The Skies Are Lighted With Lamps #8 (A part of my novel)

With the cars out of sight and her husband gone, Shelly just stood there, her eyes became a torrent.  Encircled by her children and a spot on the stairs were her husband had just occupied, the smell of freshly mowed grass mixed with manure filled the air.  A reminder courtesy the car wheels which had just pull out from the front yard.

 

Copyright © 2017 David Alexian

All rights reserved.

 

The Skies Are Lighted With Lamps #5 (A part of my novel)

So with the exception of the occasional letters Shelly wrote him, and post cards the children made by hand to send him; this was the only contact he had with them.

And now, he sat at the table, a stranger in their lives.

 

Copyright © 2017 David Alexian

All rights reserved.

The Skies Are Lighted With Lamps #3 (A part of my novel)

Weddings are golden moments.  They bring joy, an uneasy anticipation by all involved.  On the other hand, funerals are the total opposite.  Screeching groans; moans from a beaten weary crowd.  Seeking answers and bellowing the lost of a friend.   Tonight it was a cross between the two; a wedding and a funeral.  It was the return of Shelly’s husband Deo Narine, to not only his family but to the village. ……….

 

Copyright © 2017 David Alexian

All rights reserved.

The Skies Are Lighted With Lamps #2 (A part of my novel)

It was a bit early in the evening.  Much earlier than when the family had their evening meal, but their they were, sitting, ready.  The dazzling light from the setting sun had just vanished behind the hill.  There was a gleam of orange that remained in the sky for a little while.  Maybe for about ten or fifteen minutes this spectacle lingered.  As the night fully took control of the skies it signaled a time for Kiskadee to recharge.  There were no stars to see tonight, the skies seemed lonely; even the orange streak was eventually gone. …………

 

Copyright © 2017 David Alexian

All rights reserved.

The Skies Are Lighted With Lamps #1 (A part of my novel)

Shelly Narine, stepped across the kitchen floor.  The floor boards hissed.  The rubber slippers she wore dragged against it, every time her heels rose.  It made a solemn rhythm.  She looked at her husband and four children. Screaming in her mind was how quiet everyone was.  She could not remember the last time the girls were around each other without bickering taking place.  Especially during dinnertime.  Shelly felt this was always the worst time when they were together.  Voices clamored for various parts of the meal.  If one chicken was on the menu a particular night, it best has more than two legs and two breasts.  And as for the loaf of bread, more than two ends. …………………..

 

Copyright © 2017 David Alexian

All rights reserved.

Following a character

The more I write about a character (follow them and ask them questions), the more they reveal themselves to me. I have this character called Deo in one of my stories, and thought I knew him well, but I am discovering this man is more mysterious than I thought. He has a story to tell; something he is hiding.

I think I will ask him what it is. Or hope he tells me, at least if he considers me his friend. I just hope I could deal with whatever he reveals.

7 Tips to Improve Your Writing!

I thought this was quite good information.  I sometime make mistakes when writing, by doing the things the presenter says not to do.  Maybe you have already corrected these mistakes in your writing.  If not, have a look and see how much you can learn from her.