Thursday, January 13, 2011

Genre Corretion

This is a historic romance


Old Maids Knit
The clock, the old man eyes it sardonically. "Not particularly keen, eh? He's just not the marrying kind." The old boy winks.
*
His cronies, seated around the tea table, chuckle as he baits the hook. The mentally agile old angler enjoys his sport. His words have cunningly lucked his prey. Now like a true sportsman he watches and waits to reel in his catch.
*
"Oh, Father, how could you?" Clutching her knitting she flees from the parlor. She will not remain with such creatures. Tripping on her hem in her haste she hurries upstairs to her bedroom sanctuary. Dark images of her future race through her head--there she is an old maid encircled by scores upon socres of cats while she knits and rocks.
*
Where is my rescuer, my knight in shining armor? How could he be so cruel! How could he be so mean! What a fool I am to tie myself eternally, erroneously to an uncaring foolish man. Forever...forever am I doomed? She swoons into darkness.
*
But wait, a gentle knock upon her door recalls her to sensibility.
*
"Excuse me, miss." It is Bridget the dutiful housemaid. "A young gentleman has called to inquire if you are at home, miss?"
*
"The gal! He makes me wait and then when he appears I should run to him? The gall!" she mutters. She confronts Bridget, "Oh is he?"
*
"Yes, miss."
*
"Well, tell him I'm out."
*
"If you wish, miss."
*
"I do wish."
*
"The young gentleman will be most disappointed, miss."
*
"I care not."
*
"The young gentleman said he wishes to discuss an important matter, miss."
*
"Fine, show him to the conservatory. I will be down presently."
*
She sits in front of the mirror. I must steady myself; I must not weaken. Viewing her reflection she tidies her mussed strawberry blonde pompadour and squeezes her pale cheeks. Nerves somewhat calmed she gracefully floats down the staircase to attend to Mr. Beaumont. With all the strength she can muster, she enters the conservatory. There he stands so handsome he takes her breath away.
*
"Miss Whiting." He bows reaching for her hand and kisses it gallantly. "Sweets for the sweet, m'lady." He hands Emily a box of chocolates. His baritone voice causes her heart to race.
*
Bridget curtseys and temporarily withdraws.
*
"Mr. Beaumont, please join me by the fire."
*
"As you wish, m'lady."
*
Two would-be lovers sit by the fire. His hands are secure draped by a skein of yarn, she busies herself winding.
*
"I am told you have something of importance to discuss."
*
"And so I have. I have discussed this matter with your father. He has given his consent."
*
"How nice for both of you."
*
"Emily, your beauty has captivated me. Your grace has enchanted me." He carefully lays the skein on the arm of his chair. "I find, each night, images of you wake me.: He reaches for her hand. "I find I cannot live without you." He kneels. "Please do me the honour of joining your heart with mine in holy matrimony."
*
The ball of yarn dances across the floor as they embrace.
*
Later, alone, as Emily reflects on the events of the day from her favourite knitting chair, she muses, Father must of known of Mr. Beaumont's intent all along. Oh, how Father loves to tease. She chuckles contently.
*
This is a paranormal thriller...

Sometimes genres, categories, labels are helpful.
*
When I looked like this...

I was a knitwear designer who wrote.
*
Today...

I'm an author who knits.
*
Moving forward, I've made changes in my office and on my website. Log on to www.oknitting.com and you'll discover an absence. I've removed all my patterns and closed Olavia's Hand-knitting patterns.
*
Why?
*
Picture yourself going for walk. As you walk, you think Wouldn't it be nice to walk three miles today.
*
It's a beautiful day, the sun is warm and along the trail there are vibrant flowers. You stop to smell each, every couple of steps.
*
Soon, the sun begins to go down and you relucantly realize that you must head home. You haven't reached your goal--you haven't walked three miles.
*
Why?
*

It was just a thought--it wasn't a clear intent.
*
Establishing my writing career is my clear intent.
*
What else did I do yesterday?
*
Well, I finished this...

My first baby sweater for ArtCraft. (ArtCraft is a gallery on Salt Spring Island that is open each year from June to September.)
*
I'm an author who knits. : )
*
Next post: Author Sarah Ballance visits
*
Please visit Maureen O. Betita on Daily Dose of Decadence
*

Friday: I will be visiting Bri Clark blog

*
Sunday: I will be participating in Six Sentences Sunday. I will be sharing more of The Sweater Curse sequel.

No comments: