Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Favourite passages: THE TRAZ

Favourite passages: THE TRAZ - Book I The BackTracker Series 


Favourite passages are worth savoring which is why I enjoy the highlighting and commenting features of my Kindle. As delightful as it is to find powerful scenes in the books I’m reading, that joy is doubled when I write a great passage.

 Whether it be an emotional piece or a clever one, an intensely realistic scene or one that surprises, a moving passage sings to me, speaks to me, changes me forever.

Sometimes I work hard to write an intense scene that I know is important to my story. I re-write, rearrange, revisit and do it all over again. However, sometimes moving passages arrive on the breath of the muses, just plant themselves on the page as if preordained to be there.

That’s how my favourite passage in my debut novel THE TRAZ Book 1 in the BackTracker series came to be. So powerful is this scene it is referred to at least once in every consecutive book in the series. This is the passage where little Katrina makes a decision that will haunt her forever…
 Shrug started to speak but when he caught the look in her eyes, he stopped short. A long silence passed between them before he picked up his coffee cup and drained it. He set the cup down. "Wanna ride?" he asked, motioning his head toward the Harley.

Another favourite scene of mine occurs later in THE TRAZ when Katrina disassociates herself from reality following a traumatic event. Although the muses gifted me the scene visually complete with emotions, they did not give me the words. This scene hung over me dark and heavy for several days until I was able to put the proper words to it. 
Her heart beat slower; she wished she could make it stop. She wished… There was a long period of absolutely nothing and then she heard the ticking of the clock and the humming of the fridge. They were such loud sounds within the prevailing quiet. Was it two days ago or two weeks ago that she'd closed her eyes in that far away metal shed on the cold prairie? She didn't know. Couldn't remember. But for the first time since then, she opened her eyes. Black shadows were merging with grey in the half-light that marked the late hours of a November afternoon. The rustle of the blanket as she flung it off her shoulders rasped in her ears. She set her feet on the floor. For a long time she sat motionless, grasping for a shard of reality in the strange and artificial world greeting her. She did not know who she was, where she was, or why…

Eileen Schuh, Author

Schrödinger's Cat

No comments: