agonising half hour of repeating the fragment over and over in my head until a time came when I could jot it down. I'm not even allowed the luxury of dropping off to sleep to the rocking of the turbulence.
This post sounds a lot like an elaborate moan, but in truth, I love it. I love the feeling when that perfect piece of prose just flitters into my brain and I know exactly where to put it. I adore waking up before the end of the dream, because it means I can spend many a blissful hour imagining how it could have ended. In short, this is the dream.
(All together now.... awwwwwwwww!)
Friday, August 10, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
The Stars Are Racking Up for Red Wine and Words
Red Wine and Words has received it's fourth, five star review on Amazon.com. Expertly written by a fellow author, this review had me grinning from ear to ear. It does the heart good to read that one writes with 'colourful phrasing and perfect pacing,' and that one creates characters that are 'infinitely believable' in 'gripping and astounding situations.'
I have read some work by the author of the review, Brian Dobbins, and I was truly blown away myself, which, in itself, makes this review all the more special to me.
The review can be found at the link below. Check it out. And while you're over there, take a look at Mr. Dobbins' work. I promise you won't be disappointed.
I have read some work by the author of the review, Brian Dobbins, and I was truly blown away myself, which, in itself, makes this review all the more special to me.
The review can be found at the link below. Check it out. And while you're over there, take a look at Mr. Dobbins' work. I promise you won't be disappointed.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Useless Information About Me? Why Not?
An old buddy old pal recently asked me to participate in a questionnaire for his movie review blog. Pop on over and take a look, and while you're there, give Kev some love.
In true Emma Ennis style, some of the answers are rather long winded. But I'm a writer. And these are movies. And that's all I have to say on the matter. Good day to you, Sir.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
The End is Here
Finally, the long awaited apocalyptic anthology edited by Suzanne Robb and Adrian Chamberlain, is here. Read the End First is the brainchild of these two brilliant writers and editors, and what a little darling it is too.
Twenty-four authors, twenty-four time zones and twenty-four unique ways in which to end the world. We promise you an apocalypse the likes of which you've never heard of before.
Read the End First contains my story, 'Hammered and Nail.' Set in Norway - GMT+1 - it uses an old, and quite common, disease to bring the world to it's knees.
A fellow author in the anthology, Gregory Norris, gathered together a little background information from the contributors regarding their stories. His post can be found here:
Twenty-four authors, twenty-four time zones and twenty-four unique ways in which to end the world. We promise you an apocalypse the likes of which you've never heard of before.
Read the End First contains my story, 'Hammered and Nail.' Set in Norway - GMT+1 - it uses an old, and quite common, disease to bring the world to it's knees.
A fellow author in the anthology, Gregory Norris, gathered together a little background information from the contributors regarding their stories. His post can be found here:
 |
| Read the End First |
Friday, April 13, 2012
The Hump isn't Always All it's Cracked Up to Be
Just as 'the hump of the week' means feck all to someone who works three weekends out of four, the hump of a piece of writing isn't always the glorious, sunset crest we believe it will be while we're struggling up the cliff face of an overwhelming idea.
As any of you who follow my blog will know, Red Wine and Words is intended as the first of a trilogy of short story collections. The sequel is, as I type, in the making, albeit temporarily on hold. I haven't been submitting short stories for submission calls lately, but spending my time writing up all those little ideas for short stories that have been hanging around since the year dot.
In early January I came across a half a4 page idea that has since blown out of all proportion. The first milestone was passing my current longest word count, which at the time was roughly 12,000 words. This I done with the Murder She Wrote theme tune playing in my head, fingers flying, words flowing.
It was after this milestone that things slowed. The next milestone was the halfway mark, which is a long way from 12,000 words. Achievement of this goal seemed far into the future, and it was rimmed with gold and diamonds.
Imagine my surprise, not a week ago, hitting 37,000 words - my believed halfway - and feeling like the cat that got the cream, only to sit down the next day and be hit with a crushing sense of doubt. Is the story really that good? Is it so very unique after all? Do my characters have as much depth as a cardboard cutout? Can I even write at all? And cue the violins, snot and tears.
A passing phase? Let's hope so. Rest assured I will plug away until it's finished; I'd rather end up with something that's fully useless than half useless. But at this point methinks a few beta readers wouldn't go astray. Come forth my beloved family members, and perform the duty of pandering to my self-confidence as you were destined.
As any of you who follow my blog will know, Red Wine and Words is intended as the first of a trilogy of short story collections. The sequel is, as I type, in the making, albeit temporarily on hold. I haven't been submitting short stories for submission calls lately, but spending my time writing up all those little ideas for short stories that have been hanging around since the year dot.
In early January I came across a half a4 page idea that has since blown out of all proportion. The first milestone was passing my current longest word count, which at the time was roughly 12,000 words. This I done with the Murder She Wrote theme tune playing in my head, fingers flying, words flowing.
It was after this milestone that things slowed. The next milestone was the halfway mark, which is a long way from 12,000 words. Achievement of this goal seemed far into the future, and it was rimmed with gold and diamonds.
Imagine my surprise, not a week ago, hitting 37,000 words - my believed halfway - and feeling like the cat that got the cream, only to sit down the next day and be hit with a crushing sense of doubt. Is the story really that good? Is it so very unique after all? Do my characters have as much depth as a cardboard cutout? Can I even write at all? And cue the violins, snot and tears.
A passing phase? Let's hope so. Rest assured I will plug away until it's finished; I'd rather end up with something that's fully useless than half useless. But at this point methinks a few beta readers wouldn't go astray. Come forth my beloved family members, and perform the duty of pandering to my self-confidence as you were destined.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Three in the Pipeline? Maybe, just maybe.
So, I know I've been fairly quiet of late, and my apologies for that. There haven't been many updates besides sales figures and the like, which, to be honest, are just plain boring!
Now, that's not to say I've been idle. Oh no. Far from it. The thing is, I've moved on to bigger projects, which take more time, which in turn leads to less news to gloat about on here. Instead of spending my time racking my poor, jaded brains to come up with an idea for a specific themed call, I've been writing up all those little ideas that have been hanging around in old notebooks, waiting patiently for my undivided writerly attention.
I had hoped that by the end of 2012 we would see a sequel to 'Red Wine and Words,' and the makings of a third. But I stumbled across an idea that began as half an A4 page of scribbles and has since exploded into it's second foolscap.
Last night I hit 26,000 words on said idea, and the story still isn't half told. So stick that in your pipes and smoke it, all you of little faith! And, for the record, the 'Red Wine and Words' sequel is still on the cards for 2012.
Anyway, this post was just to let you, my beloved fans, know that I'm still here, clicking away at the keys, slaving over a hot laptop, to bring you many future hours of entertainment.
Now, that's not to say I've been idle. Oh no. Far from it. The thing is, I've moved on to bigger projects, which take more time, which in turn leads to less news to gloat about on here. Instead of spending my time racking my poor, jaded brains to come up with an idea for a specific themed call, I've been writing up all those little ideas that have been hanging around in old notebooks, waiting patiently for my undivided writerly attention.
I had hoped that by the end of 2012 we would see a sequel to 'Red Wine and Words,' and the makings of a third. But I stumbled across an idea that began as half an A4 page of scribbles and has since exploded into it's second foolscap.
Last night I hit 26,000 words on said idea, and the story still isn't half told. So stick that in your pipes and smoke it, all you of little faith! And, for the record, the 'Red Wine and Words' sequel is still on the cards for 2012.
Anyway, this post was just to let you, my beloved fans, know that I'm still here, clicking away at the keys, slaving over a hot laptop, to bring you many future hours of entertainment.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Learning Life of a Writer
No day is a boring one these days. With every fucked up story idea that pops into my overactive little mind comes about as much weird images and information to thrall through. It's actually gotten to the point where I have started to align my laptop to protect those poor souls who may potter in behind me and unwittingly catch a glimpse of whatever new horror I'm researching.
I've sat in front of images of intestines. I've been on forums that have told me everything I need to know in order to cook up, shoot up, and anything else heroin related. With shaking fingers, I've clicked through images of the most hideous spiders you could imagine, and read all the horrible facts that go alone with the hairy little creeps.
I have downloaded lists of ship parts, horse parts, images of human (and sometimes otherwise) teeth, even a rather grotesque picture of a fractured penis... "Yes, you read me right," she says as every man in cyberspace crosses his legs.
God alone can help me if anyone official ever gets their hands on my hard drive.
I've sat in front of images of intestines. I've been on forums that have told me everything I need to know in order to cook up, shoot up, and anything else heroin related. With shaking fingers, I've clicked through images of the most hideous spiders you could imagine, and read all the horrible facts that go alone with the hairy little creeps.
I have downloaded lists of ship parts, horse parts, images of human (and sometimes otherwise) teeth, even a rather grotesque picture of a fractured penis... "Yes, you read me right," she says as every man in cyberspace crosses his legs.
God alone can help me if anyone official ever gets their hands on my hard drive.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)