[Squidge]

Wowser…spoilt for choice! Thank you all for taking my three little words and turning them into lots of great stories. As always, the three objects were used in very different and clever ways. So…

Sandra – there’s something about a pipe-smoking detective, isn’t there? Lovely piece, with the rat almost in the trap until the detective took his eye off the ball.

Janette – loved the idea of Pammy sampling Bert’s wacky baccy and dancing round the garden! You turned what could have been a sad piece of writing into a real comedy.

Libby – loved the pictures you drew here. And the fact that the focus of the investigation had such a clever association with a street lamp…

Seagreen – the sun is bedding down behind Marley Jenkin’s shed in a corona of red and gold tie-dye. Simply gorgeous. This was a real kicker when I got to the end – was not expecting it at all.

Alex – loved that your narrator got into so much trouble, and not for disposing of a body!

As always, there has to be a winner and a setter of the next challenge, and for me, that’s….drum roll…Seagreen. Basically because the story of Betty hit me right in the feels, and yet it didn’t feel like a sad piece at all, it was full of joy and friendship and fun. Well done.

 

[Squidge]

Oh blimey! Did not expect that at all… Wow, thanks, Sandra.

Everyone else’s was fab. Feel a bit of a fraud having popped in here for the first time in ages and getting to set this month’s challenge, but I’ll do my best x

[Squidge]

Not quite sure where this was going, but it felt good to respond to a prompt for the first time in ages…

“In a yellow rectangle, in the black facade of a house, a woman is laying a table.”

He could have picked any window, of any house, in any street, with curtains left undrawn.  But he decides this is going to be The One.

He could have found her watching TV in the lounge. Cooking dinner in the kitchen. Or reading a bedtime story to her kids in their bedroom.

Night night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.

All he needed was a woman. Illuminated. Visible.

And now he’s found one.

She pauses in the act of setting a knife down in its place. Looks up and out into the black night beyond the glass.

A thrill runs through him, knowing she can’t see him; the glass will show only her own face, reflected back at her.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?

She’s no beauty, the one he’s chosen, but she’ll do.

She’ll have to.

[Squidge]

Ath, I know I’ve not been round much recently, but that looks fab! Noticed that blogs and whatever the heading is next to it both go bold when you click on blogs, but it seems so much easier and intuitive to navigate. Thank you xxx

[Squidge]

In the place and time I found myself, I had done something wrong.

My punishment? A chain of large metal links, secured around my throat, pressing against my flesh, reminding me of its presence every time I swallowed or turned my head.

A man, with whom I had a connection – were we related? Was he the reason for my wrongdoing? – received the same punishment. We left the place where the chains had been imposed upon us together, and I held his hand to give me confidence as we walked, in the time afterwards, through the busy market place.

The chains showed above our collars.

“It’s so visible,” I said to him.

People avoided us, moved quickly out of the way when they saw the markers we wore, averted their eyes after the initial glance and the double-take which followed, and one last horrified stare. On the bus, I tried not to notice them noticing, tried not to care, tried to wear my punishment lightly.

But the chain marked me out as different, as other, as having done
wrong, although I knew not what it was that had been judged so.

For the first time, I dared to touch the new and unfamiliar addition to my person.

The chain fell away, and I held it out to my companion.

“It came off,” I said.

(Bit on the short side, 221 words, but based on a dream I recorded 8/8/19)

[Squidge]

Oh my days…I’m going to be spoilt for choice, the state of my dreams! I’ll avoid the teeth-dropping out ones and see what else weird and wonderful I recorded in my dream diary.

[Squidge]

It was the same every year.

She took as many precautions as possible, wrapping everything carefully, keeping the box closed tight until the right moment came, making sure her hands were washed clean when it did.

And then…

Ordering everyone to sit down, sit still. Questioning each participant in turn to make sure she knew their exact requirements. Each component carefully extracted – no more taken than was needed – to reduce the risk. Assembling the whole, and then with utmost care and attention, handing it over to the one it was intended for, before beginning the next assemblage.

And yet, without fail, there would still be the unsatisfied cry:

“Muuum! There’s sand in my sandwiches!”

114 words, and written with love for my mum, who always made the sarnies on our holidays x

[Squidge]

Wowser…beta reading…

As a beta reader, I do try to find something good to say as well as making suggestions for improvements. I don’t think I go into it with a checklist per se – I use gut feeling a lot as to what feels ‘right’ to me as a reader. But I sometimess feel that I’m not an objective enough beta reader – I don’t always ‘get’ other authors’ writing so worry I’m making recommendations that aren’t suitable for particular authors. I always state accept, amend, reject, and that I’m not perfect at picking up everything that might be wrong. I’ve had some unpleasant experiences too – one in particular springs to mind, when I was asked to edit something and the author ignored absolutely everything, and the finished product (which needed some pretty major improvements) was published as was. She never spoke to me again…

Being beta read…very hard to receive the critiques sometimes, but I’m far enough along the road to know who I can approach for beta reading that will give me honest appraisals and whose own writing is of such a standard I trust their opinions. And it’s been completely invaluable in terms of making progress or ironing out glitches.

Beta reading others’ work helps you to see mistakes in your own, and being on the receiving end makes you more sympathetic and thoughtful about how you present your thoughts to the author you’re beta reading for.

I quite enjoy doing it, if I’m honest. I love to see a less-than-perfect piece polished up to its absolute best when the author’s taken everything on board and decided what to do with it…

[Squidge]

I don’t post here as often as I perhaps should, though I love knowing it’s here if I need it, or to celebrate good news with other peeps, and of course, to be challenged to write a short story every now and again.

Beyond that, I think because I’m published, working on new material, editing for other people, testing a writing course, I don’t have the time to interact as much, and maybe I don’t look for critique as much.

The last year has been a bad time creatively-speaking, and I’d appreciate the chance of seeing how things pick up over the next twelve months as we get back to the new normal. Lots of us probably need time to recover from the impact of covid and the changes it has brought to see whether we really do want to interact in the den in the way we have been doing.

I have to admit, too, that I don’t find this site particularly easy to navigate compared to the Cloud, though most of that is on me not being intuitive when it comes to technology! So I miss a lot, and then feel I can’t comment if too much time has passed since the post.

Not sure that’s helping very much, but it’s thoughts and ponderings to add to the mix…

[Squidge]

Stunning, Raine.

[Squidge]

Well done Janette!

@Athelstone – yup. Rocky Horror Show at The Grand Theatre, Wolverhampton whilst at uni. And then at The Haymarket Theatre, Leicester, when we were in a minority dressed up, and me and Mr Squidge got into the local paper cos the reporter wanted to know what made people dress up that way to watch a show. (We were dressed as aliens that time!)

[Squidge]

Just Another Night at the Theatre.

Suspenders. Check.
Stockings. Check.
Corset and lacy panties. Check.
Stilettos.Check.
Pearl necklace. Make up to die for. Check.
Lab coat. Check.
Rubber gloves. Check.
Rice, torch, water pistol, newspaper, confetti, party hat, rubber gloves. Check.
Sense of humour. Check.
Willingness to participate. Check.

“So come up to the lab and see what’s on the slab. I see you shiver with antici…pation.”

(Bit of fun, as not really a February thing – and I focused on the shiver! 😉 )

• This reply was modified 5 years, 1 month ago by Squidge.

[Squidge]

Oh – and contractions? Bunkum! If you have a distinctly voiced character, they will ‘think’ and describe in contractions just as much as they use them in dialogue. I’d have no luck with this editor cos I often write voice with contractions…makes it more real to me as the writer, and immerses the reader in the story, in my experience.

[Squidge]

Is it worth having a look at how you’ve used ‘I’, Doug? If you’re using it frequently, then yes, definitely worth looking up psychic distance. There’s a big difference between ‘I sit at the table near the window. Outside, I see a man fighting to keep his brolly up in the wind and rain’, and ‘I sit at the table near the window and watch the man outside, fighting to keep his brolly up.’ Even in third person, if you have too many ‘he/she did this, smelled that, heard the other’, it can become distracting and you have to work really hard to take those telling words out. Of course you can’t lose them all…

Is it worth posting a short section on here to see what others think? It could be that you came across a rigid editor, but it would be good to know if other readers feel the same way? That could point to some truth in the comment…and an opportunity to tweak what you’ve written.

[Squidge]

Congratulations! Fab news!

[Squidge]

The Sanctum of Dreams

“I dreamt about you last night. You were in the sanctum.”
“Well, that’s hardly surprising, is it? Given what’s about to happen.”
“No. I suppose not. It was just so…”
“So…what? Are you going to share? Or just sit there looking worried? I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yet.”
“Ha! True. Well, tell me about it. I don’t like to see you frowning.”
“Are you sure? It wasn’t pleasant. More of a nightmare.”
“Oh, great. No, don’t go! Please. I’ll have to get used to it, won’t I? Knowing the bad as well as the good. I’d sooner start with your dream than anyone else’s. Give me your hand…there, that’s better. Now, tell me.”
“You…were in the sanctum. Standing. In front of an altar.”
“There isn’t an altar–”
“I know. It’s only a dream. You had your back to me, and piled on the altar were the dreams of others. Each one a strand. Some short, some long, many somewhere between. Dark, light, glittering, dull. Like cords and ribbons… As sharp as razors, some of them. And I was suddenly afraid. So afraid. For you.”
“Cassia. Cassia, my love, don’t cry, please. You know it won’t be easy for me. You’ve always known.”
“And I’ve loved you in spite of knowing it. You picked all those dreams up in your arms and turned from the altar… Gods help me, when you turned…”
“You’re trembling. Let me hold you.”
“They attached themselves to you, Alchek. The sharp dreams, the dark ones. Wrapped themselves around your head. Sliced into your flesh, cutting and carving. I tried to pull them away, tore at them til my hands were bleeding–”
“It was a dream, Cassia, a dream!”
“No! It was real. I felt the sting of their edges! My hands feel it still. But I couldn’t save you. Your face…your beautiful face…turned into something bloody and monstrous…”
“Cassia, listen to me. I have been prepared for what’s to come. It will not change me.”
“Are you sure, Alchek? Are you really sure? Because just before I woke, I didn’t recognise you at all.”

350 words

[Squidge]

There’s a monster inside of me.

It was born when Noellia moved into number 14.

The car started it. A shiny new Fiat 500. Electric. In powder blue. Parked on the drive. I looked at my own clapped out Fiesta and felt the first stirrings of new life, deep in my chest.

She fed the monster well, did Noellia.

Had an open house, she did. Invited all her new neighbours round after three months, to see what she’d done with the old place. Champagne glass in hand, I wandered round the glossy open plan kitchen-diner with Mrs Sim from number 23, and the Pattens from number 15. All that noise from the workmen had been worth it.

Noellia got to bask in sleek lines and chrome fittings, when I still had patterned paper, 80’s cabinets, and cheap formica tops.

I stepped outside for a breath of air and got a noseful of fresh-cut grass.

The monster roared.

“Oh, don’t walk on the grass,” Noellia twittered at me. “It doesn’t look as nice when it’s flattened.”

So I stayed on the pristine patio and gazed out over a velvet lawn, comparing it to my own dandelion-studded and thatched-moss affair. Had she got Charlie Wotsername – the one that never wore a bra – in to design the garden? The planting was certainly more exotic than my own self-seeded buddleias and rampant golden rod.

“Have you seen the garden room?”

That’s when the monster opened his eyes…

Garden room, my arse. It was a garden bloody mansion. Had more furniture in it than my entire downstairs, including a bar with rainbow lights. Bet the booze don’t taste any different from there to when I grab a can from the fridge and drink it sitting in my mouldy old deckchair.

…and his eyes were as green as Noellia’s grass.

306 words

• This reply was modified 5 years, 6 months ago by Squidge.
• This reply was modified 5 years, 6 months ago by Squidge.

[Squidge]

Well it was a small select number of entries this month…well, two months! But they were none the worse for being that.

@Athelstone – a tale with sinister overtones… having been on the business end of a cat’s claws more than once, I’m glad my scratches didn’t end up this way.

@Janette – such a poignant story. I fully expected this to be linked to dementia, but the twist, when it came…lovely!

@Libby – this was so atmospheric, peopled by such very different folk. I could almost taste the rose and feel the sun on my skin…

Thank you all for going with my catty theme. The baton is passed to Janette this time, because her story really tugged at my heart strings. x

[Squidge]

Last chance to enter something in the monthly-that-turned-into-two-months competition…

[Squidge]

I always sit in on these ‘story arc’ kinds of sessions in the hope I’ll find one that works for me. I never have…

I do have two that help remind me of the essentials though.

The triangle…I learnt it on the self edit course (now run by Jericho Writers) and blogged about it here: https://squidgesscribbles.blogspot.com/2013/10/knitting-socksand-how-it-helps-writing.html

The story mountain…I work with kids in the main, and the story mountain helps me to visualise setting the scene (the lowlands), increasing the action/tension/problems etc for the MC (climbing so far before dropping down a bit and climbing the next stretch until finally you reach the top (climax). Then the descent is much steeper as everything is resolved more quickly. (Resolution) And then you end up on the plains on the other side of the mountain because something has to change, or otherwise what’s the point of telling the story?

Do they help any?

[Squidge]

I normally have a character and and end in sight when I start. Apart from that, I don’t do much planning at all – my brain simply doesn’t work like that. I’d love to be more organised, but personally it’s stifling. I am full of admiration for peeps who do the whole character file/in depth plot/post-it scene arrangements etc!

I do a lot of on-paper working out though – first drafts are always handwritten in a notebook, with extra thoughts/ideas jotted down as they occur but slipped into the right place later. I still have issues along the way, but I’d rather try to resolve them having gotten familiar with my characters/world than trying to think about it all up front!

[Squidge]

Wowser – thanks, Jill! There were some great interpretations of the theme, so well done to everyone who entered…especially as I think it was Andrew’s first time?

I’ll have a think about a theme and post a bit later this morning…

[Squidge]

The Midsummer Madness

“Are ye well prepared?”

Aliz nods, her eyes wide and dark in her face. “I soaked the rope in rosemary water like ye said, an’ the pegs were whittled fresh from holly.”

“Good. And the other?”

“I have it.”

No tremor in her voice. Will she remain as unaffected if she is forced to use it?

“Good.” I tap my finger on my top lip and glance around the clearing. Have I missed anything? The symbol is marked on the floor with white flour, thick black candles stand at each of its points, the jug is filled with rosewater… “Let’s get on, then.”

Aliz sprinkles the rosewater and the scent of summer blooms hang heavy in the air, masking the rancid stench of fear.

The earth is warm through my shirt when I lay within the floured sign. I keep silent as the still-damp ropes bite into my wrists and ankles, their aroma sharp and cutting against that of the roses. The ground vibrates under me as the pegs are hammered in and the other ends of the ropes secured.

Curtains of black hair frame her face when she leans over me.

“Is all done?”

She nods.

“Ye will stay by me, and watch to see if the madness descends?”

“Aye, my love.” She brushes my lips with her own.

“And if it does, ye will end me?”

Her eyes close then, shutting me out. But she nods. Again.

“Then move to yon trees and wait. Keep the blade near.”

I turn my face away so I will not see her leave. So little time we’ve had, Aliz and I, but if the madness descends on me, as it does on some men on the Midsummer of their twenty-fifth year, she will at least have something to remember me by.

Pray hope the babe in her belly is a girl, for I would not wish this uncertainty on any son. And I doubt I have Aliz’s strength to end a life if, by some miracle, I survive this night.

339 words

[Squidge]

Wot everyone else said! My rule of thumb to determine when I should show is to put myself in the MC’s shoes and write from their experience – if I can portray something through what they are seeing/hearing/feeling, then it’s probably more of a ‘show’ moment than a ‘tell’ one. For me, it’s linked with people and actions rather than descriptions – which one of Ath’s examples also seems to support.

[Squidge]

Doug – if your writing strikes you as ‘amateurish’, it’s probably a good thing; it means that, in the time since you originally wrote the novel you have grown and developed as a writer and are already – subconsciously – aware of it.

It’s very hard to do, but have you considered completely rewriting the story from scratch? It’s something I did with a story after a break of about ten years…I’d developed my style and rewriting gave me an opportunity to write the story again with the benefit of all that I’d learned in the meantime. It sounds really daunting, and is probably a last resort kind of thing! But for me, in that instance, it worked better than trying to tweak sections.

[Squidge]

Mad has touched on what I posted (and lost!) yesterday.

Sometimes, I think we confuse perfectionism with finding our own, unique writer’s voice. We try so hard to make it sound ‘right’ that we forget we’re trying to express something of who we are, who our characters are, within the world we’ve created. Of course we want to make our stories the best we can, but they will never be perfect. Even having published several novels, I still see things in the ‘finished’ books that I think “should’ve written x instead,” or see typos – in a recent example, I was longlisted in a comp for a short story. Read it through, and realised there were two different ways I’d spelled the MC’s name…throughout!

I think this comes easier with confidence though – in yourself as a writer, and in the writing you produce.

One thing I have personally found helpful is to stick to a ‘big picture’ point of view until later in the writing process. By which I mean I rarely allow myself to go back and tweak anything until I have got to the end of the story. That way, you don’t keep switching between your creative brain – the one which comes up with the scenes and descriptions and beautiful ideas – and your editing brain – the one that tells you you need to tweak that sentence, or completely rewrite this heavy description, or make that dialogue more believable – too often. For me, that really impedes my flow, and I’ve discovered that for me, getting things to flow initially means I can polish up much more easily when that time comes.

[Squidge]

Aaaargh! Just wrote a reply and it’s thrown me off and lost it all! Will post again tomorrow…

[Squidge]

Thank you x

Ath, I should have some paperbacks soon, after a leetle glitch with the cover (take a decko in RASSA for what happened!)

[Squidge]

Yay! Well done!

[Squidge]

Sorry – have had a deadline on the novel, so completely forgot about the May comp! Well done Jill!

And thanks for the comments, Libby. You read a lot more into my little walk than I realised or intended… 😉

[Author]

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