National Novel Writing Month!

crest-bda7b7a6e1b57bb9fb8ce9772b8faafbI’m currently taking part in this year’s National Novel Writing Month and it’s all about reaching 50,000 words and completing that novel you’ve always wanted to write, in just a month! I’ve started 8 days late, but have managed to get to around 3,000 words in one sitting. It’s a lot of fun, and remember its only a first draft. My novel is called The Diamond Salesman. Michael Barnes is a wealthy diamond salesman who travels the world, embracing its varying cultures, crime scenes and women. Michael Barnes seems as though he is in control of his career and the dangers which lie beneath, but can he manage a deal outside of his comfort zone?

Here’s a short excerpt:

He flicked through the stack of crisp documents which had recently found their way onto the cluttered mahogany bureau. The window beside the tan, rugged-looking man framed the motion of noise and colour trapped outside the pristinely decorated apartment. The room echoed that of a blank canvas, not a single trace of personality had ever lived in this room. It was sterile, and not a place anybody would stay for long. The noise of traffic emerged violently through the thin walls and flimsy single-glazed window. The man reached for his white trilby hat, its edge yellowing with age and sweat, and forcefully smashed it in front of him on the desk. Both of his aged hands resumed new positions, one was faithfully stroking the documents which were neatly held together by a single silver paperclip. However, the other was rubbing his forehead in such a stressful manner that his skin was forming crumbs like the excess of a school child’s eraser.
The desk at which he sat uncomfortably close to was strewn with loose belongings; it was the bottom of a shipwrecked boat, full of unrelated belongings which had all been somehow united previously in their own way. An open wallet spewed a collection of different coins, notes and tickets. A single pen resided in a small metal pot, bearing the initials M.B. He reached for the lonely pen, holding his back in place whilst grimacing as he moved. The man wore brown tortoise shell glasses which scarcely hid his greying eyebrows and sun kissed skin. He had the appearance of an elderly man, yet his were in their thirties. Traffic continued to grow louder, police sirens filled any remaining silence and entangled with a familiar ringing.
“Yes?” he raised his mobile phone to his ear, with a concerned expression creeping across his face. “I do not understand your proposition. Either we have a sale or we do not.”
After a series of nods and various irritated expressions the man threw his phone across the pallid apartment into his brown, soft leather briefcase which lay in solitude on the bed. The phone vibrated once more and the man strolled slowly towards it, like he was sizing up his competition, and abruptly slammed the briefcase shut, flicking both locks secure simultaneously. He then walked towards the mirror clutching his briefcase, he looked at himself carefully brushing down his white suit and delicately touching his stubble in thought.
“Mr. Barnes?” a woman’s melodic French voice sounded from beyond the apartment’s front door. “Would you like me to tell the driver that you will be down soon?”
The man glanced around the room, checking that he had not left anything important behind. His eyes closed briefly and he sighed.
“yes thank you Isabelle I’ll walk down now.”

I hope that has at least whet your appetite for novelling just a little bit, good luck for those that are joining in!

 

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