Hey friends! It’s the first Wednesday of the month, which means that I share an excerpt of a writing project in progress and invite you to do the same. A paragraph or two to a page is best. Since we’re sharing work that is rough, it’s not a space for critique, though positive feedback is welcome!

Last month I shared a little bit of my story A Knight Restored, about an art conservator at a museum and a medieval knight who was turned into a stone statue. Over the centuries, this knight has developed the ability to talk to people in their dreams, which has kept him from losing his mind. In this scene, he’s gone into one of Emily’s dreams for the first time.



Tall cases full of books surrounded him in a grove of even taller trees. He saw Emily search one shelf and then another, appearing much as she did in waking life, save that in her dream she wore a white gown, more suited for Gryffen’s time than her own. As he approached, his heart pounded so loudly in his chest it nearly deafened him. He prayed that she would not flee and awake.

She straightened and looked at him. “It’s you.”

Now that Gryffen was speaking to her, he scarce knew what to say. He made a deep bow. “Lady Emily.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Sir Gryffen de Beaumont, who was oft called Sir Gryffen the Fierce, son of William de Beaumont, at your service.” Although he had been filled with joy when she could hear him before, while she was awake, the effort to convey even a short idea had drained his energy. This was so much easier.

“Emily Porter.” She shook her head. “But you’re not real. You’re a sculpture.”

He crossed the distance between them, for no fear touched her lovely features or sweet voice now. Oftentimes, that which frightened men and women did not alarm them in dreams. “Once I was a living man, as you see. I know not how long I have been trapped in the form of stone.”

Her lips parted. “That’s not possible.”

Gryffen could not restrain a bitter laugh. “Would that it were not. I can feel but not move, see but not speak, and none living can hear me. Until you.”

“I thought I was losing my mind,” she whispered. “I could hear you in my head. You told me to touch you.”

“More truth to say I begged,” he admitted.

She reached out and took his hand. Overflowing with gratitude at the simple contact, he bent down and pressed his lips to the tops of her fingers.

“Um. Okay.” She giggled as Gryffen straightened again.


WIP Wednesday Bryn Donovan


Please share something of your own — don’t be shy! Or if you are shy, you can just talk about what you’re working on, too.  Thanks for stopping by!