First chapters of some possible novels, I'd welcome feedback on which you'd like to see me write
I hadn't expected the garden. Not a real, growing, colourful garden, crammed with life-sustaining sunshine.
Brian Wilson was 10 years, 3 months and 22 days old when he realised that his dreams were different from other childrens’.
2 a.m. I stared at the wall in front of me, nothing better to do. The wall was plain, no paintings, no pictures, just greying white. Dull and ever-so-slowly ageing.
The books in the window have caught my imagination since the first time I saw them. They're in the front window of a house I pass on the way to work, parallel to Brighton seafront.