the writing rectangle

Thanks to all who turned up last Wednesdy - I came away feeling positive about the group and really inspired to get down to some writing (have begun some notes for a 'Whatever happened to Tom/Dick/Harry?' story!
Chris - love your piece of work - I found it so funny I read it from front to back about three times in a row! One day you shall have that elusive audience - for now you'll have to make do with your faithful writing group.

Love,

AnnetteX

good morning

Have the sad news that my wonderful old faithful mouldy Ford Sierra has caught somebody's eye so much that they towed it away last night ! The battery was on the charger- the immoblizer was on, but was that a problem? NAY! they exclaimed, and took it as a challenge- so I am carbroken and did not even have the chance to wash off the mould before some new person sat on those comfy seats. Shall have to write to my Agony Aunt!

I hope this gets thorugh. I seem to have two blog accounts now, well two in the bush... or was it the other way around? Well I alkways thought two in the bush were better than one poor sod on his/ her own eh?
hugs
Corina

Testing.. testing

Looks like I'm okay to post still

The Importance of Titles

I would just like you all to know that my flatmate was using my computer yesterday, and in my bookmark's saw "Kara's Naughty Kids." She said, I don't even want to know. I said, No, it's a-- and she said, Don't care. Don't want to know. And I said, *sigh.*

Snapshot stories, boring?

So I thought I'd have a go at a snapshot thingie.
It has no story, but does that mean it's boring?
It's Like Watching Paint Dry

jim turns 5

Heyyyy, this is a series of shorts I'm going to intersperse between the longer pieces in my collection Your Future Life. They're kind of an antithesis to the idea of a future life as they're more about things you go through growing up, but they're also cyclical in that they are about raising a kid.

While I was going off Raymond Carver snapshots, I feel like these have more of a story to them than the Carver piece we read. There are four pieces here, "The Big Sleep," "Airbags went off," "Sunset at Bandaged Knee," and "Missile-Tow." I'll probably write one to two more. Any input on these would be great.

These shorts are all connected through one character, Jim. Whereas, the rest of the collection will be completely individual pieces. Bon appetit!

theme for stories

Hi All,

As you so rightly say Chris we really should use the blog to communicate then everything is in one place and there for all eternity…. Ah ah ha ha (evil laugh).

Meanwhile I have been thinking about our end of term booklets and themes and things. I think it would be nice to have a theme in a way, something to bind it all together.

I keep thinking about Ian’s story and his light touch about sex within a marriage. I think sex is an important part of life. A fact of life. Writing it well presents us all with a challenge but a very worthwhile one. It doesn’t need to be gratuitous but I don’t think you can avoid talking, or reading it, and be true to the art of writing. It’s like not talking about a part of life that makes us all tick to some extent.

Soo…. (boring stuff over) I think each of our stories should have some sex in them. Up to everyone how they do it. Maybe we should each choose a different ‘theme’ each even, (maybe that’s taking it too far!), but all of them to have something of sex in them.

What do you guys think?

Louise

blogging attemp #2

Just sending this as a test to see if i exist here? Am very confused!

I Did

This one has sexual content, but I'm sure you're all old enough. I would like to know if it works. Also, it is from a female POV, so that may also be an issue.

THIS IS NOT A TEST !!!!

Okay, here is a short story of mine. Not sure if some of you have seen it before.

Zaria AKA Louise

I here! Its nice in here isn't it? Great green decoration.
Thanks Pete for navigating us through the interweb trickery!
So I'm listed as Sister Zaria which is a hangover from another blog I have that I guess you can all have a look at now: http://sistersinthecity.blogspot.com/ I do do some writing sometimes...!
So sorry to miss you all at class this week. It turns out that the business of making books is just as scary and manic as writing the bloody things.
See you all for definate next week.
Louise

Hot Pants

A bawdy short-Story by Chris

A suggestion to keep things neat

Okay, I think we need to find a way to keep this thing useable.
The length of posts on this first page should be kept to a minimum.
So all you should write is a title and a one or two line explanation.
i.e. Title: Hot Pants
Subject: A bawdy short-story by Chris.
See above (hopefully)

And then post the story as a reply to that post and everyone else can add their comments.
Hopefully that way the front page will be a good navigation tool.

This is just a suggetion, so if anyone else has a thought it would be most welcome..

Sign-up process

Well I signed up Peter, but was kinda confusing.
But maybe because I have a googlemail account already.

When I went to ceate an account it took my details but then asked me to create a blog of my own.
So, I just signed in with my googlemail account and it worked fine.

Fighting Gravity

This is crazy.
Am I dreaming?
It's just wrong.
Wrong wrong wrong.
It's wrongness given form, then stamped and labelled with giant red letters.
W. R. O. N. G.

There's a bloody big hole, in the side of this... fucking plane.

I can see the sky outside. It's just floating; right there. I can almost touch it. Miles and miles of clear blue sky, warm open sunlight, and whisps of fluffy white clouds.

Am I the only one who comprehends this situation? They're all just sitting there, all huddled up close. Tight and tense and rigid. In their own little worlds. All oblivious to this massive gap in the side of the plane although it's big enough to push a piano through.

The man in charge barks an order at one of the other guys. The one who'd said his name was Kenny. Kenny, like the kid in that cartoon, who dies every week.
Kenny had grinned as he'd told us that.
He clearly had been dying to say it all day.

Kenny gets up and throws himself out of the plane.

If I weren't frozen rigid, I would crawl to the edge (bollocks) and try to watch as Kenny falls further and further out of reach, shrinking into a tiny speck of nothing. But I can't move. I need to stay away from that unnatural opening.

Jen is sitting next to me. She's squashed up right next to me and she can't sit still. Not even for a second. She's squirming and shifting and straining and stretching against me, and to be honest, it's really putting me off. She might knock me and I might fall or roll or trip or.... something. I could fall out of the hole. It's not safe.

She keeps shouting excitedly at me. I can't hear a word she's saying over the roar of the engine. She must know this, because I'd tried shouting back at her the first time, but of course she'd heard me no better than I hear her.
Not that it matters.

Jen is one of those vital and rare forces of nature.
She needs no words to communicate the things she has to share.
She sparkles and she shines for me.

I wish I did for her.

The open sunlight cools for just a moment. Bands of darkness ripple my mask as the rays are filtered by a passing cloud.
Jennifer stops for a fraction of a second.
Our eyes lock for a fraction of a second.

She discovers that big gateway to nothing as if for the first time.

The man in charge barks another order.
Jennifer and the world start moving again.

And even as I continue to push and edge myself in the other direction,
she gets up and throws herself out of the plane.