Six Word Story

I love how flash fiction manages to still convey a story with as tight a word count as possible. Especially when it's as short as a six word story. The Shory Story or @ShortStory2000 on Twitter, run several different writing competitions, including a monthly flash fiction competition with up to 500 words per entry but also the weekly six word story.

The idea came from the famous piece by Hemingway: 'For sale: baby shoes, never worn.' It's a free to enter competition so well worth a go. Flex your writing, and indeed, editing muscles!

I have ben having a go most weeks for the past couple of months and was very excited to win a couple of weeks ago. My winning entry was:

'Grandma watches us from the mantelpiece.'

Take a look at the website for more details on how to enter...
http://www.theshortstory.co.uk/competitions/six-word-weekly/

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to everyone! I don't do new year's resolutions, but this year I am determined to get back to updating this blog more often. Between September and Christmas 2015 was one of the busiest times ever for me with lots of exciting things happening.

One of the most exciting was a visit and talk from Skylark to my writing group, Castlecroft Writers. I'll do a separate blog post for this soon as it was such a fantastic and informative evening with the lovely ladies Amber Caravéo and Joanna Moult. You can find details of their agency on their website here: http://www.skylark-literary.com/

Other exciting things happening were winning 99fiction's September 99 Flash Fiction competition. You can read my winning entry here: http://99fiction.net/page/winner-14

One of my proudest achievements in 2015 was winning a co-authored competition with friend and writing partner in crime, Carolyn Ward. The competition organised by Movellas with Hodder and Stoughton, featured Jodi Picoult and her daughter Samantha Van Leer's co-authored book, 'Off the Page', and invited writers to team up and re-tell a fairy tale. We chose to take the Little Mermaid and give it a modern twist in 'La Petite Sirene', which won us first place, signed books from Jodi Picoult and Samantha Van Leer and feedback from Hodder and Stoughton.
Our winning piece and runners up can be found via Movellas blog here: http://www.movellas.com/blog/show/201509222210355212/announcing-the-winners-of-off-the-page

After competition wins, shortlistings and exciting agent visits, 2015 was a good year for writing, fingers crossed for an even better year of writing in 2016!

NAWG Festival of Writing

I started writing this blog piece back in September just after I attended the NAWG (National Association of Writers’ Groups) Festival of Writing at Warwick. September ended up being ridiculously busy, as did October, so here we are in November, better late than never!

This year’s festival on the 4-6^th September in Warwick University was started/opened with an inspirational talk from Oscar winning writer and director Lord Julian Fellowes and his wife Lady Emma. Julian is probably most famous for his film Gosford Park and TV series Downton Abbey. We also had the chance to sit and chat with Lord Julian and his wife over tea and cakes, frightfully british and modern Downton but very casual and friendly. Lord Julian’s main advice was that you need persistence to get published, then we were left with this quote: 

"Writing can be a solitary affair and the opportunity that the association (NAWG) offers, of comparing experiences and views is invaluable. We loved being among fellow writers who are climbing the same mountain."

During the evening there was an after dinner talk (the dinner I should add is fantastic, as are all of the meals throughout the weekend) by children’s author and hypnotherapist Steve Bowkett. Steve told us all about the Adventures as a Visiting Author, showing us in a humorous way the perils and highpoints of going into schools to give talks and workshops.

Throughout the weekend there are many bookable workshops with a wide variety of different authors, this year they included Della Galton, Tim Wilson/Jude Morgan, Paul Dodgson, Marvin Close, Aimee Bell, Julie Bokowiec, Steve Bowkett, Veronica Heley, James Nash, Adam Strickson and Talli Rowland.

Saturday morning for me was spent with author Tim Wilson/Jude Morgan, who writes historical fiction. We looked at ways to generate ideas and keeping the momentum going in your novel. With tricks to keep on track and invaluable advice on how to get past the dreaded blank screen! Which I have already started to put into practise when working on my novel or short stories.

In between workshops the weekend provides you with the wonderful opportunity to not only eat nice food, but socialise and network with other writers at all different stages of the writing journey. Networking provides time to share ideas and experiences with like-minded individuals. Sometimes you can feel very isolated when it’s just you and the notebook or laptop. This is why it’s often a good idea to join writing groups or organisations such as NAWG.

There was a talk by writer of women’s fiction, Talli Rowland on How Do Writers Know What’s Best for Them? Exploring both self-publishing and traditional publishing, as Talli has had great success with both. This was really eye opening and interesting for me as I have no idea where it comes to self-publishing, so a very useful talk.

Saturday afternoon was spent with short story powerhouse, Della Galton. Della is a fantastic tutor and very encouraging, she also does writing workshops for Woman’s Weekly. She went into great depth on how to write and sell short stories. Everybody attending the workshop created a usable opening to a short story, I’ve since progressed and turned mine into a full first draft. Need to come back to that one!

One of the highlights of the festival is the Awards ceremony and Gala Dinner on the Saturday night. There is the option of attending just for this part, but I prefer to have the whole weekend for the full experience.

Writers get to don their posh attire and eat food prepared by top chefs, drink and be merry whilst being entertained by the hilarious escapades of writer Lynne Hackles. This was followed up by the results of the members’ only NAWG competition.

The evening always ends on a high with the after dinner sparkles, with performances by writers attending the festival. Poetry, plays and works of fiction were performed.

I was back with Tim Wilson/Jude Morgan on Sunday morning, this time looking at research. An extremely useful and informative session.

The last workshop of the weekend was with writer, composer, radio producer and teacher, Paul Dodgson. Focusing on Writing from Life – Truth and Fiction, and exploring the lines between fact and fiction within memoir writing, and just how good our memories actually are.

There are so many fantastic workshops there is just too many to choose from and it’s very hard each year to pick a handful of the bookable ones. Over all, the festival was another wonderful weekend of writing and being with other writers, which I shall be encouraging others to book up for next year. I’ve already booked up for NAWG Festival of Writing 2016, hope to see you there!

www.nawg.co.uk

 

Henshaw Press

Earlier in the year I had a Young Adult short story shortlisted in a Henshaw Press competition. I was asked permission for it to be used in an anthology, and I'm pleased to announce that it's finally been published...

You can find the book on Amazon at: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1514690322?keywords=Henshaw%20Treats&qid=1442702326&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1

NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge 2015

NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge 2015

I recently took part in the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge 2015. I was assigned to Group 44, genre: drama, location: coffee shop, object: false eyelashes. I've never written drama before so not sure if I was successful or not, but here's the end result...

Round 44 – Genre: Drama – Location: A Coffee Shop – Object: Fake Eyelashes

Pot Luck

‘Do they look ridiculous?’ Sasha fluttered her extra-long lashes for approval.

            ‘Erm, well…’ He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I… err…’

            ‘Oh god they do don’t they? I don’t want to go looking like this. This can’t be right. Are you sure it’s today? I haven’t even worn my best clothes. I could have worn that sultry little black number if I’d known.’ She started crying.

            ‘Now there’s no need for tears. It’s not the end of the world. Oh, well, you know. It could be worse.’

            Sasha shot him a red eyed look of pure hatred, and took out a tissue. She blew her nose loudly, then used another tissue to wipe away her tears and mascara which had started to run. ‘Are you sure it’s now though? Haven’t I got time to pop home and tell everyone?’

            ‘No you can’t, there isn’t time for nonsense like that. It’s definitely this evening. I’ve got it written down here in my diary. Friday 8pm Pot Luck coffee shop on End’s Way.’

            ‘Let me see,’ Sasha leant across and pulled at the diary, but wasn’t quick enough as he pulled it away and slipped it back into his bag. ‘Oh come on. Why can’t I see?’

            ‘You’re not allowed to. It’s not permitted. No one should be given that much detail.’ He straightened his black tie, and smoothed the creases from his cashmere black suit. ‘This fabric is already showing signs of wear. Cost me a month’s salary.’

            ‘Looks like you’re going to a funeral,’ Sasha smirked. She pouted and took out a compact mirror from her handbag and started re-applying her mascara.

            ‘What are you doing now?’ His voice was incredulous.

            ‘Well if I’ve got to go I’ve got to look my best haven’t I?’

            He mumbled something under his breath.

            ‘What was that?’ She closed the compact with a sharp snap.

            ‘If you want to look your best, well, I think maybe you should remove the eyelashes.’

            Sasha groaned. ‘I knew they were too much. It’s too late now, they’ve been put on with special glue. So whatever happens, they’re coming with me!’ She fluttered her extra-long, extra thick lashes for effect.

            ‘Hmm, I suppose they’re not so bad,’ he managed a toothy smile that did nothing to reassure her.

            She looked away, his smile just made her feel worse. The large clock above the counter caught her eye. ‘7.58pm, there isn’t long left then.’ She felt a surge of icy cold panic surge through her veins.

            ‘Not really. You’d best get yourself ready. I’ve got to be at the bridge by 8.14pm, popular spot. I’m down there every other week.’

            ‘Jeez, you’re so grim.’

‘Sorry, I just have to go where there’s work, and that’s one of the busiest places.’

Sasha sighed, resigned at what lay ahead. ‘Haven’t you got any one liners or something to prepare me.’

            ‘That’s not really in my job description.’

            ‘What is your job description then?’

            ‘I’m just here to help that’s all. Just think of me as a friend that you don’t see very often.’ He stood up and tapped the watch around his wrist. ‘Shall we?’

            She trembled as she stood, her footing wobbly as they left the coffee shop. This was an event that she really didn’t want to attend.

            ‘I really don’t want to go, do I have to?’ The cold autumn breeze pinches at her face.

            ‘I’m afraid you do, but don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you,’ he slipped his bony fingers through her warm, fleshy ones.

            Darkness had enveloped the street, the perfect cover for the attacker waiting just around the corner.

THE END

NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge 2015

I recently took part in the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge 2015. I was assigned to Group 44, genre: drama, location: coffee shop, object: false eyelashes. I've never written drama before so not sure if I was successful or not, but here's the end result...

Round 44 – Genre: Drama – Location: A Coffee Shop – Object: Fake Eyelashes

Pot Luck

‘Do they look ridiculous?’ Sasha fluttered her extra-long lashes for approval.

            ‘Erm, well…’ He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I… err…’

            ‘Oh god they do don’t they? I don’t want to go looking like this. This can’t be right. Are you sure it’s today? I haven’t even worn my best clothes. I could have worn that sultry little black number if I’d known.’ She started crying.

            ‘Now there’s no need for tears. It’s not the end of the world. Oh, well, you know. It could be worse.’

            Sasha shot him a red eyed look of pure hatred, and took out a tissue. She blew her nose loudly, then used another tissue to wipe away her tears and mascara which had started to run. ‘Are you sure it’s now though? Haven’t I got time to pop home and tell everyone?’

            ‘No you can’t, there isn’t time for nonsense like that. It’s definitely this evening. I’ve got it written down here in my diary. Friday 8pm Pot Luck coffee shop on End’s Way.’

            ‘Let me see,’ Sasha leant across and pulled at the diary, but wasn’t quick enough as he pulled it away and slipped it back into his bag. ‘Oh come on. Why can’t I see?’

            ‘You’re not allowed to. It’s not permitted. No one should be given that much detail.’ He straightened his black tie, and smoothed the creases from his cashmere black suit. ‘This fabric is already showing signs of wear. Cost me a month’s salary.’

            ‘Looks like you’re going to a funeral,’ Sasha smirked. She pouted and took out a compact mirror from her handbag and started re-applying her mascara.

            ‘What are you doing now?’ His voice was incredulous.

            ‘Well if I’ve got to go I’ve got to look my best haven’t I?’

            He mumbled something under his breath.

            ‘What was that?’ She closed the compact with a sharp snap.

            ‘If you want to look your best, well, I think maybe you should remove the eyelashes.’

            Sasha groaned. ‘I knew they were too much. It’s too late now, they’ve been put on with special glue. So whatever happens, they’re coming with me!’ She fluttered her extra-long, extra thick lashes for effect.

            ‘Hmm, I suppose they’re not so bad,’ he managed a toothy smile that did nothing to reassure her.

            She looked away, his smile just made her feel worse. The large clock above the counter caught her eye. ‘7.58pm, there isn’t long left then.’ She felt a surge of icy cold panic surge through her veins.

            ‘Not really. You’d best get yourself ready. I’ve got to be at the bridge by 8.14pm, popular spot. I’m down there every other week.’

            ‘Jeez, you’re so grim.’

‘Sorry, I just have to go where there’s work, and that’s one of the busiest places.’

Sasha sighed, resigned at what lay ahead. ‘Haven’t you got any one liners or something to prepare me.’

            ‘That’s not really in my job description.’

            ‘What is your job description then?’

            ‘I’m just here to help that’s all. Just think of me as a friend that you don’t see very often.’ He stood up and tapped the watch around his wrist. ‘Shall we?’

            She trembled as she stood, her footing wobbly as they left the coffee shop. This was an event that she really didn’t want to attend.

            ‘I really don’t want to go, do I have to?’ The cold autumn breeze pinches at her face.

            ‘I’m afraid you do, but don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you,’ he slipped his bony fingers through her warm, fleshy ones.

            Darkness had enveloped the street, the perfect cover for the attacker waiting just around the corner.

THE END