Reminiscing...

This morning I have been on a virtual walk...wandering through the once familiar lanes and alleyways of the internet...stumbling upon long forgotten but one time regular haunts.

It's too easy to be distracted by the very present, shiny, social media stuff. Twitter and Facebook dangle baubles that catch the light and sparkle brightly but oh-so-fleetingly. But of course as one glittering tweet fades the light bounces off to light  up another. They are like fairground candy floss...satisfying for a second but with no substance. Blog posts and writers websites on the other hand glow with a constant, gentle luminescence that can be overlooked as we dash from shiny to shiny. So today I have revisited and indulged in a few old favourites. 

One in particular I stayed at for a while - it kindleakindle a little spark which brought me back here to my own stagnant blog, searching for a piece of my own writing...I didn't find it and so I am posting here today, six years after it appeared on Richard Hearn's Geowriting site as part of the Brighton Digital Festival. 

If I remember rightly, the prompt was a boy in a yellow T-Shirt ...

This is what I wrote: 

I made my way from the station. Keeping to the narrow back lanes and side streets. Off the beaten tracks, away from prying eyes. I couldn't risk being spotted. That would raise too many questions, too many puzzled looks, the risk of discovery and repatriation. The last thing I wanted!

A movement at the end of the alley caught my attention.

A sudden breeze lifted the rubbish causing a mini maelstrom of old newspapers and Pizza Place fliers. I squinted against the tornado of dust and grit and saw beyond it, a small human crouching by the bins. He seemed as keen as I not to be spotted, and I couldn't help feeling that a less glaring choice of shirt might have helped him.

We looked at each other, warily.

Separated for an instant by the storm of paper until, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind dropped and the papers fluttered to the ground. One sheet came to rest in front of me. I looked down and saw my own face staring back. And underneath, the hideous human name.

I shuddered in disgust and shame. By the bins the boy stared at me. His eyes flickered to the paper at my feet and back up to meet my gaze. He nodded, the slightest, barely perceptable movement of his head and then stood and jogged quietly past.

Thankful of his understanding, I continued my journey leaving behind the poster offering a reward for my safe return. I hoped the human boy was as successful in his own bid for freedom.

You can find out about the project and read the other contributions from writers across the country here 

http://www.brightondigitalfestival.co.uk/

Water #developingyoureye 3

Day 3 - you'll notice I am running a little behind!
Our day in Arundel started sunny but with the promise of rain - by the end of the day we had seen more water than we would have liked.

#developingyoureye

Photo Challenges

A couple of weeks ago I came across a photo challenge blog on wordpress. I've been doing quite a few daily challenges that call for nothing more than to post a picture on a theme each day - which is fun. But this weekly challenge posed a problem. It required a pingback to the original post...which would have been fine if a photo challenge fitted in with my wordpress blog. Dabblewords is all about the words. It has poetry and flash fiction...made up stuff. It does not have the introverted meanderings from the mind of a social network addict. So if I wanted to join in I either posted on blogger and shared it unofficially in the comments...which means not many people will even see it let alone read it...or I found a means to make it about words as well as pictures. And I think I may have cracked it. Taking the weekly theme, I choose a photograph and then I use that as the prompt for a piece of fiction. Presto...Not sure why I didn't think of it sooner! Perfect way to combine my two interests! My first two are up already on https://guerillawriting.wordpress.com/ . Feel free to mosey on over and have a look, leave a comment, or even join in with your own weekly photo...
You can find the link to the Weekly challenge in my previous post... (that's my sneaky way of getting you to read another post...lol!)

Bank Holiday Blues

I really don't like Bank Holidays. They sweep in with promises of activity and days out and good times but they never live up to expectation. In fact I can't remember the last time a Bank Holiday (Christmas not included - that's a whole other ball game) included a fun day out. I am therefore, as usual, home alone doing desultry housework, and trying to write something.
And I do have a project to write for...Crossing The Tees Festival mini project on breaking barriers and crossing boundaries. I have a story half written. It needs some work to beat it into shape.
I also have a poem to work on. That's a much more slippery piece. Tricksy. So it has been relegated to the "Look At Later" pile.

In the meantime, between loading the washer and washing the pots, I have drunk way to much coffee and written a six word story about waiting...
 ...and a Last Line First story about noise.
I'm now considering 75 words for Paragraph Planet.
Oh...and I've written a blog post...So. There you go. Productive Bank Holiday fun. Hope you're enjoying yours.

Challenges

I've neglected my blog again.
Well, not quite true. I have been visiting it, like a sick Auntie in a hospital, and peering at the stats, and feeling slightly amazed that it is still breathing. People are still coming in and looking at bits of it. So I've been scrolling through the old posts to see what they looked at, and thinking I really should add something new. I have even opened the "new post" tab. And I have stared at the big white space and that blinking little cursor. "Go on!" it blinked, "Type something...I dare you! Type, type, type..." A flickering black line whispering its mockery. And my words dried up. My thoughts disappeared. It's like magic. Really, it is. Stage magicians can make a woman disappear. A blinking cursor and a blank screen can make a brain disappear. But this magic is not real. It's just a trick. A sleight of hand. The brain is still there and it is still full of words. All it needs is for some rogue child to pull back the curtain and reveal all to the audience.

My rogue children currently come in the form of two challengers. They have crept in and twitched back the curtain.
First and most public is Natalie Bowers who started "Last Line First". A weekly flash writing challenge that I am trying to keep up with. I am failing miserably at it, but it's fun! I was fortunate enough to have a last line intriguing enough to be chosen for the challenge in week 4. Hence my lovely badge of honour which you can see on the right (Unless you're on a mobile device, in which case take my word for it, it's lovely!). We're on week eight now and I have just submitted again. (Told you I was failing at it!)
My second challenger is not quite so public, a personal challenge from a friend who pokes me, tuts at me, scolds me and makes me write. He fires random challenges to make me think, make me seek out the words and thoughts and find a way to get them onto the blank page. I don't always do what he tells me, but I do listen. He might not realise that, so hopefully this will serve to let him know his scolding is doing some good!
You can read the fruit of his four word challenge here, if you're so inclined and feel free to leave a comment.

The hardest part is often just daring to put a word - any word - onto the white page. Once a word is on there the page is not so white, not so blank, and not so scary. And if it turns out to be not quite the right word, I can always replace it with another...and another and another...and before I know it I've written something and there's a new post on my blog. Watch this space. The words are flowing again and Auntie Blog is feeling better.

Location Location Location

During my usual desultory Saturday morning Facebook and Twitter trawl, I came across a last call tweet for submissions to a geo-writing project in Brighton. Not having heard of geo-writing before I followed the link and discovered an interesting idea, and better still, I didn't actually have to be in Brighton to join in (not that there's anything at all wrong about being in Brighton, but I am 350 miles north of it and unlikely to be able to pop down to find a prompt....)
My own writing has been languishing in the doldrums lately so I was surprised to sense a little inner flutter of interest as I read about the project. Location inspired writing is sort of what got me started (see my Flashing post). So I clicked on the prompt and amazingly the flutter turned into a steady pulse...the prompt had immediately prompted an idea. The resulting short has been sent off - with a little trepidation. The rules say I don't have to be in Brighton to join in, but it does seem a little bit cheeky. I'm not in the location, and if you know me at all or have read any more of my blog, you will know I don't actually consider myself to be a writer. Double cheek!
The geo writing project ends on the 30th Sept so you could still join in if you are quick....only 50-250 words.
I will post my little offering here shortly - cutting and pasting in the Blogger app on my phone would try the patience of a saint. In the meantime I'd like to say thanks to these guys for getting my meagre creative juices flowing again:
http://www.geo-writing.com/index.htm

The writing by other contributors can be read here http://www.geo-writing.com/writing.php


Post Script:
As promised here is my meagre offering.

LOCATION: Carden Park

PROMPT: A woman in her 80s is asking people whether they have seen the aliens

Have you seen them?
Have you seen them?
Over and over, she asked, her quavering voice rising in agitation. Arthritic fingers clutching anxiously at their sleeves, hands, bags.
You must have seen them?
They were meant to be here. Meant to be here.
Meant to take me with them this time.
Promised me.
Promised.

People saw her, heard her desperate pleading, gave her a wide birth, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. They had seen nothing. Shaking their heads and looking away, they scurried past, not wishing to become involved.
Doubtless someone would come for her soon.
Safely inside their cloaked ship the aliens watched and waited.

Talking to myself!

A year or so ago (Ok a year ago to the day actually, thanks to a nifty little app) I was having a little rant to myself about those people who never reply to my emails and texts. Being something of a prolific "messager" I sway through a mixture of emotions if people don't respond to me - frustration, anger, worry, a certain amount of sadness and, not least, a deluge of self doubt. Naturally, they have not replied because I am simply not sufficiently interesting or important enough to them to merit it. Generally these feelings don't last long and I give myself a mental shake and get on with life. Eventually I do get a response and am suitably exasperated or overjoyed to discover that they are either completely unaware of the emotional turmoil their silence has caused, or astounded that I have been so bothered by it!  Well, we all have our own private megalomaniac tendencies, don't we? 

Anyway my point is, a year ago I said all that much more succinctly so thought I would share my attempt to capture the feeling in words.

Into the Ether

Letters spatter

Puddling into words

Sentences stream

Gurgling into silence.

 I think it's quite apt for blogging too....who knows whether anyone is even listening?