Remarkable Objects – A Four Part Murder Mystery
I’ve been eager to get this out for a while now. This was the story I wrote last year when I decided to challenge myself to daily writing. The result was just short of 20k, almost a novella. Not bad at all. This year is different: NaNoWriMo is real, and different than I imagined.
It feels appropriate to step up to the plate this way and show the fruits of my labour. As for Sliver of Light – that one is very much in preparation, as its turned out to be larger than I thought. I had this idea of a trilogy with the potential of a fourth book, but it’s turned out that it could work as a single novel in multiple parts or three novels altogether.
Facebook is getting cagey about people using it as a free advertising platform – it hassles me on a regular basis with “previews” that I should go and buy, right away! Nothin’ doing! I’m not saying advertising is bad, but it’s not practical for the ACME Resource Pack. I can’t make any predictions about this larger work, yet. I’d rather a publicist did that, anyway.
Yes, the hunt for an agent goes on. Why’d’ya suppose I started posting short stories on Medium, anyway? On that note, here’s a preview…
Face first on the pavement, no sign of trauma, foul play or … anything that a keen eye or diagnostic hand could detect. Detective Inspector Penny Broken frowned and unfolded her arms with the synthetic crinkle of weather resistant jacket, gesturing at the nape of the neck, the back of his thick legs, vaguely suggesting the ‘usual’ vulnerabilities. She prefaced lightly: “He was no vagabond. Ordinary as they come; clothes covered in ash from a day at Westbarrow. Ulysses Joinfellow, unmarried, age thirty-six. A loner by the looks of his complexion and social profile. We’re running the ID. He had twenty credits on him, unmarked.”“Remarkable Objects – Part One” at Medium.com – Read More
“Think he had a date?” guffawed a uniformed Whitegraft officer from the street side.
“With unmarked credits? Twenty credits wouldn’t impress anyone not already starving,” Aaran Coates growled skeptically and lifted the still-warm hand of the corpse, palm down on the cracked pavement. “But you won’t know for certain until you run his name through the local Relays for reservations.”
That’s it for now. I’ve got a lot of writing to do… so… yeah.
Ta for now!