This evening I will be highlighting my foray into fiction with the closing ceremony of the "I Can Write Fiction!" workshop with Marita Golden. For the last eight weeks I have been blessed to take part in a community of writers who have a dream of being better at the craft that we felt we were called to do.
I thank God for the gifts and talents he has heaped upon me and I wanted to share with you the opening paragraph to the story I have in development entitled "Ferdinand's Pupil." I hope you enjoy it and that it whets your appetite for more.
"D’Artagnan Sylvester White always thought his name to be a cruel joke perched upon a dream. A joke because he felt his parent’s knew of the ridicule he would have to endure. A dream because he never felt that he could fill the shoes of the one after whom he was named. Plucked from the pages of The Three Musketeers by Alexander Dumas, he was taught that names had a way of determining the destiny of the person whose identity they encompassed. He had trouble spelling his name and even identifying with the person whom his parent’s thought would embody heroism. Especially since the name he most often heard perched on the tongues of his friends and family was “Dart,” an abbreviated version of his nomenclature; a hastened attempt at velleity. What’s in a name? He mused. More than you can ever imagine."
