If you are new here you will notice the name of my blog. Yes, I am a reluctant author. Why you ask? It is because I am insecure and it seems like I am not alone. I found this weekly group through another author friend, Diana Wilder, and I am happy that I did.
It seems that IWSG blog and website is just what the doctor ordered. Especially now that my first draft is in the hands of BETA readers! Yes, I said my completed first draft! I got off my duff and finally finished it. But wait...it's not The Beautiful Woman Has Come nor is it Unquiet My Heart, the completed draft is of the prequel to The Beautiful Woman Has Come and I don't have a title for it yet, which is driving me crazy.
I sure could use some help there. You see, it is about Helen of Sparta and Paris, my version of the story. I am going to slip in a little snip here so that you can get an idea of the direction I am going with the story.
So for all those insecure writers out there...just keep plugging and chugging and don't let the nay sayers get you down!
Have a wonderful Wednesday!
Helen and Paris (Working Title) copyright 2014 all rights reserved by Debra Giuffrida
“Well, that is the end of this adventure, shepherd boy, let us prepare to depart on the next outgoing tide. Father will be glad to see us return.” Hector was watching gulls circle and dive, their bodies white against the crisp blue Spartan sky. His feelings of unease caused him to frown and set his jaw as he scanned the horizon.
“But why, brother?” Paris walked up behind his elder brother who turned to face him. “Menelaus wants us to stay, doesn’t he? We are like family, yes?”
Hector snorted through his nose.
“That, that speech he made to us before all his generals and toadies?” Hector snorted again and grabbed his brother’s shoulder giving it a squeeze. “That was all show and bluster, shepherd boy. The Great King Menelaus no more wanted us for sons than he wanted his balls to burst.”
Paris snickered.
“Don’t laugh, we need to leave here. This place makes my skin crawl. We are watched everywhere we go. I for one have no love for this Sparta.” Hector clapped his brother on the back. “So, tell me, shepherd boy, why do you want to stay among these people? You are nothing here but one more toady of the Great Kings, but in Illion you are son of the High King, Prince among men.” Hector let the question hang between them waiting for his brother’s reply.
After several pregnant moments Paris turned from his brothers scrutiny and rested his palms on the shelf of the open window.
“I had a vision, or something like that.” Paris waved a hand. He turned to face Hector. “It was before the banquet. I found myself among the gods, brother.”
“How is that possible? You were drunk, you were...”
“No,” Paris said shaking his head. “No wine or beer passed my lips. One moment I was watching the pleasure slaves in the agora and the next I was lying on my back staring up at three goddesses.”
When Hector did not say anything Paris continued his story.
“The air around me shimmered and the ground beneath me moved. They were beautiful beyond compare. And, and, they wanted me to settle an argument between them. Me, just newly come Prince of Illion, me, they wanted me to choose who was the fairest among them. Aphrodite, Athena and the great Hera. How could I choose?”
“Truly, brother, this happened? It was not some wine soaked dream?” Hector knit his brows, his lips pressed into a straight line and he crossed his arms over his chest.
“No, I mean, yes it happened, Hector, believe me. The mighty Hera helped me to my feet and there in the olive grove of Mount Olympus I chose Aphrodite to be the fairest among them!” Paris grabbed his brothers arm. “She gave me a prize, brother. She promised me the most beautiful women in the world and I saw her. She is here, here in Sparta.”
Hector snorted and yanked his arm from his brothers grasp. Shaking his head he sighed.
“So, who is she, this prize?”
“Helen, Queen of Sparta.”
Happy writing!
