Wow, I've started writing again this week after a creative block that has lasted almost nine months. And today I ran two workshops for Worcester Literature Festival.
In the morning I did a couple of hours on "How to Get into Print" and this afternoon I did another two hours on "How to Promote Yourself as an Author" with my PR friend, Sylvia Herbert. I really enjoyed them and the feedback from both events was great.
Next is Tuesday when I'm MC and contributor to Worcester Sauce - tantalising and exotic pieces written and read by members of Worcester Writers' Circle. More details about that at http://www.worcslitfest.com/worcester-sauce/
Sunday, 19 June 2011
Monday, 2 August 2010
Fast Fiction for #WAG32 - Altered State
The challenge for this week's WAG (Writing Adventure Group) is to either create a character or observe someone who is partaking of a mind-altering substance. The piece can be as long or short as you want, using any form you like. No Rules! Now Write!
Drunk and Pissed Off
Edward stumbled in as I opened the door and landed on his knees. “God looks like it’s been a hard night.” I said as I helped him to his feet.
“Sorry Derek, just need to talk.”
“That’s okay mate, I’ll get the coffee on.”
I guided him to the sofa and went into the kitchen area that took up a corner of my living space. “What you been up to?”
“Bloody women,” he muttered. “Why do they do it?”
“What?”
Edward put his head in his hands. “Screw her, screw her boss.”
I left the coffee machine to do it’s stuff and sat down opposite him. There was only enough space for a two-seater sofa and easy chair, the rest was taken up with a 42 inch tele and my work table. That dominated the room but, after all, this was my office and my home.
“You can sleep in the bath if you want.”
“Thanks,” he said as the coffee machine gurgled to say “I’m ready”. I grabbed two mugs.
“Sugar?”
“Thanks.”
I put the mug on the table in front of him. “What happened?”
He grabbed the mug precariously and I reached forward just in case it went flying. Not that I could have done anything. He took a sip, leaned forward and peered at me over the top of the steaming coffee. “She screwed her boss.”
Drunk and Pissed Off
Edward stumbled in as I opened the door and landed on his knees. “God looks like it’s been a hard night.” I said as I helped him to his feet.
“Sorry Derek, just need to talk.”
“That’s okay mate, I’ll get the coffee on.”
I guided him to the sofa and went into the kitchen area that took up a corner of my living space. “What you been up to?”
“Bloody women,” he muttered. “Why do they do it?”
“What?”
Edward put his head in his hands. “Screw her, screw her boss.”
I left the coffee machine to do it’s stuff and sat down opposite him. There was only enough space for a two-seater sofa and easy chair, the rest was taken up with a 42 inch tele and my work table. That dominated the room but, after all, this was my office and my home.
“You can sleep in the bath if you want.”
“Thanks,” he said as the coffee machine gurgled to say “I’m ready”. I grabbed two mugs.
“Sugar?”
“Thanks.”
I put the mug on the table in front of him. “What happened?”
He grabbed the mug precariously and I reached forward just in case it went flying. Not that I could have done anything. He took a sip, leaned forward and peered at me over the top of the steaming coffee. “She screwed her boss.”
-o0o-
Monday, 19 July 2010
Let the Book Out Within You
Yesterday I ran a writing workshop in Birmingham. During the day we covered the basics of writing for both entertaining and for information-giving. But for two hours in the afternoon we also talked about the book business and how to get published. I shared my experiences with self publishing, PoD, digital printers and dealing with packagers and Harper Collins.
I had some great feedback from everyone in the group. The same response that I got when I ran it in London a couple of weeks ago.
Must repeat it again soon. I enjoyed it and so did the participants.
Email me if you want to know more.
I had some great feedback from everyone in the group. The same response that I got when I ran it in London a couple of weeks ago.
Must repeat it again soon. I enjoyed it and so did the participants.
Email me if you want to know more.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
Remember What Dad Said
This is the first 200 words of a piece I’m writing for the meeting of the Worcester Writers’ Circle next week.
‘You did what!’
‘I shot the cat.’
Edward took a deep breath to calm himself and said, ‘You better sit down and tell me about it.’
The cheap lino protested loudly as Darren pulled the metal chair away from the desk. The office was messy and he sat down awkwardly, his shoulders hunched and head bowed. He was completely out of place in the clean and crisp uniform that his mother religiously starched on Sundays.
‘Well?’
‘I just lost it boss.’
Darren shuffled in his seat and took a folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. ‘I’ve put down what happened. Do you want me to read it?’
‘No, give it here.’ Edward replied sharply. And with his arm stretched across the desk he snatched the paper and neatly unfolded it onto his desk. He flattened it with his palms and started to read.
‘Mum said I should put it all down.’
Edward looked up slowly and held his arm out like a stop sign. Darren took the hint and stared out of the window.
Remember What Dad Said
‘You did what!’
‘I shot the cat.’
Edward took a deep breath to calm himself and said, ‘You better sit down and tell me about it.’
The cheap lino protested loudly as Darren pulled the metal chair away from the desk. The office was messy and he sat down awkwardly, his shoulders hunched and head bowed. He was completely out of place in the clean and crisp uniform that his mother religiously starched on Sundays.
‘Well?’
‘I just lost it boss.’
Darren shuffled in his seat and took a folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. ‘I’ve put down what happened. Do you want me to read it?’
‘No, give it here.’ Edward replied sharply. And with his arm stretched across the desk he snatched the paper and neatly unfolded it onto his desk. He flattened it with his palms and started to read.
‘Mum said I should put it all down.’
Edward looked up slowly and held his arm out like a stop sign. Darren took the hint and stared out of the window.
Monday, 12 July 2010
Fast Fiction for #WAG29 - Coffee & Scissors
This week's WAG (Writing Adventure Group) is about habits: ours, a characters, or someone I've observed (we're all such stalkers). It can be anything from the unconscious way someone touches their face when they talk, or a deep-in-their-bones addiction. Your piece can be as long or short as you want, using any form you like. No Rules! Now Write!
As a challenge I thought that I'd write in the second person point of view. Not sure if it works, what do you think?
You'd already got your coffee when Pauline plonked her bag on her usual table and joined the back of the queue. You watched as she fidgeted while she waiting to order her particular brew - a three-shot cappuccino with soya. You took a sip of your own and saw the barista pass her a stack of magazines from the back room.
It was exactly the same last week. She took them to her table and went back to collect her coffee and almond croissant. Glancing at your watch you wrote the time in your notebook and checked what you'd written last Tuesday. The same to a tee; day, time, table, coffee, croissant, magazines and scissors. "Strange," you thought. "But that's what eccentric mystery authors must be like."
You took a deep breath because you needed to go for it before she got stuck in with the scissors. Getting up, you nonchalantly wandered off towards the toilet. But as you passed her table you did a double-take and said, "Pauline Prentice, isn't it?" She looked up and smiled. That's when you knew deep inside that the interview would work out.
As a challenge I thought that I'd write in the second person point of view. Not sure if it works, what do you think?
Coffee and Scissors
You'd already got your coffee when Pauline plonked her bag on her usual table and joined the back of the queue. You watched as she fidgeted while she waiting to order her particular brew - a three-shot cappuccino with soya. You took a sip of your own and saw the barista pass her a stack of magazines from the back room.
It was exactly the same last week. She took them to her table and went back to collect her coffee and almond croissant. Glancing at your watch you wrote the time in your notebook and checked what you'd written last Tuesday. The same to a tee; day, time, table, coffee, croissant, magazines and scissors. "Strange," you thought. "But that's what eccentric mystery authors must be like."
You took a deep breath because you needed to go for it before she got stuck in with the scissors. Getting up, you nonchalantly wandered off towards the toilet. But as you passed her table you did a double-take and said, "Pauline Prentice, isn't it?" She looked up and smiled. That's when you knew deep inside that the interview would work out.
Sunday, 16 May 2010
A Piece of Fiction – The Start of Something...
I wrote the this piece of fiction for WAG#22 (Writing Adventure Group). The challenge was to observe a stranger you'd think would make a good main character, and describe their physical features accurately so they come over as real individuals and not cardboard cut-outs.
Ten hours earlier everything was very different.
Her hair was short and her face thin. She recoiled back from the mirror and turned away in disgust. She hated her hair. Black and curly. She looked like an elf. Pointed ears, matching nose and no chin. At least she didn't have to worry about her figure. She looked athletic, which is the polite version of skinny. If anything she could do with a few more curves. But as she went to the gym four times a week and hardly ate, that was unlikely. And then there was the London marathon that she did last week.
She applied a slight coat of very pale lipstick and the silver earrings that were shaped like French beans. She'd chosen them because they showed off her thin face and highlighted her striking scarf. Black with thousands of silver sequins made it look like an alligator skin. The whole effect went well with her short black leather jacket and indigo skinny jeans. She stepped into her black ankle boots, the ones with the macho straps over the insteps, and stood back to admire herself.
Yes. Now she was ready for whatever the world threw at her.
The Start of Something...
Laura slowly opened and closed her fists and relaxed deeper into the crimson bathwater. She dreamily watched the blood ooze from her right wrist and swim like smoke into the water. She wondered how things had ended up like this.Ten hours earlier everything was very different.
Her hair was short and her face thin. She recoiled back from the mirror and turned away in disgust. She hated her hair. Black and curly. She looked like an elf. Pointed ears, matching nose and no chin. At least she didn't have to worry about her figure. She looked athletic, which is the polite version of skinny. If anything she could do with a few more curves. But as she went to the gym four times a week and hardly ate, that was unlikely. And then there was the London marathon that she did last week.
She applied a slight coat of very pale lipstick and the silver earrings that were shaped like French beans. She'd chosen them because they showed off her thin face and highlighted her striking scarf. Black with thousands of silver sequins made it look like an alligator skin. The whole effect went well with her short black leather jacket and indigo skinny jeans. She stepped into her black ankle boots, the ones with the macho straps over the insteps, and stood back to admire herself.
Yes. Now she was ready for whatever the world threw at her.
Sunday, 2 May 2010
Flash Fiction piece about a woman's revenge
Sweet Revenge
She struck him three times and took a step back. Stunned he looked down at the blood weeping from his chest and stomach. The squelch when she removed the knife had shocked them both and a second or two later he slumped to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
She dropped the knife and it bounced on the stone floor with a clink and a clunk. She looked down at him in disgust and placed her right foot on his chest. The sole of her red shoe slid in his blood and she pushed her stiletto heel deep into his wound. His mouth opened, a gurgling noise rose from deep in his throat and his head lopped to one side. He was gone.
She grinned and whispered, 'My turn you bastard.'
It hadn't always been like that. Once she had doted on him and had become bewitched by his charm. But that was a couple of years ago and it had turned to hate after six months. She vowed never to trust a man ever again. If only he hadn't seduced her mother.
Monday, 26 April 2010
Flash Fiction – Hidden Assets
I wrote the this piece of flash fiction for WAG#19 (the Writing Adventure Group). The challenge was to pick someone out of a crowd and describe what (you imagine) is in their pockets (Unless you want to be brave and ask them!) Give us both meaning and physical details, and don’t forget to let yourself be surprised.
Sharon slowly ran her hands down her thighs to smooth the tight dress and automatically wiggled her body in response. She took a step back and checked herself in the mirror, she smiled when she saw how the silk clung to her hips and over the cheeks of her bottom. Perfect. Everyone would see that she wore nothing underneath. The DI had been right, they wouldn't bother to frisk her looking like this.
She'd got up late this morning as it was going to be a long night. She'd hardly eaten and had spent most of the time psyching herself up for the assignment. She glanced at the diamante watch on her right wrist and took a slow deep breath to calm herself. It was only ten minutes before the car arrived so she went to the bathroom for the final time.
Harry watched her through the half-opened door as she reached down the top of her dress with her left hand. He saw the look of relief on her face when she found it was still perched safely beneath her right breast. She pulled at the single shoulder strap and checked the mirror again before she said, “Hope this is working guys. You getting me okay?”
Hidden Assets
Sharon slowly ran her hands down her thighs to smooth the tight dress and automatically wiggled her body in response. She took a step back and checked herself in the mirror, she smiled when she saw how the silk clung to her hips and over the cheeks of her bottom. Perfect. Everyone would see that she wore nothing underneath. The DI had been right, they wouldn't bother to frisk her looking like this.
She'd got up late this morning as it was going to be a long night. She'd hardly eaten and had spent most of the time psyching herself up for the assignment. She glanced at the diamante watch on her right wrist and took a slow deep breath to calm herself. It was only ten minutes before the car arrived so she went to the bathroom for the final time.
Harry watched her through the half-opened door as she reached down the top of her dress with her left hand. He saw the look of relief on her face when she found it was still perched safely beneath her right breast. She pulled at the single shoulder strap and checked the mirror again before she said, “Hope this is working guys. You getting me okay?”
Monday, 19 April 2010
Flash Fiction for #WAG18 - A Familiar Friend
I've restarted with The Writers' Adventure Group after a long break. This week's challenge is... Look around your workspace, favourite chair, back yard, etc, and notice the objects around you. Choose one that is so familiar that you no longer notice it, even though it’s right next to you. Describe it as though you’re seeing it for the first time and particularly any feelings you have about it, past or present. Would you miss it if it was gone? No rules! Just write!
I never did believe in sticking exactly to rules so this is my entry.
A Familiar Friend
Jamie stared at the bottle with sad eyes. It was almost empty and sat on their dining table in front of him. Although it was burgundy-shaped the contents had travelled much further. The orange label had one or two dribbles of red wine where he'd been careless with the drips. One of them had lengthened the 'L' in Malbec and dissected the label in half. It was organically-grown Fairtrade from the Co-op round the corner.
Slowly he reached out and picked it up. Tilting his head he squinted at the small print at the foot of the label. Produced in Argentina, bottled in Manchester. Thirteen and a half percent NBV from the cellars of La Riojana. He poured the last few drops into his empty glass and plucked her picture from the table. As he held it up his eyes drooped, his face dropped and he sat for a few seconds far away in his thoughts. He let the photo slide though his fingers and reached for his glass. He sank the last few dregs before he slumped forward onto the table in tears.
I never did believe in sticking exactly to rules so this is my entry.
A Familiar Friend
Jamie stared at the bottle with sad eyes. It was almost empty and sat on their dining table in front of him. Although it was burgundy-shaped the contents had travelled much further. The orange label had one or two dribbles of red wine where he'd been careless with the drips. One of them had lengthened the 'L' in Malbec and dissected the label in half. It was organically-grown Fairtrade from the Co-op round the corner.
Slowly he reached out and picked it up. Tilting his head he squinted at the small print at the foot of the label. Produced in Argentina, bottled in Manchester. Thirteen and a half percent NBV from the cellars of La Riojana. He poured the last few drops into his empty glass and plucked her picture from the table. As he held it up his eyes drooped, his face dropped and he sat for a few seconds far away in his thoughts. He let the photo slide though his fingers and reached for his glass. He sank the last few dregs before he slumped forward onto the table in tears.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Another Book Commission
Two weeks ago I got a commission to write another book and contribute three chapters to yet another. Both will be published in August 2010 for the BBC.
So I have 32,000 words to finish by 12 April. Phew. But I delivered the first three chapters yesteday and hope to send the next three early next week. In the swing of it now. Managing to write for a three hours every morning, about 2,000 words. Then researching and editing in the afternoon.
Watch this space!
So I have 32,000 words to finish by 12 April. Phew. But I delivered the first three chapters yesteday and hope to send the next three early next week. In the swing of it now. Managing to write for a three hours every morning, about 2,000 words. Then researching and editing in the afternoon.
Watch this space!
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Story Starters or 20-word Openers
I recently discovered a chat room on Twitter where people suggest the opening 20-odd words for a story - story starters. So now I often try and do some as a warm-up before I write my 250 words each day. Here are a few of them.
- They sat down together. Brian wiped his palms on his grubby jeans and looked up. "Catherine," he said without any emotion. #storystarters
- The tight dress showed all her bulges - you could't call them curves. She stifled a yawn and scanned the coffee shop as he... #storystarters
- Henry was reaching down for another CD so he didnt see the traffic stopped ahead. But he did look up in time to scream. #storystarters
- Louise mouthed the headline with a terrified expression. "Sadistic rapist freed after mistrial." #storystarters
- His arm was down her back, his hand on her slim waist. She sat contented. They were both in their 70s and still in love. #storystarters
- He nodded and his eyes had that bleary look. Soon his chin fell onto his tie and the light glistened off his shiny head. #storystarters
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
My 250 Words a Day Challenge
I've had a bad bout of writer's block over the last couple of months, but it's now starting to clear.
So I've set myself a challenge - to write over 250 words a day for six days every week. And when I've achieved that I'll go for 500 a day.
A good start today as I've done over 350!
So I've set myself a challenge - to write over 250 words a day for six days every week. And when I've achieved that I'll go for 500 a day.
A good start today as I've done over 350!
Monday, 23 November 2009
Finished my Collection of Short Stories
Sent my collection of fast fiction to my editor on Friday. Twenty four stories with each on a different theme from Worcester Writers' Circle - 25,000 words in all. I should have it back by the end of this week so I can get it printed before Christmas and put it on Amazon in the New Year.
Had lots of fun writing them and I think the result was worth all the effort.
Had lots of fun writing them and I think the result was worth all the effort.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
An exercise from a workshop on Writing Effective Dialogue
I attended a workshop on Writing Effective Dialogue at the Birmingham Book Festival last weekend. For the the first exercise the tutor played a recording of a normal conversation and asked us to write our own interpretation. This is what I wrote.
Sarah pushed open the heavy door, reached in and pulled at the light cord. The room gradually filled with a dull glow.
“It's big,” said Stephen. “Am I the only one using it?”
“Yes, it's all yours.”
“Fantastic.”
“It used to be the morgue.”
“Ah, that would explain the strange smell.”
Sarah walked almost 30 feet to the end of the room and pressed a couple of buttons on the control panel that was fixed on the wall. Stephen heard the slow hum of the air conditioning as it started up.
“That should clear it in a few minutes,” Sarah said when she got back.
“Thanks.”
“You can rearrange the tables any way you like.”
“Great.”
“When you've finished just make sure you get them to complete those forms,” she said pointing to a pile of papers by the water dispenser in the corner.
“OK.”
“We've put your stuff is in that cabinet and I'll bring your people up in half an hour or so. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Yes please, milk no sugar.”
“OK, I'll leave you to it and get one send down.”
“Great,” said Stephen as he walked to the cabinet in the corner and struggled to remove a large black leather bag.
--o0o--
Sarah pushed open the heavy door, reached in and pulled at the light cord. The room gradually filled with a dull glow.
“It's big,” said Stephen. “Am I the only one using it?”
“Yes, it's all yours.”
“Fantastic.”
“It used to be the morgue.”
“Ah, that would explain the strange smell.”
Sarah walked almost 30 feet to the end of the room and pressed a couple of buttons on the control panel that was fixed on the wall. Stephen heard the slow hum of the air conditioning as it started up.
“That should clear it in a few minutes,” Sarah said when she got back.
“Thanks.”
“You can rearrange the tables any way you like.”
“Great.”
“When you've finished just make sure you get them to complete those forms,” she said pointing to a pile of papers by the water dispenser in the corner.
“OK.”
“We've put your stuff is in that cabinet and I'll bring your people up in half an hour or so. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Yes please, milk no sugar.”
“OK, I'll leave you to it and get one send down.”
“Great,” said Stephen as he walked to the cabinet in the corner and struggled to remove a large black leather bag.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
A People-Watching Story
My inspiration for this piece of flash fiction came from half an hour of people-watching in a bar near Matlock in Derbyshire.
Neil was fed up. He’d been in the bar for 20 minutes and already finished half his pint. He had to drive back to the office so he couldn’t really have another. He just hoped that Jen wouldn’t be too long. He glanced across the room at the group of women eating their sandwiches in the corner. They looked like they were friends from work, although one stood out from all the rest.
She had a Roman nose and a sculptured face extenuated by her hair that was put up and fixed with a large black clip. Her only concession to colour was the deep blue nail varnish that matched her eyes. Otherwise she was dressed completely in black. An ankle-length black dress with a low cut neckline and short sleeves. Her almost Gothic appearance was polished off with a pair of black leather flip-flops and gold earrings the size of curtain-rings.
She ate her prawn sandwich without saying a word, although occasionally she looked up and listened to the buzz of everyone else’s conversation. Whenever she bit into her sandwich the mayonnaise dripped onto the chips on her plate. Every now and then she put the sandwich down, stretched her long slender fingers and wiped them on the red napkin which was on the table beside her. She’d then pick up a chip and eat it seductively. Neil was captivated and watched her unashamedly. He wondered what on earth she was doing with all the other women. She seemed so out of place.
‘Sorry, the traffic was a nightmare,’ announced Jen as she scraped the chair over the floor and sat down.
Neil looked up slightly annoyed at the interruption and said, ‘That’s OK, what would you like to drink?’
The Woman in the Black Dress
Neil was fed up. He’d been in the bar for 20 minutes and already finished half his pint. He had to drive back to the office so he couldn’t really have another. He just hoped that Jen wouldn’t be too long. He glanced across the room at the group of women eating their sandwiches in the corner. They looked like they were friends from work, although one stood out from all the rest.
She had a Roman nose and a sculptured face extenuated by her hair that was put up and fixed with a large black clip. Her only concession to colour was the deep blue nail varnish that matched her eyes. Otherwise she was dressed completely in black. An ankle-length black dress with a low cut neckline and short sleeves. Her almost Gothic appearance was polished off with a pair of black leather flip-flops and gold earrings the size of curtain-rings.
She ate her prawn sandwich without saying a word, although occasionally she looked up and listened to the buzz of everyone else’s conversation. Whenever she bit into her sandwich the mayonnaise dripped onto the chips on her plate. Every now and then she put the sandwich down, stretched her long slender fingers and wiped them on the red napkin which was on the table beside her. She’d then pick up a chip and eat it seductively. Neil was captivated and watched her unashamedly. He wondered what on earth she was doing with all the other women. She seemed so out of place.
‘Sorry, the traffic was a nightmare,’ announced Jen as she scraped the chair over the floor and sat down.
Neil looked up slightly annoyed at the interruption and said, ‘That’s OK, what would you like to drink?’
Sunday, 23 August 2009
Help me end a piece of fast fiction.
I'm writing a piece of fast fiction for Worcester Writers' Circle on the theme of a “domestic dilemma”. My inspiration has come from a 140 character story posted on Twitter by @veryshortstory. I have used it as the first sentence. As you can see from the title, I have already come up with a possible ending. But I wondered if you might have some ideas which you could leave as a comment.
Brian held her pretty hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. Enjoying the moment, then putting it with the rest, in the freezer.
He gently closed the lid and heard the seal sigh when he turned the key to lock it. Even though the garage was attached to the house he didn't want to take a chance with nosy kids or a sneak thief. He went though the connecting door to the kitchen and sat down at the table to get his breath back.
It wasn't as though she was heavy, he just didn't realise how awkward a dead body could be. But it was done. He looked at the kettle for a moment, then got up and took a bottle of wine from the cupboard in the corner. He frowned when he stared at the label and selected another instead. On the way to the living room he grabbed the notepad and pencil that Emily always kept by the phone in the hall.
He carefully placed the bottle and the notepad on the coffee table and went to the sideboard to get the corkscrew and a red wine glass. Before he sat down on the sofa he withdrew the cork and sniffed it out of habit. He then poured a large glass and admired it's deep colour, like damson jam. Now he sat down to think.
He had two simple problems, really just many other domestic dilemmas. The first was what to do with all the food that he'd had to remove so Emily would fit. And the second problem was how to dispose of the freezer. He couldn't very well ring up the council, nor could he take it down to the tip in his estate car. He took another slug of his wine and wrote a few things on the pad. Only one looked like it might work, but it would take a lot of courage. He leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He'd just have to hope that the money came through soon.
The Dinner Party
Brian held her pretty hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. Enjoying the moment, then putting it with the rest, in the freezer.
He gently closed the lid and heard the seal sigh when he turned the key to lock it. Even though the garage was attached to the house he didn't want to take a chance with nosy kids or a sneak thief. He went though the connecting door to the kitchen and sat down at the table to get his breath back.
It wasn't as though she was heavy, he just didn't realise how awkward a dead body could be. But it was done. He looked at the kettle for a moment, then got up and took a bottle of wine from the cupboard in the corner. He frowned when he stared at the label and selected another instead. On the way to the living room he grabbed the notepad and pencil that Emily always kept by the phone in the hall.
He carefully placed the bottle and the notepad on the coffee table and went to the sideboard to get the corkscrew and a red wine glass. Before he sat down on the sofa he withdrew the cork and sniffed it out of habit. He then poured a large glass and admired it's deep colour, like damson jam. Now he sat down to think.
He had two simple problems, really just many other domestic dilemmas. The first was what to do with all the food that he'd had to remove so Emily would fit. And the second problem was how to dispose of the freezer. He couldn't very well ring up the council, nor could he take it down to the tip in his estate car. He took another slug of his wine and wrote a few things on the pad. Only one looked like it might work, but it would take a lot of courage. He leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. He'd just have to hope that the money came through soon.
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
Started Writing Fiction After a Five Week Break
I had a coffee in Birmingham yesterday and watched a young couple chatting a couple of tables away. I was fascinated by the fact that he only ever looked at her when she talked. So I wrote these 200 words this morning as writing practice.
Her finger flicked over the touchpad and his face zoomed out to fill the screen. He looked sexy with a three-day stubble and short dark hair gelled all spiky. She could see his hairy chest in V neck of his red polo shirt and clearly saw the bluebird tattooed on the right side of his neck. Or was it his left? She was never sure with video chat. He was going on about the latest computer game and she was mesmerised by the sight of his lip stud flashing in the light. It was in the corner of his mouth and every now and then she got a glimpse of his tongue stud. They always turned her on.
He leaned back and scratched his chin. ‘The stubble must be itchy,’ she thought. Suddenly he stopped mid-sentence and froze. ‘Damn,’ she said. ‘Blood thing’ s locked again.’
Video Chat
Ami stared at the laptop with Harry’ s voice in her earphones. ‘Why didn’ t he ever look at her when he talked?’ At first she’ d thought he had another computer screen to one side. But sometimes he looked to the other way, so it couldn’ t be that. Maybe he just didn’ t like to chat face to face.Her finger flicked over the touchpad and his face zoomed out to fill the screen. He looked sexy with a three-day stubble and short dark hair gelled all spiky. She could see his hairy chest in V neck of his red polo shirt and clearly saw the bluebird tattooed on the right side of his neck. Or was it his left? She was never sure with video chat. He was going on about the latest computer game and she was mesmerised by the sight of his lip stud flashing in the light. It was in the corner of his mouth and every now and then she got a glimpse of his tongue stud. They always turned her on.
He leaned back and scratched his chin. ‘The stubble must be itchy,’ she thought. Suddenly he stopped mid-sentence and froze. ‘Damn,’ she said. ‘Blood thing’ s locked again.’
Wednesday, 15 July 2009
What I Learnt from Writing my Marketing Book
Six weeks ago Harper Collins commissioned me to write a 24,000 word book on marketing. I delivered the manuscript last week and they accepted it without any changes, which was great news. It was a hard five weeks where I wrote something most days. But I did it, and I learnt a lot about writing non-fiction.
Peter Spalton, soon to be a published author.
- Non-fiction takes longer to write than fiction which comes from one's imagination without the need for much research.
- Preparation seems to be the key to non-fiction. Unlike fiction where my characters and scenes have a life of their own and develop in real time as I write them.
- I found it easier to prepare a structure with the titles of each chapter and the headings for each topic. I agreed these with the publisher before I put pen to paper.
- It was great to have a professionally designed format that the publisher insisted I stick to. It was relatively easy to write the contents and it made sure that I didn't waffle.
- I seem to work best in two-hour chunks. After that my brain hurt and I lost concentration and flow. I've discovered that I write best first thing in the morning after a walk and breakfast.
- You should write it all the way through before you read anything you've written. When I read previous chapters I got distracted and fiddled with them. In the end I just wrote it until I'd finished.
- It's easiest to skip over the bits that need more research or effort and back-fill when you reach the end. Otherwise you lose momentum.
- My brain is always miles ahead of my fingers on the keyboard. I wrote it all by hand in a notebook and then edited as I typed it in. I think that added extra time so I will go on a touch-typing course at the local college in the Autumn.
- When I write fiction I always read it out aloud. I did the same with this book after I'd back-filled it. That took four hours but it highlighted some poor grammar, typos and the odd bit of weak structure.
Peter Spalton, soon to be a published author.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
If Only... - Entry for WAG 14
I have placed the instructions for this Writing Adventure Group challenge at the end of this post. But in essence it was about a time when you wished you could change something that happened.
Emily’s mobile bleeped above the noisy crowd. She rummaged in the Gucci bag that Daryl had given her for Christmas. Her heart missed a beat when she saw it was a message from Steve. It had only been a week although it seemed like a month of sleepless nights when she couldn’t get him out of her head.
Nervously she pressed the OK key and winced when she saw the three-word message. Her thumb frantically worked the keys in response, ‘What brought that on?’ She pressed send, sat back and looked aimlessly around the departure lounge as she waited for his reply. It was buzzy with business people this time of the year with one or two couples jetting away for a short break. Emily was due to be called in ten minutes and then she’d be on her way to Dundee. Not long for her to make a final choice.
She looked blankly at the ceiling and frowned. Then, before he could reply she reached for her phone with determined look and sent another message, ‘I love you too, but you should have said...it’s too late now.’
Instructions for “WAG #14: Do-Overs”
Thanks to Carol for the topic idea! (This one is more of a mental/emotional exercise than observational, but you get bonus points if you can somehow tie this to a person you can see and describe OR a physical object.) Think of a time where you’d like to change what happened - whether it’s to get that witty retort in or to say something you never got the chance to say. Write how it should have been and compare it to the reality.
If Only...
Emily’s mobile bleeped above the noisy crowd. She rummaged in the Gucci bag that Daryl had given her for Christmas. Her heart missed a beat when she saw it was a message from Steve. It had only been a week although it seemed like a month of sleepless nights when she couldn’t get him out of her head.
Nervously she pressed the OK key and winced when she saw the three-word message. Her thumb frantically worked the keys in response, ‘What brought that on?’ She pressed send, sat back and looked aimlessly around the departure lounge as she waited for his reply. It was buzzy with business people this time of the year with one or two couples jetting away for a short break. Emily was due to be called in ten minutes and then she’d be on her way to Dundee. Not long for her to make a final choice.
She looked blankly at the ceiling and frowned. Then, before he could reply she reached for her phone with determined look and sent another message, ‘I love you too, but you should have said...it’s too late now.’
Instructions for “WAG #14: Do-Overs”
Thanks to Carol for the topic idea! (This one is more of a mental/emotional exercise than observational, but you get bonus points if you can somehow tie this to a person you can see and describe OR a physical object.) Think of a time where you’d like to change what happened - whether it’s to get that witty retort in or to say something you never got the chance to say. Write how it should have been and compare it to the reality.
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Wonderful Memories – WAG 12
I had plenty of time for this week’s Adventure as I spent an hour and a half on the train to London. Loads of time to scribble. The Adventure, an idea from Lulu, was to describe something from memory and include as much detail as possible including impressions. My own personal challenge was to write it in the first person (a new one for me) and from a female point of view (which I had done before, but never in this context). I’ll leave you to decide which parts are memories and which are pure fantasy. I suppose I should warn you that it contains erotic images.
My thinking spot was calm and restful. All I could hear was the brook bubbling and a pair of buzzards screeching as they flirted high in the sky. The rough bark of the giant chestnut tree pressed into my back and the cool damp earth penetrated my blanket. I closed my eyes and thought of Robert. My mind wandered and drifted back to our first night together almost a year ago.
He’d sent me a text when he got the hotel and said that he’d book in and wait in his car. I felt just like a teenager again as I drove slowly up the gravel drive to a small country hotel that looked like it had been build by a wealthy Victorian industrialist. I saw Robert sat in his car and the butterflies in my stomach added to the tension so I took two attempts to park. At last I switched off the engine and he came over. He looked so elegant, handsome and sexy.
Fumbling to get my handbag off the passenger’s seat I almost dropped it, but luckily I didn‘t. I got out and managed to straightened my dress before he reached me. I’d chosen a little strappy summer one the colour of ripe peaches with heels to match. He said ‘you look lovely’ and kissed me on the lips before he took my hand. I’m sure I must have smiled even though my stomach was churning. He took my bag and we nervously walked hand in hand through the front door and, with a nod to the girl behind the desk, upstairs.
The room was a giant bay window in the shape of a semi-circle. Against the straight wall was a king sized bed positioned so you could look out over the formal rose garden and manicured lawns. I thought it was perfect place for our first tryst.
‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ He said as he put my bag down in the corner, ‘would you like to freshen up before we have a drink?’
‘Yes if you don’t mind’, I replied as I moved closer to him. I could almost feel the warmth of his body and sensed his nervousness. It was like we were fifteen again. He put his arms around me and we kissed slowly and softly. He smelt lovely and I felt him gently nibble my bottom lip which conjured up scrumptious thoughts and made me feel squidgy. Unfortunately he broke off, took a deep breath and said ‘why don’t you go and wash so we can then have a drink in the garden.’
I walked slowly to the bathroom and looked around seductively as I opened the door. I kept him waiting for a few minutes before I came out with fresh lipstick and a sly smile. We walked downstairs onto the terrace and he picked a table for two overlooking the rose garden and the fields towards the church in the distance. The waiter came over with the menus and Robert asked what I’d like to drink. I suggested dry white wine as I didn’t want to fall asleep quite yet. He ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
Drinks and dinner were leisurely and, even though I could see that Robert was eager, I took my time to savour the food and even ordered coffee to build the anticipation. So it was about 10 o’clock when we eventually walked upstairs hand in hand. He was obviously nervous as he fumbled with the key a few times before he managed to unlock the door.
Although it was still light outside and the curtains were open, he’d left on one of the bedside lamps. My heart was in my mouth as he moved slowly and purposefully towards me, leant down and kissed me on the mouth. His lips were soft, moist and tasted sweet in spite of the coffee. I felt his hands wander down my back and over my bottom. I pulled myself into him and he responded by sliding his hands up my sides until they were almost on my breasts. I knew that he could feel the curve of my left breast and I felt his hand move slowly until the palm pressed on my nipple. I knew he would feel it getting erect and that excited me.
He gently slipped the straps of my dress over my shoulders and I wiggled my hips so it slid down to the floor. I stepped backwards out of it and started to unbutton his shirt. ‘My turn now,’ I thought as I put my palms on his chest and pushed it off his shoulders. Then I pulled him close so I could feel his bare chest against my body. ‘I love skin,’ I whispered in a deep sexy voice.
‘Yes, so do I,’ he murmured.
I wanted him to undo my bra, but he didn’t. So I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and let it fall to the floor. Backing towards the bed I sat down, kicked off my heels and lay back with my hands behind my head to watch him take off his shoes, socks and chinos. He looked fit and I was glad that I’d bought some special underwear. I knew that I’d made the right choice when I saw the pleasure on his face as he feasted his eyes on my lacy balcony-bra and tiny panties. Peachy and almost see through with tiny light brown flowers embroidered in the silk. I closed my eyes as he knelt down beside me, smelt his aftershave and imagined him admiring my smooth body.
It seemed ages before I felt his breath on my tummy which was quickly followed by a kiss just before he ran his fingertips over the top of my leg. My stomach stirred with anticipation as he moved his kisses further up my body almost casually brushing each of my breasts through my bra. I heard myself moan and could feel my nipples pressing hard against the fabric. The sensation sent a tingle down my body and I desperately wanted him to take it off and suck them hard. Instead he kissed my neck and eased his finger under the top of my bra to rub it against my nipple. He lay down beside me and flicked his tongue into my ear which made me shiver. I turned towards him and smiled as he tweaked the clash of my bra between his thumb and fore finger. Oh what relief to feel my breasts set free at last.
I sensed rather than felt his lips brush lightly over my left nipple, but I felt myself quiver when the tip of his tongue circled the one on my right breast. Now I wanted him and I pulled his head down so he would suck them hard. The sensation was delicious. I felt his fingers moving between my legs and I knew that my wetness was seeping through my panties. The knot in my stomach tightened when he pulled them to one side. I reached down and grasped him, he felt good.
At that moment the urgency overwhelmed us both and with a flurry of limbs we were lying naked side by side. I turned him onto his back and sat astride his stomach with a wicked laugh. He responded by reaching up and rolling both my nipples between a finger and thumb. I leant back and he pulled hard. There was no pain, just exquisite pleasure.
I saw him watch as I bent down towards him and sensed his skin tingle as I swept my breasts over his tummy. I could now feel him hard between my cleavage and I knew that my hair brushed against his chest when I teased and kissed him. Suddenly he rolled me onto my back and, with a sense of urgency, I reached down to guide him. It wasn’t long before I was panting as I rode the wave and I felt myself squeeze him tighter and tighter as I got louder and louder until my legs shook and shook.
We lay there in each other’s arms with the breeze from the open window cooling the sweat off our bodies. As I started to doze I knew that I’d always cherish the pressure of his chest against my breasts and the comfort of our legs intertwined. I kissed him gently before I drifted into a blissful sleep.
I subconsciously felt Robert stir and vaguely heard the doves cooing outside the window. I thought that he reached out to check that I was still here before he kissed me gently on the cheek. I felt his hands wander over my back and I started to come alive. My skin tingled as he ran his fingers down my backbone and between my legs. I felt myself drift into another world as he started to work his magic on me. Almost automatically I pressed my hips towards him so I could feel him hard against my stomach.
Much later we sat in bed drinking tea and chatting about nothing in particular.
A blackbird suddenly rustled in the bushes and dragged me back to my thinking spot. I smiled wistfully as I remember the wonderful moments we’d had together, now just memories. We were married, it was just a shame it was not to each other.
Wonderful Memories
My thinking spot was calm and restful. All I could hear was the brook bubbling and a pair of buzzards screeching as they flirted high in the sky. The rough bark of the giant chestnut tree pressed into my back and the cool damp earth penetrated my blanket. I closed my eyes and thought of Robert. My mind wandered and drifted back to our first night together almost a year ago.
He’d sent me a text when he got the hotel and said that he’d book in and wait in his car. I felt just like a teenager again as I drove slowly up the gravel drive to a small country hotel that looked like it had been build by a wealthy Victorian industrialist. I saw Robert sat in his car and the butterflies in my stomach added to the tension so I took two attempts to park. At last I switched off the engine and he came over. He looked so elegant, handsome and sexy.
Fumbling to get my handbag off the passenger’s seat I almost dropped it, but luckily I didn‘t. I got out and managed to straightened my dress before he reached me. I’d chosen a little strappy summer one the colour of ripe peaches with heels to match. He said ‘you look lovely’ and kissed me on the lips before he took my hand. I’m sure I must have smiled even though my stomach was churning. He took my bag and we nervously walked hand in hand through the front door and, with a nod to the girl behind the desk, upstairs.
The room was a giant bay window in the shape of a semi-circle. Against the straight wall was a king sized bed positioned so you could look out over the formal rose garden and manicured lawns. I thought it was perfect place for our first tryst.
‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ He said as he put my bag down in the corner, ‘would you like to freshen up before we have a drink?’
‘Yes if you don’t mind’, I replied as I moved closer to him. I could almost feel the warmth of his body and sensed his nervousness. It was like we were fifteen again. He put his arms around me and we kissed slowly and softly. He smelt lovely and I felt him gently nibble my bottom lip which conjured up scrumptious thoughts and made me feel squidgy. Unfortunately he broke off, took a deep breath and said ‘why don’t you go and wash so we can then have a drink in the garden.’
I walked slowly to the bathroom and looked around seductively as I opened the door. I kept him waiting for a few minutes before I came out with fresh lipstick and a sly smile. We walked downstairs onto the terrace and he picked a table for two overlooking the rose garden and the fields towards the church in the distance. The waiter came over with the menus and Robert asked what I’d like to drink. I suggested dry white wine as I didn’t want to fall asleep quite yet. He ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.
Drinks and dinner were leisurely and, even though I could see that Robert was eager, I took my time to savour the food and even ordered coffee to build the anticipation. So it was about 10 o’clock when we eventually walked upstairs hand in hand. He was obviously nervous as he fumbled with the key a few times before he managed to unlock the door.
Although it was still light outside and the curtains were open, he’d left on one of the bedside lamps. My heart was in my mouth as he moved slowly and purposefully towards me, leant down and kissed me on the mouth. His lips were soft, moist and tasted sweet in spite of the coffee. I felt his hands wander down my back and over my bottom. I pulled myself into him and he responded by sliding his hands up my sides until they were almost on my breasts. I knew that he could feel the curve of my left breast and I felt his hand move slowly until the palm pressed on my nipple. I knew he would feel it getting erect and that excited me.
He gently slipped the straps of my dress over my shoulders and I wiggled my hips so it slid down to the floor. I stepped backwards out of it and started to unbutton his shirt. ‘My turn now,’ I thought as I put my palms on his chest and pushed it off his shoulders. Then I pulled him close so I could feel his bare chest against my body. ‘I love skin,’ I whispered in a deep sexy voice.
‘Yes, so do I,’ he murmured.
I wanted him to undo my bra, but he didn’t. So I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and let it fall to the floor. Backing towards the bed I sat down, kicked off my heels and lay back with my hands behind my head to watch him take off his shoes, socks and chinos. He looked fit and I was glad that I’d bought some special underwear. I knew that I’d made the right choice when I saw the pleasure on his face as he feasted his eyes on my lacy balcony-bra and tiny panties. Peachy and almost see through with tiny light brown flowers embroidered in the silk. I closed my eyes as he knelt down beside me, smelt his aftershave and imagined him admiring my smooth body.
It seemed ages before I felt his breath on my tummy which was quickly followed by a kiss just before he ran his fingertips over the top of my leg. My stomach stirred with anticipation as he moved his kisses further up my body almost casually brushing each of my breasts through my bra. I heard myself moan and could feel my nipples pressing hard against the fabric. The sensation sent a tingle down my body and I desperately wanted him to take it off and suck them hard. Instead he kissed my neck and eased his finger under the top of my bra to rub it against my nipple. He lay down beside me and flicked his tongue into my ear which made me shiver. I turned towards him and smiled as he tweaked the clash of my bra between his thumb and fore finger. Oh what relief to feel my breasts set free at last.
I sensed rather than felt his lips brush lightly over my left nipple, but I felt myself quiver when the tip of his tongue circled the one on my right breast. Now I wanted him and I pulled his head down so he would suck them hard. The sensation was delicious. I felt his fingers moving between my legs and I knew that my wetness was seeping through my panties. The knot in my stomach tightened when he pulled them to one side. I reached down and grasped him, he felt good.
At that moment the urgency overwhelmed us both and with a flurry of limbs we were lying naked side by side. I turned him onto his back and sat astride his stomach with a wicked laugh. He responded by reaching up and rolling both my nipples between a finger and thumb. I leant back and he pulled hard. There was no pain, just exquisite pleasure.
I saw him watch as I bent down towards him and sensed his skin tingle as I swept my breasts over his tummy. I could now feel him hard between my cleavage and I knew that my hair brushed against his chest when I teased and kissed him. Suddenly he rolled me onto my back and, with a sense of urgency, I reached down to guide him. It wasn’t long before I was panting as I rode the wave and I felt myself squeeze him tighter and tighter as I got louder and louder until my legs shook and shook.
We lay there in each other’s arms with the breeze from the open window cooling the sweat off our bodies. As I started to doze I knew that I’d always cherish the pressure of his chest against my breasts and the comfort of our legs intertwined. I kissed him gently before I drifted into a blissful sleep.
I subconsciously felt Robert stir and vaguely heard the doves cooing outside the window. I thought that he reached out to check that I was still here before he kissed me gently on the cheek. I felt his hands wander over my back and I started to come alive. My skin tingled as he ran his fingers down my backbone and between my legs. I felt myself drift into another world as he started to work his magic on me. Almost automatically I pressed my hips towards him so I could feel him hard against my stomach.
Much later we sat in bed drinking tea and chatting about nothing in particular.
A blackbird suddenly rustled in the bushes and dragged me back to my thinking spot. I smiled wistfully as I remember the wonderful moments we’d had together, now just memories. We were married, it was just a shame it was not to each other.
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