Friday 17 November, 2023
This is a full length novel.
It is about a refugee trapped in a camp in Greece who makes his way to Scotland to do his best to establish a new life.
The major part of the novel is set in Edinburgh and Glasgow and I hope these locations will be realistically depicted and recognisable to some.
And:
This story has taken many months to write and will take several hours to read. I ask you to try, say, ten pages and see if it grips you. Thank you.
My thanks go to several of my regulars and especially to Evelyn Tingle from our Writers’ Circus group and Alan Menmuir who read and commented on my original version. Invaluable.
As with any self-edited larger piece of writing, this story MUST contain errors and typos. I ask for your forbearance. Should you spot these, please your judgment as to meaning and read on.
Thursday 16 November, 2023
This is a confection generated by a 10 minute flash fiction exercise at our November 2023 Writers’ Circus meeting.
The Topic/Title given was “What I can hear”.
Under pressure of this time limit, this is what came to mind.
Takes about two minutes to read.
Tuesday 7 November, 2023
I hope this little piece of candy floss writing might amuse.
When we manage to find our way to Peebles via Carluke (not easy from the new M8 heading East), the opening sentence in the story applies to us.
Behind us to the North is the edge of the Glasgow-Edinburgh industrial belt and ahead, to the South are rolling hills and green fields filled with sheep, cattle and wind turbines!
I do like the song featured in the title.
Here is a YouTube link
https://youtu.be/Fjufjv4rH0s?si=Q4EoawQ9xVPzJ_vK
Friday 20 October, 2023
This is another tale based on a conversation with my grandson Drew (aged 8).
The entire story as written is almost verbatim from a journey we made through heavy traffic.
I suppose part of my motivation in publishing it here is to provided a record for my sons Stuart and Craig and perhaps for my five grandsons in the future at a time when they might be interested.
If you are wearying, skip through the indented part and scan the dialogue sections alone.
Thursday 12 October, 2023
At a recent Writers’ Circus meeting, in accordance with our established routine, we attempted to write a readable story against a time limit of TEN MINUTES.
On my way to the venue at 103 Trongate in Glasgow, (we start at the civilised hour of 11.00 am), I witnessed an encounter of two glammed up ladies in their mid fifties. possibly heading for a coffee and catch-up session?
“Helloww, how are Yooou?”
“Oh, you know, Living the Dream.”
Evelyn, our usual Flash Fiction organiser, did not have a topic for us and I pitched my proposal.
Off we went!
Here is a tidied up and slightly and expanded version of my offering.
Thursday 12 October, 2023
This story came from a Writers’ Circus challenge on the theme ‘Harvest Festival’.
In the 1960s when I lived in Govanhill near the Synagogue in Bellisle Street (a tiny sanctuary now long closed), my Mum was the cleaning lady cum ‘manager’. This entailed the duty of opening the Synagogue for morning and evening prayers and quite often I would be delegated to perform the evening duty. At this time I was a late teenager with dark Beatle’s hair and a straggly beard.
The worshipers, mostly elderly men wearing long coats and felt hats, would arrive on foot in drabs and drabs hoping for a minimum of TEN men (a ‘Minyan’ (meen-yon)) to enable prayers and scripture readings to be performed at their evening ritual. Those who did not know me would scold my bare head with:
“YARMULKE! YARMULKE!”
In the autumn, in a tiny garden beside the Synagogue, they would build a (deliberately) flimsy structure, a shack-like tent where the worshipers crowded say prayers and sing unaccompanied to celebrate the Festival of Tents (Sukkot).
Armed with this memory, this story wrote itself.
More info at: https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/4784/jewish/What-Is-Sukkot.htm.
Thursday 12 October, 2023
This tale came from a Writers’ Circus challenge.
We were sent a copy of a photograph of a statue which stands at the entrance to Glasgow’s Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA).
In this snap, the Duke of Wellington is Wellington astride his warhorse Copenhagen. On Wellington’s head he has a red and white traffic cone. Glasgow humour.
This image rattled around in my head until we arrived at Scone, Stirling in our caravan for a few days. We had hoped to go to Blair Atholl Caravan park but it was FULL due the the Blair Castle Horse Trials.
The story wrote itself.
Tuesday 19 September, 2023
This is a tale written while holidaying in our tiny caravan at Silverdyke Park near Cellardyke, in the East Nuek of Fife, (September 2023).
The idea came from noticing spider activity and their desire to hide indoors as autumn turned to winter.
From Cellardyke we had a great view of the Isle of May.
Suspend your critical faculties and enjoy this fantasy tale of the tiny Clan Deft spiders as they seek to outwit their huge Clan Brag spider neighbours.
Saturday 19 August, 2023
This story was prompted by a Writers’ Circus topic ” An Appointment”.
When an idea came a calling and the story began, it wrote itself.
The tale is bout living through the trials of later life: disappointment, bereavement, facing loneliness and finding new friendships.
Thursday 13 July, 2023
This story was written for a Writers’ Circus challenge entitled “Outside in”.
It is a compilation of snippets from conversations with my grandon Drew (7) as we travel from his home to football training.