Connor Writes A Novel

In which Connor, to prepare for the workload of his upcoming Master's degree, attempts to write a novel in a month…

Day Twenty-One

She picked at the fingernails on one hand with the other nervously. “All I know is that there are plenty of people in Fisherman’s Creek who earnestly believe that there’s a… a monster living in the creek. Which would be the danger that woman mentioned.” Carter sat in rapt silence...


Day Twenty

Joseph was staring into the distance. His mind burned hot with memories barely suppressed. It almost hurt. He remembered ghostly grey trees, and thick river mud tugging at his shoes. He remembered sitting in their hastily-constructed shelter, and watching as Gavin took his turn drinking from the creek. He remembered hearing the echoes of his father’s ghost stories – stories about the creek, and sinners, and judgement, and the Fisher...

Day Nineteen

Author's note: Apologies for the delay. Something came up and I was unable to complete my 1667 words yesterday. Not to worry though - I had built up a buffer of roughly a day's worth of words for this very eventuality, so in terms of word count I am still on track to finish the book by the end of the month! Lost my buffer though, so it's a bit more tense from here on out!

Day Eighteen

He tried to pull the figure above the waterline, but out of the water it was incredibly heavy, entirely dead weight. He lifted it as far out of the water as he could, and began paddling for the shore. His progress, carrying the figure on his back, was painfully slow. His arms quickly began to tire, and his face dipped closer and closer to the waterline. Soon he couldn’t even keep his mouth above the water...

Day Seventeen

When Gwen finally left, it was almost three in the morning. Carter shut off the Wanderer’s lights and headed upstairs, practically dragging his feet with exhaustion. He tumbled into bed, and just lay there on top of the covers for a moment, eyes closed, listening to the Wanderer settling around him...

Day Sixteen

Carter poured himself another glass of water, and raised it high in a toast. “That works.” Gwen tapped his glass with her own, and they lapsed into silence again, the only sound in the Wanderer the hum of its fridges and the music coming from Gwen’s phone...

Day Fifteen

Author's note: Today marks the halfway point of the book! I'd like to thank everyone who has been following me so far. It's all downhill from here... right?

Day Fourteen

It was a somber day at the Wanderer. Carter had well and truly ceased to be a novelty, now that there were two missing boys to occupy the town’s attention. The Wanderer was practically empty. Carter assumed every able bodied person was either at work or out looking for the boys. Henry was constantly fielding phone calls and calling out updates to himself and Gwen. The boys hadn’t yet been found. It was almost three in the afternoon. The boys had been missing for over twenty-four hours now. There was an unspoken acceptance hanging in the air in Fisherman’s Creek – they were almost certainly no longer looking for two living boys.

Day Thirteen

“Will we be working tomorrow?” Henry nodded, and opened the door. He went and unlocked the doors of the Wanderer for Carter. “Sadly, I can’t afford to keep the Wanderer closed that long. Depending how busy we get, one of us might be able to duck out to go help look for those boys – probably me or Gwen. We’ll sort it out. Try and get some sleep.”

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