From Original Fiction

Will the Literary Agent that just asked for a partial decide to represent me?

I’m not as good at horary astrology as I might like to be, but every once and awhile, I do give it a try. I’ve just finished my first astrological novel – The Curve of Capricorn (not quite like the Booker Prize winning The Luminaries, but just as good if I might say so myself).  In the process of sending out query letters to a few literary agents, I’ve just received a request for a partial.  For those familiar with the publishing industry, this is encouraging – but much could still go wrong. So I asked the ‘stars’ if the…

The Pinch of Pisces

Not only has post humanism made redundant our most fundamental assumption that God is superior to man but also that man is in turn superior to nature. This leaves nothing left but nature and the funny thing is that the distinctions were all manmade in the first place.

Elements of Postmodern Literature

While writing query letters to literary agents, I was forced to classify my  new novel, The Curve of Capricorn  as belonging to a particular genre. For better or worse, I’ve chosen postmodern literature. That might sound a bit presumptuous but here’s what I think it means: 1)   Postmodern literature attempts to depict the crisis of human identity (ethic, sexual, social, or cultural) and its struggle for legitimization in a hypocritical society. I realize that’s a mouthful – but suffice it to say that answering the question “who am I?” has become a good deal harder by constantly being forced to…

The Makings of a Good Character – Motivation

Motivation = that ‘something’ (or bundle of ‘something’s’) that initiates, guides, and maintains goal-oriented behaviour – that which your character wants, needs, or fears that drives the action.

Astrologically, I believe motivation is primarily symbolised by the placement and connections of three natal planets:

Valentine’s Day / Flash Fiction/ Shards of glass

With the twins asleep and my mother was watching reruns on the telly, I  took my chance.  Grabbing my purse, I slipped out the door, and hurried down to the shops.  This was Bob’s and my first Valentine’s Day together and it was going to be absolutely fabulous. I’d taken in in some  extra sewing and  with some economy had been able set aside just enough for the perfect gift.  According to his best mate, Jack, Bob had been a real wine connoisseur  in his  bachelor days.  Although we’d never shared anything more exotic than a pint of Fullers, it…

if you were a literary agent …how would you respond?

Dear Ms Agent, In the aftermath of The Great War when Europe is cloaked in social disillusionment, twenty-four year old, newly widowed, Sophie de Belcoupe returns home to Paris. With conventional ideals of the feminine thwarted, she determines it’s through art that she will forge her future. Complications arise when, by accepting a job on a design project directed by her beloved, Uncle Maurice, she reencounters Andrew John Hancock, the young American artist with whom she’d once been in love. As the project prospers so does Sophie and Andrew’s relationship. But both crash to a halt when, to cover his…

Tatterhood (A Norwegian Fairytale)/ Original Drama

Tatterhood (A Norwegian Fairytale) / Original Drama by Debra Moolenaar Players: Daisy (D)– the beautiful daughter Bella Dona (BD)– the ugly daughter with her goat and wooden spoon Queen Jessamine (QJ)– the Queen Pansy (P) – the maid Christmas Eve witch (CEW) ACT ONE / SCENE ONE QJ:       Where is my maid? Why is it so dark in here? P:         (enters) Good morning, your Highness.  Here’s your pot of pure white tea with two slices of Sicilian lemon each as thin as a dove’s tail, as per your order last night.   Shall I throw open these thick velvet curtains to allow…

One Enchanted Evening/original short fiction

  One Enchanted Evening by Debra Moolenaar On such an enchanted evening, nothing could go wrong. A soft summer breeze before Easter was a good omen and just look at those candy cane clouds. After battling her way off the number 7 tram at Leidseplein, Astrid hurried to the agreed-upon meeting spot. Stationing herself between a  trendy fish restaurant with mosaic walls and a cosy Thai café with thick Persian carpets for tablecloths, she shivered and drew closer, her new cashmere shawl. Which restaurant would he choose? “Pieter, over here!” She waved. “How lovely of you to invite me out…