To the readers of parwich.org:
In the history of village blogging, an experiment such as this has never been attempted before. History is about to be made. The road ahead will be hard, but with enough imagination and determination, we will create something quite special!
We propose, ladies and gentlemen, that we collectively write the most compelling romantic novel that has ever been created.
Who knows where this story will go. The twists and turns will be unpredictable, but one thing is for sure – the journey will be fascinating! So if you have a creative streak and feel like being the co-author of a compelling read, this is a unique opportunity!
Here’s how it works…
The opening paragraphs of ‘Parwich Heights’ are provided below. From here on in, we will build up our novel installment by installment using contributions from the readers of parwich.org. You can write a paragraph, a page or even a whole chapter – the choice is yours! You can choose to use your own name, use a pseudonym or remain completely anonymous.
If you would like to add a section, email parwich@hotmail.co.uk . The blog team will look after the list of contributors and will agree with you when your turn comes up. You will be given a week or so to write your section.
Week by week, our epic novel will materialise. Where it goes from here, you will decide….
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Parwich Heights
The sunlight had long passed by the time Annie drove into the picturesque Derbyshire village. It was dusk and there was nobody to be seen. The lights from the cosy stone cottages were starting to twinkle. As she passed the village green, she could hear the faint sound of folk music coming from the pub. “Typical!” she thought, “I’m trying to forget everything and I cannot get away from listening to the very type of music my late fiancé used to adore”.
You see, Annie was trying to escape the memories of that terrible day one year ago, when she had veered from delirious happiness to the depths of despair. Annie and Quentin had been flying to the island of Madagascar for their dream wedding when a frightful sound came from the port engine. Captain Dirk Scrimshank’s calm voice came over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some technical difficulties and need to divert to a nearby airport. On behalf of Utopian Airlines we apologise for any convenience caus…..”. The Captain’s reassuring voice was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a similar blast on the starboard side of the aircraft. Immediately, the aircraft started to lose height and banked alarmingly to the left. Annie remembered that her complimentary glass of champagne had spilled from the table and the sight of mountains had loomed larger than life, filling the small window of the aircraft. Events after that point were a blur. All she knew now was that Quentin had perished, and her life as she knew it was over.
Who could blame Annie for her distracted thoughts as she made her way into that little village. Time after time she tried to make sense of the chain of events that had led her to this point in her life. Many times, hours had passed as she tried to answer that one nagging question in her mind – “Why?”.
Suddenly, her thoughts were arrested as she heard a bump and saw a shadowy figure sprawl across the bonnet of her car. “Oh my goodness” she thought, “I’ve rented a house in this obscure little village to make a new life, and I’ve run someone over on my very first day!”. Annie was mortified as she quickly brought her 2CV to a halt. She opened the door and was greeted by the sight of a dishevelled but striking gentleman………
Over to you for the next instalment!
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