Ned Hayes's Blog, page 155
September 2, 2013
"I swim desperately upward as falling ice shudders over me. I...
"I swim desperately upward as falling ice shudders over me. I struggle to breathe, thrusting my face toward a tiny dot of light. My limbs are encased in frost, and it clots tight around me. I beat my bloody fists against soft and suffocating walls until my eyes close dark in dream."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
September 1, 2013
Book Review Podcast: Author Interview on BOOKNOTE Ned Hayes,...
Book Review Podcast: Author Interview on BOOKNOTE
Ned Hayes, author of new novel Coeur d’Alene Waters
(2013, Prospero Book Group)
“I tear at his fingers. I can see into the crack between...
“I tear at his fingers. I can see into the crack between the floes now. The water is deep, it whips between the icy cakes like a black and steaming snake. I scrabble my feet helplessly against the ice. The river roars, a ravenous dark mouth.” - Sinful Folk
A picture from Intrepidation on Flickr (“not quite cold enough”)
Fits how I see the river scene (chapter 26) in the forthcoming novel Sinful Folk.
Wintry, cold, wet, and icy.
August 31, 2013
"The daylight ebbs into the snow. Above us the swallows rustle...
"The daylight ebbs into the snow. Above us the swallows rustle and nest. After the sun goes, there is nothing left here in this dark room but faces ruddy in the light of the flames. As the smoke comes out of the chimney of this little fallen house, I can again see Nell upon the little forest way beside her croft, the stones patterned with petals and cedar boughs, scented with the lavender and mint she planted with her own hands."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
"Let the world burn through you. Throw the prism light, white hot, on paper."
- Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing (via)
August 30, 2013
"The room is round and full of light. The fire has a screen, and...
"The room is round and full of light. The fire has a screen, and through narrow metal holes, carved in cunning shapes, comes a rosy glow. Rushlights burn on each wall, beside tapestries that cover windows against the cold. The tapestries here remind me of Nell’s neat croft, the arch she added to the door, and the glowing oilcloth across the holes in her walls. Like a tiny hall of a Lady or Lord, a woodland nobility. As if a queen lived there."
— from the novel Sinful Folk
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of..."
-
Chapter 1 - The Period, A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens (via livelifewithrecklessabandon)
First published 30 August 1859
August 29, 2013
"Cold tears as salty as ocean spray wet my face. I remember my...
"Cold tears as salty as ocean spray wet my face. I remember my mother’s death.
The day before she died, my mother did something I still don’t understand. She took me out in our little fishing boat, out on the open water of the sea—the thrum and hiss of surf upon the shore behind us, the rhythm never ceasing.
My mother waited until we were out of sight of land. She squinted against the bright sunlight, making sure we were alone. And then she taught me something: strange words in a foreign tongue, a lilting singsong cadence to it….. secret words I was never to share.
Afterwards, my mother rowed us back, the waves lifting and catching us as I whispered the words in cadence. The boat slipped through the last breakers and came toward the beach, and my mother leaned close to me, kissed me on the forehead.
“Never forget who you truly are, but never tell a living soul.” “
— from the novel Sinful Folk
