THERE IS SOMETHING DELICIOUS ABOUT WRITING THE FIRST WORDS OF A STORY. YOU NEVER QUITE KNOW WHERE THEY’LL TAKE YOU. (Beatrix Potter)
Hi. I am glad that you are visiting my blog site. Some examples of my writing are here for you to enjoy including up to date short stories and flash fiction. Welcome to the bizarre, funny, sad, dark, romantic and other worlds created by my imagination.
I welcome comments and feedback.
All stories are my original work and my copyright and can not be copied or distributed without my express permission.
You can buy my novel Silencio by following the links under the section ‘Buy My Novels’.
If you are interested in the research and background to Silencio or my new work A Life on the Line and/or want to know more about me or listen to my radio interviews why not take a look at my website http://www.laberrynovels.org
I am not a writer of humour. Although I enjoy a joke as much as most, I am hopeless at remembering punchlines and I don’t always have the wit to come up with something funny. In particular, at the present time, it can feel inappropriate to try to lighten the mood with humour.
And yet in my career as a NHS nurse and midwife, humour was how my colleagues and I dealt with difficult times. It didn’t mean that we weren’t sensitive and considerate when the occasion dictated, but it did allow us to express emotion in useful ways.
Once in a while someone makes me smile with a joke about haircuts or other pandemic dilemmas and I know that the human spirit will carry us through this worldwide challenge. So when I think about writing a pandemic journal I try to remember to include the positive thoughts in addition to the negative ones and to inject an item of humour.
I’m pleased to announce that the ebook version of Silencio has been relisted on http://www.amazon.co.uk and http://www.amazon.com
This beautiful poem was sent to me recently (thanks to J.C.) and is worth sharing with you today while we go through the difficult days of our own pandemic. I acknowledge the talent and skill of the writer Kathleen O’Mara.
History repeats itself. This poem that was written in 1869 & reprinted during the 1919 pandemic
It was written in 1869 by Kathleen O’Mara:
And people stayed at home
And read books
And they rested
And did exercises
And made art and played
And learned new ways of being
And stopped and listened
Someone meditated, someone prayed
Someone met their shadow
And people began to think differently
And people healed.
And in the absence of people who
Lived in ignorant ways
Dangerous, meaningless and heartless,
The earth also began to heal
And when the danger ended and
People found themselves
They grieved for the dead
And made new choices
And dreamed of new visions
And created new ways of living
And completely healed the earth
Just as they were healed.
This week, I wrote this in response to an exercise to write something about the clocks going back or forward. Just a bit of fun for these challenging days.
Mum Don’t frget to put tour clocks bick.
Sally Will do. For God’s sake, turn on predictive text Mother.
Mum How di I di ths>
Sally Don’t you remember. I wrote it down in your book.
Sally Your notebook. It’s by your calendar in the kitchen.
Mum Is it/
Sally Go there and look. Don’t hang up!!!!
Mum I@m here.
Sally Mother. Where have you gone? Answer the bloody phone.
Mum Hi. Beck agin.
Sally Why don’t you answer when it rings?
Sally Your phone. Answer it when it rings.
Mum How de I de tht
Sally Remember, I showed you the last time I came over. Press the button with the green telephone.
Mum Wher are yu
Sally I explained Mum. There’s a problem with a virus. I don’t want you to catch anything.
Mum I dnt car. I wnt to di anyway
Sally Don’t be ridiculous. What would I do without you to remind me to put the clocks back.
Mum Lov yu
Sally You too, Mum. I’ll call you in a minute. Remember press the green telephone.
Mum Ar u thre.
Esther Chilton has a blog and she poses challenges for writers of short fiction. This week she asks:
Can you tell a story in five words, using the word FREE in it somewhere?
My thoughts (some not particularly inspired) are as follows:
I want to break free.
I never appreciated being free.
Kindness is free. Please donate.
Words are free and wound.
Words are free and heal.
Words are free and comfort.
Use kind words, free gifts.
I used to be free.
That’s it for now but if you want to take a look at some others, visit esther’s blog at https://esthernewtonblog.wordpress.com/2020/04/02/can-you-tell-a-story-in-58/
During recent weeks, I have become addicted to the news and flick between channels on the television or scroll through apps on my devices, looking for something good to absorb. It’s a fool’s quest in this new age of the virus which challenges our human race. I have always believed in survival of the fittest, but here I am bordering on the criteria for elderly with a husband already past that summit. When did I become one of the weaker of our species?
Pre-outbreak, I would wake most mornings and steel myself for the spin, aerobics or other intense physical class I had planned, priding myself that I can keep up the pace when alongside those half my age. My sense of fun is not absent and my 2 1/2 year old granddaughter thinks I am one of her favourite playmates. My looks have faded but I do not see an old woman in the mirror. My doctor says my medical file is almost non-existent.
And yet, I saw a video which showed the removal of ventilators from those over 65 to allow younger victims a chance.
Now don’t get me wrong, I do think it is right that we try to protect the young so I do not object if that is what is necessary.
It has made me contemplate my life and my achievements, the greatest of which is the beautiful family I have created. All of the success at work and play pales into insignificance and I miss being able to hug my loved ones. It is for their own good and mine, and as we are reminded frequently, for the greater good of our NHS but if I had known those last hugs had to last this long I would have never let them go.