At our Writers’ Circus group we were given the topic for January 2019 of “a new beginning”.
As often happens, after a period of cogitation, with time pressing, I began to type with no clear idea of where I was heading.
This story came almost completely as a block of words, as if it had been lurking in my mind for years. And no, it is not autobiographical.
In its first version as submitted to the group, it was clunky and one-sided, written dispassionately, as if the narrator and observer were two different people. Then Kareth my inspirational, long-suffering editor and friend, encouraged me to ‘go for it!’, supplying insights and corrections from a female perspective.
I hope you will not find it too explicit.
This is a story is a flight of fancy set around thirty years from now.
I thought I had posted it to www.thebuzzinbee.co.uk last December but when I checked, it was absent. Regular readers will recall the website suffered a major glitch when our web hosting service ‘disappeared’ overnight, lost without trace.
So, you may have read Festimas 2057 before but if you have, dive in, refresh your brain cell and enjoy the music references all over again.
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
In the early part of 2018 the UK suffered an extended spell of sub-zero weather.
Glasgow and the West of Scotland had snowfalls of 4 feet. The blast from Siberia lasted for days on end.
Transport was disrupted offering our local train company Scotrail
Abelio a perfect additional excuse for late running, station skipping and
This gives the backdrop for this candy floss piece.
Read on and believe!
This is a tale based on fact from a long ago story.
It is set in Aberdeen at the height of the North Sea oil exploration boom in 1998.
Its memory was disinterred from my long-suffering memory cell when I was asked to set the
theme for our August story at Writers’ Circus.
I always have thousands of ideas for stories but caught unawares, I chose “Quandary”.
As frequently happens, I made several false starts on wildly different stories when this
one lit up and wrote itself, more or less.
My friends received it with modest enthusiasm and I edited to their comments.
I hope you enjoy it.
Mercifully short at around 4,500 words/ about 15 or so minutes to read.
This is another tale about my father, usually called Jack or sometimes Jock.
It came from my Dad and recounts an incident which happened in retirement when Mum and Dad lived at Dewshill Cottages beside the busy M8 motorway in the shadow of the Kirk o Shotts TV and Radio transmitter.
I have enjoyed telling this story down through the years because it captures the essence of Dad.
After a recent re-telling I was urged by my son Craig to write it down.
If you enjoy this one, try Early One Morning, a story from his time working at Yorkhill Hospital for Sick Kids.
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.”
This is another Maisie Kaywood story.
It reveals another side of Maisie and takes us into the world of of the medical profession.
Many thanks are due to Kareth Paterson for her diligence an fortitude. Any remaining errors are all mine,
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.