330 words except mine are 199

Today I received an e-mail to say my story "Armageddon" was going to be published ttp://t.co/8wJ2L4bO   on 330words. I really enjoy reading the 330 words or less on that blog.

I also had an e-mail to say my story "Tat" has been accepted and will be published in an anthology. An amazing day. I have submitted a few other pieces of writing so I wait with bated breath :)

This week I have discovered Cadbury's Crunchie Biscuits. They are wonderful like eating Crunchies. I'm watching the TV drama A Mother's Son.... I'm still deciding whether I should continue or reach for the remote off button. I'm reading "Interview with a Jewish Vampire" by Erica Manfred. I'm half way through and enjoying it. I always think I know how a story will end and I'm hoping I'm not right. I'd like a twist in the tale of this one.

Tomorrow.......

Tomorrow my story 'The Last Corner' is going to be published on 1000words. I'm so excited to think it was considered good enough. I love it but then I love my stories even the really bad ones :) http://1000words.org.uk/

Morecambe

Just back from spending four days with Sal in Morecambe. Only rained a little when we went to the Midland Hotel for afternoon tea on Tuesday. Unfortunately it was fully booked so we waltzed out, not flounced out, that would have been rude and went to the jetty cafe and had scampi and chips, delicious.

Yesterday we walked 6 miles along the canal to Carnforth Station to eat at The Brief Encounter cafe. It was like stepping back in time to the 1945 David Lean's classic film set. I  felt like Celia Johnson except I was eating wonderful stuffed mushrooms, potato skins and salad followed by a scone with raspberry jam. Didn't see anyone that remotely looked like Trevor Howard. Bought a tea towel.

Managed to read Carol Birch's Jamrach's Menagerie. It's an excellent story and very well written. Ate quiche made by Sal and Morecambe shrimps on toast. Sal is an excellent hostess. Thanks Sal.

Bathroom Blues

It's day 8 or working day 7, either way its been too long without a bathroom. Lucky for us we have an outside toilet else I'd have worn out the patience of a saint keep knocking on doors asking to use the neighbours lavey.
Day 1, the tiles came off the wall with the bathroom fitter tutting that the plaster was crumbling and it would need re-plastering. what a surprise the house was built in 1939....Survived the 2nd world war and wasn't coventrated.
Day 2, all the bathroom fittings and fixtures removed. Goodbye Darth Vader complete with Light Sabre and shower gel. Goodbye Mother Duck and two little ducks with the yellow paint peeling off that my mother bought us years ago.
Day 3, plaster boarded, shower tray fitted
Day 4, new ceiling with spotlights and extractor that looks like a spotlight only bigger.
Day 5, Day off .... no workmen.... no kettle on the boil.
Day 6, New window, one wall tiled. (love the tiles seeings I couldn't remember what we'd chosen and was dreading they would be dark and horrid)
Day 7,  the Sabbath
Day 8, walls nearly all tiled, floor tiles laid and instructions not to walk on them.

I had the first five days off work to man the kettle and have a love hate relationship with the bathroom fitter. Back to work now with husband in charge of the kettle. Perfect bliss.

Showering everyday is like a military operation. Packing towels, shampoo, soap, hair dryer lugging the bag around in case I spot a free shower. Where have the Victorian slipper baths gone? My parents happily let me run up their stairs cartwheeling into the bathroom.

I know one thing I'll never have another bathroom fitted in my lifetime unless we move house and that isn't likely. Few more days and I hope I'll have the bathroom of my dreams. Not that I've ever dreamt about a new bathroom. :)

Bored

 I get easily bored and tonight is no exception. European football on TV. No one on Twitter or Facebook. ( Must all be watching football!) I've been snacking on mixed nuts and raisins. Tried to write a flash fiction but it seems to be going to be a short story and my attention span isn't long enough to write more than 500 words. Maybe this is the one that will stretch me. Sent off several flash fictions. Three to a competition and one to a website. Fingers crossed the competition ones will get long listed. Think I'll be in my dotage before my writing gets recognised as amazing. Whoops my tongue is in my cheek :)
I'm trying to read more and more and edit my own scribbles more and more. I'd like to write more but I'm lazy. I admire authors who say they live to write. I've always wanted to write a bestseller but its easier to say than do. Think it might be a novel containing a thread through lots of flash fictions, now thats an idea ............

Back from Spain

Just returned from 7 days in hot, sunny Spain. I tried to get a suntan but I'm still a whiter shade of pale. I begin to get a speckly skin which I think means skin damage so I rush to sit in the shade. Saw an old lady wearing a T Shirt with OAP written on the front. On closer inspection I realised it was GAP. Think I need to go to Specsavers! It was all-inclusive and the food was plentiful and very well cooked so I'm now dreading standing on the bathroom scales. One guest was overheard to say "my jeans have shrunk whilst I've been here". Hope I can fit into my work trousers on Tuesday.

I sent a flash fiction story to a competition and the results were announced whilst I was away. I didn't get short listed and the judge said that many of the stories told more than showed. I think she was refering to mine. So I've edited it again and 'will sit on it' until I decide where to send it. It's all a matter of taste.She did say that she had received two rejections for her own stories from a woman's magazine. My story Josie was included for flashfiction Day May 16th on http://flashfloodjournal.blogspot.co.uk/

'Josie' by Stella Turner

It was the only photograph of me as a child. Standing on my parents’ side board for over forty years, its silver frame ritually polished every week. I was dressed like a girl but my mother said in those days children were always dressed alike! My parents were hidden behind a woman who was holding me like a cherished possession. She looked so impressed with me that I kept asking who she was. My mother would sigh and turn away with a shrug. My father saying only her name was Josie. He spoke the name as if it was magical and it hung in the air tantalising and distressing my mother.

The auctioneer turns the frame over and says “twenty pounds, maybe a bit more”. I feel a tinge of regret, slipping the photo into my jacket pocket, but I need the money. My mother wouldn’t notice it was missing. She now lives in a care home. My father, long gone, is living with some young girl in Bexhill. He says she is his carer but she speaks with an accent and looks like she knows a good opportunity when she sees one. I expect his will is in her favour. 

Not much left to sell. The photo is creased. I flatten it out on the kitchen table and stare at the woman. Maybe I could try and find her. She’s probably dead by now. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll visit my father and ask about Josie. If she’s still impressed with me maybe she’ll give me things to sell.

Bank Holiday

Watching House on TV. It's 2.39pm and its Saturday afternoon. Feeling good because its Bank Holiday Weekend, no work on Monday. I must sound as if I dislike work. It's ok most times but you can't beat a day off. I would love a three day weekend, maybe that would help lower the unemployment levels. Everyone takes a 20% cut in hours and salary. Prices would fall, people in jobs, inflation lowered. There you go I've solved the recession. If only it was that easy :)