In celebration of the fact that my book has now gone on sale at a cheaper rate on Amazon, I wanted to share another snippet. The Kindle version is approximately half price for the next month and I would love some new readers. Check out my dramatic book and maybe snap up an ebook if it takes your interest.
At the time of me writing this the UK version is £1.75 and the US version is $2.18.
The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost
Extract from Chapter 19 (Max)
Today we all sat around a table, going through every line and discussing possible staging. The director, Mr Simmons, was very helpful and guided us kindly through each scene, suggesting ways we could alter our tone and bring out the characters appropriately. He was a legend in school, and we all took what he said very seriously, often taking time to note down his suggestions. My scripts ended up covered in copious notes, which I would probably have to type up later in order to make sense of them. The reviews for last year’s play were outstanding, and none of us wanted to let the others down. We all badly wanted to pull off a masterpiece and the concentration on our faces must have looked intense.
My phone vibrated and I caught it in time to send it to voicemail, but everyone seemed to glare at me as I tried to play it down. Dad then texted me, and I could see that it flashed up with the words ‘pizza later?’ This brought out a smile, which distracted me from what I was about to say.
“Keep up, Max,” Mr Simmons nudged, supportively.
Lisa repeated her cue to me and I managed to get through a few sentences correctly, even pausing for effect whilst showing a concerned expression on my face. A small clap came about as I completed the monologue, and a few more people read their lines before we were stopped and told to get a drink or use the washrooms.
Taking the opportunity to message Dad back, I agreed a time and he said he would pick me up. It was great because I hadn’t seen him for over a week now. I wondered if he had been around Sam’s house, but he hadn’t mentioned it and I hadn’t bothered to ask. With Sam and me, the less said about our two dads at the moment, the better.
Since we both discovered them together, we had been a bit emotionally scarred. I mean, I love gay people. I love my dad. I always thought Sam’s dad was great. But putting all of those elements together at the same time freaked me out. It would just take some getting used to I supposed, and the last thing I wanted was for it to drive a wedge between Dad and me.
It was partly my fault though that Mum found out; as in my distress I had messaged Chloe for support and she had told her nan, who just happened to be my neighbour, old Ruby. So taken aback, Ruby had gone straight around to tell my very surprised mum, who immediately flipped out, threw a toaster across the room, nearly hitting me and chucked everything that Dad possessed into bin bags, dumping them in the driveway.
Anyway, that was over with; the dust was settling, and it was important that Dad and I got to spend some quality time together. When he came to pick me up after rehearsals, he nodded at me to get in the car and drove off quickly, hardly speaking all the way there. When we sat down in Pizza Bob’s, I made the first move and asked him what he had been up to.
He was friendly and relieved that I was still speaking to him. I was, of course, likewise pleased that he was not holding a grudge. We managed to make some small talk and he mentioned how bad the football game had been the previous night and how our favourite team’s manager was appalling and should have been sacked. We definitely agreed on that. It made him laugh when I did an impression of the ignorant goalie who was basically not even paying attention when the striker came by and scored from up close. Dad seemed at ease with me, so I considered bringing up Josh, my old teacher.
Thank you for checking out an extract from my dramatic book – ‘The Fathers, the Sons and the Anxious Ghost’. I hope that you enjoyed it and maybe even found it intriguing. Check out Another Book Extract here.