So it’s that time again. Book number three has been sent out into the big wide world, leaving me no choice but to get on with book number four whilst I await news.
It’s always fun starting a new project – putting together the character profiles, outlining the plot line and for those of us who really like to be organised, developing a more detailed chapter breakdown. Of course, as we steel ourselves to begin the manuscript we then have the dreaded blank page to overcome – those opening lines more often than not taking a lot of thought in their own right.
That said, I’m pleased to say I’ve achieved all of the above and thought I’d share with you the opening of my latest work in progress, currently entitled The French Escape.
Of course, this is simply a first draft and I have a long way to go and no doubt numerous changes to make before I get the honour of writing The End.
But in the meantime, here goes…
Happy reading and feel free to let me know what you think x
Working Title – The French Escape
A romantic comedy By Suzie Tullett
In two hundred metres cross the roundabout, third exit.
Flick let out a heavy sigh, wishing she could just throw the satnav out of the car window. After hours of driving she was sick of listening to it, its voice having long gone from politely monotone to distinctly patronizing. Despite the temptation, she resisted. With only an address to go off and no idea how to get there, she needed all the help she could get and easing her foot onto the brake, she slowed the car ready to do as she was told.
Cross the roundabout, third exit.
Turning the wheel, she glanced at her mum snoozing in the passenger seat. “A fine travel companion you turned out to be,” she said. A rhythmic, guttural sound emanated from the woman’s gaping mouth. Flick almost laughed at the sight. “Attractive.” She shook her head, intent on teasing her mum about it later. Not that her mother would ever admit to snoring. Purring maybe, snoring definitely not.
She returned her attention to the road ahead, still not sure why she’d actually agreed to this. Then again, she hadn’t really had a choice in the matter. Her mum always did have a knack of persuading people round to her way of thinking. And when all else failed she wasn’t beyond simply putting her foot down. A tactic she’d resorted to in this instance.
“It’ll be an adventure,” her mum had said, ignoring Flick’s protests to the contrary. “Which is just what you need after everything you’ve been through.”
Flick scoffed. What she needed was to be back in the safe confines of home. The last few months had provided her with just about all the excitement she could take, thank you very much, and not in a good way. Besides, even if she had been happy to be here, could a mother/daughter trip to France really be described as adventurous? Taking in the serenity of the surrounding Brittany countryside, with nothing but chocolate box cottages, green fields and blue skies as far as the eye could see, Flick could argue not.
In two hundred metres, keep right.
As she continued to follow the satnav’s instructions, Flick’s car began to groan. She sympathised. No doubt it felt as eager to reach their journey’s end as she, thanks to all the weight it was carrying. Again courtesy of her mother who’d insisted they pack everything from a pair of sleeping bags, to their Sunday best and everything in between. Leaving Flick no choice but to wonder what on earth this French escape of theirs entailed. Naturally, she’d enquired. But whilst, much to her relief, her mother confirmed they wouldn’t, in fact, be camping regardless of how things looked, no other clue had been forthcoming. Flick glanced at her mum once more, recalling how according to Sleeping Beauty here, the element of surprise only added to the adventure.