EmmaD

I think for me Salter stands out because the spareness is also lyrical. I find many ‘less is more’ authors to be a bit dull, but his prose manages to be as poetic as it is simple

Salter is very much a writer of men. I was somewhat horrified by his treatment of women in All There Is (although there’s always a detachment to his writing that means it’s never entirely clear who his sympathies lie with). I find his earlier work rather tighter.

@ Daeds and Libby,

re James Salter, 2/3 years ago II read and was impressed by a short story featured in a newspaper. Eagerly borrowed ‘A sport and a pastime’ from the library and found it  heavy-going. Couple of months ago I bought his ‘Collected Stories, but have yet to begin it, but hope to do so with an eye to his style..

Sandra, interesting you say that about unconscious influence from books you read years ago. I’m generally reluctant to specify my influences because I’m certain that I don’t know who all of them are. On more than one occasion I’ve reread something I read in my youth but had only the haziest memory of. And, to my horror, encountered somethi…[Read more]

I wrote a short story with an MC lacking almost all redeeming qualities. It didn’t go down too well, although I quite enjoyed writing it. Patricia Highsmith’s writing is wonderful. Tom Ripley is a work of genius.

Also, hello stranger. How’s it going?

I’m not at all sure I’ve fully adhered to the brief, but this scraping of possibilities from my current wip is  the best I can do, before I leave the country 😉

Scene:

Need for a wee had Lucy check the time. Half ten. She’d been lying in her bed for more than two hours. Not moved since she’d taken refuge. Since hearing the click of the stre…[Read more]

Oh, EXCELLENT idea Sea – 0nly problem now, which do I choose??

Yes, I’ve got ??? : -)

Congratulations @ Seagreen, and thank you Squidge for prompt words, comments  and competition – a lot of fascinating uses of the three words.

A great batch of entries. Sadly, my good idea didn’t finally coalesce until I was dozing off last night.

Strange tastes

Oh, I did miss my Bert. Watching him through the window, wheelbarrow-in-hand, shaping our garden into all sorts of strangeness: gaudy, modern art in bloom.

Me, I preferred order. Neatness. A little chintz perhaps; a Capo Di Monte on the sideboard. ‘Let go, Pammy! Unstiffen your lip,’ Bert would say while waltzing me roun…[Read more]

Yes, thank you, Sandra, for a prompt which took me on a tangent I quite enjoyed!

And congratulations, Squidge. Well deserved!

“Stealing and giving odour “ [Twelfth Night]

From my very first whiff of the pipe tobacco I was a sucker for the scent of Balkan Sobranie. Given its name, thirteen-year-old imagination conjured red-jacketed hunters chasing yellow-eyed wolves through night forests. My Dad’s dour, ‘Four Square far cheaper,’ confirmed its blend  of leaves — Latakia…[Read more]