The Gap

Hello Lovelies,

The title of this week’s post is not a reference to the ocean cliff on the South Head Peninsula in Eastern Sydney known as The Gap which gained infamy, not as a place frequented by sightseers, but sadly for suicide. Nor is it a reference to The Gap Inc. the American clothing and accessories retailer. This week’s post is referring to a gap that I found in my current WIP that was preventing me from moving forward with the story, although I didn’t know it until recently.

You  may remember me mentioning last week that I was struggling to make progress on Chapter 22, when I realised there was a significant gap in the story between chapters 16 and 17. I thought it would be a simple matter of slotting in the missing parts between the two chapters (I estimated to be only be a couple of thousand words) and then after renaming the following chapters accordingly, I would be able to move on. Nothing is ever that simple though is it. The section of the story that lies between what was once chapters 16 and 17, will now be referred to as The Gap.

The Gap was not the couple of thousand words I thought it was, it ended up being almost 7,500 words and three chapters long, not including the additions I needed to make in the subsequent chapters to keep consistency. So right about now I bet you’re wondering how on earth I manage to leave out a piece of the story worth 7,500 words.

7,500 words is by no means a small amount, but the answer is this, I didn’t realise there was a gap in the story until I was stuck further down the line and started asking myself the questions “how?” and “why?”. I knew where the story was headed (I already know how the story ends, after all) but sometimes I’m not sure quite how to get from one plot point to the next, until I’m actually writing it. This can sometimes cause gaps in the story later on, as the plot evolves and more and more “gaps” are filled in. Sometimes this means having to go back and filling in gaps that have been created by the evolving plot.

I’m sure as I continue to push on with József and Anna’s story, more gaps will need to be filled in along the way, hopefully none of them will be as large as The Gap, but I’m not holding my breath though, especially when I eventually come to do editing and rewrites!

For now though I will keep pushing forward and go back and fill in any gaps when necessary until I have the first draft complete.

Wish me luck!



Keep reading for a short excerpt from An Anguished Heart. It is a small section of The Gap that I wrote to fill in the missing parts between the original chapters 16 and 17 (Now chapters 16 and 20), it is only the first draft and likely to change through the many rounds of editing.



No matter how much I loved our first apartment, I couldn’t deny that I felt more at home in our new one than I had in months. The trauma and loss we had suffered had faded over the months and I began to feel more settled, but I never truly felt at home again in our Buda-side apartment. No matter how many fond memories I had of that place, the memories of loss and despair lurked in every corner. Here though, those memories could be laid to rest in the depths of my mind and I once again began to feel the sense of overwhelming peace and comfort.

I knew things would take a little getting used to in our new apartment, which was on the Pest side of the Danube, with views of the Parliament building, but from the opposite side to the ones we were used to seeing. I could still see the river from the corner balcony, but it was not the unobstructed view I had at our Buda apartment. Still, I felt more content here, despite the echoing emptiness of the apartment. This apartment was at least six-times larger than our previous one, easily, not including the live-in attic space that was included with this apartment, being on the top floor, once used as a servant’s quarters.  

We didn’t have the need or even the space for much furniture in our previous apartment and even with every single thing we owned, the apartment was still quite bare. József’s Anya had offered us some furniture and things when her new furniture arrived, which I gratefully accepted, much to the dismay of József and the other men, who complained about moving the same lounge back to the place they just moved it from. I, of course pointed out to them that they had so much experience now, that it should be much easier this time around.

Having a larger home to run, József and his Anya decided that we should employ a live-in housekeeper, who could live in the servant’s quarters. At first I wasn’t sure about the idea, the thought of another person living in our home sort of bothered me, as well as the idea of having a “servant” seemed rather belittling to whoever should be employed for the position and I had never even contemplated the idea before. József though, had grown up in a household that almost always had a live-in housekeeper that also served as a nanny when the children were younger, as well as a cook.

© Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within, (2013-2016). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.




Some Things Cannot be Unsaid

thinking flickr withbeautiful
Image courtesy of Flickr CC user withbeautiful

Hello Lovelies,

Sometimes we say things without thinking. Sometimes the things that we say are of little or no consequence, so are neglect of the thought process is not of a concern. Other times though, we live to regret the things that we say without thought and the unfortunate ripple of consequences that follow, changing our lives forever.

Sometimes we don’t notice the ripples until much later. The ripples reaching out further and further until months or perhaps even years later, something we said comes back and bites us in the arse.

I’ve had a few of those moments in life, unfortunately, when something I have said, perhaps in jest or in frustration, has resurfaced to give that metaphorical arse bite. Fortunately though, I’ve never said something that would cause such a consequence, that I would never recover from (At least I hope I haven’t!).

Other times we might say things in anger or frustration that hurt others, this may not change our own lives directly, but the relationship with the other person will be altered forever. These are  when we need to remember that some things cannot be unsaid, once the words leave our lips, we cannot take them back. We might apologise, we might say that we didn’t really mean what we said, we may try to forget it ever happened, but no amount of apologies will take those words back.

Sometimes our words change our relationships with others. Sometimes our words change the direction our lives take. Sometimes our words can have such dire consequences, that there is no hope of coming out the other side.

This is the dilemma that one of my secondary characters is currently faced with. Some things were said in frustration after one (or ten) too many drinks. At first it seems as though the consequences are limited to a terrible hangover and a lot of embarrassment, but then the ripples are revealed and his life and that of his entire family are sent into turmoil. Their world will never be the same again, because of some words that were said in drunken frustration. This is fiction, yes, but this type of thing (perhaps not as extreme) does happen.

Words can change lives, make sure it is for the better because

Some thing cannot be unsaid.




If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to have a look at the archives or at any other pages on the blog by clicking on the menu option. Also you can follow The Writer Within by clicking to follow or subscribe with your email address to receive my posts via email so you never miss out.

Please check out my latest page addition Mother-Daughter Poetry to have a read of some poems that my 8 year old daughter wrote with a little editing and guidance from yours truly.

© Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within, (2013-2016). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Withholding Information

“Every book contains a secret – even the writer doesn’t always know what it is.”
– Carla H. Krueger

Hello Lovelies,

After meeting my goal for the month of May, I’ve been on a roll and have even started working on this month’s word-count goal! I’ll probably start to procrastinate soon though and leave the rest until the last minute again, but at least I am actually meeting my goal each month, so get off my back!

Anyway, while I was searching for some inspiration for this week’s blog post, I came across the quote that is at the top of this post and it exactly described what I have been experiencing  lately in my current WIP, An Anguished Heart.

A few weeks ago I wrote the post, I Already Know What Will Happen discussing that, for the most part, I know how the story progresses and how it ends. However, no matter how detailed your plan might be or how sure you are of the details,the characters are constantly surprising you, letting you in on their secrets as the story progresses. Often, and more so lately, I will be writing a particular scene that I have already planned out in my mind (that’s where most of my planning is done, I always have good intentions of writing down a plan but it never really eventuates), but when I’m finished, or in the process of, writing it, I am completely surprised and find myself thinking, “Wow, I didn’t see that coming!”

Some people, perhaps non-writers, will question this. They will wonder how on earth we, the ones who are supposed to be telling the stories, can be surprised by our own writing. They want to know why we didn’t know all the secrets of our characters and of their stories.

You see though, in their questions and wonderings, they have already provided an answer. We, the writers, are the ones telling the stories, our characters’ stories. We know the direction the story is heading (most of the time anyway) but it is the details that we discover along the way, the secrets, the seemingly insignificant things that completely alter the sequence of events that you thought you already planned.

Which leads me to share another one of my favourite quotes,

“Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”
― E.L. Doctorow

It’s true, no matter how silly some people might think it sounds, it is not uncommon for the writer to be surprised by the stories they write. Just like if we were driving in the fog at night, we know roughly where the destination is, just like as a writer, we know where the story is roughly heading. However, when it comes to the details, we can only see as far as the “headlights” allow, but you definitely can “make the whole trip that way”, without a doubt.

So I will continue to write, I will continue to be surprised by my stories, the details that are exposed along the way, the secrets that are revealed as I journey towards my destination. Perhaps one day, there will be readers that will be just as (if not more) surprised as I am by the secrets of my characters and the stories that they share.




© Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within, (2013-2016). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

When Did That Happen?

Hello Lovelies,

This past couple of week’s I have been busy kicking procrastination’s arse again and also doing a little research and organisation of my scribbled notes. As part of trying to organise myself, I’ve started developing a timeline, plotting all the major events in the series I am working on, which includes my current WIP An Anguished Heart, AKA József and Anna’s story,  as well as at least three other novels in the series that tell Thomas and Rose’s story.

I seriously don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner (probably because I like to procrastinate), but now I am almost half-way through the first draft of An Anguished Heart, it is getting increasingly difficult to keep track of everything, especially when some of the major events in the series include both the first and second World Wars.

With a little shy of 40,000 words now, its’s also becoming time consuming to scroll back and check the dates of certain events and so on. This is why a timeline has become quite crucial in helping me to plan and write this series. I can’t keep going back through pages of text or multiple notebooks, looking for a date, an age and so on. So my aim is that every time I have to ask myself, “When did that happen?” instead of scrolling through pages of writing or trying to find the right notebook, I will be able to simply look at the timeline and check – hopefully.

On another not, every month when I have reached my word-count goal, I email and updated version of my WIP to my friend who is my nominated arse-kicker as proof that I met the month’s goal. I also send a copy to my parents, my father who is a self-professed ‘non-reader’, reads it each and every month and asks for more, he has even offered to help with the first round of proofreading when the time comes. My mother who does enjoy reading a book or two, (unlike her husband)  also reads the updated manuscript each month and when she messages me and tells me I made her cry and she had to put it down for a few moment to compose herself, I guess I must be doing something write. I was cry myself when I was writing the part she was emotional over, so I guess I was able to convey the emotions well enough in my writing for the reader to also experience those emotions. So, yay me!

The message from my mum about her tears brought to mind one of my favourite quotes from Robert Frost,

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.”


So overall I think I’ve had quite a successful week as a writer, deciphering the scribbles in my notebooks and making my readers cry and still beg for more.

Yes, definitely a successful week!




© Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within, (2013-2016). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Finally, I’ve Found the Link!

llinks flickr CC Patrick McConahay
Image courtesy of Flickr CC user Patrick McConahay

Hello Lovelies,

I didn’t get much writing done this week, but this time it wasn’t procrastination’s fault. I’ve been busy researching, plotting and generally figuring out my characters, which is all super important of course. Yes I admit, that I may have wasted the odd minute (hour) or two (100) on social media and googling Outlander and Game of Thrones, but in the process of working things through in my mind, I’ve had a major breakthrough!

Whilst I already know what will happen in József and Anna’s story (I spoke about that here), through the process of writing and exploring my own mind, I am able to figure out the finer details of the story and the characters.

Since starting this story, I’ve been trying to figure out how some of the main characters of this book are connected to the other characters later in the series. If you didn’t already know, this book is intended to be the first in a series of novels, but is still able to  be read as a standalone as the main characters in this first book are secondary characters in the remainder of the series (read more about my Current Works in Progress here).

I’m sure many writers will agree with me when I say that the breakthrough moments are often at the strangest or most inconvenient of times and usually not during the time when you are sitting down ready to work, like it’s supposed to. This time, my breakthrough moment came at 1 a.m. when I had already been tossing and turning for a few hours trying to sleep. I was running through things in my mind; what scenes I wanted to write next, who the characters’ relatives were, their relationship, dreams, hopes and the turmoil of events that would be coming up later in their story. What I kept coming back to though, was how were József and Anna connected to the the subsequent novels. I already knew the obvious connection, which is actually glimpsed in the prologue of An Anguished Heart , this connection I knew before I even started writing József and Anna’s story. However,  I wanted to go beyond the obvious, I wanted to figure out the critical links, the links that those who read the series will appreciate and the links that would let my mind rest, at least for a short while.

So, there I was tossing back and forth, my husband snoring like a freight train next to me. As I went through some of the events coming up in An Anguished Heart, it finally hit me! I finally found the crucial link!

My excitement would have been comparable to those moments when you come across the comments from those lovely folks on Facebook who helpfully spam the comments on different pages claiming they’ve finally found the links to the movies you’ve been constantly searching for online. I’m a little disappointed that the links never work though, the links totally look legitimate!


OK, maybe I’m being sarcastic here, I have never actually clicked on any of those links and scroll straight past those comments, but it was an awesome feeling to have finally figured it out.

Unfortunately though, I’m not willing to share with you the exact details of my breakthrough, as that will give away too much of the story. Hopefully one day not too far away though, I will actually finish something and you will be able to read József and Anna’s story in it’s entirety.

Until then, here is a short excerpt where József needs to ask a somewhat strange favour from a friend.



“Oh József, it’s you.” He said looking up from his desk, sounding surprised to see me. It was then I realised that I had never really come to Ádam for anything, except those few times on my sister’s behalf. Ádam and I had always been friends and had become closer over the last few years, especially after he and my sister Éva became engaged, but I never really go out of my way to come and speak to him. I suddenly felt like I was interrupting something important and thought that perhaps what I was about to ask him was not only odd, but perhaps too big of an ask.

-An Anguished Heart by Katherine A. Kovács


© Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within, (2013-2016). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.



I Already Know What Will Happen

writing flickr CC OuadiO
Image courtesy of Flickr CC user OuadiO


Hello Lovelies,

Up until last night, I had no idea what this week’s post was going to be about. I knew I wanted to get back to my WIP again, but have sort of shied away from it a little since getting over those rather heart-wrenching scenes I wrote a couple of weeks ago. I was speaking to a fellow writer and long-time friend about the lack of progress in my writing lately.

This is what came out of that discussion, we are both suffering from minimalwordcountitis (I may have made up that diagnosis) but for different reasons, we are both equally frustrated because in our minds, we already know what will happen. That is, we know how the story starts, we know how it ends and everything in between.

You see, whilst our characters stories never really end (read about why here), we still know the plot of the book. I know the path that the characters take, I have even seen the scenes played out in my mind many times, some changes might be made as the story and the characters develop of course, but in a nutshell, I already know what will happen.

That’s why it’s so frustrating when the words don’t seem to be coming, it’s all there in your head the characters have a life of their own and they show you their story. That’s the easy part, the part when you’re the audience, but it’s a little more difficult to bring the characters to life on the page, finding the right words to convey what they think, feel, see and experience.

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”

-Jack Kerouac

So this is where I am, I have twenty days left to meet this month’s goal of 8,000 words and I haven’t even written one. I need to get back into it and stop shying away from it. Writing isn’t easy, I never thought it would be, and even though I procrastinate constantly I am the type of person who likes to finish what I start. So I will finish this story, I will meet the word count and I will give my characters a voice, not just because I promised myself that I would or because I’m stubborn (although that helps) but because I already know what will happen and there’s no point in leaving a story trapped inside my mind when I can share it.

Plus, I don’t think my characters would shut up if I neglected them for any longer. They would slowly drive me mad playing their story over and over again!

So, if I already know what will happen, I better get to work and bring them to life through words.

Wish me luck!



© Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within, (2013-2016). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovács and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Element of Surprise

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.”
Robert Frost

Hello Lovelies,

Sorry I am a day late with this week’s post, but unfortunately it’s been a rollercoaster of a semester and an assessment task that was due had to take priority yesterday.

As you can see by the title of today’s post and by the quote at the top, I am going to talk about the importance of using the element of surprise when writing fiction.

I spoke a few weeks ago about realising a mistake I made in Thomas and Rose’s story (in case you missed it check it out by clicking here). I realised that I had given away too much of the story, too early on eliminated the suspense and surprise that the plot needed in order to develop at an engaging pace. Now sometimes, as the writer, you already know the little surprises coming up in the plot and when drafting you let them go a little too soon. This is when you have to rush back and edit, making sure you keep that element of surprise and suspense up your sleeve (like I am intending to do now I have submitted that nasty literature review!) Other times you are simply writing it as it comes to you and even though you are the writer, one of the plot twists even takes you by surprise.

So far through writing Thomas and Rose’s story I’ve laughed and cried, I’ve been shocked and surprised and sometimes I’ve been downright furious and angry, particularly with one of my more villainous characters. I’ve had moments when I would be writing away and suddenly I would realise where the story was heading. In that moment I feel the shock and surprise that I only hope my readers will feel too.

Without the element of surprise the plot runs the risk of becoming predictable and boring, definitely not something that will keep an audience. Be ruthless in your writing, be ruthless,shock and surprise your readers but try not to be predictable.

So now I’m off to do some rearranging of Thomas and Rose’s story, trying to keep the element of surprise, if I don’t get distracted by Game of Thrones, that is!

Wish me luck!


© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning

Hello Lovelies,

Well you know how ideas and inspiration can come at some of the strangest or most unexpected of times, such as in some type of bathroom environment or when you should be sleeping? Well that happened to me this week, I was in the shower (of course) when it hit me, the reason I am still struggling with Heart’s Desire, even after changing the POV is because I have started Rose and Thomas’ story in the middle and I’m not entirely sure of what happened in the beginning!

Oh, the life of a frustrated writer! The more I thought about it the more it made sense, Rose and Thomas’ story is not one novel, but three it seems and I started their story with the second novel. After realising this, from my past experiences and my initial resistance to change (such as the time when I realised I started this WIP from the wrong POV) I’ve found it is best not to argue with my characters and have come to the conclusion that the only way to tell Rose and Thomas’ story is by starting at the very beginning. I don’t mean I’m going all the way back to their births (that’s going a bit too far), but back far enough in their story so I am able to understand the characters fully and the impact that their separate pasts have on their future together. As the story is told from Rose’s POV, I am going back to the time shortly before Rose met Thomas.

Copyright The Writer Within

So whilst I’m starting at the beginning, the first novel at this point is a series of scribbles in one of my writing journals, in no particular order, but in case you’re interested this is roughly where I’m at:

  • Rose and Thomas’ Story is a series of three novels with working titles of Lonely Hearts, Heart’s Desire and Heart’s Content.
Copyright The Writer Within
Copyright The Writer Within
  • Lonely Heart’s focuses on Rose’s story, beginning at the point in her life shortly before she has met Thomas.
  • We discover that Rose has an interesting past that was filled with sadness, loneliness and longing to belong.
  • Rose is not a brunette (as I thought she was), she now has honey blonde hair, that is slightly red in the sunlight, blue/green eyes and freckles. Her appearance is important in understanding the perceptions she has of herself.
  • Rose is the daughter of a single mother, her mother was cast out by her family upon discovering she was pregnant.
  • Rose’s mother was a well-educated woman that wanted the same for Rose.
  • There is much Rose doesn’t know and understand about her mother and her family, but many of her questions about her mother’s past will be answered in Lonely Hearts, this is where Thomas’ wealth and connections come in handy.
  • Heart’s Desire will focus on Thomas and Rose’s story as a newly married couple and their move to England (including paranormal encounters with Thomas’ late uncle)
  • Heart’s Content will focus on Thomas’ and Rose’s story with the birth of their daughter and the unrest in the country leading up to the Second World War.

As you can see there is still a lot of work that needs to be done, but I’m feeling quite excited at the direction that this WIP has taken. It just feels right and as I scribble down short pieces of dialogue and small excerpts of the story it’s all beginning to make sense, all these pieces are beginning to come together so I can start to see the big picture.

Copyright The Writer Within
Copyright The Writer Within

So now I leave you with a  few little pieces of writing that I’ve deciphered from my scribbles.



Yes, I have freckles, something which was always used as ammunition by those horrid boys. One day I cried to my mother, begging her to find some way to cover them up or better still, to rid me of them forever. She told me not to be daft, that freckles were something very special, “God’s Kisses” she had called them. She said they were there to remind me that no matter how bad things seemed, God would always be there for me and love me unconditionally -just as she did. She died three days later… I was fourteen

I’ve never given much thought to what it might be like to fall in love, but if I did, I imagine it could be something like this. This must be love because despite our faults, our weaknesses, the darkness in both of our pasts and everything and everyone seemingly against us, we’re still here together. Fighting for each other, fighting for us.

I can’t do this, I can’t keep trying to guess what you’re thinking or feeling. I just can’t do it Thomas! I don’t want to guess what mood you’re in and whether you are going to let near you or shut me out. You either let me in Thomas… Or let me go…

© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Inspiration- Like a Brick Through a Window

Hello Lovelies,

If you have “liked” my page on Facebook, you might have seen I was struck by inspiration again in the early hours of the morning. This time it was a definite ‘hit’, like a brick through a window, it literally was a brick that inspired me, but thank goodness it did not actually go through a window, or any window that I am aware of.

It happened when I was driving this morning at around 5:55am, I saw a brick in the middle of the road and I had to drive closer to the kerb to avoid driving over it. I starting wondering why there was a brick in the middle of the road, had it been used for something mischievous, even illegal? Or was it simply dropped there by mistake? At this point new characters popped into my mind, I saw them throwing the brick at an ‘enemy’s’ window in an attempt to “send a message” and the attempt hilariously failing. That is the moment when WIP #3 was born.

Since these characters popped up, I have written a plot summary, some brief character profiles, a prologue and almost the entire first chapter. It seems I have a comedic piece of work on my hands, consisting of a group of dimwitted characters aged form 17 to 25 who long to be members of a bikie gang, but don’t have licences, motorbikes or any idea of what “real bikies” do. The “Diamondback Rebels” (“diamondback” named after the brand of bicycles they ride) set out to make themselves known to the various bikie gangs and to prove themselves to be “real bikies”.

This WIP does contains coarse language, but it is used in context as the “Diamondback Rebels” believe that all real bikies swear. Except, of course, not in front of their wives, girlfriends, mothers or grandmothers. The WIP is not serious at all and is not supposed to bear any resemblance to any person. Please keep in m ind the excerpts I am sharing are unedited.




Picture from Flickr Creative Commons Copyright Joanna Bourne

Excerpt from Prologue

The theme from the bikie show on the TV, “Brothers in Arms” is playing in my head and we’re running. We’re running from the cops, running from the bikies and running from our mums who already have the wooden spoons ready, pretty much running for our lives. Pretty much everyone seems pissed at us right now, but we’re not really that bad. We only wanted to be part of a bikie gang, but none of them would let us join. So what if we didn’t ride a Harley or even have a licence, it’s about being brothers in arms and not what you ride. Well that’s what we thought anyway, now I realise how wrong we were……

…we were getting fed up with their excuses, “You don’t even have a licence”, so we failed a few times, we would have licences eventually, “You don’t even know how to ride”, yeah, that was true but we’d pick it up pretty quickly I reckon, “You don’t own a decent bike or have the money to buy one”, well you see that’s where they were wrong, me and Azza worked our butts off for a whole month, on the weekends, to buy an awesome pair of Diamondback Overdrives, got them for a great price too from Big W. Sure they were mountain bikes, not motorbikes, but they were still pretty awesome and they could go pretty hard too. Even with our awesome bikes the excuses still kept rolling in, “You dumb shits don’t even know what being a bikie is about”, well that was it, these words set the wheels in motion, me and Azza decided that if we were gonna be bikies, then first we had to prove we knew what being a bikie was all about, this is when the Diamondback Rebels were born….

Excerpt from Chapter One “Show Them Who’s Boss”

There were now six members of the gang, me (Darren “Dazza” Brown) and my best mate Aaron “Azza” Williams, as the founding members and ideas guys. Then there was the eager 17 year old Garry “Gazza” Johnson who was the nerd of the gang and liked all that chemistry and science shit, there was dopey Larry “Lazza” Anderson who we kept around for a laugh who liked to hit stuff and was the oldest member of the gang at age 25.  Lastly there were the Jones boys, Harry “Hazza” Jones and Barry “Bazza” Jones who were twins who liked making things blow up.

The plan was to meet on our bikes at the 7eleven on the corner at 11pm, where we would give the guys the ski masks to cover their faces and we’d ride past Nicko’s house and “deliver” the brick straight through the lounge room window. It was perfect, Azza and I would lead the gang, Hazza and Bazza would stick behind a bit and look out for cops armed with some crackers to distract the cops if they showed and  Lazza would take care of the delivery while Gazza kept an eye out for Nicko and the rest of his family. Everything was set and ready to go. Azza and I got to the servo at about 10:55pm and waiting for the rest of the guys to show. Of course Lazza was late because the dumbass forgot we were meeting at the 7eleven and went to the Caltex down the road instead. Lucky he actually remembered his phone and Azza texted him asking him where the bloody hell he was. “Right boys everyone ready?” Azza looked like he was preparing to give some inspirational pep talk to the guys when Lazza interrupted him, “hey guys, these mask things kinda suck balls, I can’t even firggen see out of it.” At the same time we all looked at Lazza and started pissing ourselves laughing at him, the dumbass had put the mask on backwards; no wonder he couldn’t bloody see out of it. As Gazza fixed Lazza’s mask for him, Azza quickly went through the plan. “Righto boys, settle the hell down and listen to me. Nicko’s place in on the corner of Woodstock and Bougainville. Ranga and I will lead the way, with Hazza and Bazza looking out for coppers. You’ve got the stuff ready don’t you boys?” The Jones boys nodded, “Now Gazza you hold onto the brick until we get there, and then hand it to Lazza who will chuck it straight through the lounge room window. Everyone got it?” Once we were sure everyone understood the plan we started heading to Nicko’s place. We got there without running into any problems and Gazza and handing the brick to Lazza while Azza and I held onto their bikes so we would be ready to take off as soon at the brick went through the window. My guts felt weird and I don’t know if it was excitement or if I was scared shitless, but if anyone asks I’m gonna go with the first one. I held my breath as Lazza held up the brick and heaved it towards the window, as he hurled his arm forward he slipped on the wet grass and his arm on the garden edge. The brick bumped off the wall and landed in the garden, “You bloody idiot! You were supposed to chuck it through the window not into the firggen garden!” Azza was more than furious, “Pick it up and do it properly before someone comes out and catches us!” Lazza rubbed his elbow and looked sorry for himself, this bloody big baby was gonna get us all caught, “But my elbow hurts, I can’t do it.” Gazza picked up the brick, “Oh, harden up princess, I’ll bloody do it!” Gazza hurled the brick towards the window as I held my breath again, the brick hit the window this time but it didn’t go through like we had planned, instead the brick cracked the window and fell back into the garden. “What the bloody hell was that?” Nicko’s dad’s voice boomed from inside the house, Lazza and Gazza jumped onto their bikes and we all hauled our asses out of their before anyone saw us.

So things didn’t go exactly as planned, but surely once they see the cracked window, they’ll find the brick in the garden, read the note and then they’ll know that the Diamondback Rebels mean business, for sure.

© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Darkness, Heartbreak and Devastation

Hello Lovelies,

This week I’ve been exploring Thomas’ feelings towards his grandmother. While for all intense and purposes she has been his closest living relative and guardian since the death of his parents, he does not feel any emotional connection towards her, only obligation.

When considering his feelings and the news of Charlotte Dawson’s passing (may she RIP) I started to wonder, how much heartache and devastation can one person encounter, before there is no way out of the darkness? After discovering the darkness of Thomas’ past in recent weeks, I am beginning to feel that one of my original plot twists is something that would cause Thomas to permanently retreat into the darkness, something I feel is wrong for the character and the story overall. While I understand that everyone has good days and bad days, especially when dealing with grief, I feel that my original plot twist is too much to bear. I now see my character taking a different direction, telling a different story, one of the power of human emotion and human connection. As Thomas ostracized himself emotionally after the loss of his parents and the coldness of his grandmother, I feel he is showing me that his story is not just a story of darkness, tragedy and loss, but a story of human emotion and the importance and dealing with our emotions.

As I further explore my characters, I am beginning to gain a deeper understanding of the connection between Thomas and Rosie, it goes far beyond the initial physical attraction between them, it is a deep emotional bond, one that Thomas has been craving since his parents’ passing. Rosie encourages Thomas to explore his emotions towards his grandmother and his parents, something which his grandmother discouraged, with her help, Rosie is leading Thomas away from the darkness and into the light. Darkness, heartbreak and devastation still exist in the light, but in the light we are able to see and enjoy the things that give us joy and happiness that we cannot see in complete darkness.

Today I have a short excerpt where Thomas is scratching at the surface as he explores his feelings towards his grandmother, remember it is raw and unedited and will likely change many times before it is final.




“Thomas, are you ready for dinner?” That voice, I’ll never tire of hearing that voice, I shrug into my coat and make my way to join Rosie in the sitting room of our suite. Our suite on the SS Strathaird is rather luxurious, I would have preferred something less extravagant but of course my dear grandmother would not hear of it, “if one can afford luxury then one should not settle for anything less”, remembering my grandmother’s words cause me to involuntarily shudder for some reason. As I enter to sitting room I see Rosie, a vision of perfection in a long pearl coloured evening gown and elbow length gloves, her chocolate brown hair pulled back into an elegant twist. No one would believe where this beautiful creature was from, not that it mattered to me at all. “My fair lady, would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner?” With a shallow bow, I offered Rosie my hand, as she accepted I dipped her and placed a soft kiss onto her crimson lips, as the kiss deepened we were interrupted by the noise of someone clearing their throat, of course that someone was my grandmother. I quickly turned to face her and saw her eyes of disapproval, “Grandmother, you look lovely, should we head down to the dining room?” Grandmother look at me, then glanced at Rosie letting out a long, disapproving breath, “My dear Thomas, I am not interrupting anything, am I?” I could distinctly hear the tone of sarcasm in her question to which I replied to with the same tone, “Of course not grandmother, your timing is impeccable as usual.”  As my grandmother pushes past Rosie and insists that I escort her to dinner, I shoot her an apologetic look, letting her know that it won’t always be like this. She understands the meaning conveyed and as much as I detest my grandmother and her stubborn ways, she has been for many years the only family I have had. Despite this cold-hard fact, I do not feel any real closeness or emotional bond to my grandmother, only obligation. I feel obliged to care for her in her older years and to put up with her nonsense as I feel it is my duty and responsibility. After all, she did provide care for me as a boy, through the employment of a long line of nannies and governesses and she did respect my parents’ wishes to raise me in Sydney, so it is expected that I now provide for her needs and indulge her moods. Yet, her animosity towards Rosie is wearing my patience. I try not to let my frustration and anger show as we make our way to the dining room. My grandmother’s false sentiment and moodiness towards myself, I can deal with and have done so for many years, but the way she is treating Rosie is becoming ridiculous and something which Rosie does not deserve. I do not often stand up to my grandmother, but this is getting preposterous, I have decided that once we arrive in England, things will be different. I will be the man of the house and she will simply have to accept that, I will indulge her silly luncheons, afternoon teas and other functions, but I will no longer put up with her ill-treatment of Rosie.


December 15th, 1932

By nothing short of a miracle, I managed to make it through dinner without telling my grandmother exactly what I thought of her and the way she was treating Rosie. Thankfully I was able to make polite conversation with the other people dining with us and I maintained my mask for society, you know the one with the polite smile and the perfectly timed compliments? Rosie is worried though, not because of the way my grandmother is treating her or worried that she might not fit in, but worried because she can see the fine lines that are becoming cracks in my mask. She is the only one who would see these cracks forming, the only person who knows the real me. Rosie is encouraging me to calmly discuss my feelings with grandmother, I told her that one does not simply discuss feelings with Agnes Heath, emotions are “utter nonsense” and have no place in her world. The woman has a stone-hard exterior with a heart of ice that cannot be melted. I know Rosie is right though, for my own sanity I need to express myself; if I can’t talk to Agnes Heath then I will express my feelings in writing. Perhaps someday I will have the courage to show her, but for now writing it down may be enough to keep the darkness from closing in.

© Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within, (2013-2015). Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Katherine A. Kovacs and The Writer Within with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.