Exactly a week ago I started a new draft of a new novel , a psychological thriller, in which a group of students move into a house where a tragedy occurred ten years earlier. In the story, the past comes to have an effect on the present, leading to mounting danger and confusion for central character Gavin and his friends.
In the initial planning, I tried a demo free novel writing software program, but I found, as I have many times before, that these programs don’t get rid of writer’s block or help with plot progression (the question of what comes next), as the programs can’t actually write the novel. The programs are fine for planning the story and organising scenes/chapters, but only the author can write the story. Once I decided exactly what I wanted to convey, the story came naturally to me.
That night, I woke with a jolt, my heart hammering in my chest. I’d been dreaming about Aidan again and something scary had happened on the landing, but I couldn’t remember what. Silence pressed in, tangible and sticky and laden with anticipation. I heard creaking on the stairs, then nothing.
I must have fallen asleep again, for suddenly I was awake once more, my heart pounding like before. I sat up on the mattress. Dawn, Philippa and Veronica were knocking on my bedroom door, calling my name, their voices full of urgency.
Meanwhile my debut novel, Secrets by Lawrence Estrey, is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.