All posts tagged: literature

Mini Celebration!

Woo! Today I struck 15,000 hits on Writing and Works! It seems that the stats keep going up and up lately and it makes me so happy to see people reading and enjoying my work. So here is a blast from the past, posted when I only had fifty followers and was just starting to get to grips with WordPress in April 2012. Artwork by the wonderful DeviantArt artist The Forsaken Sailor Siren’s Song James McCormic wouldn’t realise it until it was too late, but he never stood a chance when it came to the beautiful girl sitting in the window of the coffee shop on St George’s Street. He had to walk past the shop most mornings, his eyes flickering towards the flawless glass each time, just to check if she was there. Always waiting with her coffee cup in one hand and a blank covered book perched carefully upon her knee. She never saw him. At least James knew that she had never looked at him. Her gaze would remain downcast and he …

Speaking Art

Eleanor Fallaway knew very little about art. What she did know was how to lie to a very convincing level.“Well,” said her boss, making his way around the empty podiums stationed throughout his museum. “It’s certainly interesting.”“It’s exactly what’s needed to launch ourselves into this previously untapped market,” Eleanor grinned, “A real head-turner. Did you know that ninety percent of teenagers don’t even know that art museums still exist!”“Really?” Her boss’s eyes widened. “You don’t say?”“Oh I do!” Eleanor nodded enthusiastically. “And this will bring them in will it?” he asked, gazing at the podium critically.“When the models are installed they will come flocking,” she assured him.“Flocking?”“Flocking!”“Good,” he said, turning to walk back to his office. “Oh, by the way,” he paused and glanced back. “What was it called again?”“The extraordinary within the ordinary,” Eleanor replied.“Hum,” nodded her boss. “Original.”

The Novelist

[PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields] Sir Edward had started fifty different novels seated at his grandfather’s desk and that was where they all remained. Each one tucked away at various stages of incomplete, to be returned to when he finally found the inspiration to do them justice.His wife had laughed at him.“Another one? Really my love, I’m starting to think that your desk may be cursed?”He shrugged her off with a fresh page, tucking away her scorn with the rest of his words.“It’s a poet’s desk,” warned his father. “You won’t write much but rhyme.”“Perhaps,” said Sir Edward, “but there’s still plenty to write.” [104 Words]

Save Yourself [Contains Swearing]

“You didn’t even try to save me!” Amanda gasped, hands clutching her knee-caps as if she’s afraid they may fall off onto the seed-weed strewn floorboards of the cabin at any moment. “You were fine,” Griffin drawled. He keeps his eyes fixed on the mechanisms of his gun, polish rag dropped in his laps as he tries to find whatever’s jamming. Before she walked in he’s been swearing twelve shades of blue and threatening to feed Jarred to the dogs. Who Jarred was she hadn’t got a clue. “You left me to drown!” she snapped, voice stronger now she wasn’t spitting up salt-water. “You were performing what looked like a pretty effective butterfly manoeuvre to me.” “I was flailing!” “And wonderfully so!” grinned Griffin. “Why didn’t you do something?” she demanded. “I could have died and then it would have been on you!” Griffin shrugged. “I could have tried to save you I suppose. However, I didn’t want to offend you.” “Offend me? How the fuck would you saving me from drowning offend me?” she …

Watertight

“You’ve checked the cargo right, the last thing we need is that thing going off when we’re halfway across the continent?” asked Pike for the fourth time in as many minutes. “It’s secure,” Maisie assured him, the steel soles of her boots clanging against the grated floor as she dropped down from the ladder and into the cockpit. “You worry too much, this deal is as watertight as they come.” Pike shrugged as she shed her jacket and dropped into the seat next to him, her grey t-shirt and black trousers matching his own, he did his best not to stare at the scar running from shoulder to little finger, or the plating around her elbow. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “that’s what we thought about the last deal as well.”

Search And Recover

“What do you think we’ll find down there,” Adam asked, wresting the protective skin over his shoulders as he bent down next to the only window on the plane.“Bodies,” scowled Eloise, glancing up from her computer. “If we’re lucky. Base wants subjects for studying. See how this thing started.”“You mean how the attack started?” said Adam, finally in the suit now. The thin, navy material left nothing to the imagination. Eloise swallowed and turned back to her screen.“We’re not sure if it was an attack yet.”“How else-““Honestly Adam! I’m not sure I want to know.”

Fireworks

There is someone juggling fireworks. Somewhere beyond these fields. There is someone juggling fireworks while I was curled cool and content beneath the weight of blankets with books to read. There is someone juggling fireworks now the rain has stopped. There is someone juggling fireworks now the wind has dropped. There is someone juggling fireworks in the calm after heat. There is someone juggling fireworks who’s pulled me back from sleep. There is someone juggling fireworks. Sporadic, out of sync. Who is juggling fireworks upon a country-side at peace. A quick free-write poem on a lovely cool Saturday night.  

Taking On The King

“I think,” said Death, my bishop clattering onto the table-top as he slid his queen across the board, “that it takes a certain type of fearlessness to defy a King.” “Oh really?” I asked, scowling at the three pawns that were all that was left of my defence, he was just playing with me now. “What makes you say that exactly,” “Oh you know,” Death shrugged, knuckles now pressed into his jawline as he waited for me to make the next move, “they all generally end up in the same place.” “Maybe,” I said, “but you never know, fearlessness might simply be some greater fear in disguise.” I watched Death falter through my lashes. “Oh,” he said quietly. “Perhaps.” Grinning I slid one of my pawns forward. “You’re still losing you realise?” said Death. “Yeah I know, but I had you stunned for a moment there so I’m counting this game as a victory anyway.” This started as my entry for Lilly McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction Challenge Fearless but instead it turned into something a …

‘Femme’ – A Book Review

A science fantasy with a touch of romance. A utopian world with a touch of slavery. Kaley Blackburn is sent to Femme in her final year of Future Tech studies. The world is a socialist utopia of low crime, great health and advancements in technology that leave other worlds envious. It is a fantastic place to visit if you’re a woman. Men, on the other hand, are the slaves that tend to all feminine desires. Kaley knew about the world’s culture of slavery but never had to face it until she is assigned a slave, Mecca, for the duration of her stay. Mecca is handsome, intelligent and obedient, but every answer he gives to Kaley’s questions only feed her growing concerns. Does Femme hide an ugly truth beneath its beautiful surface and can she trust her feelings for a man whose sole duty is to make her feel special? I will admit that ‘Femme’ would not normally be the sort of book that I’d pick up when wandering around a bookshop or perusing Amazon. However, …

He had known he…

He had known her for all of three days. Still, she had saved his life and when they came to drag her to the pyre he’d fought for her, killed for her, earned the hangman’s noose and died for her. So why had he woken cold and alone, clawing at the ceiling of his coffin and trying to scream for help. The finalised opening for Henry Granger. The deadline for the complete draft is August 31st 2014.