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Genre: Other Genres
About jwhitLocation: Berwick, Victoria OZ Home Region: Website: http://www.janwhitaker.com/jansblog/ Favorite writers: Cornwell, Grafton, Stephen King, John Grisham Favorite music: any classical or jazz - ABC DIGG Non-noveling interests: painting, drawing |
Joined: Oktober 12, 2006 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 2 NaNoWriMo buddies: 55
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Brief Author Bio: I am a writer and a painter, as well as a mostly retired IT consultant. I am now teaching in an online IT program. This is my fourth year in Nanowrimo. I have no idea how I'll manage to get Nano in this year, but I'll have a go. It's a great way to focus my attention. I've neglected my writing too long. Writing in Nano is just the thing to get my fingers back on the keyboard for fiction. Starving For Life is the second in the series of Sadhu Singh/Taylor Franke mysteries. The first draft is finished, partly because of NNWM last year! The first, Lost Anchors, is available for sale. Both are set in and around Melbourne Australia. |
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Synopsis: World Without Words
By 2032, the world is a different place. Printed words are outlawed from the populace. Only the religious and political leaders are allowed to use written communication. Some underground groups are defying the powers and working surreptitiously to reinstate books. Led by Gentry Philomon and his friend Clark Brainard, the 'new book movement' come up against the established power structures to regain a rationality and freedom of information, countering the propaganda machine of the church and state.
Excerpt: World Without Words
Gentry stood and sidled out into the aisle, his shoulders hunching more than before, his jacket draping loose across his chest, a new weight descending on him as the meaning of Father Harold's words filtered into his headspace.
Harold pressed himself up from the bench and reached out, grasping Gentry's arm. "You will get through this. We all have so far."
Gentry glanced at him and nodded before slipping out the side door of St Patrick's.
Father Harold edged back up the steps to the altar, picked up the dropped taper then lifted his head to the statue, where the beatific face of the mother of Jesus shown down on him. "Dear Mother, what have we done?"
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