Posted in 1940s, Antagonists, Historical fiction, Imre, Writing

WeWriWa—White-hot rage


Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. I’m now sharing from Chapter 45, “Imre’s Revenge,” of my hiatused WIP The Strongest Branches of Uprooted Trees.

It’s November 1945, and Imre has stayed behind in Budapest instead of being smuggled into Italy with his girlfriend Csilla and their friends. He’s determined to perform some modern Herculean labors, starting with going to Csilla’s hometown Abony to recover important possessions she hid last year.

The gendarme who now owns Csilla’s house, Mr. Mészáros, has discovered Imre in the cellar, and is adamant the unearthed valuables are now his property. Imre, however, insists he’s bringing them back to their rightful owner. If Mr. Mészáros refuses, Imre will tell the occupying Soviets a former Arrow Cross officer is in their midst.

War command to the armed nation!
Courtesy FOTO:Fortepan/Lissák Tivadar

“My girlfriend is on her way to Italy, far away from people like you. She doesn’t know I’m doing this.” Imre advanced towards him. “How would you feel if someone tortured you with electrical wires and foot-flogging?”

“But I’m not the criminal of an inferior race.”

Imre pushed Mr. Mészáros against the nearest wall, blinded by rage, and began punching him over and over again, like an unrestrained wild animal. He’d never punched anyone before, but there was a first time for everything. In his white-hot rage, he wasn’t aware of anything else, and didn’t know if Mr. Mészáros were saying anything or fighting back. Imre only became aware of his surroundings again when he slammed his fist into the brick wall and immediately felt a sharp, intense, throbbing pain. He looked down, and saw Mr. Mészáros on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth and nose.


I started reading at three (my first book was Grimm's Fairy Tales, the uncensored adult version), started writing at four, started writing book-length things at eleven, and have been a writer ever since. I predominantly write historical fiction family sagas/series. I primarily write about young people, since I was a young person myself when I became a serious writer and didn't know how to write about adults as main characters. I only write in a contemporary setting if the books naturally go into the modern era over the course of the decades-long stories being told over many books. I've always been drawn to books, films, music, fashions, et al, from bygone eras, and have never really been too much into modern things. If something or someone has appeal for all time, it'll still be there to be discovered after the initial to-do has died down. For example, my second-favorite writer enjoyed a huge burst of popularity in the Sixties and Seventies, but he wrote his books from 1904-43, and his books still resonate today, even after he's no longer such a fad. Quality lasts for all time.

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