MizElz
Well-Known Member
ok, i've posted some of my work on here before; have got to about the half way point with this book, and just want some opinions really. is it a true reflection? the scenarios are based on my own experiences, although all characters are fictional!
any opinions welcome (and i do mean that!)
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In the centre of the outdoor school, Harriet Howles stood, immaculately overdressed, her quilted, straining waistcoat unzipped slightly to display a smart collar and tie, with a faded blue riding hat perched upon her tightly-permed black hair. Her round face, also flushed, wore an owlish expression, as she looked from one pony to the next.
Harriet puffed out her chest. I, for those of you who do not know me properly, am Harriet Howles, she shouted, a little too loudly, I am as old as I feel and younger than I look. I like to see tidy ponies and safe riders; I am a big fan of William Fox-Pitt, and I have an inexplicable fear of cotton wool. She peered round at her charges, as if daring them to giggle. But they remained in silence, praying for escape from the dreaded Tack Inspection. Harriet gave a shrug, straining her waistcoat even further, and moved towards Susie, who gave a gulp.
Right then, lets start as we mean to go on, shall we? Stand by your ponies! said Harriet, reaching out a hand to inspect naughty Twizzles bridle. Silence fell upon the outdoor school; as Harriet examined every last inch of leather, blowing in each tiny hole to make sure no saddle soap suds lurked within, the other children looked at one another in horror. Having lifted the saddle flap to check underneath, she then proceeded to pick up Twizzles hooves, run her fingers through her mane and tail, before finally turning to Susie herself.
any opinions welcome (and i do mean that!)
********
In the centre of the outdoor school, Harriet Howles stood, immaculately overdressed, her quilted, straining waistcoat unzipped slightly to display a smart collar and tie, with a faded blue riding hat perched upon her tightly-permed black hair. Her round face, also flushed, wore an owlish expression, as she looked from one pony to the next.
Harriet puffed out her chest. I, for those of you who do not know me properly, am Harriet Howles, she shouted, a little too loudly, I am as old as I feel and younger than I look. I like to see tidy ponies and safe riders; I am a big fan of William Fox-Pitt, and I have an inexplicable fear of cotton wool. She peered round at her charges, as if daring them to giggle. But they remained in silence, praying for escape from the dreaded Tack Inspection. Harriet gave a shrug, straining her waistcoat even further, and moved towards Susie, who gave a gulp.
Right then, lets start as we mean to go on, shall we? Stand by your ponies! said Harriet, reaching out a hand to inspect naughty Twizzles bridle. Silence fell upon the outdoor school; as Harriet examined every last inch of leather, blowing in each tiny hole to make sure no saddle soap suds lurked within, the other children looked at one another in horror. Having lifted the saddle flap to check underneath, she then proceeded to pick up Twizzles hooves, run her fingers through her mane and tail, before finally turning to Susie herself.
