Since the last time I wrote, like I said I have started (another) new story. As it stands I'm almost 110 pages and 25,000 words in, so about a quarter of the way. This is the furthest I've ever actually got with a story before, usually I write about 20 pages then stick it into my "attempts" pile because I've had a better idea for another story. But no, I've stuck with this one so hopefully I'll be able to finish it.
One of my characters has been a little bit influenced by my ultimate teenage crush. To understand the intensity of this crush I feel I must explain a little. He is "famous" so to speak. I first saw him in Holby City (for those who don't know, it's a medical drama and one that I was absolutely obsessed with from I was about 13) and he played a doctor. I was actually in love with him. I watched every single episode he was in and I cried my little heart out when he was killed off. Usually my crushes come and go but this one has remained and I will not rest until I have married him. His name is Noah Huntley and he is my future husband. He is also in the very beginning of the film Your Highness (hilarious film by the way) and I also hear on the grapevine that he is currently filming Snow White and the Huntsman with Kristen "I'm so rich and famous but I'm still a miserable bitch" Stewart of Twilight fame. I even managed to find a new episode of Midsomer Murders from a couple of weeks ago with him in as well as trawling Youtube for old Holby City episodes the he was in, including the one where he was cruelly killed in a bizarre scaffolding incident and yes, I did cry all over again. The whole thing has made me remember the terrible fact that the personal signed photo that he sent me all those years ago has been lost in transit during my many moves. Just heartbreaking.
This is the very man I will marry. Becki & Noah 4eva...
Anyway, yes. There was a point to all of this. So, one of my characters, who happens to be my favourite of the story, is based (loosely) on the character Noah played in Holby City. It wasn't originally but as I've written more, he has just popped into my head hence the re-living of my teenage years of lust for Mr Huntley. But the book (and its characters) are all coming along well and when it is finished, and I will finish it I promise, I'm thinking of getting it published as an e-book on Amazon. It would only go for about 75p a copy but if I promoted it on Facebook, Twitter, my website and on here, someone might buy it and then technically I will be a published author and publishing houses have no excuse to turn me down. Well, they can still turn me down but not for being an unpublished author.
I shall stick in my prologue anyhow. I don't want to give too much away. Well actually, I don't want to give anything away and the prologue is short and pretty vague as to the storyline so here it is for your reading enjoyment. Or not if you think it's crap.
It’s funny how we never really live our lives until tragedy strikes and reminds us that we’re all living on borrowed time. I am guilty of it. We all are. Not living to our full potential, always assuming there will be tomorrow. It’s not until you or someone you love comes close to death that we stand up, re-evaluate and appreciate how fragile life is. People diagnosed with terminal illness battle to live each day as if it is their last because there is every chance it might be. A car crash injures a loved one and once they’ve been patched up and sent home, they vow never to take their life for granted again having cheated death and by a miracle, survived. It is a bittersweet moment, when good comes from sadness. Someone may have left this world behind but often, from their death, blooms one, two, maybe a dozen people who begin to take in everything around them; the sounds; the smells. Who never forget to tell their family and friends how much they are loved. Who wake up every morning ready to face the world head on and appreciate that they are alive, breathing and are able to seize the day and take everything they can from it.
I was not one of those people.