An Interlude Involving A Writer’s Torment

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So the time has come.

What are you talking about???

That post last week about men writing women characters

Yehhh….Wasn’t bad, I suppose

And you remember the last paragraph?

Ummm….

I thought you’d say that! I will remind you. You were going to post up a part of this novel of ours to demonstrate……

Yes! But it needs work!

This is not the Great Pyramid of Giza. It is about 1,100 words. Send it now.20151207_192255

I’ve not finished, yet. And I have Facebook things to do.

You have posted your polemic, you have read the ones which need reading, and this also will go up on Facebook, and will no doubt make more sense than most of what you post.

But there’s that Amazon forum!

Yes I know and whereas there are worthy people there, you have a knack of exchanging views with those whose genetic base is linked to brick walls. It is a pointless exercise.

But I have that Amazon book review to do

Oh please! The last time you tried that one you were on your hands and knees amongst your graphic library trying to find a book that hadn’t been reviewed to death already…..Now get on with the posting.

But it’s not ready I tell you! The syntax is wrong!

Says the one who utters the basest profanities at Word when Verb Confusion, Reflex Pronoun or Fragment are mentioned.

But people might laugh at me.

I would consider that an improvement over no one reading anything of it at all

But I….But I have other….things to do!

Ah me! I did not want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice…..I release the characters!!!

NO! Stop shoving! Don’t you lot dare move to the front of my head! Leave my hands alone!….Stop it supine hand!…..

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Must fight this…must appeal…..Oh Great God of Procrastination, speed to your servants aid! (What do you mean, acolyte! That he’ll be there in a day or two once he’s sorted out what things need to be sorted out?)…..Oh Dark Lord of Distraction… (eh? He would help but he’s watching cartoons?)……..Dear Merciful Meekness, please (she’s doesn’t want to come out???..Oh for frib’s sake!!)…..Won’t someone help me!..Can’t fight the characters….they have my hand!…Argh! NO! Not The Send Button……Noooooooo!

Pathetic isn’t it??

And then came the extract ……

Intro: This is the meeting of three women whose volatile companionship and motivations will be a central factor in the novel. Trelli and Ferdelene’s characters and motivation have already been established. Beritt has been mentioned but only as one of a group of soldiers. This event takes place in the aftermath of an attack by pirates upon a small port town. Beritt as a ‘medic’ has rushed towards the two others following a detonation, there is a second detonation……        

 

Beritt hurt, so she supposed she must still be alive. Was that pain minor or something nasty just pretending to be small until the shock wore off?  Initially she was afraid to try to move in case she found she couldn’t, this was when training and discipline forced their twin demands upon her; work trooper! Yes, feet and toes were moving. Encouraged she drew up her legs, right knee hurt, but only through that knock against a stone when falling down. Fingers lessened their fierce grip on her hair, but she couldn’t see them! The stab of panic jolted her to the fact this was because her eyes were still squeezed tight shut and if she tried they just might open open. And joy! They did!! So for an interlude she gazed upon her hands if new to her. Everything intact and wiggled. And even better she could sit up and look about.

Although the view was not encouraging; light brown stone dust still drifted mixing with the billows of dark hues from burning buildings, distant knots of running figures against a backdrop of sounds of collapsing and anguish.

“Oh poor little town, The Fifth Hell’s come visiting” realising her voice was a currently a croak, she took a small draught from her canteen and marvelled at how much better a mouthful of water could make you feel.

Beritt was not much schooled in mortars and their waywardness, but she supposed their missiles must have fallen short on the other side of the already damaged wall and so had made the impacts seeem a lot more impressive than they had been. Time to be about duty now. Those two figures; one still, the other quivering in sobs beneath a ragged dress.

As she rose, she encountered the narrow eyed wariness of a fox-faced character no longer still, now also in the business of standing up, right hand gripped upon a cutlass which was being slowly being pointed directly at Beritt, who hoped that was just a gesture of shock and confusion. They licked their sneering lips.

“What’s your business?”

Blaggatinian accents; Beritt felt they always made the speaker appear as if they wanted a fight, whatever you said in reply; particularly the girls, especially dusty and shaken ones. She resolved though to be on her best healer’s empathetic behaviour even if her knee hurt like scraith.

“Medician Beritt of the Life Regiment of the Imperial. Are you hurt? Can I help?”

The stance relaxed, although the wariness irksomely slackened in contempt.

“Oh a pert an’ pretty soldier- healer. I thought you was too tight an’ short on snivelling for Mummy for a local boy. Well, I’m alright, an’ don’t need your help. Ferdelene’s the name. I serve The Lord God Holubane in assisting Custodian Aragas, I do. I’ve been slicing up pirates an’ keeping this possible witch under surveillance,” she nudged the nearby quivering form.

What Beritt had judged to be a badly shaken and possibly injured woman suddenly conducted her own upwards jolt. Although the dust thick face bore trails of the progress of tears and snot, a sudden fierce blaze of angry eyes announced fear was not the only emotion here. One hand clutching a book in a way which Beritt compared with the other one’s cutlass act

“I am not,” Trelli yelled “A witch, or even a whychie! I am a victim of circumstances which no one is going to explain to me, even if I was to sit here and scream and scream myself hoarse…which I am very likely to do!!”

Beritt had often dealt with hystericals so she place a hand gently on Trelli’s shoulder.

“Imperial forces are here,” she began

“Oh I’m rescued!” Trelli cried and flung her arms about Beritt “It’s all so terrible and that blaggatinian is being horrid to me!!”

“You watch her army-girl. Look how she don’t let go of that book of hers!”

Beritt gently untangled Trelli from her neck to aid ease of breath, the medician then firmly held up her index fingers and tried to sound as if she were a sergeant.

“Now let’s all get calm,” she turned to Trelli “Your name please,”

“Trelli,” came the snuffled reply.

“Thank you. Trelli, if folk think you are important, then it’s my duty to get you to the Life Regiment. Don’t look alarmed. We only want to find out what this….errr….thing is that makes you important. I’m sure it’s all Three Hells of Confusion to you because it is to me. Yes we’re lost, but trying to find anyone in a town on fire is next to impossible. There’s a rallying point for my file, in case this sort of thing happened. We’ll head there. It’s outside of the town,”

Ferdelene leant into Beritt’s face.

“I’m responsible to a Custodian. Not to any army lot!”

Beritt’s face froze into a stern expression, on she hoped being vaguely similar to Sergeant Erzns’ when he was ordering troopers to do something no one right in the head would only have nightmares about.

“And in my experience wherever there’s The Regiment and a Custodian in proximity, then they are sure meet up on account of looking for the same damn thing! And your,” she placed very heavy evidence on that last word “Custodian can explain why he and you were observed consorting and working with parties suspected as prejudicial to the stability of the realm,”

Ferdelene rocked back a little.

“You been watching us?”

Beritt could not resist a brief wallow in triumphalism

“All the time holy-girl. Even when you were riding into town and chattering verses like you’d been given preaching time at a temple. Welcome to the grown-ups games,”

That done Beritt made to move off and smiled at Trelli.

Who in response managed one of her own.

“I trust you,” she said, not really sure if she did, but she liked this one better than Ferdelene anyway, so she stood in beside Beritt; perhaps she could find the courage to tell this soldier about the peculiar dreams and the very physical visitation by someone out of the past.

Meanwhile Ferdelene was determined to have a last word, though mostly to herself.

“Fribbin’ army! All buttons and brass bits!”

Not that it had any sense, but even so it was the last….few words

And then she loped off after the other two.  

 

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8 thoughts on “An Interlude Involving A Writer’s Torment

  1. I love this!!! Your humor weaves through everything you write, and makes me smile with delight. And your characters, however briefly met here, intrigue me; such a wonderful clash and mix of personalities that I want to follow them, just to see how they get on. Well done, Sir, well done!

    Liked by 1 person

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