This confirmed I must pursue a love story in my second novel.Īfter the bows for the ballet, the curtain dropped, lights went on and the spell was broken. Good, beauty and the truth prevailed when the story ended. Transfixed, I watched the transformation of Cinderella and marvelled at the re-telling of a classic. Male and female characters can get ugly when they don’t want to behave. Well, I am like the wicked stepmother trying to force my characters to fall in love or get back home before it’s too late. ‘Who are the ugly sisters and wicked stepmothers?’ I hear my fairy godmothers ask. Jena Henry and Angela Petch are my fairy godmothers As I write, I know exactly what Angela and Jena will ask.
They have become twinkling stars on my Books in Handbag Blog. Angela Petch and Jena Henry are my fairy godmothers.
Lynda Stacey invited me to the RNA York tea and encouraged me to apply for their New Writer’s Scheme, while Lizzie Lamb, an RNA member, is always on hand to provide me with indie author expertise. During my blogging year, I have also encountered my very own fairies who have added magic and to my year. The evil dissolved when the fairies appeared and then they distracted me from my writing. Cheers to Lizzie Lamb and Lynda StaceyĪ malevolent force dominated the ballet: good wrestled with evil. Doreen, in my work in progress, possess the same sort of pantomime dame presence as the stepmother but she isn’t wicked. I feel as if I choreograph every single movement of the characters in my book and sometimes it appears forced, until the characters take on a life of their own. He had planned every single movement to correspond with the music. The man playing the wicked stepmother was expressive in both physical and facial movements. But these characters distracted me with their humour. The erratic movements of the stepmother and ugly sisters reminded me of the clunky sentences I have abandoned. My work in progress is still a pumpkin waiting for the final transformation.Ī forlorn Cinderella appeared on stage, like the character of Sophie I have left behind in my second novel. Time ticking reminded me it was already the end of another year and it was almost time to press the button on my New Writers’ Scheme application. The ballet opened with a clock projected on the screen and dancers represented the mechanism. I hoped thoughts of my characters wouldn’t disturb my enjoyment of the performance. The discordant notes reminded me of the collection of ideas for my work in progress and blog posts. The orchestra tuned up prior to the Russian State Ballet’s performance of Cinderella.
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