- 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
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.
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.’
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