Christmas Eve.

This is my attempt to warm up my writing skills on a cold Christmas night. Merry Christmas everyone, wherever you may be!

Qc.

***

The night before Christmas was like any other night.

Quite a bit chillier than the darkshines of summer, and brisker than autumn’s ruffled hair, but it was dark and coccooning, as night should be. More

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Forever Summer.

This is a piece I’ve entered as part of an application for that Arvon Foundation course I mentioned before… I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is much appreciated xx

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Probably not in the Top Ten list of good ideas.

As you may already know, I am at University at the moment. And you may also realise that this time of year is Exam Season. So, adding two and two to make four and suchlike, you would probably wait a couple of weeks until the storm passes to make a start on anything big.

So why am I digging up all of my notes on my much-loved but neglected-of-late project, the Yes-It-Will-Be-A-Novel Alabaster & Nash? Well, shortly after waking up this morning I decided that no-one was mentally capable of working solid for an entire day, and that I would be in need of a break sooner or later. I’ve been wanting to sit down and write for ages, so why not make a happy partnership of the two? On that thought, I went and dug up all of my old notes.

A note to the reader: if something that appears to be a good idea waddles out of your half-asleep haze, you should probably take it with a pinch of salt.

Since I have all of my notes with me now, and I AM on a break, yes, I will give it a go. However, I’m half-expecting my creativity-starved mind to latch on like a rabid dog.

Enough for now, I should probably go rediscover just how addictive this really is.

The man in the mirror.

And the man on the other side of the window was shouting himself hoarse, banging the heel of his hand silently against the glass, so very hard. So hard that I could see it shaking… or was that me, shaking? His spittle ran down his side of the transparent cell;  tears fell down mine.

He was like me. But younger, more optimistic. He started to kick at the impenetrable barrier as I hung my head. He knew I’d given up. I could feel him flinging his whole weight against the silvering as I turned and walked away. I turned my back on him, my reflection. His silent screams left my ears ringing. No-one had died, but I covered all the mirrors in the house anyway.

I tell a lie.

Someone had died that day. I had killed off a little part of myself.

I never saw the  same man in the mirror again.

I know it’s not the brightest piece of writing, but this image came to  me this morning and I felt I had to share it… It was one of those moments where, as an artist of sorts, you wonder if you’ve stumbled across something profound. If I look back on this in a few months time, I probably won’t feel the same way about it. But now, in this moment, I feel I’ve if I’ve crossed some imaginary border in my head, and returned with some sparkling jewel.

So, yeah. Critique, enjoy, go out and do something fun and off-the-wall. And perhaps you should listen to your own man, or woman in the mirror. The one you see on sunshiney days, who tells you just how amazing you are. After all… they have a very good point.

A new story, snow and a silent witness.

This one has taken a little while for be to be satisfied enough to post it. I’m not completely sure what was the trigger for the inspiration of this short story, but I do know that I’ve come across the subjects before. Like psychometry, the art of reading facts from touching objects or people. Or the fact that there is nothing to show that the laws of physics would not work if time ran backwards. Or the belief in the divinity of stories and storytelling. Or the curiosity about the points of view of other people, animals, or even inanimate objects. I hope you enjoy my latest foray into short stories.

Click the ‘More?’ link to read on… More?

The hush of Autumn’s leaves.

I have another piece of fiction for you all today! I don’t think I’ve really appreciated the value of short stories until the last year or so, and only now have I realised the value of writing them. They are very motivational to the writer, as you can finish them in a relatively short period of time and feel very content with the result.

I’ve also been working a little on my blog – I have a Twitter account and a Facebook page, details of which will be going up on the ‘What Say You?‘ page shortly. I’ve done this on the advice of the amazing Timethief and her recommendation to read these tips on blog promotion.

Click the ‘More?’ tab for the new short story. More?

Sorry guys… here’s part two.

Now, know there’s been quite a gap between posts. I understand that it’s not the best start to a blog. But at the end of the day I have been ill and I am in the middle of my exams. The experienced bloggers and writers amongst you are probably shaking your heads at the screen about now, but the damage is done. I’m making a point to post this today so that I can carry on with other topics, so please treat it more like a draft than usual. For those of you new to this blog, you can read the beginning of Felix’s escapade here.

And so, finally, let’s get on with the story…
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Feeling Lucky? Part I

“So tell me, Felix, you think today’s your lucky day?”

I sat there uncomfortably. I admit, the awkward silence did contribute, but mainly it was the way they’d tied my elbows behind the too-small chair. The little man with the revolver stood behind me and continued to talk.

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The Post Office:

Disclaimer:

'Quintconsequential' is a word of my own invention, despite the definition in the style of the Oxford English Dictionary featured on the site. By all means, use it, whisper it, shout it from the rooftops. But please, remember that you heard it here first!