How to Inspire Words

Have you ever been tempted to write a short narrative motivated by music? It is a wonderful exercise that produces different effects to the words, sometimes attaching a rhythm or patterning to the narrative.

In my endeavours to find ways to stimulate my writing, I try to choose music from different genres. It can inspire thoughts about characters or influence a scene that has been suffering from mental block. Sometimes, it’s just for fun to relieve tension and let the mind flow, unimpeded.

Today, I’d like to share with you a little piece written under the influence of Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy. I’ve chosen an extended version that allows me enough time to become accustomed to the melody and then to submerge my mind into the emotional senses aroused by the music. Suddenly, the music speaks and all I have to do is note the words flowing from its narrative.

So, here it is – my little piece written under the influence of Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy! Enjoy.

Soft, sensual lips slowly murmured my name. I felt the quiver resonating through my body, sending shivers down my spine, extending outwards to my toes and the butterflies dancing under my ribs. Shadows of laughter hinted at those lips, so delicious and inviting. Yet, something held me back. Was it the unanswered question lingering in my dry throat, hungry for the lips to sate me? Was it knowing that once I succumbed to such sweet temptation, there was no going back? Or the fact that our bodies were entwined when they weren’t supposed to touch? Oh, sweet torture.

Angry, I let go of those long fingers wrapped around my waist. They slipped away, taking the warmth of their touch with them. Desolation engulfed my now hollow frame. How could I be so stupid? Those lips had promised salvation; knights willing to slay the hunger growling inside me like an ugly beast pushing and shoving at my maligned heart. Helpless, I watched as they turned down their protuberant smile and sharp lines invaded smooth skin around them. A sadness I had caused shaped something once so beautiful and eager. So easy it would have been to say yes; so easy to quiet the doubts pecking at my temptation.

Alas, those sweet persuasions were now far away and focused on a new prey, a prey eager to take the trip to fantasia.

I watch as they meet, the enduring touch divulging a missing innocence that was never there to begin with, the embarrassing tartness of such haste and machination. My heart cries at the betrayal but my mind celebrates its fastidiousness – the victory of overcoming a certain desolation that would have cracked an already fragile heart, the hurt that might have been suffered after such sweet salvation.

No. I refuse to watch any longer. After all, it is my birthday and there will surely be more hidden promises of amuse bouche awaiting to entice my appetite for amour.

 

 

 

Copyright  held by ©Eloise De Sousa (2019). All rights reserved.

Who’s Joining the Spoilt Miranda series?

It has been the long awaited sequel to Cecil the Bully and Spoilt Miranda. At last, their friends will be getting a chance to tell their own tale of meeting the infamous Ms Crow and her deadly stare.

Without further ado, I present:

Snotty Norman and Spotty Sally Find Fame

Now that the year 6 children of Arden White Primary School have enjoyed their summer holidays and forged new friendships outside the confines of the school grounds, we meet them again as they start their first day at Evelyn Winsborough Academy – a school with a reputation for aggressive behaviour and truancy.

Little do they know that the school has had a major overhaul over the last year. With sparkling new classrooms and hi-tech gear to keep the children occupied (and monitored), Mr Dank, the Head Teacher, expects a high standard of behaviour from the newbies. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t know what’s coming his way as the notorious Arden White crew start their new year causing chaos down the clean halls and run riot over brittle-backed teachers.

Join the young ruffians as they encounter Ms Crow again in a comical calamity that leaves the teachers huffing and the children puffing to get out of her way!

 

Cecil and Miranda’s Young Reviewers

img_7378-1Working as a junior school librarian has given me the opportunity to see first-hand, how my books affect their readers. Young readers don’t get an opportunity to write book reviews for titles they’ve enjoyed unless it is in-house, that is, in their classroom or school library. I like to encourage my students to share their views with each other by offering up a suggestion box in our library which is filled with book titles chosen by my young readers. I’m happy to add Spoilt Miranda and Cecil the Bully have made the cut!

img_6534-1When discussing books, I get a lot of feedback from my younger readers that Spoilt Miranda is strange and takes the younger reviewer on a confusing journey of dreams before she resolves her situation. My older customers get it though and enjoy the ride. Sometimes scary, sometimes thrilling, the idea of Spoilt Miranda is controversial and encourages discussion on how her silly behaviour could have been dealt with in a better manner. I like this because it makes the reader think further than just the story.

Cecil, on the other hand, encourages my readers of any age to think of what steps they would take to sort out a bully. From standing up to him or joining his ranks, there are always amusing points of view. The slapstick comedy goes down a treat and adds to the entertainment factor of the book, according to the young reviewers. This is something to consider when I write the next sequel to the Arden White Primary School students.

Give or take the marmite reflections on my books by the young students at my school, I’m pleased to share the news that they are mostly enjoyed and well read. It gives me great pleasure to see this and I do hope more children are enjoying my books around the world.

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Check out my other titles available from these links:

http://amazon.com/author/eloisedesousa

http://lulu.com/spotlight/eloisedesousa

Or give me a shout out on Twitter:

@mello_elo

Thanks for reading and good luck!

Monday

The pungent smell of rot permeated the air as footsteps echoed through the forest. Hairs rose on their tiny arms and legs as the bushes rustled to their right. The sound drew closer; their footsteps quickened. No point in running; the roots were a trip hazard and judging by the heavy odour, a swamp was close at hand. 

Suddenly, the torchlight dimmed and went out leaving a yawning darkness ready to swallow them whole. Soft whimpers escaped their lips as they waited for their eyes to acclimatise to the inky blackness staining their retinas. All the while the rustling edged ever closer, shaking and snapping the undergrowth with a vengeance.

Just as the shadows and silhouettes became distinguishable against the purple hued sky, the creature broke free from the bushes. Screams pierced the night followed by running, tripping, crying figures. The odd shape gave chase, closing the distance with ease. 

Flash! Another torch punctured the dark, exposing the two figures cowering next to the redwood with moss tinted bark. Big brown eyes looked up at the adult looming over them.

“That’s quite enough for one night, Izzy and Zach,” sighed their mother. “You’ve excited the dog and now he smells like the swamp. It’s time to go home.”

“Aww, mum please,” they cried. “Just one more game of hide and seek and then we will call it a night. Please?”

Her shadow panned across the tree line and shrubs as she turned to find the smelly beast wagging his tail, waiting for the command to hide in the undergrowth again. She smiled, her teeth glinting in the sparse light.

“Fine. I’ll count but no more screaming as if the devil is out to get you! Ready?”

Eager little heads bobbed up and down before disappearing back into the darkness.

A voice called,”One…two…three..!” 

Two figures scrambled in the dark, their bodies pumped with adrenaline as their breath came in gasps. This was the best game of hide and seek ever! 

The Pink Mask

Taster:

Crystal quivered as another sob escaped her swollen lips. How could such a simple plan go so wrong?  She had followed her sister’s commands to the letter.  Yet, somehow, somewhere along the line, what was supposed to be a silly prank had become real.  Her sister was dead.  Tangled, wild hair fell unchecked across her face as she turned to watch the paramedics load Harold’s unconscious body into the back of an awaiting ambulance.

She sighed.  All this for revenge.  Had she had the nerve, she would have stopped her sister in time; hindsight was a beautiful thing. After giving her statement to the police, she would be free to go, whereas poor Harold would be arrested for Melanie’s murder.  Crystal gulped down a nervous giggle.  Well, from another perspective, Melanie plan had worked!

With the body of her sister wrapped in black and tucked away in the back of another ambulance, the sirens wailed their despair as they pulled away from the crime scene.

The body of Melanie Kent wrapped in black, most becoming for any beautiful corpse, mused Crystal.  The heavy footfall of a very large man dressed in a heavy trenchcoat caught her attention.  His determined walk in her direction wiped the lingering smile off her pretty face.

“Detective Bob Jones, miss. I’d like to ask you a few questions about what occurred tonight.”  Heavy brows and the hooded, focused stare scared her. She wrapped the patchwork blanket tighter around her body.

“I already answered the officer’s questions detective.  What more do you want from me?”

Jones watched her. She was as slinky as a cat’s tail, curling her feline body into a protective stance at his scrutiny.

“Do you know the woman who was found in the bathtub?”

“N-no detective. As I told Officer Campbell, Harold and I were in the bedroom.  I got up to go freshen up and found her there. I tried to pull her out but…” A lonely tear wet her cheek. “The blood.  It was too much and my mind snapped. I screamed. Harold, he tried to help me but I knocked him aside and ran.” Her hand quivered as she cleared stray strands of hair from her eyes. “The next thing I remember is being wrapped up in this blanket and the police arriving.”

The detective watched Crystal picking at the blanket, as though trying to remove the lies woven within. He sighed. Life would be so simple if people told the truth the first time round.