Tag Archives: Beneath the Old Oak

Blues Buster: Run

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I struggled with conflicting ideas for this week’s Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files. In the end I went with a rewrite of a scene from last year’s NaNoWriMo…which fit the song so perfectly for me. The song, a classic from Amy Winehouse “You Know I’m No Good.” This version of the scene may find its way into the manuscript… (I’ll keep my second story for another day!)
Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (please do not use)
Run

Dad’s days had turned into marathon internet searches and desperate attempts to scroll through his wife’s social media, page after page, looking for clues. Hours of reading online blogs and lengthy research into the reasons why women run. His fingers ran through his unwashed hair and his three-day-old shirt creased like his forehead.
Meg perched on the edge of the sofa debating lunch, which was, as she stared at the clock, rapidly turning into dinner. She shook her head, even if she made food, he’d just refuse it. She glanced at Dad, her eyes roving across the room, taking in the photographs on the mantle, happy family pictures, smiling at the world. Her hands clenched in her lap, and she fought the tears that welled behind her eyes. Her heart thudded and her bottom lip wobbled.
“Am I like Mum?” Meg released her question.
Dad turned to her. “Why do you ask?”
“Because she’s broken, and I might be too…are we both no good?”
Dad slumped at his computer, and Meg spoke anxiously rising from the sofa, “Dad?” Her words no more than a whisper but filled with a hopeful plea of desperation. “Dad, if I ever run away, will you come and find me?”
Tears illuminated his red, swollen eyes and a quivering sigh escaped his lips as he swung his chair round and took Meg in his arms. He crushed his daughter to his broken heart. “Sweetheart, if you ever run away and you want me to find you, no matter how far or how long it takes I will find you, I’ll walk every road and sail every sea until you’re back in my arms, I will find you, I’ll always find you.”
She tightened her arms around him, there was no need to worry, no matter how much she wanted to run, to run until her feet were sore, until her legs could barely carry her, she would never hurt her father.
She was not her mother.

(331 Words)

Visual Dare #34:Kiss and Five Sentence Fiction: Vision

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Anonymous Legacy’s Visual Dare #34: Kiss and
Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction: Vision

The room was clinical and sparse, but comfortable despite its mint green walls and overly starched bed linen. Dad stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, staring out with his lost puppy-dog expression and Meg knew he wasn’t checking the tears that slipped down his face.
She bit her lip and gazed at her heavily medicated mum.
Meg leaned across the bed and rested her cheek against her mother’s soft face. Her kiss elicited no response and Meg closed her eyes picturing, just for once, that she had a normal mum, and she bit back her conflicting resentment.

(100 Words)

(Five Sentences)

The Next Big Thing: Beneath the Old Oak

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I was recently nominated to take part in The Next Big Thing by the lovely Donna McNicol, where we let you in on all the info about one of our works in progress…I chose my NaNo novel:
Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)
What is the title of your Work in Progress?
Beneath the Old Oak
Where did the idea come from for the book?
When I first met my husband I read my future mother-in-law’s poetry and really enjoyed her writing, ‘The Death of a Tree’ was my favourite. Years later, a seed (or acorn) of an idea crept in and I had to run with it, and with her permission I’ll add the poem to the back of the book. 
It’s about the life cycle of an old oak…and piqued my interest when I thought about all an oak will have experienced in its life…
What genre does your book fall under?
YA, the accompanying story covers some graphic and heartrending times for fourteen-year-old Meg.
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
Meg would be played by a young Emma Watson, someone who could convey holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and her mother would be an actress like Emily Blunt or Anna Friel who could portray a complete breakdown.
What is a one-sentence synopsis of the book? (Okay, I used four sentences…)
Meg’s mother is anxious, depressed and neglectful. Meg thinks her mum is broken and wonders if she’ll be next, or is she already broken too? Meg wants to escape, but her mum beats her to it. Solace is found in a huge, old oak tree and Meg begins to learn to grow…
Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
Right now I’m planning to self-publish as it’s a sister book to my earlier book ‘Beneath the Rainbow’ already out on Kindle.
How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?
This story was put on the back burner, but when I joined NaNoWriMo I knew it was the one I’d write. All the backbone was there, the story just needed fleshing out and writing, so the majority of its first draft was written in 30 days for NaNo… There’s still about 10K left to write (to add to my NaNo 50K), and I’m taking my time with the ending.
What other books would you compare this story to in your genre?
Not really sure right now, my reading is so eclectic I don’t know anything out there the same. Meg’s story is heart rending and fits well into YA.
Who or what inspired you to write this book?
The poem inspired the oak tree and I inspired the rest, to explain…I suffer anxiety and depression and have been through much of the experiences in the novel…I write what I know. (Though the novel is fiction)
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
How would you feel if you leaned against a huge, ancient, old tree and it spoke to you? Not with a voice, but with emotions and imagery…your hands tingle and prickle, and your mind floods with emotions so great you are overwhelmed. You are privileged to experience fragments of the old oak’s history…  

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)

I’m now supposed to nominate five further nominees for: The Next Big Thing…I’d love to know more from these wonderful writers:
Stacy: A Jar of Fireflies
Elisabeth: 40 Something Undomesticated Devil
Ruth: Bullishink
Mark: My Souls Tears
Meg: Darcy to Dionysus
There are so many more I’d like to nominate but many have already been nominated…so nominate yourself with my permission if I haven’t tagged you!

Five Sentence Fiction: Time

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Photograph  by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)
Her mum had been missing for three excruciating days and though the police report had been filed and a search coordinated, her mother did not want to be found.
She stared at her dad, slumped at his computer, and spoke softly, “Dad?” her words no more than a whisper but with filled with a hopeful plea of desperation, “Dad, if I ever run away, will you come and find me?”
Tears illuminated his red, swollen eyes and a quivering sigh escaped his lips as he crossed the room in a few short strides and crushed his daughter to his broken heart, “Sweetheart, if you ever run away and you want me to find you, no matter how far or how long it takes I will find you, I’ll walk every road and sail every sea until you’re back in my arms, I will find you, I’ll always find you.”
She tightened her arms around him, there was no need to worry, no matter how much she wanted to run, to run until her feet were sore, until her legs could barely carry her, she would never hurt her father, and so she would never run. 
She was not her mother.

Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction.

NaNoWriMo Teaser: Oncoming Traffic

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So it’s the final NaNoWriMo week…and here’s your last unedited snippet:
Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)
Once on the main road, Meg stared out of the window at the river running alongside, the sunshine glinting and sparkling across its surface, and Meg thought how inviting it looked. The she heard sniffles, just a little one then another. She squinted at Mum as the sun gleamed across the windscreen, and Mum choked back a sob. Meg wanted to say something, but nothing made it out of her throat. 
“I don’t know why I bother!” wept Mum, “What’s the point, everything always goes wrong…”
Meg sat, her skin prickling and her fingers clenching. 
“There really is no point. Did you know that Meg, there’s no point, no point to anything…”    
“Mum…” squeaked Meg.
“Just know that now, before life decides to rip you apart with its dreams and promises. Know that nothing’s worth it!”
Meg’s eyes welled up too.
Mum turned her head to look at her daughter. “Meg, don’t cry, that’s not worth it either. Crying doesn’t do a damn thing!” 
Tears began to slip down Meg’s face as she sat in silence.
Mum continued, as a car horn blared behind her. “Don’t cry, there’s nothing we can do, not a damn thing!” Mum released the steering wheel and Meg’s eyes widened. She cried out. “Mum!” 
Mum’s hands were back on the wheel but she was staring rigidly at the road. Not at the road, thought Meg suddenly as she stared out of the windscreen, but at a lorry heading down the opposite side of the road. Her mum was staring at the lorry. Her mum was staring at the lorry! 
“Mum!” Meg screamed, “Mum!”
The car began to veer across the double white lines, and Meg’s cries got desperate. “Mum, stop, Mum, stop!” Meg began to wail as they veered into the lorry’s lane. Meg grabbed at the wheel but Mum’s hands were too firm. Meg closed her eyes, her heart about to break through her chest and just as suddenly, the car swerved back onto the right side on the road, the lorry’s horn screaming as it passed. 
Meg’s legs were jelly, her hands sweaty and shaking and she wanted to get out of the car. “Mum, stop the car, stop the car!”
Her mum, slowed the car down, but kept driving, a car horn sounded behind them and Meg begged her mum to stop again. Finally, as they approached a lay-by her mum slowed and pulled over. The car stopped and Meg scrambled out, slamming the door behind her and running to the hedge. She thought she was going to be sick, her head thumped, her stomach swam and her heart broke.

Five Sentence Fiction: Feast

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Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)
There were no worries about walking on egg shells Mum had already broken all the eggs. Meg had painstakingly cleaned the walls and kitchen cabinets herself. Bright, sunshine yellow yolks had dripped down the tiles and sticky, gooey egg white had plastered the cabinets and floor. Following the eggs had been the plastic tub of butter, which had split upon hitting the wall and a huge smear of butter had spread, landing in a heap on the surface. Meg rued that day.  
Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction. I’m so caught up in the final week of NaNoWriMo, that you get another glimpse into Meg’s life… From next week, you should be getting more one off fiction again!

NaNoWriMo Teaser: Fault Lines

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Our third NaNoWriMo week is upon us…therefore another snippet:
This one, again very unedited…is harder to give you. I make no apologies for the nature of the excerpt, I write what I know, but please bear in mind this is fiction.
You need to know that Meg is fourteen and troubled, her mother is depressive and Meg hadn’t realised how bad things had become. She sneaked upstairs to find her mum and saw her mother cut herself, through the door hinges. Meg was devastated, and in the following chapter tried it, but couldn’t do it, herself. The tension mounts:

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook and Instagram (Please do not use without permission)
While Dad sat at the desk checking emails, Meg disregarded the chair she usually sat in and took the empty seat beside Mum. Mum glanced at her daughter and a smile played on her lips. She rested her hand on Meg’s thigh and caught Meg’s eye, and her daughter leaned across to burrow close. Nobody spoke but mother and daughter felt familiar warmth. Meg placed her hand on Mum’s and felt emotion bubble in her throat; she couldn’t talk even if she wanted to. 
They sat like that for a while, Meg’s head resting on her mother’s shoulder and their unusually tender affection soothed the crippling anguish in both of their hearts.
The clock ticked, the cat sat in the middle of the floor straining his neck to reach his hindquarters as he meticulously washed, and Meg’s mum closed her eyes as she relaxed.
Meg heard her mum sigh and her chest rose and fell with comforting regularity, Mum was in a good place and Meg allowed herself to breathe deeply. She stared at her mum’s hand, the one that lay on her lap, and gently stroked the back of it. She rubbed her fingers across the rings on Mum’s third finger. The smooth gold band and the perpetual circle of tiny diamonds circumnavigating her eternity ring. She lightly rotated the diamonds, letting them sparkle, then massaged Mum’s hand up to her wrist. 
Mum’s breath was soft and tranquil and Meg softly pushed Mum’s sleeve up her arm in a gentle move to massage further. Her mum didn’t move, and Meg pushed it higher. The cut tapered below the furrowed sleeve, peering angrily at Meg. She massaged lightly and softly followed the cut, then ran her finger over the reddened, swollen ridge. 
Her mum flinched and instinctively reached across and pulled the sleeve back down, covering any betrayal. 
Meg bit her lip desperate to speak, her heart raced, thumping so loud she was sure Mum could hear it. Indy stopped licking himself and paused in an ungainly fashion mid-clean, he stared at Meg and Meg stared back. Mum sighed and Meg spoke, softly but firmly.
“Mum, how did you cut your arm?”
The silence was ear piercing for a split second, and Meg felt the tension pool into her mother. Her mum cleared her throat and nodded towards the cat gazing at them on the floor. “The cat scratched me.”
Nobody spoke; even Dad’s fingers hovered above his keyboard.
Then Mum cleared her throat again and despite the palpable tension she brushed her fingers across Meg’s arm. “And how did you get that scratch Meg?”
“The cat,” Meg’s answer was quick and precise. She was learning well.

Five Sentence Fiction: Business

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Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
She wandered through town, slinking between mothers and pushchairs, corporate men and women, and shoppers, all in a hurry to be finished in town before the mid-morning regulars appeared. Everybody minded their own business and Meg was nothing extraordinary, as usual she was invisible and that was just how she wanted it. 
She flew from one shop to another, darting from one doorway to the next until she was clear of the town centre, unhindered by people and out on her own. Ghosts travelled amongst the living unseen, living out their haunted nightmares and Meg was no different to a phantom lost amid the sentient.  In response her heart beat rapidly and as she slowed down again she was aware of the sound of her blood surging and pumping through her veins, she was alive, even though she barely felt it.
Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction – Business. I am still pretty locked in to NaNoWriMo, so stuck with another five sentence excerpt.

NaNoWriMo Teaser: The Old Oak

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Second week into NaNoWriMo and it’s time for another teaser, happier than the last two… again pretty much unedited, oh, how you notice excess words when your inner editor is locked away! 
The oak tree is Meg’s escape, somewhere to go when it all gets too much…
Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
The tree looked perfectly normal, but Meg was far from anything resembling normal. She got to her feet and stepped forward, hoping to feel something more, but nothing, not even a shimmer, nothing, until she placed both hands directly back on the trunk. 
Once more her hands smarted and she was drawn closer. She rested her cheek against the coarse bark and closed her eyes. 
Images flooded her mind, hundreds, all at once…and laughter, and tears, and grief and joy. Impressions swamped her consciousness and emotions filled every fibre of her, until she again withdrew. Then she clamped her hands back onto the tree and allowed the sensations to bathe her for as long as she could. She tried to sort the images, but they flashed too fast, and the sounds all merged into one big noise. 
Then an image leaped out at her, a boy’s excited face, a young boy, no more than seven or eight, scrambling through its branches, whooping in glee as he climbed. She grinned and watched him climb through the twisting branches to the delight of onlookers below. He didn’t get very far, but his exhilaration thrust through her as he crawled from branch to branch, and then swung on the furthest reaching bough to leap back down to the ground and his eager friends. 
The image fizzled and Meg let go of the tree. Infused with excitement and before she knew it she was standing on the bulging root launching herself up onto the lowest branch. She grabbed at twigs and stems and pulled herself up, straddling the bough. Then she reached up to the next fork and clambered onto the higher branch. She settled in a nook, and swung her legs enjoying the new perspective from just a few feet up. 
It was a while later as the sun rose higher in the sky that Meg checked her watch. Way past ten o’clock and panic struck, she’d been gone far too long, lost in this world of hers.
She shuffled on the branch and grabbed a gnarl and stuck her hand in a tiny hole to lower to the branch below. She carefully let herself down and felt her feet touch the bough. She released her sore hand and balanced before letting go with the other. It was then she realised boots were not the best footwear for climbing damp trees. 
Her sole slipped and her leg jack-knifed beneath her, her hand ripped away from the tree and she tumbled past the branch she was trying to reach. As she hit the ground pain cleaved her head and she plunged into darkness.

Five Sentence Fiction: Character

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Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
Meg’s throat burned, tears streamed and the wind howled. Her long hair spilled out behind and February’s cold gusts whipped around her legs. Her heart hammered and short, rasping breaths stung as she sucked icy cold air through dry lips. She almost tripped over the tree root, stretched across her path, and her legs felt like they’d give way if she stopped. She didn’t want to stop, but she didn’t want to keep running either. 
This is my opening paragraph introducing you to my protagonist Meg, in my current NaNoWriMo novel. Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, Lillie asked for five sentences about one of our main characters in our NaNoWriMo or WIP… so that was mine!