Hello there my sane followers! And also to the new readers who have either stumbled upon my blog by mistake or have just clicked to give-this-blog-a-try.
My name is Alexander Kennedy. I haven’t had the best of life’s. Either living in-and-out of a Mental Institution or living out of a black garbage or bin-bag. But I make do and I am still breathing, still alive. I have aspirations for becoming a Writer! (Most do.)
Check out my past posts, I have a lot of great stories to tell and also some very valuable writing information for people wanting to breaking into the industry.
I am going to start a new segment on my blog, I am going to be writing my novel and updating my blog simultaneously to take you on a trip of what I am going through while I write, look for literary agents or even achieve publication.
In this article I will take you through the first page. Page 1. In my eyes when reading the first page should be the most important, it is a space to set grounds, tones, style and talent; while keeping the readers eyes glued to the paper.
Now I have written a couple of novel (Both unsuccessful; go figures!) But hey, talent is grown it’s not given.
But as the first page goes, one must enforce that the reader does not pull away. Think of it. A reader walks into a book store and picks up a copy of (Let’s go with one of my novel’s titles.) The Diary Of An Immortal.
Now what the reader is looking for is “A Grip” Something that pulls them in and keeps them there in the shortest period of time. (They don’t want to be seen as reading the full manuscript, the first page or few lines to ensure that grip is kept)
Take my first page of The Diary Of An Immortal (The full book is on my blog, have a gander)
So once again, I stand on my castle tower staring at my kingdom, the sun has just set and a glow from the horizon still sits waiting to sleep, my only friend and greatest foe. The wind catches my cape and begins to make it almost alive in movement. The year was cart and corset. Humans are heading to the public house beneath me. I can hear every stretch of each leg muscle, and smell every dinner from days before on their breaths travelling on the cold air of an English dusk. The stray dogs below run in packs, chasing prey through the floor of the forests. Beyond the forest sits as an expanding industrial town which is trying to forget the past by building the future. Howls, hoots and drunken shouts control the echoes on the background of the snow enchanted mountain-side that deathly shadows the valley. The path from my home to the town moves like a serpents influence before a strike. And I am waiting for a target to capture, my patience sits on top of this world.
Hours have passed when I zoom in on a young maiden walking alone on the streets, covering herself up with her shawl from the murderous chill in the air, her black hair is knotted and her clothes are tattered, but to me through these hunger filled eyes, she is the most beautiful of creatures to ever consume my sight. The thirst almost sexual begins to take over my calm nature, my heart and adrenaline start obsessing over this being. I must have her; I must get closer and taste the music that plays within her. This feeling is almost benevolence but the undercurrent of this feeling is anomalistic and dangerous. I am not an evil that you know of but I do have similar traits of them all, even though all distasteful myths dawned with me.
I step forward towards the edge of the castle. Downwards is Red Speckle Lake, which roars like violent emotions at the peak of passion when their colours kiss one another. I leap from the bounds of gravity from the structure into the air, I let its solitude drag me towards the lake for one second then with no effort I speed on the body of the wind silently towards the town; the smell in my sinuses of her overpowers any last rational judgment of human within this shell.
I land on a small home rooftop, gently stepping into a better view as I watch her, within the confines of the shadows of the chimney and darkness rays, I dare not blink. She stops in her tracks, her heartbeat beings to rush with fearful thoughts from her mind until it engulfs the world to its rhythm, then becomes deafening, killing the silent environment with the pounding. I move like an African wildcat into position. I creep towards the buildings edge, in a prowling shape; the saliva appears from my bottom lip, ready to lunge for an attack – suddenly a window opens.
“Claudia, come home!” A voice.
I retreat back to the shadows embrace, my prey escaped in a watched upon run home by one of her family members.
“Damn, it was a love not to be, Claudia.” I sigh.
SEE! It makes you want to read on, doesn’t it. You need to know what happens next. Thus a grip has been made.
SEE!! I am not just a pretty face.
So make sure the first page is eye-catchy and pulls in your eye-victims so they never-ever leave and you will ensure a name for yourself, forever.
This has been a writer/psychopath article
Keep those pens busy
Any questions just ask. Most of you do.
- Writing a Novel (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- Excuse Me…. How Do You Write? (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- What To Write About? (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- The Diary Of An Immortal – Chapter 2 – Written By Alexander Kennedy (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- The Psychotic Writers Blog! (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- I Need Help To Write! – Alex Kennedy To The Rescue. (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- Ask Andy: Blogging in the Comfort Zone (Comfort Zone) (benchmarkemail.com)
- Kathleen Reardon: Notes on a First Novel (huffingtonpost.com)
- My Life! The Honest Writer Chronicles. (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)
- The Psycho Writer. (youngadultfictionblog.wordpress.com)