Sandra

“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]

Setting a writing prompt then watching the array of exciting interpretations  — six in all!! — flood in as they did this month, confirming there are always many times more than one ‘correct’ answer, I consider one of life’s especial pleasures, but I have to say actuality exceeded expectation by some considerable margin – thank you all!

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Monthly comp:  there’s already three thoroughly inspirational entries this month … I’m heading for the Hull ferry later today, will be back on the 3rd September, hoping to see how others interpret this prompt.

Some years into my writing journey I began making a list of writers who, as I read them, immediately sent me  to my current wip, recognising the breed of magic, of tone,  I needed to add to mine. (no idea where that list has gone) I’m not at all analytical, so fail miserably at the ‘read like a writer’ exercises, but was mildly shocked, on r…[Read more]

Thank you for this treat of a blog, Richard, which addressed my total ignorance of chanson. I’ve long preferred lyrics which say something (hence my liking for Arab Strap and The Floating Men, discovered via my youngest son.) I’m thinking I can repay him with Pete Atkin.

Perhaps I should make it clear this is just one line intended as a prompt to build a story on, from a collection of poetical, random lines, in a pocketbook entitled ‘Distance and Proximity’.

Wow, Libby, and thank you, a big surprise, especially as I’d already identified winners 1,2 and 3 and, my laptop having died and been taken away, and only having my ancient, over-full and steaming one, I wasn’t checking as often as I have been. I’ll try and come up with something as interestingly challenging as the last few have been.

Right man for the job!

Half eight, overnight ice on the inside of the windows, me already double Aran-wrapped, my phone rang:
‘Missus Blake? Morpeth Builders. We’ve a cancellation. Can come and have a look at your chimney today.’
‘That’d be great. There’s some sort of, of … blockage. The boiler’s broke, so lighting a fire the only way to kee…[Read more]

Congratulations, Libby, and thank you Seagreen for such an enticing theme – I had a dozen possibilities in my head, and it was obvious others did too, strong voices all and I was glad not to have to do the judging.

‘O dolce mano’ another opera

Coming out of the theatre, in the carpark, beeping the car unlocked, you say ‘If we’re dropping Judy off, she’d be best in the front –‘
Because it’s SO difficult to get out of the back seat? Nevertheless, I say nothing. It was Judy – a work colleague –that offered him the tickets. I bought the third on seeing the…[Read more]

Well done Sea, for an intriguing tale, and thank you Kate for a topic that had me seeking a tale I KNEW I’d written on this theme, then, not finding it, having to concoct something else. Thanks also for all the other entries; I still haven’t solved the anagram.

There’ll be kites [497 words]

It isn’t often that seeing an envelope on one’s doormat transports one back some forty years through time.
Took me long enough – the wrestling of the key in the lock ever more painful thanks to the curse of arthritis; the nudging open of the door with my shoulder just enough to know I’d be able to push it wide en…[Read more]

Well deserved win Kate, not only for the entrancing fairy story but for the impetus reading it gave me. And thank you Alex for the competition theme – the sort of challenge which stretches and inspires.

@ Athelstone – would it be possible to put that red reminder banner up more regularly? I confess I’d forgotten about the monthly comp and was…[Read more]

Tickled pink

Let me say straight away, it wasn’t what you – or any of my workmates – would think. Soon as I got over my … anger, I suppose, and looked at her, saw her, I heard my wife say, clear as if she was beside me, and we’d passed her in the street, “Asking for it!” She didn’t always bother to lower her voice, and inevitably I’d look to see…[Read more]