O is for... Out of the Water and Captive of the Sea

Back in 2011, I held a week-long contest to celebrate the fact that I'd reached my 500th post, after nearly four years of blogging.
At the time, I sorted many of my previous posts into groups, which made for easy referencing, especially of story material.

(Also because I've never tagged my posts!)

When I celebrated reaching my 1000th post during last year's A to Z Challenge there wasn't time to sort all the posts between 2011 and 2016.

What better time than now?

I’m actually going to go over 1,000, and collate all posts to the end of 2016! And I’m going to link to every single post (except for the A to Z posts, which are mostly summarized), something I didn’t do in my original 500 compilation, or even in my 900th post compilation.

I’ve got lots of fun themes coming up for each day -- and each day will also highlight a fellow blogger or two!

Today is...

Out of the Water and Captive of the Sea






Still editing and here

A snip!
A wee snip
Latest blurb
Flashback to first scene with Baha
Home stretch
Finished!

A snip about doorways
The first photo of Santiago (presenting Mike Wolfe)
Opening scene
Turkey photos
Querying
Finished again!

12 October is Rosa’s birthday
Finished yet again!

A snip

Magdalena/Mawdlen photos and here
A wee snip
First page critique
Photos from England

Pitch (apparently agent Suzie Townsend praised my query! I’d forgotten this)

Finding a title for two novels at once (see D post!)

Starting Captive of the Sea

Finished NaNo!

Out of the Water snip
Captive of the Sea first shared snip

Another snip
Yet another snip
This is the prologue to Captive of the Sea:
I was born on King Arthur's grave.
My earliest memory is of Father telling me stories of the court of the king, who reigned over 500 years ago. Each tale started with daring knight who, peradventure, fell afoul of a lovely maiden, and fought his way through perils back into grace and favour. The stories were scarfed by the mists of time, and my father ended them all with the words, "you are a daughter of Snowdonia, of the mountain whence Arthur will rise again."
Then the battles of the kings of our time began anew, and my father packed up our household and brought us to the teeming, reeking city of London. He disappeared every day into the milling crowds, seeking his fortune, and I hardly ever saw him except for an hour or so at sunset.
The fogs and smoke choked me, and I stayed as much as I could indoors. I'd look out my window early in the morning, seeking green sloping hills and purple-headed mountain ranges. Yet I could not look long; the fog and surrounding walls shut off all farsight, and my mother's strident tones soon summoned me to my duties.
My father returned home later and later of nights, and he did not tell me stories anymore.


Today’s featured blogger is... Donna Hole!

Which stories have you been working on?
Are any set in a non-contemporary time period?

Comments

sage said…
There is something sad and universal about this story prologue-of those who leave the country for the city...
Nick Wilford said…
I love the historical voice in the prologue. Very atmospheric and engaging.
Hi Deniz - your excerpt certainly brought home the smog, the steamy and smelly streets - where life was knocked out ... the sunshine hid their opportunity ... cheers and glad to see Donna here ... Hilary

http://positiveletters.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/o-is-for-orkney-islands-adapted-breeds.html
Deniz Bevan said…
Glad you enjoyed it! I miss this story too. So much to edit... if only I could do with less sleep!

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