Jackie Keswick's Blog: Musings & Meanderings - Posts Tagged "repeat-offence"

Some stories creep up on me. They offer me a glimpse of something exciting like a moor spirit flitting across a swamp pretending to illuminate a path. If I’m foolish enough to follow where it leads, chances are equal that I’ll end up on dry ground with a finished book in my hands, or mired hip-deep in a mix of emotions and images that I can’t make sense of.

Repeat Offence, the story of warriors Hiro and Taz, was one of those.

It started with a simple question: Is it still suicide if your death saves thousands of people? And from there grew a story of self-sacrifice and stubbornness that defeated a law Taz and Hiro didn’t even know existed when they went on a midnight raid to end a war.

I hugely enjoyed writing Repeat Offence. And I still like the world I built, even though I sometimes wonder if I could have made more of Taz and Hiro’s story.

But had I added to the story as I heard it, it might have ended up mired in the swamp and on the pile of unfinished stories.

My upcoming release, A Box of Wishes, almost suffered this fate.

It started life as a short Christmas story full of hope and warmth and the scents of coffee and chocolate. But when I had the grand idea to expand it a little to give its heroes, Ryan and Ben, a proper happy ending, I suddenly found myself wondering about the difference between a place to sleep, and a real home

On the face of it, Ryan and Ben are well suited to each other. Ben, the police detective, is a quiet, steady, steadfast protector. Ryan, the coffee house owner, is an outgoing people person, who gets the most joy in this life from looking out for others.

But my nice, soft, fluffy, antidote-to-the-pandemic love story had unexpected depths. I hadn’t known how Ben, the protector, would react to betrayal. I hadn’t known that Ryan, the caretaker, had scars that went a long way into his past. And I certainly hadn’t anticipated, at least not until I put them into this situation, that those two men, who seemed so ideally suited to each other, had sides to their personalities that made bringing them together like lighting a fire under a powder keg.

Ben and Ryan’s story could have gone in four different ways, and it took me quite a while to work out what story I was actually writing. Holding on to the heart-warming hopefulness of the short story was difficult when faced with ever-increasing mortality figures and political and financial upheavals of the pandemic.

I didn’t want to abandon A Box of Wishes. Even after its fourth iteration, I still loved the characters when they were at their best, and I was trying hard to bring the ends of the story together in a way that kept hold of that warmth the two men have between them.

In the end, I realised that it’s not about where you live and what you do, because a true home requires neither walls nor beams. Just as all the walls and beams in the world will not make a home if the space they enclose is devoid of hopes and dreams.

Am I done with this story? Yes, finally! For the most part, writing A Box of Wishes has been a wonderful journey of discovery. For a while here and there, it’s been a slog. But helping Ben and Ryan to find a home together? That’s always been worth the effort.

A Box of Wishes will be available from my store on October 20th. Lock in your early bird discount by pre-ordering now!

In today’s Sunday Snippet, we’re with Taz and Hiro, the two warriors sentenced to spend eternity on different planes, unless they manage to meet at the exact moment one of them dies. Over many lifetimes, they become experts at making death a drawn-out production to give each other a chance, but that isn’t as easy as it sounds…

Water splashed over the prow of the boat and the cold made me gasp. The craft rocked in the suddenly roiling waters, forcing me to brace myself against the sides. The Gu-Chian was too wide for bridges for most of its course, and swollen to capacity during the rainy season. My little boat had drifted with the current, but now it was picking up speed.

I scanned the expanse of water for obstructions and searched the banks for a clue for the growing pace. There was nothing. Just water with the occasional ripple, a wide stretch of meadow on either bank, and then woods beyond. As the wind blew the rain clouds towards the south, the sky overhead lightened from dark grey to the palest of blues—and then I saw it: a thin haze veiling the horizon, like a layer of mist on the water.

The falls that marked the border between Hestorand and neighbouring Sakkad were fearsome, regardless which side one observed them from. The Gu-Chian’s glassy waters rushed over the edge of a dizzying drop in foaming swirls and eddies until they hammered against the rocks in a wide, deep cauldron where the torrent whisked water into a mix of foam and spray.

And I was headed for the roaring chaos in a small wooden craft without oars or a rudder.

“The falls, Hiro.” My voice was oddly breathless. “The Gu-Chian Falls! Gods, that one never occurred to me. How do you rate my chances of arriving in Sakkad in one piece?”

I crawled into the bow and peered over the edge. The river’s surface reflected the pale blue of the skies. A handspan deeper, the water was murky, heavy with silt and small stones. There’d be larger stones, too, dragged along the riverbed by the force of the current. They’d smash the boat to splinters long before it reached the bottom of the falls. And me with it, unless I wanted to try swimming.

“The gods gave us our minds, so we can change them,” I told Hiro. Only hours earlier, I’d been disappointed that Hestorand’s queen was denying me the death I’d prepared myself for. Now, faced with another chance, I found myself reluctant to give up my life.

I tested the current with the dagger and my fingertips and judged it too strong to swim, bruised and battered as I was.

“Unless I want to throw myself into the driver and drown before I reach the falls, I’ll have to stay with the boat. And hope you’ll make it before I’m dashed against the rocks. I’ll tell you one thing, Hiro: when you prepare yourself to die by fire, being faced with a watery death is… disconcerting.”

Today’s Sunday Snippet story, Repeat Offence, is available from
my store
and all other bookstores.

Time for a Sunday Snippet – and this one comes with a hefty dose of adrenaline. Imagine yourself trapped in a tiny wooden boat. You have no oars, and no way to steer while the river carries you – at ever-increasing speed – towards one of the world’s tallest and most powerful waterfalls.

You know that – in principle – your soulmate should be watching over you from another plane, but is he really? And what can he actually do?

Read today’s Sunday Snippet to find out.

I took another deep breath, pictured blue eyes and golden hair.

“Hiro!” I yelled his name as the current carried me over the edge.

Then I was falling.

The boat jolted and jumped, thrown this way and that by the air billowing up from the base of the falls. I clung to the sides, knuckles white, waiting to see water and death rushing towards me.

They never did.

The current shoved rocks over the edge of the falls along with the torrent of white, swirling waters. But not a single one hit the delicate wooden shell I clutched with white knuckles.

I’d expected the boat to go down bow first, but it stayed level, descending through spray and mist in stuttering jerks that made my stomach heave, until it settled back in the river with a splash that drenched every part of me that wasn’t soaked already.

I’d gone over the Gu-Chian Falls in a tiny wooden craft, and the only thing I had to show for the experience was… nausea?

I pried my fingers from the sides and fell backwards onto the planking, incredulous. My breath came in great, heaving gulps, and my body shook with the terror I’d had no time to feel. Beyond the fear and relief, bright, shining elation waited to claim me. I no longer doubted that Hiro watched over me while I was human.

Now I was certain.

Today’s Sunday Snippet story, Repeat Offence, is ON SALE in my store right now!