An excerpt from A Desperate Journey
Current mood: happy
Category: Writing and Poetry

An excerpt from
A Desperate Journey

Copyright © 2008 Debra Parmley
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Rob went inside to look for the ferry driver and came back out. "He's too drunk to take anyone across tonight. He's passed out. There are extra beds. We can settle with him in the morning."

Sally settled Carolyn into the bunk nearest the fire. On the other side of the fireplace, the ferryman sat, tipped back in his chair, his jaw hanging open as he kept up a steady snore. The jug in his hand rested on his thigh, while his hat threatened to fall off his bobbing head.

"It's stinky here, Mama," Carolyn said.

"Yes, sunshine, I know." Sally's nose twitched. "Roll onto your side facing the other way and it won't be so bad." She smoothed Carolyn's hair. "Go on to sleep."

Soon her daughter was sleeping soundly. Moss and Rob had settled the animals for the night and stoked the fire, and Sally slid into bed beside Carolyn. Rob and Moss took the bunk against the wall, Moss still muttering under his breath about his wagon and being charged for a full team he didn't even have.

"Hell, old man. I'd pay you just to shut up," Rob said. "First sunlight I aim to be up and crossing that river."

The room fell silent and Sally curled onto her side away from the men with a smile as she hugged Carolyn close.

The next morning, Sally had just fixed the coffee and was starting the bacon when the ferryman woke.

"Well, damn my eyes if it ain't an angel come to save me," the man roared as he stood with a lurch.

Sally jumped and took a step back.

"Ain't you the purtiest thing," he said with a leer.

She smiled nervously, not wanting to anger him.

Rob chose that moment to enter the store. "Morning. It's about time you were awake. Name's Rob."

"Fletcher, but you can call me Fletch."

"We need to buy passage across the river."

The ferryman's gaze drifted back toward Sally. "Cain't take you across." He shook his head. "Not for another two weeks."

"Why the hell not?"

"Water's running too high." Fletch stepped behind Sally. "That bacon sure does smell good." He peered over her shoulder. "You smell mighty good too."

"That's it." Rob's voice hardened.

Sally heard the cock of a gun and turned.

Rob stood with his gun pressed to Fletcher's head.

"I think you'll be taking us across. You'll be taking us across today." He jerked his head. "Sally, get your things."

"Ye heard the man," Moss argued. "That water is too fast, too high."

"We're going now." His tone brooked no argument.

"Ain't we goin' ter eat first?" Moss persisted.

"Lost my appetite." Rob's jaw clenched and he nudged Fletch with his gun. "Now move."

Sally watched Rob force the ferryman out the door and her hands shook as she gathered their things. "Carolyn, you stay away from those men and do as I tell you."

"Yes, Mama."

Even her bubbly daughter was subdued by the force Rob had brought into the store. And just when she'd begun to relax around him.

But he was no better than Luke. He was just another man who would use force to get what he wanted. And men like that were dangerous.

Sally reached for Carolyn's hand while they silently watched the men load the ferry. Rob stood atop the bank with his hand on his gun as Moss began to coax the mules up the dock and onto the ferry.

"You better pay me double like you said," Fletcher shouted to Rob.

The coolness and steel in Rob's reply made Sally shiver. "You'll get your money when we're on the other side."

"Stupid cowboys," Fletch muttered with a frown. "Water's too high."

Rob's expression did not change, yet Sally knew he'd heard the man.

"Get them mules on up in front, just them two," Fletcher directed Moss, as he squinted against the sun. "Get 'em up on that hitching post."

Moss hitched the first two with a grumble.

"Now them other two in the middle." Fletcher frowned. "And keep them calm. I don't want no animals giving me trouble."

"Don't ye worry none about my mules." Moss hitched the other two. "I know my business good as you know yourn."

Rob led his horse up the ramp next. As Moss took the reigns from him he said, "I hope like hell you know what you're doing."

Rob merely grunted.

Finally Fletcher called to Sally, "Come on, little lady, you get on over here by me." He held out his hand to her.

Though Rob's eyes narrowed, he said nothing, just continued to stand with his hand on his gun as he watched them.

Sally lifted Carolyn up to Moss and reached for Fletcher's hand. Though he was behaving like a gentleman now, his bloodshot eyes took her in. "That's it," he said as he helped her onto the ferry, his sour-whiskey breath making her wish she could hold her nose. His hand was raspy, rough and strong.

She waited till he turned away to push off from the bank to wipe her hand on her dress.

The ferryman grabbed a pole and gave a shove off the bank.

Moss squinted at him when he turned back around. "I 'spose ye expect me to hep ye."

"One of you has to. I let my men off for two weeks till this river is ready to cross, and they'll be at the nearest saloon till I send for them."

They both glanced at Rob who stood by his horse, his right hand never far from his gun. He'd just displayed how fast he was with it.

"It's gonna be hell to get this ferry back across the river by myself." Fletcher grabbed the rope and began walking hand over hand down the length of the ferry.

Though the ride was smooth at first, Sally eyed the rushing waters into the middle of the river and wondered what would happen when they reached it. From the glances of the men, they were wondering the same thing. This did not reassure her.


Carolyn stood with Sally in the middle where it was most stable. She bounced up and down with excitement.

Sally gripped Carolyn's shoulders. "Stand still."

"Ma'am, you got to control your child," Fletcher said as he continued working the ropes.

Sally looked down at the cold, dark, swiftly flowing water, remembering with a shiver of panic that neither she nor Carolyn could swim.

"Carolyn, sit down."

Her daughter obeyed and Sally looked for something to hold onto. The ferry didn't feel so sturdy as it began to creak and shift with the water becoming steadily rougher. Sally's knees shook as her thoughts ran with the dark and dangerous river. The creaking grew louder as the mules shuffled and shifted their hooves.

The whites of their eyes rolled in fear when the boards of the ferry began to moan and groan. They didn't like this raft any more than she did. She briefly touched the brooch at her neck and reached out to balance herself against a mule.

"I told you this river was too fast," Fletch growled at Rob as the creaking and groaning grew louder and the river shook the ferry.

They were three quarters of the way across and the ropes were straining as Fletcher and Moss strained to pull them across.

Crack!

The rear guide post holding the guide ropes snapped in two.

"Son of a bitch!" Fletcher dropped to the floor of the ferry, holding on, just as the ferry flipped around, lurching and twisting as if it were playing crack the whip.

Carolyn and Sally screamed.

"Damn it! Sally, hold on!" Rob shouted.

The mules brayed and his horse whinnied. The horse and mules struggled against their ropes and the strain snapped the hitching post in half. One mule jumped off into the water, making the ferry tip even more.

"Dang nab it, Critter!" Moss turned and shouted.

His favorite mule was swimming toward shore with all the gear on its back while a second mule followed. At the same time, a third fell onto its hindquarters braying and Moss caught hold of it, fighting to get it under control. The fourth kicked back and Rob's horse, which had been dancing in fear, fell into the water along with the fourth mule. The commotion tipped the ferry, flinging them all into the water, except for Fletcher who clung to the one remaining pole, cursing all the while.


"Mama!" Carolyn screamed as she was flung from Sally's arms.

"Carolyn!" Sally shouted. Raw panic seized her as the current carried Sally downstream in the opposite direction.

9:22 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Celebrating my first review!
Category: Writing and Poetry

I'm celebrating my first review tonight with a glass of champagne!

A Desperate Journey by Debra Parmley receives 5 Hearts, reviewed by Margo Arthur

theromancestudio.com

Click on the above link to read it.
It' been another exciting day, another first!

8:40 PM - 6 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Make-Believe Mondays Author Interviews
Current mood: excited
Category: Writing and Poetry

Over on my Make-Believe Mondays blog, I interview authors once a week and we talk about imagination, the creation of fiction and dreams.

This week, with my book coming out next Tuesday, I interviewed myself! :-)

Visit Make-Believe Mondays to check it out!

2:16 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

A Cheat Sheet For Writers On Word Count
Current mood: focused
Category: Writing and Poetry

Have you ever noticed how many writers wrinkle their foreheads when the bill comes and they have to split it and calculate the tip? This always makes me chuckle. I suppose it's because we prefer words to numbers.

So here is a little cheat sheet for writers to use when wondering how close you are to your word count. (These are calculated using 250 words per page.)

100,000 words = 400 pages
95,000 words = 380 pages
90,000 words = 360 pages
87,500 words = 350 pages
75,000 words = 300 pages
62,500 words = 250 pages
50,000 words = 200 pages
37,500 words = 150 pages
25,000 words = 100 pages
12,500 words = 50 pages

Publishers sometimes have different preferences in story length so always check before you submit to them.

What is a novella? I have been told that a novella is a 7,000 - 15,000 word story.

Short stories are generally around 700 words.

Flash fiction is around 99 words.

Think you don't have time to write a novel?

Do you think a novel is much too large to try, but you've been writing short stories? (I used to think that.)

Try this. If you were to write 7 pages a day for 30 days you would have written 50,000 words. You would be halfway to your novel.

(This is word count and story length as I understand it. Anyone with new or updated information, comments or suggestions, feel free to post.)

9:17 AM - 0 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Copyright and Plagiarism
Current mood: confident
Category: Writing and Poetry

Copyright. Do you, as an author, understand it?
I didn't. Which was why I spent some time looking into this subject.

Copyright was created by law.

Plagiarism, is not a law, but a moral principle.

If you took one of Dickens stories or plays and publish it with your name as the author, you have plagiarized the work because it is not your original creation. These works are in the public domain. You would not be violating copyright.

All works originally published before 1923 fall into the public domain.

Works created and first published between January 1, 1923 and December 31, 1963 may have fallen into the public domain. To find out, research the status of the specific work. Also documents created by the U.S. government are also in the public domain.

If you copy a poem or a blog someone has written and post it on your site without their permission—you have violated copyright even if you properly attribute the work to them. Why? Because these works are protected by copyright.

From the moment of its creation an "original work" is copyrighted, once it is fixed in a "tangible medium of expression" whether it is on paper, or on your computer somewhere electronically or on the napkin you scribbled on in a bar.

Copyright does not depend on having a copyright notice, or registering the work with the copyright office.

A notice will make it clear you are reserving your rights and don't want your work used without your permission. Registration in the U.S. Copyright Office can also be valuable. If your work is registered you may be eligible for statutory damages and attorneys fees, should you win an infringement lawsuit. But you do not have to serve notice or register copyright for your work to be protected.

The work must also be original. For example, you cannot take a copy of Dante's Inferno and claim a copyright in it. However, if you add original illustrations, or an original commentary you can copyright the original things you added to the work. But only to those original works you have created.

What do I mean when I say original? The work must be more than an idea. It must be an original creative work. You cannot copyright an idea. We could each write from the same story idea, or idea for a poem without infringing on each other's copyright. When I create characters, a setting, and move the characters through a plot, I have created an original work.

So, to know if your work is copyrighted, ask yourself it is fixed and if it is your original work. If your answer is yes, then it is.

Please, if you wish to copy someone's work for any reason, do the right thing and request their permission. Most of us would not only be willing to allow you to repost something we have written, we would be honored. It is one of the highest compliments there is.

And if you are writing, be careful of what you are reading, because sometimes a phrase can slip through before you even realize you are doing it. Be conscious of what you are reading and writing.

7:30 PM - 10 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment