A story I've started...

Tell me if it's going anywhere. It's pretty morbid but it's the kind of book I'd like to read, which is a shame if I'm writing it... I've got it all planned out. It will be a best seller and they will make it into a movie, and the tagline will be :

There is nothing
In the seven seas as turbulent
As the four small chambers
Of the heart - Pelsaert, Batavia

Belinda

"Belinda! The sun is up and your chores are not even begun!" The mill was dark. It's age caused creaks and whistles as the November wind whipped through it. The best of a man climbing the rickety stairs made the worn wood buckle alarmingly. The creaking grew ominously regular. Must be a flour sack hung on the heavy rope, thought the vast hulk of uncultered flesh, still lumbering up the stairs to the mills top floor, his neices favourite haunt. 'If the sack is up here, it can't be at market,' reasoned the vulgar man, using all of his tiny brain capacity. 'I'll hide that wench when I find her.' But when he reached the top floor, even he knew that no amount of "hiding" would get a reaction from the slight figure, head lolling to one side, lank hair half covering her face, swaying in the early morning breeze...


Ooooh...spooky. Who wants to know why she killed herself? If she did kill herself... I'm not even sure if it's worth continuing because it's one of those one's where some of it's set back then and the rest is in the present. And it keeps flipping back. But I don't really like those because there's always too much in the present and I prefer period dramas. *grumps* Anyway, it's called Belinda because both girls (that one from the first paragraph and the one from the present) are called Belinda. Creepy. Anyway, if anyones reading, tell me if they like the story, or the writing style or what ever. Paperback writer....

It's a thousand pages, give or take a few,
I'll be writing more in a week or two.
I can make it longer if you like the style,
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer,