99 Word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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April 18, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about gender. It can be fixed or fluid. Explore the topic on your own terms and open your mind to possibilities and understanding. Go where the prompt leads!

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Boys and girls

My mother’s despair plain to see

At my unladylike behaviour

As I climb the conker tree

With my dress tucked inside my underwear

To beat the boys was my game

I take my brother’s double cap gun holster

Make my own bow and arrow

Dolls and frills were not for me

Until a daughter came to me

I dress her in silks and frills

As my mother would have liked to see

Quite the woman I turned out to be

My daughter never climbed a tree

No guns, no bows and arrows

Today’s boys and girls play the same…

AAAAA

#Writephoto ~ Decisions

Thursday photo prompt: Decisions #writephoto

 

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Image from scvincent.com

 

 

Where you are going, isn’t as important as the journey

Places you find along the way, people you stop to talk to

That one odd shoe by the wayside, what happened to the other?

The unexpected gift of companionship while eating lunch

A stranger taking time to talk to me

Telling me, I should visit the church of Mary Magdalene

‘You may find something you lost while you’re there.’

I thanked my visitor, deciding to take a look

A tiny church on the edge of a green field

Inside, the colour from the stained glass windows

Stole my breath, I had walked into a rainbow

I felt the warmth, a greeting.

I sat awhile and could think of nothing I had lost

Until I came across an old wooden sign post

Blank on all three sides

Until then, I was comfortable ambling along

Now I felt lost, with nothing to point the way

As I choose my destination, a song came to mind

I’m on the road to nowhere, what will I find?

What kind of story will I take home?

Will I return from an unknown destination?

Fanciful thinking there will be a town or village somewhere

After walking a while, I could see no rooftops, no steeple

Looking back towards the signpost, I could not see it.

Had I walked myself into the other side of time?

I had to keep walking, believing I would find something

Not a brand new signpost, each pointer leading somewhere

I could not read, the language was one I had not come across

My inner voice told me to turn back, away from this forgotten field

Each step became heavy, full of worry

I gave a sigh of relief, seeing the pub in the distance

Once inside I asked the landlord about the new signpost

He said there was only the old one, my lovely

Hold on, I said, I can show you. I took a shot with my phone

but scanning through, I found nothing.

I know it was there, I touched it, smooth, warm from the sun

I can still feel it on the palm of my hand…

AAAAA

Jaye’s Journal ~ week 15

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Are there days when you cannot cope with your chosen occupation?

I have had many jobs in my time and hated quite a few of them, but never thought I would ever feel less than love for writing.

Lately, I have been having days when things seem to be slipping, a digital carrying-on that can plague anyone who switches on a computer.

This week, I had more than one day like this. A fatal mixture of an old and feeble person trying to use an equally old and feeble computer.

The overall tone of the week surprised me, seeing as I had just typed those magic words at the end of my WIP, I should be happy or at least relieved, or optimistic reaching the end of what has turned out to be a fascinating if complicated story.

Secretly though, I knew why I wasn’t jumping around like an idiot. I am an idiot (most of the time), but that wasn’t the reason.

I was secretly terrified that, having written this unusual and complicated story, that I wasn’t competent enough to present it in the best possible light.

This is a story that I didn’t know much about initially, or how to write it. It has been one hell of a learning curve. The research alone took almost as long as writing it.

 

Something strange happened today.

I have recently changed the header image on our website, and that is what I expected to see when I logged on, but the picture I saw was not mine and one I had never seen before.

How was this even possible?

Also, the new header image had vanished. It wasn’t saved with all the other old headers, so whoever had changed it had run off with my new one.

Surely, this couldn’t happen, could it?

Perhaps it was a message from my muse, for I wasn’t happy with my choice, so maybe she wasn’t either…

watermark xjj

 

Is There Any More?

 

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

I have been told that thinking is a dangerous thing to do at my age.  It is possibly a dangerous thing to do at any age, if you think about it, for who knows where it may lead?

But I quite like thinking, and all the things that trigger it off. Like books and pictures for instance. What I could do with is some method of retaining said thoughts, as they usually evaporate like so much smoke, never to be seen again. I make notes on everything in a vain hope of remembering all the good stuff, and it works some of the time.

Then I am told ‘what do you expect, at your age?’

But this is the difficult part. My mind does not feel old, even though it seems to have more holes in it than my favourite cheese, and when I see or read something that stirs my imagination, I am back in my prime, having a sneaky feeling that this is not all there is for me.

Some of the time I must admit that I really don’t want any more, I am too tired to even consider the possibility. But then there are the other days– days when you forget just how old, and how stiff you are. That you find it difficult just going to the shops and back.
Days when you choose to ignore the sands of time slipping through your fingers and find yourself considering the most amazing possibilities.

Of course, this may be what happens as you approach old age. I don’t know, I have no experience or knowledge of it, not having done it before.

But if you can think, you can dream. And if you can dream I believe you can do anything… at any age!

watermark xjj

Flash Fiction 99 Word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community

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My school was buzzing today, the nuns were all running around like deranged penguins. We were to receive a special throat blessing from the Bishop and were to address him as Your Eminence if spoken to.

The blessing involved two large candles joined in the shape of a V.

Sister Margaret held my hair away from the flame as the candles were placed around my throat and I have never suffered from a sore throat since.

Not bad going for 72 years.

I have wondered whether it was the blessing or just good luck

It still puzzles me today…

AAAAA

Thoughts…

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Jaye said I should think of something different to write about.

Short stories or romance, ghosts, hauntings, all of which I think I do.

Unlike Jaye, I am only good at one thing. The work I put out, good or bad, I can’t always tell until there is feedback.

I know that sometimes the pieces I put in front of Jaye have moved her to tears. So maybe there is something to them. Either that or she is just a soft Nellie. Who knows?

I can only do what comes from the pen. Good or bad, it is for others to judge.

I guess I can tell when the web is silent, the likes low.

Maybe Jaye is right, the pen has had its day.

Then again, we don’t always agree from one second to the next.

Unless there is a blue moon, and they don’t come around very often.

AAAAA

This is Where I Want to be, Right Now!

 

Writing Inspiration

This magical photograph is of an actual place in Cornwall. I know because I have been there. I have stood beneath it, getting soaked to the skin and I have climbed up the rocks and stood looking down at the majesty that is moving thundering water. The sight and sound of it put something in my soul that I know wasn’t there before. It was a truly wonderful experience, and if I had the money I would move to Cornwall just to be near it. And I would have to go and experience Niagara Falls! (mind you, I may never come home again if I ever get there!)

If you ever feel a little bit worthless or a waste of space, and I believe a lot of us do feel that way sometimes, you need a place like this. You need to be able to see and feel something that you just know is stronger and more powerful than anything you have seen or felt before. Once you find it, you will be a different person, believe me. I always love to be near water, any kind of water. I wanted to live on a boat when I was growing up and it still appeals to me.

The first time I went to Cornwall I was not really prepared for just how much that County had to offer. Apart from all the quaint old villages, there were magical forests, wonderfully rugged beaches and coves, dramatic rock formations and inspiring scenery everywhere you looked. I have had more inspiring moments in Cornwall than just about anywhere else.

I need some of that inspiration round about now as I am still trying to finish PayBack, my current WIP. Getting to grips with the editing, but I have yet to reach that moment when the end is in sight. This story is something I have wanted to do for a long time now, and I am determined to try and get it right. One way or another I will get it right and get it done, but where is my inspiration at the moment?

I think it is back in Cornwall without me…

AAA (2)

One of our best Worst Ideas Yet?

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As if we don’t have enough to do, we have stumbled into what might possibly be either a brilliant idea, or the worst kind of madness ever to visit our house.

I’m not sure where this idea came from, but for some totally inexplicable reason, we are both equally enthusiastic about actually writing a mystery/thriller book together.

This may not work for a multitude of reasons, for we usually write in such different genres/and the arguments will probably reach hitherto unreached levels/we may end up killing each other!

We have started, and early indications would suggest it could possibly work!

Anita wrote the first section/intro, and I nervously followed. We average about 500 words each, but this could easily change when the musts get going.

Quite apart from being the most unlikely writing partnership, can you imagine what our respective muses must be thinking?

Other writers have done this, and in the past, we have often wondered how it would work. Now we will discover how hard it will be and if it will even work for us. And if we can do it without any of our legendary arguments, it will be a miracle!

Already, the conversations about the direction of the plot have been pretty spectacular, for we have such very different ideas about everything. The fact that I am the thriller writer around here stands for nothing, and my suggestions have not been well received, to put it mildly!

Today’s discussion ended with Anita suggesting that we start again, and this time write a spooky supernatural story.

We could, of course, but I am trying to finish my current WIP at the moment and all of this chaos is playing havoc with my schedule. It is my turn to write the next section, so I had better make it good!