The Tale of Percival Switch
One of the things I plan to do, and hopefully this blog will give me swift kick up the arse, is finish the rest of this story.
I am ambitious enough to think I have a book in me somewhere, whether or not it’s a good one is another matter!
So I set about writing a children's book. I have some of the whole thing planned but have been sitting on it for well over a year now because I, as usual, am scared of not being able to complete it or it not being as fantastic as I want it to be.
Little excerpt below and I have uploaded the first chapter and you can read it here.
Percival Switch was an odd little boy and not for the reasons you’d think. He looked quite ordinary, average height, weight and size. He had chestnut brown hair and pinched cheeks that glowed rosy red in the frosty air. He had a full mouth and grey blue eyes, eyes so clear it was as if you were looking at crystal. He carried himself with an air of dignity, quite telling in one so young, passers-by would often think.
Percival lived at 12 Elmwood Road in the little village of Crossington in England. The village was very small indeed, it was home to a butcher, a sweet shop, a bakery with tea rooms and a church as well as the small terraced houses and the pretty cottages down by the canal. Every Saturday Percival’s step mother would send him off to the butchers for half a pound of sausages and some fresh bread from the bakers. Percival left the house from the side door dropping the vegetable scraps from the kitchen into the pail for the goat at the end of the garden on his way.
Any comments or feedback would be gratefully received, so please send me an email or reply below and let me know what you think.
And apologies for any spelling/punctuation mistakes you may spot. I have read it over about ten times but I can’t see any, although it might be my dyslexic brain kicking in!
I hope you enjoy :D