Prologue #1

PROLOGUE #1

The 28th of October, was both the best, and worst days of Violas life.

She stood wearing her wedding dress, modest, unembellished, white and luminous.  She was there in her bare feet, her blue satin ballet pumps neatly placed by the bed, she gazed out of the window taking in the sight of the lights, the tourists, the the life, the soul, the existence below.  As she looked, she felt as if the the scene below mirrored the way she was feeling, electric, connetic, alive.  Never in the years that had been before, had she felt as she did in that moment, invincible and protected.

Ben put his hand around her waist and his chin on her shoulder, following her gaze to the scene below.
"What are you thinking Mrs Wentworth?"
"Well Mr Wentworth, I am thinking  that out of all of the brides in all of the world, that has ever been, I am the happiest". She turned her head to look at him and cupped his head
"And I think that, I, have the best husband in the world". She kissed him lightly on the lips and looked in to the depths of his brown eyes".
"I think I am the lucky one, I have no idea what you can see in a guy like me, you're, you are, quite frankly, amazing".

They stared at each other with wrapt attention.  It was in that moment, that the chip of doubt that had been nestled in her heart had finally disappeared.  She had done the right thing, he was the right man. She had decided on her own, using her own judgment, her own standards.  Yes Ben was unemployed, ill at ease in social settings and had an accent that you could cut with a knife, but none of those things ever mattered to Viola.  He loved her for her, and she, she loved him for being him.

Plot

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PLOT

Viola Elliott is young, pretty, ambitious, clever and in love. Ben Wentwoth is young, handsome, headstrong, intelligent and in love with Viola. There is only one problem Charlie Elliott doesn't the want Viola throwing herself away on a penniless upstart who only wants her for her money and connections.

Ten years later the tides have changed, Viola and Ben meet again under very different circumstances and this time Ben isn't going to put his heart on the line this time. Viola full of regret, looks on from afar as Ben a achieves all of his ambitions as she watches hers slip away out of loyalty to her father.

As events conspire to bring Viola and Ben together, can old wounds heal? Can love bloom again?

Of course it will ts romantic fiction! But its the getting there which is the fun!

Premis

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PREMIS

Persuasion has always been my favourite Jane Austen novel. I reread Persuasion at the age of 27 (the same age of the protagonist in the book) and recognised that feeling of lost love and opportunity. Since then I have long had the idea of reimagining Persuasion for a new generation, Bridget Jones's Diary with less sex and smaller pants.

It's a great idea, even if I do say so myself. I have firm images of my characters in my head, I just hope I can translate those images into engaging and semi-realistic characters (I'm going for romantic fiction after all not gritty down and dirty drug dealers).

So this is my goal. Complete my story. Because quite frankly I need to get these characters out of my head before they send me bonkers.

I need to focus on my own life rather than those of fictional characters and I can't do that when I have a cast of fictional character taking up residence in my brain.

Project

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INTRODUCTION

 

I have an overactive imagination. I day dream constantly, I make up back stories for people I see in the street, their lives, loves, problems and joys. I make up stories, complex plots and have back stories running through my head all of the time. I often try to write the down my ideas. I have been a frustrated writer for a decade, trying and failing to complete the tales that are brewing in the creative part of my brain.

When my Mum died in February, my thoughts and back stories stopped. I was too sad. Life was too real, I couldn't tap in to that creative part of my being. It has been months and finally I am feeling myself again. My thoughts are returning. I want to be creative and I have never felt so productive.

I want to write. I want to complete the story I have rattling around in my noggin. The perspective I have on life has been skewed. I am no longer happy with coasting along. I want to contribute, I want to see myself in literature, I want to see characters I can relate to, and it seems the only way to ensure that is to do it myself. So that's is what I aim to do.