Saturday January 30 2010

Australian Open tennis is almost finished. Tonight we have - hopefully - a big battle between Justine Hennin and Serena Williams. GO JUSTINE!!!

Andew and I have been glued to the tellie for the last month - Hopman Cup, then Aust Open - and withdrawal symptoms start tomorrow night when Ansy Murray and Roger Federer mix it. I like Rog, don't get me wrong - he's superb winner and an even more superb loser, when he does that is - but I would also like to see a Federerless win this year.


My whine for today is having to change the name of my first novel, Home Before Dark. It used to be To Ride A Wild Pony, until I remembered that was the name of a popular TV show a few years ago. I changed it to HBD, and have discovered that another author has published a book of that name last year. A very successful book too, so back to the drawing board.

Came up with a beauty: THE NAKED ROOM!

How can a room be naked? Very easily if it's ceiling, walls and door are of unpainted wood (splinters sticking out) and there's nothing inside except a window with a grill across it, a porta potti, a stretcher and a female classical pianist prisoner!

So here is an excerpt:

CHAPTER 40

As Dusk Falls

Saturday: 4.30pm

A stranger told me I am going to die tonight.

Ice chips of fear trickle through my veins.

Minutes race as seconds; I'm breathing my life away.

Please ... I have so much to do yet, a career that's only just started, plans for my life.

I want to have a family.

I'm being pushed out of the world before I've even lived.

The wooden floor feels like concrete beneath my knees. I wrap my arms around my body.

So cold.

Will be a gun - or a knife? They've drugged my water for days. I could drink it all at once, so I won't know anything when it happens, but what if something happens and I get a chance to get away?

What did I do to deserve this?

Deep down, I knew that letting me live wasn't part of their plan. The woman's hatred grows stronger every day.

God, please .. someone find me, before it's too late.

Rage surges through me, joining terror. I brace myself against the crude timber wall and cling to the window mesh to peer out into blackness.

How dare they? How dare they decide how long I'm to live?

* * *

If you were in a bookstore, idly thumbing through a novel, would you feel impelled to buy it and start from the beginning?

Please let me know!

Thank you for reading today,

Diana