My story 'May Day' was published in the anthology War, Conflict and Resolution on August 15th 2014, a collection for all the soldiers, families and friends who were effected by World War 1. One hundred years on we still remember. Edited by Ryan Thacker & Alex Gallagher. I'm so pleased to be part of this very worthy cause as all profits will go to the Royal British Region. http://t.co/KJjNLo8HRu
I'm in WW1 mode at the moment as I submitted a story to The Angry Hourglass its about a young lad at the end of the war to end all wars based on a picture prompt of an old bike with the back wheel missing. Here is the link if anyone wants to read all the fantastic entries submitted this week. http://t.co/BIN89XHQn4
This is also the beginning of the 3rd week that I'm trying to practise Mindfulness, to live in the moment not the past or the future. It struck a cord when I read that a good part of life is spent on auto pilot. So I'm following meditations and reading http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mindfulness-practical-guide-peace-frantic-ebook/dp/B004XCFJ3E/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1408297766&sr=1-1&keywords=mindfulness . Its an eight week course so in 6 weeks time I'll be reporting back :)
Walking Away
Sunday, 17 August 2014
Saturday, 28 June 2014
Has the World Gone Mad?
What a week, first of all it was National Flash Fiction Day on Saturday 21/6/14 and I submitted a story to The Write-In and it was published. Great examples of good flash fiction all day long on the Flash Flood http://t.co/47LM3jCUGm This one was by my good friend Sal Page http://t.co/m50LlNRanu
Nose Clips by Stella Turner
Then I heard I'd won this one
* * *
And I've tried very hard to get a mention on this American site. Each Friday they have lots of stories submitted
FLASH FRIDAY http://t.co/yADTszgdBJ
HONORABLE MENTIONS
StellakateT, “The Jewel.” This twisted Cinderella tale gave me no small amount of satisfaction at the end, when the writer reveals that the “homely” sister is the jewel of the family. I don’t know if she’s happy with her lot, but I felt as though she at least had some measure of retribution with the match.
I honestly thought in both Flash Friday and The Angry Hourglass there were better stories but its all subjective. A good job we all don't like the same thing as it would be a boring world for writers :) truly the World has gone mad, I'm beginning to think I might now be able to write Flash Fiction
Nose Clips by Stella Turner
The legs spun around without a ripple of water let alone a splash. Kitty and her friend Madge were always a bit weird with their big noses. Think it was because of those nose clips they wore. Dad always warned me that I was too forthright with the personal comments.
“You’ll never get a lassie” he’d joke over the kitchen table. His accent still strong after all these years living down south. I’d been born a Sassenach. Something he’d never quite forgiven fate for. He’d come for work and when I was old enough took me down the pit with him. I loved swimming, the clear fresh water vying the black cloying coal dust. Water won every time.
My mates and I spent every Saturday morning at the council swimming baths. For most of us it was the nearest we got to seeing the girls in their bathing suits and to have an innocent chat. If we ever got too near the life guard would blow his whistle and point of the sign on the wall. No running, no pushing, no ducking, no diving, no smoking, no petting.
Handing her a small bunch of flowers, she looked up at me, eyes expectant, all said and done she was used to this. After each of our four sons was born I’d hear my Dad’s words ringing in my ears. “You’ll never get a lassie”
“Will she do?”
“Aye Madge, she will”
Breathing out a sigh of relief my daughter had perfect symmetrical features. I’d teach her to swim and to dive, no synchronised swimming. No one was going to say my girl had a big nose.
“You’ll never get a lassie” he’d joke over the kitchen table. His accent still strong after all these years living down south. I’d been born a Sassenach. Something he’d never quite forgiven fate for. He’d come for work and when I was old enough took me down the pit with him. I loved swimming, the clear fresh water vying the black cloying coal dust. Water won every time.
My mates and I spent every Saturday morning at the council swimming baths. For most of us it was the nearest we got to seeing the girls in their bathing suits and to have an innocent chat. If we ever got too near the life guard would blow his whistle and point of the sign on the wall. No running, no pushing, no ducking, no diving, no smoking, no petting.
Handing her a small bunch of flowers, she looked up at me, eyes expectant, all said and done she was used to this. After each of our four sons was born I’d hear my Dad’s words ringing in my ears. “You’ll never get a lassie”
“Will she do?”
“Aye Madge, she will”
Breathing out a sigh of relief my daughter had perfect symmetrical features. I’d teach her to swim and to dive, no synchronised swimming. No one was going to say my girl had a big nose.
*
Then I heard I'd won this one
The Angry
Hourglass http://t.co/MtOYLlmzA3
Stella’s story
takes a less-is-more approach, told in understatement and vivid details.
Relatives gather at a funeral, and confusion ensues. Even the eulogy
could be for someone else. Poor Auntie Sheila!
Your Round 25
FLASH MASTER is…
Stella
with The Final Resting Place
Stella wins for saying so much in
so few words. This story is less than 300 words! The narrator’s
perspective, the vivid detail and family dynamic is just perfect. The
power of things unsaid. In a way, this is a classic take on the photo–the
marker on a hill–a life, a funeral, the awful relatives, etc. but
there is so much more! The flowers are even more poignant. This hill on
the moor is not Auntie Sheila’s final resting place–or is this where her
true spirit lingers?* * *
And I've tried very hard to get a mention on this American site. Each Friday they have lots of stories submitted
FLASH FRIDAY http://t.co/yADTszgdBJ
HONORABLE MENTIONS
StellakateT, “The Jewel.” This twisted Cinderella tale gave me no small amount of satisfaction at the end, when the writer reveals that the “homely” sister is the jewel of the family. I don’t know if she’s happy with her lot, but I felt as though she at least had some measure of retribution with the match.
I honestly thought in both Flash Friday and The Angry Hourglass there were better stories but its all subjective. A good job we all don't like the same thing as it would be a boring world for writers :) truly the World has gone mad, I'm beginning to think I might now be able to write Flash Fiction
Tuesday, 17 June 2014
Dead Ants Everywhere
Just posted on FINISH THAT THOUGHT http://alissaleonard.blogspot.com/2014/06/finish-that-thought-50.html … theme this week is Dead Ants everywhere :) I shouldn't say it but I really like this little story.
On The March
Dead ants were everywhere but I was more perturbed by the
living ones. I’d stopped swatting them off the kitchen counter, the ones that
dared to transfer themselves on to my body were squashed with a scream, mine
not theirs. It was an invasion, the march of a conquering army.
I looked everywhere to find what was attracting them. No
spilt sweet substances. They were coming from underneath the back door and
heading straight up the kitchen cabinets and the live ones were disappearing into
the corner of the internal wall.
What was making them die on the journey? Where were they
going? What was the purpose? Mum had always said I had a scientific brain and
asked too many questions. Remembering the time I did a school project on Did Mothers
always know best? My conclusion was no.
Where was Jake when you needed him? Out with his mates,
drinks after work, I was an independent woman I’d solve this mystery without
him. He wasn’t the best flatmate, when that huge tarantula ran across the floor
he was standing on the sofa with me, screaming too.
Standing with the sledge hammer firmly in my left hand I
began to hit the corner of the wall. I’d often wondered why Jake kept a hammer
like this under the stairs. He’s such a puny little guy. My muscles are more
honed than his.
It didn’t take much strength to shatter the plaster board
but it took all my strength not to pass out. The sunken eyes beseeched me, the
bones of the skeleton rattled me, the ants were feasting on the remains of its
flesh.
“So you’ve met Jolene?”
I jumped at the sound of Jake’s gentle voice behind me.
“I knew one day you’d get to meet her”
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
Cartwheels to Heaven
I wrote this last weekend to submit to The Angry Hourglass, its a great writing exercise to a picture prompt. In their words "you all have 36 hours to create your best work of up to 360 words (exclusive of title)" http://t.co/r2t8RcteoK It didn't win, mainly because the other entries were brilliant :)
Here are the kind words by the Judge about my story:
Stella offers a wonderful chance to re-evaluate the freedoms of childhood that should be enjoyed while they can. The examples of the bits of childhood the elderly character still wishes to have captured are sweet and vivid.
Realised its about the First World War again.
Cartwheels to Heaven
I can hear her running up and down the corridor singing
those pop songs with really lewd lyrics that I’m hoping she doesn’t yet know
what they mean. Sam, my husband wants me to go out and read her the riot act.
He didn’t fight in the war to have to listen to all this noise. I want to say
“no, you fought for her freedom” but the grumpy old sod wouldn’t appreciate
that and I don’t want to hear any more of his complaints about the younger
generation.
I love to hear her. I love the way she cartwheels. I
remember doing that years ago my dress falling over my face exposing my school
knickers. Not realising our neighbour Mr Pickering was taking photos of me with
his old Brownie. In his dark room he’d produce images to dispatch all over the
county in plain brown envelopes. My Mammy nearly killed him when some distant
cousin in County Kildare
wrote her to ask if it was me. Mr Pickering walked with a limp for ages and I
found his camera in tiny bits at the end of our garden by the composting bin.
Shame really I would have liked to have taken photos of my own, the Fairies at
the bottom of the garden, Bridie’s rabbit with all its babies, Sister Mary
Evangeline’s beard. The last one makes me laugh out loud. Sam looks at me like
I’ve gone mad, maybe I have. How can you be eighty years of age but still know
how it feels to be a ten year old?
I open the flat door and yell “Darcy”
What a pretentious name to christen a child from this
estate, although I’m sure she’s never had holy water anywhere near her.
“Yes Mrs Higgins”
I hand her a fifty pence piece.
“Mr Higgins wants you to have this, he loves hearing your
singing”
She smiles the smile of an angel. That’s what Sam fought for
in the war to end all wars.
Monday, 26 May 2014
War
I wrote this for the Writing on The Wall competition to commemorate the Centenary of the First World War, the theme was The Front Line. I chose to write about another conflict, the story was based on a guy I knew in the late 1970's. The three winning entries were excellent. Amazing amount of creative talent out there. We need to learn from the past to stop repeating our mistakes. In my perfect world I'd be a teacher of History :)
History
He dropped to the floor like a stone; we were all used to it, any sudden loud noise or a car back firing made him do this. Sheepishly he’d get to his feet and carry on with his life. We all knew he was frightened of snipers. Fortunately for us living in this sleepy market town the last one was Little John when he drew his longbow and shot another peasant in error whilst out hunting.
He’s in a wheelchair now. A degenerative illness of the immune system, anyone can get it says the Doctors. I think it was caused by the stress of walking the divided streets. He doesn’t talk about The Troubles I don’t pry. It’s in the past.
History
He dropped to the floor like a stone; we were all used to it, any sudden loud noise or a car back firing made him do this. Sheepishly he’d get to his feet and carry on with his life. We all knew he was frightened of snipers. Fortunately for us living in this sleepy market town the last one was Little John when he drew his longbow and shot another peasant in error whilst out hunting.
He’s in a wheelchair now. A degenerative illness of the immune system, anyone can get it says the Doctors. I think it was caused by the stress of walking the divided streets. He doesn’t talk about The Troubles I don’t pry. It’s in the past.
Wednesday, 14 May 2014
Portugal Revisited
Spent last week in Albufeira, nice hotel, excellent food and it was so hot, had to stay in the shade for the last two days :) Mr T was playing golf with his mates and I tried to relax and read. Went back to work on Tuesday and felt so down, I feel like a hamster running circles on its cage wheel. Then tonight I read that Stephen Sutton aged 19 died today. He raised more than £3 million for charity and his words were inspirational.
"From someone who wants more time in this world, please don't waste yours, you'd be amazed what you can achieve if you try"
So Stella get a grip I've had 40 more years on this earth than Stephen so tomorrow I WILL SEIZE THE DAY.......
"From someone who wants more time in this world, please don't waste yours, you'd be amazed what you can achieve if you try"
So Stella get a grip I've had 40 more years on this earth than Stephen so tomorrow I WILL SEIZE THE DAY.......
Thursday, 10 April 2014
Quelle Surprise
Fantastic surprise today my friend Sal Page told me my story 'Friends' had been included in Flash Gumbo Issue 1 http://t.co/b5gLnG0Ngi. She'd received an e-mail to say her two marvellous stories had been chosen. I was so pleased for her she writes great flash read‘Teach me the Ukulele...’ and ‘Wilfred’s Glasses’ here http://t.co/b8geZY0UTq As usual I liked my story but we never seem to be in the same anthology or published at the same time. We've broken the mould at last :)
Good news on the home front my Mum has decided to have my Dad home from respite care with additional support. I can't wait to tell him the news he'll cry buckets of joy. The social worker has been a tower of strength for me over the last six weeks. Their job is so hard, working within financial restraints and trying to do the best for all parties. My parents will have been married 66 years on the 31st July so it was sad at this stage in their lives they were living apart. Old Age can be very cruel and unforgiving.
I took my left foot to see the Surgical Appliance team on Wednesday. He agreed with me that the foot was turning inwards as I walked and I had muscle wastage on the calf. That's because I've been dragging it behind me for the last five months! Fractured feet are a pain :) I'm having insoles made as I type, well not now but during working hours.
Encouraging my mum to take one day at a time and ignore the what ifs. It's what I've been attempting to do and being fairly successful :)
Good news on the home front my Mum has decided to have my Dad home from respite care with additional support. I can't wait to tell him the news he'll cry buckets of joy. The social worker has been a tower of strength for me over the last six weeks. Their job is so hard, working within financial restraints and trying to do the best for all parties. My parents will have been married 66 years on the 31st July so it was sad at this stage in their lives they were living apart. Old Age can be very cruel and unforgiving.
I took my left foot to see the Surgical Appliance team on Wednesday. He agreed with me that the foot was turning inwards as I walked and I had muscle wastage on the calf. That's because I've been dragging it behind me for the last five months! Fractured feet are a pain :) I'm having insoles made as I type, well not now but during working hours.
Encouraging my mum to take one day at a time and ignore the what ifs. It's what I've been attempting to do and being fairly successful :)
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