Kallen
08-15-2012, 10:44 AM
My story is about a struggling crime author who becomes obsessed with an ongoing murder case. Her efforts to become successful have led her deep into a dark obsession.
These are simply a few paragraphs from the story.
Coffee cup crop circles stained her work station and tattooed her draft pages. Jane's desk was encumbered with scraps of paper, newspaper cuttings, and the occasional fragment of cigarette ash. Her work station depicted her current emotion. Stressed. Her writer's 'block' had become more of an impenetrable barricade; a dark unjustified fog had a tight stranglehold on her imagination and it was unyielding. Jane's inability to create slowly made her reclusive and her only social contact came from Lucas her estranged, but still hopeful, agent. Although deemed hindering, Lucas and his sporadic phone calls where the only connections Jane had with the outside world.
"Hello!?" she spluttered scrambling for her mobile phone.
"Hey superstar! It's your favourite agent!" joked Lucas. His tone was almost patronising but his frivolous words helped gloss over most situations.
"Oh, hi there Lucas" Jane replied. She was always ready for a conversation with Lucas, in fact the only thing she had written recently was a script to deal with his questions and enquiries, but this wasn't going to be one of the phone calls she was used to.
"How's the work in progress?" questioned Lucas. Jane almost let out a worrying snigger at the enquiry. What work in progress? She hadn't released a book in almost 3 years now, and Lucas knew that. Before she had time to reply with her usual scripted answer Lucas had improvised and taken the turn from her.
"Look, Jane, I know there is something wrong here"
"Wrong? What do you mean?" Jane stuttered.
"Jane, you were my best prodedgy, you broke book sale records up and down the west coast! And ever since.."
"Don't say it Lucas!" Jane snapped.
"Ever since you and Phillip separated, you haven't been the same".
A combination of Jane's reluctance to accept realisation and Lucas's uncharacteristic flair up led to an interval in their script.
These are simply a few paragraphs from the story.
Coffee cup crop circles stained her work station and tattooed her draft pages. Jane's desk was encumbered with scraps of paper, newspaper cuttings, and the occasional fragment of cigarette ash. Her work station depicted her current emotion. Stressed. Her writer's 'block' had become more of an impenetrable barricade; a dark unjustified fog had a tight stranglehold on her imagination and it was unyielding. Jane's inability to create slowly made her reclusive and her only social contact came from Lucas her estranged, but still hopeful, agent. Although deemed hindering, Lucas and his sporadic phone calls where the only connections Jane had with the outside world.
"Hello!?" she spluttered scrambling for her mobile phone.
"Hey superstar! It's your favourite agent!" joked Lucas. His tone was almost patronising but his frivolous words helped gloss over most situations.
"Oh, hi there Lucas" Jane replied. She was always ready for a conversation with Lucas, in fact the only thing she had written recently was a script to deal with his questions and enquiries, but this wasn't going to be one of the phone calls she was used to.
"How's the work in progress?" questioned Lucas. Jane almost let out a worrying snigger at the enquiry. What work in progress? She hadn't released a book in almost 3 years now, and Lucas knew that. Before she had time to reply with her usual scripted answer Lucas had improvised and taken the turn from her.
"Look, Jane, I know there is something wrong here"
"Wrong? What do you mean?" Jane stuttered.
"Jane, you were my best prodedgy, you broke book sale records up and down the west coast! And ever since.."
"Don't say it Lucas!" Jane snapped.
"Ever since you and Phillip separated, you haven't been the same".
A combination of Jane's reluctance to accept realisation and Lucas's uncharacteristic flair up led to an interval in their script.