EVO Ghost, Writing and Me

Muse-ic

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What have I been listening to whilst researching and taking notes for EVO Ghost? Well, one song in particular is drawing my attention of late. This is not a new song to me or the EVO Nation series. I have listened to this song during the drafting of books one and two, and now, it is making an appearance again for EVO Ghost.

The lyrics for this could have been written for EVO Ghost. The theme of fighting for your life is important in both this song and my book.

Death surrounds
My heartbeat’s slowing down
I won’t take this world’s abuse
I won’t give up or refuse
This is how it feels when you’re bent and broken
This is how it feels when your dignity’s stolen
When everything you love is leaving
You hold on to what you believe in

What is on your writing playlist? Are there any go to songs that inspire you regardless of how many times you’ve heard them?

Content belongs to K.J. Chapman

Picture Prompts

Picture Prompt

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Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Writer Spotlight: Check out Jacky’s interpretation of the last picture prompt over on her blog: Jacky’s Journey.

Picture Prompt:

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“And no one knows what’s on the other side?” I ask.

The pastor shakes his head. “Only those chosen during the Storm Festival take the steps. It’s an honour, Lacey. You get to fulfil your destiny. The Gods only favour us with prosperity if the chosen take the steps. They will reward you, my child.”

“But no one ever comes back.” I glance at the mountain with its thousands of steps that disappear into the clouds, and then picture my mother’s crying face. I’ve been training for years to be able to tolerate high altitudes and have the fitness levels to make the trek. Ten of us are selected from the clans for every birth year, and only two will make the climb on their eighteenth year. Myself and a guy called Mal from a fellow clan won the title of ‘Climbers’ during the Storm Festival. I can see Mal in quiet conversation with his pastor.

“Thank you for your sacrifice, Climber Lacey,” my pastor says, kissing my forehead. He steps aside to allow me to greet Mal for the first time.

I shake his hand, introduce myself, and stand beside him. It’s hard to disguise my trembling as anything other than fear. The steps loom in front of us, and the crowds cheer behind. I daren’t turn to search for my mother for fear of breaking down.

“Ready to see what’s on the other side?” Mal asks.


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Picture Prompts

Picture Prompt

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Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

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Two hundred and eight days of solitude. Two hundred and eight days of my own company; nothing but an internal monologue to get me through each day. I can’t be the only one left. Seven billion people on the planet have all just poofed into non-existence. I’ve decided that today shall be my last. As the cliffs loom in the distance, and it dawns on me that I have walked the length of the country, I prepare myself to take my final dive.

Removing my shoes, I take a last stroll along the waters edge. The sand is soft and warm under foot; a sharp contrast to the hard, cold reality I face. It takes all my strength to turn away from the rolling waves, but the time has come to put myself out of this misery. Making my way back to the coastal path, something catches my eye a little further down the beach. The closer I get, the more my heart races. A stone sculpture stands proudly from the sand. The sea-weathered stones are postioned with a beautiful artistry. Dropping to my knees, I wipe away the sand drift from the boulder at the base of the sculpture and press my forehead into the sand as tears shudder from my body. The rock is inscribed with a message- the best message I have ever read.

“I search for survivors every Thursday. Do not leave this point. Look out for my yacht. Hang in there, you lucky sons of bitches.”


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

EVO Ghost

Muse-ic for EVO Ghost

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These past few weeks have been a rollercoaster of drafting emotions in regards to EVO Ghost. First, I was moseying along, quite content, then I hit a wall. That wall saw me change a time jump, totally deconstruct the middle of my draft, and then cut just over 10k words. Needless to say, I have been having a panic unlike I have had with any other of my books. I think I have pinned down why… I have ‘third book in the trilogy’ syndrome, or so I am calling it. I am so worried about this book living up to the first two, and that Teddie gets the ending she deserves, that I’m freaking out a little over here. Loose ends need to be tied, my characters haven’t finished growing, and they’re all looking to me to do them proud. I’m rambling now- deep breaths.

I think this book will continue to keep me on my toes, but I have found the best way to deal with my self-doubt is to write through it- write through it and draw inspiration from music. That is exactly what this song is about. In my eyes, this is Teddie’s song for book three.

Human by Rag’n’Bone Man

The following lyrics are so true of where I am at in the EVO narrative, and where Teddie’s head is at:

Take a look in the mirror
And what do you see
Do you see it clearer
Or are you deceived
In what you believe
‘Cause I’m only human after all
You’re only human after all
Don’t put the blame on me
Don’t put your blame on me


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

Music video sourced from Youtube.com

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Picture Prompts

Picture Prompt

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Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

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As the gates open, the colour green fills every inch of my vision. I hadn’t realised how much I have missed colour. Dirty browns and dusty yellows have been our lives for so long now, even the rusty red of blood seems to blend into the landscape because it has become such an ordinary sight to us. To see a fully developed eco system such as this in comparison to the hell outside, is probably the closest many of us will ever get to a heaven.

The head honcho, Fraser, gives us a minute to take it in. “Welcome to your new home. This is where you get to start again- humanity gets to start again. You will have two days to settle in, and then you will be assigned your new jobs. Everyone plays a part in this new world. I am sure you will find everyone very welcoming.”

There is a scream from behind, and instinctively, the whole group draw their weapons. Fraser waves his hands to calm us, and approaches little CeeCee at the back of the huddle.

“What is it?” she cries, as an animal curiously walks around her. I haven’t seen such an animal in about fifteen years. The sight of such vivid pinks and the majesty of its posture holds me transfixed. “Get it away. Mama, what is it?”

“Away, Gerald,” Fraser says, shooing the animal. He bends closer to CeeCee and her mother. “I bet you’ve never seen an animal, eh?” CeeCee shakes her head, tears spilling from her eyes. “Gerald is a flamingo, Sweetheart. He won’t hurt you.” Then, he turns to address us all. “We have over three hundred species of animal within our perimeters. This is about more than saving ourselves. It is about saving our world.”


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman

Picture Prompts

Picture Prompt

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Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

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They say the wall has stood for two hundred years. We are prohibited from going within one hundred yards of it. The outposts are manned, but to converse with the guards is punishable by lashing. It is just the way of the wall. Chief tells us that it was built for our protection from the monsters outside. We recite those exact lines during our communal prayers.

Mumma warned me to stay away as a child. I would always push the limits; stepping one foot over the perimeter or throwing pebbles at the wall. It was during one of these escapades that I saw a guard without his helmet on. He looked ordinary like Papa, but he was eating something strange; a food with a long, yellow skin. I couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t drinking blood? All we can drink is blood, else we get sick.

It was then that I heard his voice carried on the breeze. “Why do we do this God damned job?” he asked someone just out of my sight.

“To keep those filthy blood drinkers in check,” another voice replied.

I now know that the wall is to keep the monsters out… of the other side.


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman

Picture Prompts

Picture Prompt

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Today’s picture prompt was taken at a National trust estate in Cornwall. Just after I took this picture, we had to climb down the slippery, leaf covered embankment. I asked my daughter to hold my hand, and she refused, claiming ever so politely that she would hold her Daddy’s hand because Mummy is the best at slipping over.

I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence or paragraph to accompany it. You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

If you do not have an Instagram account, but would like to join in, you can post your sentence/ paragraph in the comments, and I will feature them in the next Picture Prompt post right here on my blog with links back to you.

Picture Prompt:

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I stand back from the swamp, watching the men from a distance. One calls out in elation and plunges his hands into the green, murky water. The rest wait patiently, the tension prickling the air around us. Daring to creep closer, I crawl on all fours to the embankment. He withdraws a small chest from the depths. It looks ancient, just like the key I found on the bank yesterday.

“Don’t open it,” one man warns. “It must only be opened by the heir.”

“We don’t know where to find her,” the man replies, turning the chest in his hands.

“Yes, we do. She’s hiding over there.”


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman