How long before pen hits paper…

….or fingers tap on keys?

I have been thinking of at least 2 ideas for novels for the last 12 or 13 years, yet I still haven’t come close to getting started.

I can churn out blogs, short stories, articles & one line fiction until the cows come home, yet, I just can’t seem to find the time or place to transfer my thoughts to paper (or to the iPad as it were).

I hope that one day soon I get it together & construct the ideas so that I can one day build the book(s).

#livetowrite #writetolive´╗┐

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One Line Horror: The hunted

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I could feel myself sinking away, my breath prominent in the cold crispy night air, though his was even more prominent as he snorted and grunted while he tore pieces of meat from my exhausted body that failed to outrun this beast.

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Sentence of Suspense: The getaway

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I ran like I’d never ran before, my legs were like jelly and my heart thumped rapidly inside my rib cage while I dodged the gun shots and leapt across the railway track, the sound of the train thundering past with it’s honking horn was deafening and terrifying, but had at least bought me some time to try and out run the police, for now.

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Sentence of Suspense: The deposit

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All I had gone in to do was deposit a cheque for mum, it all happened so quickly, one minute I was in the que, the next I’m kissing the floor tiles of the bank with the rest of the unfortunate customers, with a shotgun barrel in my neck taking orders from six men in clown masks.

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Ten Sentence Fiction: The Vacancy

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Harold squinted out of the windscreen while hunched over the steering wheel. The window wipers whipped back and fourth, hopelessy battling at the monsoon that fell from the night sky. He stopped the car outside the hotel. It was a dreary building, 3 stories built of red brick and timber cladding, sat sad and alone on perhaps an acre of overgrown, unloved land. A fluorescent sign flickered from a window on the ground floor, behind a yellowing, dead fly infested net curtain. The welcoming words of ‘Come on in, we have Vaccancies’ were lost and wasted against the uninviting building and surroundings.
The sound of the rain battering onto the roof of his car was almost deafening, he watched as rain water flowed from the roof of the old hotel and overflowed onto the entranceway due to clogged and unmaintained guttering. He grabbed his overnight bag from the passenger seat, opened the door and contemplated making a run for it.
“Well, here goes nothing”, he said as he stepped out into storm. His head exploded from the gunshot and his body fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, as the local Sheriff grinned and put his gun back into its holster.

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(c) Copyright 2014 AGS

One Line Horror: The Bus Driver

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All 15 passengers clung to their seats and screamed for dear life as the bus thundered through the pitch black and derelict road while the engine roared and everything rattled, heads jerked on necks as the bus suddenly hauled to a stop and the crazed driver slowly turned round with a menacing grin and whispered, “last stop!”

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