Emma Robinson

Bringing a gun into a house changes it. The fear that used to coil in your stomach like writhing vipers has stilled. No need to jump at every squeak and clonk. Now, a strident voice in the street or the sound of smashing windows makes you smile. A slow, secretive smile.

You think it’s power, and the gun feels like it. The slick weight in your h…[Read more]

Thanks, everyone. Bit of a relief, back on track now. It’s the context that makes all the difference. The song is about seeking adventure now, because it’s later than you think. Eg:
Hitchhike down to Mexico,
Drive to Kathmandu,
Better do it now, my friend,
Time catches up with you.

Thanks again, everyone.

Thanks Jane. The previous line, which I’m still working on, is something like:
Go now, go now, don’t hesitate, your only master’s you,
Don’t ever let yourself regret the things you didn’t do.

I think in that context it’s clearer. No?

Hmm. It was intended to mean if you seek adventure now it will not be necessary to later regret not having done so, but it does seem to imply the opposite.
Good line but in the wrong song!
Jonathan, I sing like a cat with its tail in a mangle, but maybe someone else might want to sing it. My interest is in the music and words.
Thanks, both of you.

Bringing a gun into a house changes it.

It doesn’t matter that it’s locked away, out of sight. There’s something tangible – a weight, a tension – that comes with the knowledge of its presence, which terrifies me more than him.

He explained the gun’s for protection.

What extra protection could he need? He has his expression, his speech…his…[Read more]

Tremendous news and tremendous writing, you Author, you!

Fabulous. Huge congratulations.

Bloody fantastic news, Kaz! Well done xxx

Well done, congratulations!

Bringing a gun into the house changes it; that’s the truth. It’s not as if it was much of a gun, just an old Spanish automatic called a Ruby. Piece of junk, but cheap on the street. I never knew my dad to be scared of anything but he was scared now. Really scared.

Before, when he hit my mother, we cowered in a corner of the kitchen, my sis…[Read more]

Here’s my entry, which contains mental health issues in a character under military duress. First line plus 200 words.

Bringing a gun into the house changes it.

Edward came home on leave. He was given embraces by Mother, pats on the shoulder by Father, and – foolishly, I now think – a salute by me, his brother. He laid his cap and service rev…[Read more]

‘Improbable life’ gets a thumbs up from me too.