“But he never leaves his room, other than for meals and to go to school, it’s just not healthy. He’s a growing boy, he needs to get outside, run about, get muddy with other boys.” “Does he look unhealthy to you?” “Well, no, but…” “Have you ever actually been into his room?” “Certainly not, I …
Ingrid broke the spell between them. “While I’m glad these two are more-or-less whole, we still have damage to deal with. We’re going to need supplies, and soon. Who do we send to town? And how do we pay for the goods we’re going to need?” Sarah stood. “Questions for tomorrow, not tonight, and for …
Theo wound up his enthusiastic description of his employer with the emphatic, “He is a veritable prince among men.” Silence. And not of the awed variety. Eventually, one of the older men at the table in the corner said. “You’re not from round here are ya.” Theo’s face – never good at hiding his thoughts …
For those who've read Sackcloth and Sky, a scene from Zain's point of view... The boy put the bowl on Zain's desk, yet another time-wasting exercise from the kitchen. He had more important business than eating unappetising little snacks. He breathed in, a memory rose. One of the gruel Lyra would bring him during those …
Myrah hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on her brother’s marriage proposal, she’d been snipping flowers for the vase in Mother’s sitting room and found some lovely late-blooming roses behind the bower. She was bent over, coaxing a particularly reclusive flower from behind its thorny guards when voices had hit her from the raised floor of the …
I had things to do today, nothing earth shattering, just the weekly security report from Sir Scatterscurry, and jam-making. Of course I didn’t need a mouse with a sword and an over-developed sense of chivalry guarding my home, but his primary domain was the potting shed, and he did a lovely job of keeping my …
“Dad, Dad, Dad! What’s brown and sticky?” Damian wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. “I don’t know, what?” “A stick!” Emily flopped into the armchair, giggling at her own joke. That actually a pretty good one, definitely better than yesterday’s. He chuckled. “Nice, I’ll have to remember that, tell the guys at work.” …
The dim, golden warmth of the bath house was almost painful after their trek. Sarah shooed them towards the mid-heat tubs. “Strip and in.” Evan was tending the fire. He made a point of turning his back to them and focusing on feeding wood to the flames. Eleanor was grateful for the courtesy but still …
It was all well and good to have a home up the hill. The views were lovely and there was none of the worry about flooding the valley people had, but did the damn hill have to be so steep? Justine re-gripped the shopping bags and kept going. “Alright then?” Ergh, not young Marcus McShea. …
An exercise from Ursula Le Guin’s Steering the Craft book – write one piece with sentences of seven or fewer words, then one that's all one sentence... Exercise 3a – Short Octavia hung back, scared. She didn’t want to go in there. It was dangerous, everyone said so. Why did Roz have to dare them? …
The DNA of Stories 