by Kristin Nador/@KristinNador
It’s been a quiet month here on the blog. With illness, financial issues and a death in the family, it’s not been the most conducive to staying on track with my writing and blogging. But I’m getting back on the horse and making my way back to posting regularly. Thanks for your patience and sticking with me.
One of the things I discovered after my hiatus is that I’d missed an opportunity to join in a fun writing challenge. My good friend in the blogosphere, Diana Douglas, invited me to try The ‘Look’ Challenge several weeks ago. It’s a writing challenge that has been sweeping through blogdom as of late.
Here is how it works: Take your current book or WIP and find an instance where the word ‘look’ is used. Post the surrounding paragraphs on your blog and share a sample of your writing. Then challenge other writer/bloggers to do the same and have them link back to your original blog post. Many of the participants are tagging 5 specific people for the challenge, but I am going to be a rebel and challenge anyone who reads this blog to join in. Post your ‘Look’ Challenge to your own blog, then post a link to your excerpt in the comments below so we can all head over there to enjoy it.
Hope this gets you excited to share some of your writing. Also, check out Diana Douglas’s book excerpt. (She has two books available on Kindle if you’re interested.)
Here’s my historical fiction WIP excerpt:
Magdalena took a look around the room and made her own inventory: the blue settee, the candle holders, the carved table where Papa kept his pipe all belonged to the banker now. The only thing in the room Papa owned was the pine casket at the far end of the room. It waited patiently for its occupant while propped on two barrels brought from the saloon.
Lumbering footfalls shook the floorboards and Magdalena’s brother Frank stood next to her.
“I see you found the boots,” he said softly in German, and put a beefy hand on her shoulder. “Do you want me to put them on Papa for you?”
Magdalena looked up at him, a stray lock of blond hair hanging across his weathered forehead, his face mirroring Mama’s hazel eyes and the bump in Papa’s nose.
Magdalena shook her head. “I will do it. I want to.”
They were silent together for a moment observing the coffin. Frank shuffled his feet and broke the silence with a burst of conversation.
“You will like it with me and Rose Ellen. She will calm down after all the arrangements. She gets . . . excited about things. She is happy you will be with us. You will become just like sisters!” he said.
They glanced at each other and twin smirks appeared on each of their faces. Magdalena raised an eyebrow and Frank countered with his best impression of Father Goller. “With God, anything is possible.”
They chuckled together for a moment.
“You come work with me at the saloon, you will see, you will like it. And there are more customers that speak English all the time. More chance to learn, eh? You will see, you will like it. We take care of each other, we all work hard and things will be fine, yes? Don’t worry, Magda. Promise?”
“I promise Frank, I won’t worry. It will be fine,” she agreed. Remember to say another prayer for lying. She cast a glance at the coffin and wished she could believe what Frank said. How could things ever be fine again?