Friday, 27 August 2010

The Love Scene

Gently he leaned into her,
his soft lips brushing hers.

Lucy stared up into Ben's honey coloured eyes.  Would he ever get around to kissing her?  She closed her eyes, breathed deeply and silently counted to five.

Wait...thats not how I wanted to start my opening line. Something a little more upbeat, please!

Lucy gazed into those honey coloured eyes.  If he didn't kiss her soon she would take matters into her own hands.  Sliding her fingers up his neck, she wound them into his hair.  Ben's soft lips descended upon her own.  Finally, she thought.  Thank God, I wore matching underwear...

No...not quite right.

When it comes to writing 'the' love scene for your main character, do you ever find yourself re-writing, repositioning, re-directing?  I've been working on the main love scene for a couple of days now.  It's a slow process, sometimes you can just knock one out; other days you just need more props.  Whether for the characters benefit or myself - I find myself lighting a few candles, popping on some background music, throwing open the window.

Checklist for 'the' love in scene - take #1
Background music
Sexy man
Foxy lady
Large sofa
Enormous rug
Soft lighting...Oh wait I think we've covered that, maybe lets go for martinis
Food, is there food? Maybe just strawberries...
Eyebrow raises....check
Sizzling chemistry...double check
Biting lower lip...check

Wait...shall we just take it outside...the leafy woods? Or maybe the beach?  I suspect my characters may abscond the scene at this rate, or worse toss the hot candle at me.  Hurry along dear writer, they call out.  Right - back inside folks, the weathers not so great for the outdoors today.

Phew! Okay action, fingertips at the ready...set go! Write as madly as possible, and keep at it until something beautiful is hammered out.  Please tell me, do you need props when writing your love scenes?  And how often do you start that opening line?

A/N: Photocredits purchased via fotosearch

Monday, 23 August 2010

Post Travelling Pinks

Pink Frangipani, Singapore
How do you do it?  You know, come down off that cloud of contented holiday bliss and fall back into real life.  I'm calling this state of mind the Post Travelling Pinks as I'm actually feeling happy, just...well distracted.  After almost a month away it's a little hard getting back to reality.  What do you mean no more afternoon naps? No more frivolous spa appointments, spicy satays, creamy doughnuts and absolutely no more martinis'.  Time to unpack the steamer trunk dear lady.

I am in the throes of finishing the final chapters of my main WIP and its been interesting.  Whilst on holiday my routine was pretty much writing early morning or in the that I'm back in London the distractions have multiplied three-fold.  Maybe subconsciously it's the fact that final chapters mean the end of a story?  I know I'll get it finished soon though but for now I just want to savour the fresh memories of my trip.  The best part of travelling are all the experiences, smells, sights and people you encounter - more plotlines, more characters for your stories right?  Absolutely.

What's that?  A final travel montage? Of course dear Ladies and Gents.  Here it is - enjoy!

Lucky Cat, Singapore

Durian...the most smelliest fruit in the world!

Scribe Jnr tests out the Chilli Crab aka 'The Before Shot.'
Scribe Snr tastes Chilli Crab aka 'The After shot.'

Finest dining in town at La Pau Sat! Yum is all I'm saying.

Best building in town, Marina Bay Sands
My favourite, Lychee Martini
How about you? Got the Post Travelling Pinks? Are you getting back into the swing of things?

A/N:  Photos courtesy of yours truly.  
Snaps of last few days in Singapore en route home.

Friday, 20 August 2010

Guess That Character! Reveal Day - Introducing Miss Della

Wow!  Thank you to everyone for their wonderful guesses at Della's character.  Yesterday I had great fun reading as many snippets as possible, I hope you did too. 

And now part two of Guess That Character is that we reveal a picture and confirm who had the closest guess.  Cue the trumpet and bring out the sparkly dust!  Ladies and Gents, I give you the lovely Miss Della!

Della is almost twenty, and lives in the early 1900's.  Her family are plantation owners in the South Seas.   Della is fiesty, independent and unruly at times but a true beauty with a big heart!  Her long brown hair is usually pulled up into a bun and her sea-green eyes capture many a suitors heart.  She is sent back to England to keep her Grandmamma company for a short period of time after her Grandfathers death.  During her stay, she is drawn to a mysterious englishman whom she meets in a park one evening.

There were so many great guesses, I think most of you guessed Della's hair colour and eyes, and quite a few picked up that it's a period romance.  Of all the guesses - I think Francine nailed her character!  

Francine:  "I'm guessing this is a slightly dated piece(breeches) so on that premise: she's athletic yet full of figure, long brunette tresses, turquoise blue eyes edged deeper blue, wild of spirit, unruly manners at times, and a bit of a madam when she feels so inclined!"

A/N: Thank you all so much for the lovely comments!  And thank you to our lovely Jen for organising such a great blogfest.  I am still catching up on all the entries.  Photos credit - Photobucket. 

Della - A Brief Interlude ' © 2010 T.Loto. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, 19 August 2010

Guess That Character!

Well, this year is certainly one of firsts - a virgin at a polo match and now my first, ahem - blogfest.

Did I mention I was a virgin blogger before April this year?  Right enough of the frivolous banter, -bloomers, chastity belts and stockings are coming off.

Our dear friend Jen at Unedited has thrown down the lace gloves and I've taken up the challenge.  I'm sharing an excerpt about one of my main characters, and the exciting part is everyone gets guess what she looks like.  And I share a picture of her tomorrow - the big reveal.

Here's a snippet from one of my WIP short stories 'Della - A Brief Interlude.'  


Della pulled on her riding breeches, it was early dawn but she could no longer lie still in this four-poster tomb of a bed.  She tucked in her nightshirt, wrapping her arms in her favourite battered cashmere vest and hopped across the cold wood floors to the dark armoire where her moth-eaten riding jacket hung.  Holy Mary, Mother of all things sweet.... this place was like the crypt three floors below where her Grandfather lay in eternal rest.  The embers in the marble fireplace had long since turned cold.  Grandmamma was of the old school; no money was spent heating the entire house. She was eighty-eight years old and still slept with her window open, even when the snow fell.  Good old Grandmamma.  

Della crept down the passageway towards the stables in her stocking feet; rattling pans and loud mumbling could be heard from the kitchen.  She could easily sneak by Cook without being noticed.  At last she reached the entrance hall where an assortment of coats hung on dusty hooks and discarded boots lay under the small benches.  Her shiny riding boots stood to attention in their trees -waiting for her to free them.  She pushed open the heavy door, cursing softly as the crisp morning air rushed into the house behind her.  Why the hell was this country so cold?

As she rounded the corner of the stables, there was a familiar whining and stamping against the wooden doors before the clip-clop of hooves followed.  Charlie the old blacksmith was pulling her favourite steed outside.  He greeted her with a tip of his cap, his old arthritic fingers shaking.

"Good morning Miss Della.  Off for the usual then?"
"Yes."  She replied eagerly.  "Is Bess ready?"
"Saddled and waiting, Miss."  He bought her shiny black mare to a standstill next to the small steps waiting for Della to a lady.  Della ignored the steps, grasped the top of the nearby fence and hoisted herself onto the rails, carefully balancing on one foot whilst she slid herself sideways into the saddle.   Charlie raised his eyebrows, his crinkly crows feet giving away his amusement but he remained silent all the same.  She smiled at him, raising her finger to her lips.  "Don't tell Grandmama." He snorted gruffly, and as she turned Bess away from the stables he called out. "Miss Della.  Mind the southern boundaries, -there's a hunting party out today.  The neighbours gamekeepers might be about." Della flung her head back with a brief nod, waving her crop as she nudged gently the underside of Bess's belly.  "Time to ride, sweetheart.'

She would ride for a few hours to wash away the cobwebs that surrounded her aching body and mind.  How she missed her fathers plantation, the wide open spaces and the beach where she rode each morning. Why had he sent her away to such a cold land called England?  It was grey and dull like an old sailors dirty overcoat.  Blue skies, and golden beaches where the sand slipped under your bare feet -that is where I belong she thought wistfully.


And now, can you tell me please -what does Della look like?


A/N: Della - A Brief Interlude ' © 2010 T.Loto. All Rights Reserved

Friday, 13 August 2010

Travel log: Port Douglas

Perfect sunshine in a wintry Port Douglas
Week three of travels has taken us back across the Tasman sea to Northern Queensland in Australia.  The final leg of our holiday has crept up on us like the misty fog I spied climbing stealthlike...up and over nearby mountains this morning.  My first forty-eight hours in Port Douglas included stories about pythons who keep the local cat population in check, admiring braham cattle in the mountains, and swimming in the tropical rain.  The weather does not hinder you in this town.  Its winter but we went snorkelling today - quite normal here. 

I am also astonished but happy to note that it's possible to survive with one suitcase and one carry-on luggage for this long a period.  I confess to adding two pairs of shoes to the suitcase and a few trinkets, however this lady is doing remarkably well.  Those ' Exit through the gift shop' sightseeing events can be quite treacherous but if you just trot straight through - eyes front, no sideward glances or peeking ladies!  You can outsmart those impulse buys.  At least that's worked thus how to avoid buying art whilst overseas...anyone?  My mantra as I walk into the local galleries here. "You do not need one, you do not, you, how long will it take to ship one of those back?"  

A/N:  Photo courtesy of yours truly.  A lovely sparkly sunset this afternoon.  I am also very happy to report that I have been able to maintain my writing throughout the travels!  Still cheering for Team WIP!

Wednesday, 4 August 2010

Travel log: New Zealand - A Storytellers Paradise

A Maori Guardian in the woods

It's week two of travelling for the Lady Doth Scribe blog and I am very happy to report the jetlag has finally subsided.  Fun times with family and friends has meant late nights and somewhere between last week and today, the haze has disappeared.  

This week I am in New Zealand, a country with panaromic postcard views, rugged mountain ranges and coastlines; I grew up here but its only during return journey's that I can really appreciate the natural beauty of these islands.  During a daytrip to the volcanic region of Rotorua in the North Island of New Zealand, I stumbled through misty thermal springs, gaped in awe at feisty geysers and the warped moon-like terrain.  At one point, the mist was so thick I could barely see and I felt a chill on the back of my neck - my imagination took hold as I suddenly found myself alone on a hillside.  As I passed the bubbling mudpools and walked through the woods where carved statues of Maori Guardians stood watch amongst the trees, half hidden from view - I realised what a paradise this place is for storytellers. Listening to local legends in these incredible surroundings - what more could a writer ask for?

NZ Native Ferns and Flax

Bubbling Mud Pools

The Pohutu Geyser, Rotorua, New Zealand

A/N: Photos courtesy yours truly. 
Snapped during NZ trip this week.