• www.inkwellwriters.ie

Jesko Zimmermann

Location: Balbriggan, Ireland


My love for writing was triggered by my love for reading. I remember the first time I read The Lord of the Rings and how it utterly captivated me with its detailed world. Since then, I was 15, I have been writing on and off, always wanting to create such a world and such an atmosphere of my own only to be distracted by other things in life. Recently, however, I have become more serious. I attended courses and joined a local writing group and managed to even finish a few stories. Though I hope this will only be the beginning.

Current project

I’m currently working on multiple projects. My main work-in-progress is a middle-grade science fiction novel which I’m currently polishing and preparing for submission to an agency. The story follows Jack Ortega who by circumstance beyond his control ends up two-hundred in the future. Together with the space ship Captain Trisha O’Neill goes on a quest to find his parents. On his journey the two discover strange new worlds and meet friendly and hostile aliens, and ultimately learn about themselves.
The story is inspired by the more whimsical elements of the original Star Trek series, but also conveys some hard science in a child-friendly portions. As a big fan of James A. Corey’s The Expanse books I had to make sure that I don’t bend the laws of physics too much.

My other projects are two animal led books. Willow the Mouse who together with his unlikely friend Stripe the Fox has to face magical and not so magical dangers in order to protect the world he knows. Currently I have written four stories for Willow and Stripe, which are as much about friendship as they are about adventure. My latest project follows Loki, a witch’s cat. I don’t know much yet about his story, but I know Loki. The rest will develop as I take him on his journey.

Writing sample

Loki became one with the night. Almost invisible but for the silver sheen of moonlight reflecting on his jet-black fur. Despite spending his days sleeping on the couch of his owner, Loki’s true home was the outdoors. And it showed. Lean and athletic from long excursions far beyond the borders of his owner’s garden, each of his movements was controlled and purposeful. Especially now when he was on the prowl. An invader had entered his territory. Another tom, the musky scent heavy in the soft night breeze. Loki hid his own scent, approaching the invader down-wind. Once he had made the mistake to ignore the movement of air. The cut on his ear was a permanent reminder of that carelessness. It was also the reason Loki never retracted his claws when attacking. The first strike decided the outcome of the fight.
Carefully he approached the other cat through a dense thicket of rhubarb leaves. His soft paws did not make the slightest sound on the wet earth. With his long whiskers he felt his way through the undergrowth. It was so dark under the canopy that even with his pupils so dilated, the yellow of his eyes barely showed, it was easy to miss a step if he didn’t know the ground so well. Ahead, however, where the moonlight touched the ground he saw his quarry as clear as if it were day. The other cat was careful but did not realise he was not alone, so Loki took his time. Each step as carefully planned as the moves in the games of chess his owner sometimes played played with the more friendly settlers living in these woods. All the while Loki observed the invader. A stray, scrawny and scruffy, Loki thought in disdain. But he did not let the feeling control his actions, though.
When Loki was finally in position he waited for the right moment to strike. Only when the other cats was within inches of Loki’s hiding place, he pounced.

It was a perfect attack. Without warning, Loki sped forward like a coiled spring. His paws ready to strike at the stray’s face. It should have been an easy victory. Only that his strike missed the target. Loki turned his head to find his quarry, only to see that the other cat had somehow moved backwards and was jumping at him now. Loki had no time to recover and rolled on his back to kick the tom with his hind legs. But again the other cat was too fast, jumping over Loki while pounding his face with a series of quick strikes. Loki expected to feel the deep pain of the stray’s claws digging into his skin but his opponent kept them retracted. His mistake, Loki thought as he scrambled up and launched himself at the other cat recovering from the jump. To his satisfaction he caught a hint of surprise on the scrawny face and delivered a quick swipe. But again he was to slow. The strays paw again hit him in the face. Loki was getting angry now. Pounce after pounce, swipe after swipe he struck, dropping all pretense of feline efficiency. He fought like a rabid dog. But each of his attacks struck air and was quickly answered by a hard and painful strike to his face. Had the other cat not retracted his claws, Loki would be a bloody mess by now.
The realisation hit Loki harder than any of the other cat’s attacks. He was being toyed with. It must have shown in his eyes because the other cat relaxed.
“You may have caught me by surprise Loki, but you’re soft,” the tom said.
“How do you know my name?”
“You’ll have to earn the answer to that question. Though I doubt you have what it takes.”
“I won’t take insults from some scrawny stray in my own territory.”
“And what are going to do about it?” Loki tensed but he was to weary to attack any further. Even if he weren’t, he didn’t believe he stood a chance against that strange tom. “I thought so, ” the stray continued. “Maybe there is hope. You’re not daft Loki, and your composure is admirable but you have been around humans too long. My lesson in humility will do you good. Not that I care.”
“What do you want from me?”
“From you?” the cat laughed. “Nothing at all. I’m looking for your owner.”
“Don’t you dare go near her.” Despite his weariness Loki arched his back.
“Are you afraid I might interrupt your comfort? Or do I sense loyalty? How curious to find such a canine trait in a cat.”
“Don’t you dare calling me a dog!”
“And there I admired your composure,” the stray sighed. “You misunderstand me. Dogs have many faults but their loyalty is not one of them. And I’m beginning to think I may have underestimated you. Shall we visit your owner together. I promise you my visit will be most welcome. And will you retract these claws of yours? No? Well then, have it your way. Caution saves lives after all. But be told by someone who has lived much longer than you: True strength lies in trust.”

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