People
often ask me how one might set about becoming a published author. The answer is
reasonably simple, start writing and sending off your work to magazines,
publishers, agents etc. With regard to having a book published one way to do
this is to get a copy of The Writers and Artists Yearbook and look through the
lists to find a publisher or literary agent that has a list in which your work
might fit. For example there would be no point in sending your MS on the
paranormal to Mills and Boon. Having found what you consider to be the right
publisher or agent send in first a covering letter asking if they would be
interested in reading your work. You should include a single page synopsis and
an SAE. Also include a very brief
biography of yourself listing your published work to date. That is what I did in
1990 when I sent a letter to the editors at one of the world’s biggest
publishers HarperCollins. They replied, I sent them an outline of the book, they
liked this, sent for me and within three months I had a commission to write the
book which they subsequently published. That book was titled: ‘The Psychic
World Of James Byrne’.
My first success as a writer was winning The
Lancashire Evening Post short story competition in 1989. This is the ghost story
that started my career as a published author.
By: John G. Sutton
The deep leaden gray sky darkened as soft snow fell
in flakes on this cold Christmas Eve. Alone in her neat and tidy front room,
toasting her toes before a flaming log fire, sat Miss Felicity. Her fingers
ruffled the fur of Marmaduke, the comfortable cat.
The Westminster clock chimed eight. "Soon be
time for bed" she murmured, disturbed from her half-sleep by the familiar
tones. Felicity gazed towards the table and her eyes rested on the now yellowing
photograph of her long lost lover. Then her mind drifted back to that Christmas
Eve many years ago when her Edward had stood by that very table and promised
that they would be married when he returned from the war. But he never returned.
She thought of the simple stark message from the War Office,
"Missing in action, presumed dead". Felicity brushed away a tear.
"So many years, so many years" she whispered and shuffled into her
pink pom-pom slippers. Outside the frost froze the flakes of snow into a hard
white carpet. An unearthly silence settled about the little house as she quietly
prepared for bed.
Undaunted by the bitter cold, the all-male choir of
St Mary the Virgin's church gathered in the congregational hall. Dressed in
their warmest clothes with gloves, knitted hats and thick socks the singers
carolled forth into the frosty street, determined to bring the spirit of
Christmas to one and all. "Keep those lanterns up lads" shouted Harry,
the keen as mustard choirmaster, his breath misting in the winter's night.
Inside her snug bedroom Miss Felicity curled cosy in
a deep soft eider-downed bed. Drifting slowly into dreamless sleep she heard,
far, far away in the distance, the faint sounds of the approaching carol
singers. "Christmas alone" she sighed, thinking of times long past,
when her life held promise, and Edward.
"Come on lads, let's sing Silent Night it's
always a favourite. Harry cajoled his carollers who by this time were beginning
to feel the chill of this frozen Christmas Eve. Slowly they began walking along
the road leading to Miss Felicity's home. The house stood slightly sheltered
behind snow-hung conifers dimly lit by a solitary street lamp.
"Mind if I join you for this one?" The
voice came from a tall young man in a long brown overcoat with bright brass
buttons. Harry was startled; the stranger had appeared, so it seemed, from thin
air. "Must have been the snow deadening his footsteps" he thought.
"Yes why not, spirit of Christmas and all that, hope you've got a good
voice." Harry led the group to a halt almost directly beneath the bedroom
window of Miss Felicity's house. They formed themselves into their practised
pattern with the tall stranger standing at the rear. He sang along with them in
a deep, dark haunting voice: " Silent night, Holy night, All is calm, All
is bright".
Miss Felicity was awake at once. They were singing
her favourite carol. Happy memories flooded her mind from a time long, long ago when
she was a young woman. Felicity filled with emotion, thinking of the days when her life held promise and Edward. Pushing
aside the heavy eiderdown she
shuffled to the window and drew back the deep red velvet curtains. Staring out
into the bleak night she saw, in the semi-darkness below, the glow of the carol
singers' lanterns. "Holy infant so tender and mild"
Her heart seemed to leap into her mouth, there at the
back of the group of carollers he stood. Yet it could not be him, tall, strong,
sure of himself dressed in his Army greatcoat, brass buttons reflecting the
lanterns' yellow light. "Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly
peace"
With an agility that denied her years Felicity
hurried downstairs and flung the front door wide open.
"Edward!……Edward!" she cried, but the carol singers had gone. She
could see, for a brief moment, the indistinct outline of the group as it turned
away disappearing into the misty night. Careless of the cold, she walked out to
where the carollers had stood, singing of a Holy night long, long ago. In the
dim light cast by the lone street lamp Felicity saw something twinkling,
something yellow on the crisp white carpet of snow. Her thin fingers reached
down and picked up a single brass button.
"You're quite a good singer" Harry said to
the stranger as the choir strolled back to the congregational hall. "Have
you ever thought of joining a choral society?" he asked. But answer came
there none, from the still silent night.
Hope you enjoyed that story. Good luck with your own
writing.