Kate

The wall or one’s head, @katemachon?!

This story (in its various drafts) got rejected eleven (11!!!) times before it finally found a home last month with Barren Magazine.

https://barrenmagazine.com/the-catechism-of-ms-o/

Fab work, @Elle!

Thanks, Kate.

Thank you, John.

Nice one, Libby.

PS The odd layout is courtesy of the Den. It’s not some artistic effort on my part, though it could be due to my failure to understand Den formatting. 🙂

Here’s the opening scene of a drama. 349 words

The scene is a contemporary kitchen. Magnets hold lists to the fridge. Children’s paintings are on the walls. MARCUS, 70, sits at the table, idle, and SAM, 40, stands at a counter, preparing food. Marcus wears his hair longer than Sam and has a brass bangle and a leather bracelet on one wrist.…[Read more]

Thanks for that @clebs, great to see your enthusiasm. Some good thoughts there. I’m bogged down in various commissions with time running out fast at the moment, but will gather this all together asap

Thanks Bella 🙂

You have to be a member to access though.

Oh, I didn’t think it was for younger people. Read it as adult for sure. Hope it finds its form in the end, and that your other projects are going okay meantime. X

Another hugely entertaining tale of the rails, and very informative too. Thanks Richard.

Is that video on JW, @philippaeast? I just can’t spot it.

Hey @bellam, I just saw an extract of your book on the JW slushpile live video (with the Bent Agency). I thought it was great, and I’m so intrigued about your characters, especially Molly. Hope you’ve worked our your narrative device…. 🙂

These are terrific @elle. Congratulations!

I’m happy to provide prompts. @Squidge has offered as well, so we could start with hers and I’ll do the next round?

Perhaps the next prompter could put their name forward during current prompt month IYSWIM.

OK, I’ll go first:

Sunday morning
A late breakfast, tea and toast, the paper folded at the cryptic crossword. 22 down, Kathmandu hippie hospital, 9 letters. Michael scratched his head with the pen. Just an average Sunday.
The doorbell rang, startling him. Nobody called on Sunday. Nobody called on any other day for that matter, not since he’d p…[Read more]