'Marriage Proposal?'
George knew she was his damsel in distress, an English rose needing to be saved, protected from the false knight’s armoured horse powered truck.
Dairy farmer by day, George was asleep in his bed when Estelle knocked on his door, her car broken down.
Wanting to lay down his life for a chance to make her happy he invited her to use his telephone.
Proffering tea, a warm chair by the aga, he wondered, could he win her heart?
An old knight at 59, past his prime, but if asked, Estelle would have lain beneath the stars with him forever.
(100 words excluding title.)
Goodwood
Friday, 6 April 2012
Thursday, 5 April 2012
E… is for… Elation #atoz
Elation: That sense of ‘euphoria’ which floods my body, mind or spirit when nothing feels this good, sounds this sensational, feels this wonderful, tastes this sweet or looks this fabulous!
That moment of joy that places you,‘In seventh heaven.’
When your spirits rise and make you feel,‘Tickled pink.’
Which left you happy,‘On cloud nine.’
Or,‘Happy as a clam.’
You get my drift here: when was the last time you felt elated?
I’ll share my joyfulness here if you’ll share yours… I’d be ‘Cock-a-hoop!’
Can’t wait to hear what you might share: ‘With bells on.’
And I hope you’re all – ‘In fine fettle’ today.
That moment of joy that places you,‘In seventh heaven.’
When your spirits rise and make you feel,‘Tickled pink.’
Which left you happy,‘On cloud nine.’
Or,‘Happy as a clam.’
You get my drift here: when was the last time you felt elated?
I’ll share my joyfulness here if you’ll share yours… I’d be ‘Cock-a-hoop!’
Can’t wait to hear what you might share: ‘With bells on.’
And I hope you’re all – ‘In fine fettle’ today.
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
D… is for… Disappointment #atoz
I’m a girl who adores butter.
Margarine – I spit at the idea.
So imagine my disappointment to discover that last weeks food shop yielded a blend of mixed vegetable fat that was wrapped to look like butter! I’d rather go hungry than eat/use it!
I felt robbed. Cheated and swindled. Talk about disappointed.
When was the last time a book disappointed you, as a reader?
Last month I came to: Mary Anne by Daphne Du Maurier, with a level of expectation for a good read that sadly was not met, despite this novel being well crafted. At reading group I discovered I was not alone in my disappointment.
So what does a new reader expect from a new author?
I was not disappointed by new author, Isabel Ashdown, who in my opinion, has delivered. Her first book ‘Glasshopper’ is a poignant and insightful read. And I would recommend it. I have not, as yet, read her second novel, ‘Hurry up and Wait’ but I have high hopes for another good read.
Disappointment can come in all shapes and guises. What disappointed you today, this week, this year?
Margarine – I spit at the idea.
So imagine my disappointment to discover that last weeks food shop yielded a blend of mixed vegetable fat that was wrapped to look like butter! I’d rather go hungry than eat/use it!
I felt robbed. Cheated and swindled. Talk about disappointed.
When was the last time a book disappointed you, as a reader?
Last month I came to: Mary Anne by Daphne Du Maurier, with a level of expectation for a good read that sadly was not met, despite this novel being well crafted. At reading group I discovered I was not alone in my disappointment.
So what does a new reader expect from a new author?
I was not disappointed by new author, Isabel Ashdown, who in my opinion, has delivered. Her first book ‘Glasshopper’ is a poignant and insightful read. And I would recommend it. I have not, as yet, read her second novel, ‘Hurry up and Wait’ but I have high hopes for another good read.
Disappointment can come in all shapes and guises. What disappointed you today, this week, this year?
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
C… is for… Colour #atoz
Does colour influence your life?
It does in mine. I adore stained glass windows; the way light diffuses through the glass and can light up a dull corner of a church with a glorious rainbow. I used to make stained glass panels as a hobby. My shed is set up with my tools and the last glass panel I was in the process of making, sits & waits for me to return to it.
The depth of the richness and the clarity of glass pulls me toward it; I lust after owning jewels that sparkle brightly. Rich iridescent colours sing to me.
As a photographer I was taught that the sky is my best friend, and to use it as a backdrop. It is forever changing, never constant.
So as a writer should I use the weather to set a scene? Or mislead the reader with a deliberate sign that takes the reader away from the impending disaster?
Yet strangely I wear a lot of black for ease, and comfort as I’m never keen to wear too much colour in the winter. But once the summer is here it’s good to peel back the layers and suddenly I’m happy to wear pinks and purples and oranges.
But my skin, fair, white and pale doesn’t love the sun.
And I know if a stranger touches my arm and simply asks; ‘are you feeling okay?’ I know that the colour has drained from my face and that my ghostly pallor frightens people. The art of fainting stopped occurring after I turned 26 but I still pull off a remarkable trick of a spectre like apparition, a translucent impression on a bad day when my body dips.
But my characters need colour, in their language, like a truculent teenager disagreeing with his mother, or describing an old man across the road, rude and curmudgeonly. I need these impressions to jump off the page in the dialogue so that my reader can imagine each detail I deliver and yes it’s nice to know their eyes are green but not until I’m well into the story. At a suitable juncture. When it’s more appropriate to include, minor detail.
What colours your judgment? Your life? Your writing?
It does in mine. I adore stained glass windows; the way light diffuses through the glass and can light up a dull corner of a church with a glorious rainbow. I used to make stained glass panels as a hobby. My shed is set up with my tools and the last glass panel I was in the process of making, sits & waits for me to return to it.
The depth of the richness and the clarity of glass pulls me toward it; I lust after owning jewels that sparkle brightly. Rich iridescent colours sing to me.
As a photographer I was taught that the sky is my best friend, and to use it as a backdrop. It is forever changing, never constant.
So as a writer should I use the weather to set a scene? Or mislead the reader with a deliberate sign that takes the reader away from the impending disaster?
Yet strangely I wear a lot of black for ease, and comfort as I’m never keen to wear too much colour in the winter. But once the summer is here it’s good to peel back the layers and suddenly I’m happy to wear pinks and purples and oranges.
But my skin, fair, white and pale doesn’t love the sun.
And I know if a stranger touches my arm and simply asks; ‘are you feeling okay?’ I know that the colour has drained from my face and that my ghostly pallor frightens people. The art of fainting stopped occurring after I turned 26 but I still pull off a remarkable trick of a spectre like apparition, a translucent impression on a bad day when my body dips.
But my characters need colour, in their language, like a truculent teenager disagreeing with his mother, or describing an old man across the road, rude and curmudgeonly. I need these impressions to jump off the page in the dialogue so that my reader can imagine each detail I deliver and yes it’s nice to know their eyes are green but not until I’m well into the story. At a suitable juncture. When it’s more appropriate to include, minor detail.
What colours your judgment? Your life? Your writing?
B… is for… Belief #atoz
When I was a young girl I came face to face with one of those treacherous teachers who denied me, my belief. I was told categorically that my English was atrocious and that I’d never amount to anything. Ever.
Harsh words for a developing teenager. I trust those teachers are a breed that have died out now.
I forgot about writing and went and got on with my life. Then I hit my 40’s and had a yen to write. I never showed anyone those early pieces, because I'm certain those pages are full of grammatical errors.
But undaunted I forged ahead, because I derived personal pleasure from the exercise of committing my thoughts to paper and then… one day I did show my work to a very close friend.
That was the best moment when she yelled: ‘oh my god, you’re a dark horse!’ Made me smile from ear to ear to have such magnanimous praise thrown in my direction.
Encouraged I joined a writing group. I was nervous. For months I never shared my work, but I listened intently to other writers until my confidence grew and then I shared my work with them. Again I received praise. To me this was a revelation.
Inside the safety of this group I grew as a writer, grew braver, and became more discerning. I trusted these people because they did not trample on my thoughts. They helped me to believe that I did have a strong writing voice.
How has your writing developed? Especially if you are a new writer… And naturally I would love to know what inspires you to write?
Harsh words for a developing teenager. I trust those teachers are a breed that have died out now.
I forgot about writing and went and got on with my life. Then I hit my 40’s and had a yen to write. I never showed anyone those early pieces, because I'm certain those pages are full of grammatical errors.
But undaunted I forged ahead, because I derived personal pleasure from the exercise of committing my thoughts to paper and then… one day I did show my work to a very close friend.
That was the best moment when she yelled: ‘oh my god, you’re a dark horse!’ Made me smile from ear to ear to have such magnanimous praise thrown in my direction.
Encouraged I joined a writing group. I was nervous. For months I never shared my work, but I listened intently to other writers until my confidence grew and then I shared my work with them. Again I received praise. To me this was a revelation.
Inside the safety of this group I grew as a writer, grew braver, and became more discerning. I trusted these people because they did not trample on my thoughts. They helped me to believe that I did have a strong writing voice.
How has your writing developed? Especially if you are a new writer… And naturally I would love to know what inspires you to write?
A… is for… 'Adventure' #atoz
What does ‘adventure’ mean to you?
Perhaps you think might of Captain Scott as a hero who attempted to conquer the Antarctic or Neil Armstrong for the first walk on the moon.
For me adventure means exploring ideas, my ‘what if scenario’s’ and then finding a way to write about them, that I can share.
Does an adventure have to be really big, or very brave, and cost a small fortune?
Because a day filled with smaller explorations into the mind of characters may be just as satisfying for some individuals.
Over the years I have participated in some mad things, some of which I’m proud of and others that have pushed me out of my comfort zone. But recently I have derived the most pleasure from sharing my work with readers.
And when and if these readers choose to leave a comment and offer feedback because my writing resonates with them, I get great a huge boost of contentment, because it’s good to know that someone understands what I have attempted to explain.
So I shall continue my modest adventure in writing until I discover if I can secure my aim: to find an agent who will promote my book which will win a publishing deal on its own merits.
Wish me luck, in my real life-size adventure… Because I wish you all that you wish for yourselves in your adventures.
Perhaps you think might of Captain Scott as a hero who attempted to conquer the Antarctic or Neil Armstrong for the first walk on the moon.
For me adventure means exploring ideas, my ‘what if scenario’s’ and then finding a way to write about them, that I can share.
Does an adventure have to be really big, or very brave, and cost a small fortune?
Because a day filled with smaller explorations into the mind of characters may be just as satisfying for some individuals.
Over the years I have participated in some mad things, some of which I’m proud of and others that have pushed me out of my comfort zone. But recently I have derived the most pleasure from sharing my work with readers.
And when and if these readers choose to leave a comment and offer feedback because my writing resonates with them, I get great a huge boost of contentment, because it’s good to know that someone understands what I have attempted to explain.
So I shall continue my modest adventure in writing until I discover if I can secure my aim: to find an agent who will promote my book which will win a publishing deal on its own merits.
Wish me luck, in my real life-size adventure… Because I wish you all that you wish for yourselves in your adventures.
A to Z Blogging Challenge #atoz
There is nothing quite like arriving late to a party so here I go and make my clumsy entrance, falls over own feet and knocks a few things to the floor, nothing new there then…
I signed up for the A to Z blogging challenge in the wee small hours of this morning –it seemed like an awfully good idea - just before the deadline loomed and closed so I’m around 2 blog posts behind the rest of the gang.
My thanks to the lovely people for organising this shin dig of an event which has gathered a huge crowd of bloggers together… I'm number #1914 – yikes so a fair bit of reading available here alone, reading other entrants blogs.
And I’ve already had some wonderful bloggers show up at my own blog and leave a lovely comment so thank you, much appreciate your early participation.
That said:
Aim to be caught up and on top of this lovely exciting challenge by tomorrow (that’s Wednesday – phew what a relief) so that I appear to be nicely in step by Thursday and all I have to do is conjure up a few ideas.
A… is for…
Hmm, now let me think – back to you later with a morsel of an offering.
I signed up for the A to Z blogging challenge in the wee small hours of this morning –it seemed like an awfully good idea - just before the deadline loomed and closed so I’m around 2 blog posts behind the rest of the gang.
My thanks to the lovely people for organising this shin dig of an event which has gathered a huge crowd of bloggers together… I'm number #1914 – yikes so a fair bit of reading available here alone, reading other entrants blogs.
And I’ve already had some wonderful bloggers show up at my own blog and leave a lovely comment so thank you, much appreciate your early participation.
That said:
Aim to be caught up and on top of this lovely exciting challenge by tomorrow (that’s Wednesday – phew what a relief) so that I appear to be nicely in step by Thursday and all I have to do is conjure up a few ideas.
A… is for…
Hmm, now let me think – back to you later with a morsel of an offering.
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