I also write longer works; I always have one on the go, and have finished three or four depending on how you count it. I've been writing since I was seven, but I only started to take it seriously in 2006. Here are a few you can check out, in part or in full.
on Amazon.com. This was my first actual novel, and even though it's not up to my current standard, I still feel proud whenever I open it and read a page. You could buy it, or you could always read a preview.
Seventh Day. This is probably my favourite of my
finished works. It's a
60-page account of the life of the Apostle Paul, written in very poetic prose. It was a lot of fun to write, and I always love reading a fascinating biblical story. I have a number of missionary relatives who enjoy it, too. :)
A play in four acts. It's a tragedy, but I did aim to include some comedy. I like the dialogue and story, but I recognize its many faults; I intend to try another play next.
Cape Series. This is not an
example of my best work! It's just for fun. I hope you laugh as much as
I do when you read it. From the deranged mind of a seven-year-old with
a penchant for writing.
Rachel of the Fields. I finished this in January 2010, and am currently editing it to be published. I tried to
write it far from my comfort zone: it's a
first-person story from a teenage girl's perspective, raised in a
fairly normal home that suddenly plunges into dysfunction. Here's a short excerpt, chosen almost at random:
The days were getting warmer.
The nights were getting warmer.
I sneaked out one night and found, on the street, a payphone, like, the kind that take quarters.
Dial-dial-dial. Dial-dial-dial. Dial-dial-dial-dial.
I waited, dying of tension... who would pick up at home? Oh, Lord, what if they can track
payphones? Oh no, do I even WANT TO TALK TO MY FAMILY? No—no—too late—it rang—
“This is a long-distance call... please dial one or zero before the number and try again.”
And then I breathed out...
So do I call or not? How could I decide?
I breathed out... then I prayed... I prayed,... God, don’t make me so f---ing stupid that I dial.
“YEAAAAH? What the hell you want? The hell you calling in the middle of the night for?”
“Hello? If you don’t answer I’m going back to sleep,” the voice answered.
“OAF? OPHELIA IS THAT YOU?” I exploded into the phone, getting spit all over it.
“It’s Rachel, I’m here... Ophelia, you’re home? You’re home? Where are you?”
“You called home, stupid, so I’m guessing I’m home.” (Ophelia was being pissy.)
“Oaf, you don’t want to even know what kind of a world I’m in... heaven only knows...”
“Rachel, just take a cold shower—”
“NO! Listen! Is mum there? Is Frankie there?”