Writing a novel

11 Nov

This is a sample from what I’ve been trying to write. Hope you enjoy it and feel free to criticise. I need an audience to find out my mistakes.


The ball went flying past her. She didn’t even see it. Doubtful, she looked at the mark that was touching the white line. „Pff, what a lucky shot.” she thought.


“C’mon, it doesn’t matter. Pick yourself up.” But her return stopped in the net band. “No, no, no. It’s not working. Why isn’t it working? Calm down.”

“ Forty-love.”

The serve came powerful, but on her direction and si managed to hit it back. The ball however, returned with an incredible speed and her blocked backhand couldn’t do anything else but send it in the tribunes. “Damm.”

“ Game, miss kennel. Miss Kennel leads 3 games to love.”

“Aww”, the disappointed sights of the spectators were already becoming exclamations. “What’s with her? Why isn’t she focusing? We didn’t come here for this. She looks like an amateur.”

Laura wasn’t sure whether she was imagining or actually hearing the public’s questions.

It didn’t even matter. While she believed them true, they were affecting her; and not in a positive way. She tried to suggest herself to prove them wrong. It usually worked. She had always been good at succeeding when nobody else had hope in her, but now….Something was different. She felt stunned and unable to see the escape of the situation. She was overexcited but she couldn’t use this energy that overwhelmed her but against her and the seconds were flying fast.

“ Time.”

While she was standing up, a look from the crowd drew her attention. A blond guy, with blu-green eyes was watching her attentively. He looked as if he were trying to reach her, to understand what was happening in her mind. Time stood still, or at least she felt it that way. Laura decided to play for him, to show him she could. Before, she managed to do the same. She would pick one person from the stands for whom to fight and for whom to win. Today, at this match, he was going to be that person.

Tossing the ball for the serve, she met that look again. She didn’t know how she could pay attention to him while playing probably the most important match of her short career as a junior tennis player. And still, in between shots, her eyes were drawn to that, by now special, place in the tribune. She managed to win the next three points and hope came back to her. She thought she saw a smile on that stunned figure. Winning her service game and breaking her opponent next, she began thinking she might be able to do this, to win for him. This image appeared in her head and like most times in this sport, forgot that such feelings or images are two-sided swords. Indeed she didn’t feel numb anymore, but she fell into the other extreme. She attempted spectacular shots for him and looked to close the point as fast as she could, to prove her value, but she was rushing and acting reckless. Three games later, the set looked dangerously close to be won by her opponent. (5-3)

That was the moment disaster struck. Laura saw the figure of the blond boy, getting up from his seat, throwing her the most disappointed look she had ever seen and leaving, holding a girl by hand. Confused, she lost her focus completely. Annoyed that she was leaving a simple image ruin her gamer, she became aggressive and careless. Lost points were adding up, so did the games, and all she wanted was to disappear. When she finally heard the end, “Game , set and match, miss Kennel”, she hurried to reach the net, congratulated her opponent in a low voice and stormed with the bag on her shoulder to the locker-room.

Sad tennis player resting


2 Responses to “Writing a novel”


  1. Writing a novel « Don't You Know Me? - 19/11/2012

    […] Writing a novel […]

  2. Continuing writing a novel « Don't You Know Me? - 13/11/2012

    […] Though I should have prepared for my math test, I spent my free time today translating the continuation of the story I wrote in a post 2 days ago, here: Writing a novel. […]

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