My Own Work

One of my many goal's for this year is to find a literary agent or a publisher. Considering my age and experience this however seems to be a far stretch... I have only finished my first book and generally you have to get rejected for several novels before you would have a chance.

This blog was one was I had planned to gain a greater scope in my writing (and who knows... maybe develop a fan base?). I have also realized that, considering I am use to the endless praise of friends and family I might not yet be ready for the rejection of my work. Here is a selection of some of my work... I encourage anyone interested to please read and leave your thoughts.

This is an interrogation scene between the villain Mercury and one of the hero's Danny... It is a Sci-Fi with corrupt business and genetic manipulation... the basic stuff.

“They got away.”

“What?” Mercury asked into her cell phone.

“They lost the tracker down the drain.” She tried to control herself, the rage filled her quiet words that slashed into the agents ear’s as though she shouted.

“Fine, we can fix this. Keep looking for them, and don’t call me until you have something.” Agent Mercury hang up and held the phone shaking in her hand for a few seconds before slamming down the phone onto the table, breaking it into several pieces. She took a minute to regain her self, she couldn't afford to appear in disarray in front of a prisoner, her years as top agent had taught her to act, to be powerful and in control when you were furious and distracted. She had a look through the one sided mirror that was the focus of the small room, and then walked through the door into the white room which was filled with a brilliant light that bounced off the tiles that covered the room.

Daniel sat tired to a chair in the middle of the room; his eyes were closed and his forehead was creased with lines, he was trying to relax, he focused on his breathing and tried to ignore the pain running through his head. “You can hear it can’t you? It’s a sound only animals can hear.” She said patronizingly, Danny’s eyebrows furrowed further into his forehead, he felt her poisoning the air itself with the malice that dripped from every word. “You remember how loud it can get, and at the moment it’s your choice of the volume. It can get better or worse.” With that her hand slowly turned a control; Danny opened his eyes and blinked in surprise. It had stopped. “

Better or worse.” She yanked the control in the opposite direction Daniel started to scream. He thrashed back and forth on his chair but it was bolted down. His yell was blood curdling, but Mercury just smiled. Slowly she turned the switch off and Danny sat still his eyes watering from the pain. “Silence, isn’t it golden? You can have silence all the time. Just tell us what we want to know, or everything you hear will be that. It won’t kill you, but you’ll hear it every day for however long it takes you to tell us what we want to know, and you will tell us. I’ll leave you to think about it,” she said slowly, she walked out of there and left.

“Start playing it at random moments, for different lengths,” she ordered to the man who was sitting behind the one sided mirror at the controls, he was pale and sickly. “And if you can’t handle it, I’ll be happy to put you in a different post, room thirteen perhaps?” She threatened and the technician gave a wary nod.

(Copywrite 2005 Clare Belshaw)

This was an idea for an English Extension creative piece... we studied Revenge Tragedy, there is a large focus on the Christian values and the search for justice in an unjust society.

Venice 1596

Count Retaltor felt the crispness of the night captured in the stain glass window as he rested his hands across the image of the Virgin Mary. He lent in close, his heated breath foaming against the painted red fabric, the glass blurred his vision slightly but he could still make out the curves of her voluptuous body as she slowly removed her nuns rob’s. Inquisitor Malevol, the high inquisitors personal assistant strode up to her and pulled her close. Retaltor felt his anger and hate rise as he watched Malevol defile another nun in the sanctuary of the church, he felt the temperature drop further as the first drops of rain started to fall onto the city, filling the canals. Despite the frosty downpour his rage pumped heat through his body and he stood still as the crucifix that guarded the entry, as he watched Malevol desecrate the church and its assets.

Retaltor curled his hand into a fist, the depraved couple knocked over a candle and the light shone through the window casting the light of Mary onto the street and onto Retaltor, as they finished and Malevol dressed into his inquisitors robes before slinking out into the night, the snake leaving the tricked and sinful Eve, Retaltor knew what he must do he crossed himself and asked for strength. He walked into the room as she tried desperately to cover herself, her skin still glistening with sinful sweat. He picked up the heavy crucifix that stood on the mantle, he bought it down across her head with as much force as when he threw her lifeless body into the watery canals, he properly dressed her in her nun’s clothes, Retaltor gave her the final rights and watched the body sink down into the endless black water. The dawn started to creep over the terracotta roof tiles, blazing with, what Retaltor believed to be, God’s sanction of his act.

Retaltor returned to his own room and carefully removed his noble wig, pushing his hands over his bare skull, he saw he had left his candle burning through the night and quickly doused the dwindling flame. God’s sun would provide his light just as it would prepare him for the removal of the sinful inquisitor from the city of Venice, from God’s world, leave him to be judge by the holy and divine. For only the almighty had the power to dispense judgement, and he had chosen Retaltor for the task of giving the lords retribution for sins, Retaltor felt his chest heavy with his dark task, for killing an inquisitor would surly lead to his own execution, but if that is the price that God demands for Malevol’s sin then Retaltor would pin himself to the cross. The streets must be cleansed through the sinner’s blood.

(Copywrite 2007 Clare Belshaw)

This was another English Extension piece... an interior monologue with Jacobean values, it was very annoying to try and write from such a sexist persona, however I think I manage it.

Upon my honour, upon my place in heaven by my ancestor’s side I shall have vengeance.

The evil I bring will eclipse the sun; the moon shall burn red with blood.
To accept this treachery would be to dishonour my beloved sister, whose virtue pure as the new winter snow was defiled by the rat, the cad.
The heavens have not created enough insults to do his evil justice.
My pure sister, the morning blossom, still trembling with the morning dew, plucked and peeled.

I shall avenge you.

With all the hosts of heaven as my witness I swear his black blood will stain the earth where you body lies, O crushed blossom.
You were so pure, I could not live seeing you defiled such, although your blood is on my hands, your death upon his head.

May the earth give you rest, may the catacombs of dirt in which you lie blanket you. Lie still, and know that your brother will avenge you.
I shall make him pay for all the evil he has caused.
I shall find a way to inflict the same torture he has inflicted on you, his honour shall suffer as yours did.
His pride will be torn from him, his place in society will be stripped from him and once he is brought to the lowest rung, once he can not lift his head I shall strike the final blow.
I shall wash away your blood with the thick sludge of his, may my hands always be blackened by his polluting blood as it spills so that all heaven and hell can tell I destroyed him.

And may your pure soul, my blossom, be forever safe in the knowledge that your honour has been avenged.
He who played upon your naivety, tricked your emotional heart to believe a false love.
I know sister you are sorry for what you said to me, sorry you allowed a snake in your garden.
Don’t worry a female mind is often swayed by shallow lines of love and faithfulness.
I shall not hold that against you, I shall avenge you all the more for your naivety.

After all, the blood on my hands is the same as in my veins.

(Copywrite 2007 Clare Belshaw)

I hope you enjoyed a snippit of my writting