This is a wee tale prompted by a Writers’ Circus challenge - ‘the light switch’.
As I wrote I thought of it as a tale to be told to children, that is, as a ‘read to’ story. And, as usual, I wondered how to find a willing and affordable illustrator.
My writer friend Peter soon pointed out that this is in fact a story for adults, an archive story to remind us all what our wee ones are/were like at Ethan’s stage when questions come relentlessly.
Kareth Paterson my editor suggested that if it was to become a story for kids then it would need a lot of work to dramatise the language etc.
So, here it is, nearly as written. Many years from now Ethan as a bigger boy might read and enjoy it.
Perhaps one day, when Santa brings or sends me an willing and industrious illustrator, I will re-vamp it as a children’s story. Pigs might fly.
As you read you may detect that Ethan is keen on ice-cream and sweets, items he gets only very infrequently. Think healthy eating, think fruit!
This is a sad little tale about neighbours in a high rise block.
It was written in response to a Writers’ Circus challenge: “The man/woman upstairs.”
At Writers’ Circus we were challenged to write a piece about flying.
This tale recounts a short joy flight we experienced in Australia when visiting friends.
It happened a long time ago, but the take-off and landing trauma is with me still.
Far better to be in a big, big plane, with eyes firmly closed.
This is a wee tale set mainly in Dornoch, a tidy, well-heeled coastal town on the far north east coast of Scotland, famous for its golden sand beaches and its world-renowned golf course.
It was written as a response to a Writers’ Circus challenge - “I should have said something.”
The story centres on the actions of Janine, recently retired, who finds a suspicious object on the beach, while walking a friend’s dog.
This is a tale of a man who goes out into the gloom of a blustery afternoon in late autumn in search of prawns to make a spicy stir fry. . ..
Recently I came across what turned out to be an older version of this story that was full or errors!
I went at once to this website and read the ‘posted’ version which, while passable, needed improvement.
Here is the revised version.
Some time ago I wrote a story called “Driven”, which involved a lady police officer called Gemma Brownlee.
In Driven Gemma was a secondary character.
In Flash Flood she takes centre stage.
Beware, this contains some bad language and references to sex and drugs.
This is a story which came from a challenge I set for the Writers’ Circus.
I started out on a quite a different story and then, because I could not get it finished on time, I turned to this.
Where did it come from? No idea.
Let me know what you think?
This is a tale based on my father who was variously known as John, Jack and Jock.
The essence of this tale is true. My father was a joker who enjoyed winding people up.
This is a wee tale based on truth. It has haunted me for almost two decades.
It recounts a long-ago train journey.
It contains a particular swear word which is included because it was used and is necessary to convey what happened.
Some of the dialogue is in a Glasgow dialect, which may make it unintelligible to some readers. Sorry.
The story was written to meet a Writers’ Circus challenge - “The Train”.
Some of you who know me will have heard an oral version.
This is a wee story about three retired men who meet every week in Jacko’s Hut to do and say what they like, free of comments or interruptions from their wives.
One day they look out of the picture window.
Each sees the same object, but they do not agree what it is.
This version thanks to my son Stuart, who made several helpful suggestions.