writerly rants, reviews, and occasionally geeky stuff
I was almost not going to post anything with regards to our friend Flora this month, because I didn’t meet my goal of finishing a whole chapter. But at the encouragement of a dear friend and beta-reader, I figured I’d share the fragment of Chapter Three that I did manage to write…. 🙂
(This has not yet appeared on Lisa’s site – I’ll add it when the chapter is complete – so this is an Allison the Writer exclusive!) Continue reading “Flora Dennis, Chapter Three fragment”
Gee, that’s one long title….
Well, anyway, I’m pleased to announce that the next part of Flora Dennis and the Island of Two Eyes is out now!
Excerpt:
Lord Daniel Valjean-Allerdyce was not only an Englishman, but, as his hyphenated name suggested, of French descent. When we were escorted to his quarters by the guest house’s manager, Valjean-Allerdyce sat in a simple wooden chair, wearing an elegant velvet smoking jacket and puffing heavily on a pipe he held in a strong, weathered hand. The finery of his ensemble contrasted greatly with the room’s furnishings, but he seemed almost oblivious to the fact. Judging by his silvery hair and dark, lined features, he appeared to be about sixty years old.
The manager, a small, balding man who sweated uncomfortably in his cheaply tailored suit and wire-rimmed glasses, introduced us hastily before creeping back to his station.
Valjean-Allerdyce rose from his seat, standing well over six feet. His steel-grey eyes examined us critically, as though he was looking for the most subtlest of imperfections within us. Self-consciously, I felt inclined to button my cardigan a little higher to hide my rumpled blouse. When his eyes settled upon the eldest of our party, Miss Anna Montvale, something in his expression changed almost imperceptibly. When he spoke, it was only to her.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Montvale,” he said with a slightly patronizing tone to his voice. “What, may I ask, brings you to my lodgings … and this infernal country?”
Read the rest at the Poets Cove!
The first installment of Flora Dennis and the Island of Two Eyes is out now, at Poets Cove!
Here’s an excerpt (just be forewarned, my “voice” for this story is shamelessly wordy):
Uncle Petrie’s house was decorated with the spoils of his many travels: feline statuettes from Egypt, a gold mask from Genghis Khan’s fabled lost city, African tribal drums, a fragile paper fan from Japan…. Name a place, he’s been there, and usually has a gripping story to go with it.
I was used to his long leaves of absence, oftentimes during those weeks I was to be home from school, but, as my guardian until I turn twenty-one (in a good seven years, mind you), he rarely disappeared without a written explanation.
Which was why I was perturbed to find the house devoid of his presence when I arrived at the start of the summer holiday.
I intend for this to be a monthly serial, but knowing my tendency to fall into horrible writer’s block, we’ll just have to wait and see. 😉
Two friends from the Young Writers Society are collaborating with me on an X-Men fanfiction. I’m tentatively calling the story X-23, because the story centers around this character.
In case you’re wondering who this X-23 is, she’s essentially a female clone of Wolverine (don’t ask me how that’s even possible) who was created by the villainous HYDRA organization (you may remember them from Captain America: The First Avenger). For more information about her, I would suggest watching this episode if X-Men: Evolution, which introduced X-23 to the Marvel universe. (There do exist subsequent comic books about her, but I have been told they’re absolutely not for prudes. So yeah, don’t read them.) She also appeared briefly in the Wolverine and the X-Men cartoon in a slightly different setting with room for further development, but the show only lasted one season and her storyline kind of fell through the cracks.
In my opinion, X-23 didn’t have all that many opportunities to let her awesomeness shine across all mediums. Twenty minutes of fast-paced animation just doesn’t cut it, and I don’t think it’s fair to kids (and prudes) to continue X-23’s adventures in mature comic books. So my friends and I decided to work on a story of our own which reintroduces X-23 in a more age-appropriate setting. Sure, there’s a healthy dose of action and violence, but our characters never “cuss” or otherwise act beneath their dignity. In short, our story is probably as clean as you can get when it comes to serious superhero stories.
And so, without further ado, I present an excerpt of our story:
Prologue
I saw the flames as they licked the tops of the tallest trees, destroying not only the dry, autumn leaves, but the creatures that called the forest their home. I saw the wreckage on the highway, the crumpled heaps of five cars and an eighteen-wheeler truck.
My mother’s body was being wheeled away from the scene on a stretcher by two paramedics, a thin sheet covering her from head to toe. Her bloodied arm dangled limply off the side, exposed; somehow, the charm bracelet she’d worn for as long as I could remember had survived, though she would not.
The orange blanket around my shoulders did nothing to quell the chill going through my body. It wasn’t just the shock of the crash. It wasn’t the throbbing pain in my shattered leg. It wasn’t the droning of the tactless police officer to my right as he asked me questions I couldn’t answer.
I’d seen this exact event before, in a dream. If only I could have done something to stop it from happening.
One
His name was Abraham. Abraham Smith, to be exact. Irony of all ironies, his house was full of (intact) graven images. Everything from smiling Buddhist figurines to little statues that looked vaguely like Hello Kitty took up space on shelves, tables, window sills, and armrests.
“I collect and sell these things, y’see,” he explained awkwardly as I locked eyes with one leering pre-Columbian carving. “I don’t necessarily believe in them, in case you’re wondering.”
I shrugged, which isn’t easy when you’re leaning on a cane. I’d had my share of odd foster families in the last few months. What could I say that wouldn’t offend my newest guardian, who also happened to be my fourth cousin thrice removed? Continue reading “Premonition: Updated Prologue + Chapter One”
I mentioned in my post about my writing goals that I was working on a “full-length children’s novel” that “may or may not involve spies.” It’s time I shared a brief excerpt from that project. 🙂
I’ve spent the last three years writing on and off about this idea. It started out as a short, prologue piece called The Hunter (completely independent Michael Gunter’s Hunter series, of course), as that’s supposed to be the title of the book’s mysterious, nameless main antagonist, but I never had the chance to put the rest of the story on paper.
Here’s hoping that it will be more than 54 pages upon completion! 😀
My mom didn’t abandon me. Nobody outwardly says she did, but judging by the raised eyebrows and sympathetic head shakes I get when I do so much as mention her, it’s pretty clear that on the inside, they believe it.
The neighbors had been giving me funny looks for a few days, and I’d fended off enough requests from teachers to meet with my mom about my grades that they were starting to get suspicious. I still don’t know which one of them made the call that ultimately got me into this whole mess.
When Kathleen, a naive-looking social worker, appeared a good three days after my mother’s disappearance, she sat uninvited at the kitchen table and chose her words carefully.
“Maxwell Chesterton,” she said, sounding out my full name like it was in an unfamiliar language, “your mom has disappeared.”
Well, thanks for the news flash, Counselor Troi. Have you any more information on her whereabouts than I do?
“We don’t know where she is,” she continued as though she could actually read my thoughts, “but I’ve been assigned to your case until she is found.” Continue reading “Novel Excerpt – Elite Falcons: The Hunted“
An unfinished work featuring the Figgies, the Third Doctor, the Brigadier, and Sarah Jane.
(by Allison Rose)
“Where’s the Doctor?” Cece Ryder asked incredulously, looking around the TARDIS control room uncertainly. That tweed-wearing, flippy-haired, bowtie-adoring Time Lord whom she’d been accompanying for the last few months was nowhere to be seen.
“I don’t know,” Emii Wells replied. “He hadn’t mentioned anything about going anywhere yesterday.”
Skye Falconer eyed the dashboard mischievously. “Do you suppose he’s hiding in there?” She was dying to crack it open and see what was hiding inside.
“Yeah!” Tyler Jonesmith agreed, reading her thoughts almost exactly. “I’m dying to crack it open and see what’s hiding inside!”
Emii, and Cece shook their heads vehemently. The last time someone had tried to do that, the results had been disastrous. Or so the Doctor in question claimed.
“Look,” Hannah suggested diplomatically, “I’m pretty sure he just went out shopping with the rest of the gang.”
It did seem plausible; Grace, Scarlett, Emory, Hailey, Athena, and Claire had all gone out to the mall to hang out, buy nail polish and do other girly things (although Scarlett had probably gone to the hardware store instead). Jack was meeting some friends of his, too. Rhiannon, his daughter, was visiting Gwen Cooper and her family in Wales. And the Doctor, as noted, wasn’t around for whatever reason, so, in conclusion, they were all alone in the TARDIS. Continue reading “Figgies Take the TARDIS“
