A snippet from my debut novel that I'm working. If my work interests you, kindly consider following me to support my writing ๐ซถ
we're not kids anymore.
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Product Placement
art blog(derogatory)
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kaledo Art

โฃ Chile in a Photography โฃ
will byers stan first human second

blake kathryn

Kiana Khansmith
taylor price
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Misplaced Lens Cap
noise dept.
trying on a metaphor

Love Begins
Sweet Seals For You, Always
styofa doing anything
seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from Netherlands
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Germany

seen from Iraq

seen from Tรผrkiye
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Colombia
@mystheria
A snippet from my debut novel that I'm working. If my work interests you, kindly consider following me to support my writing ๐ซถ
Hey there ๐ This is a small blurb from my wip. It's from my debut novel.
I'll keep trying to post scenes from my writing as frequently as I can. I also post on Snipfic regularly, please do consider reaching out there too! I opened this account with the understanding that to write a book also means to market it, and I'm trying. I'm also learning. By no means am I an accomplished writer, I'm learning and I am open to any suggestions. And if you're someone like me and can relate, reach out. Let's build a community. The title is linked with my snipfic account.
Sorry for the ramble and thank you ๐ซถ
To add some background, the boy, "Staney" has a rough childhood. This scene is a memory from his past, an inciting incident. And "Gabriel" is his incident.
Memories
โI see you,โ Gabriel said. 'What does he see?โ
When seven-year-old Staney stared at the mirror in his new mansion of two years, all he saw was someone wearing clothes that werenโt meant for him, too skinny, and too dark for his new hostile surroundings. When he was twelve, on a cold Friday, he saw the lines of his ribs and the shadowy dark purple bruises on his stomach. On his sixteenth birthday, his mother saw her husbandโs face and in the reflection of her eyes, he saw a love that held her captive and the curdling hatred she held for her son. But he didnโt see him, in the mirror, in her eyes, not even in the still gutter of the alleyway.
A snippet from my debut novel that I'm working. If my work interests you, kindly consider following me to support my writing ๐ซถ