Category: Writing

Time Traveller Returns From 1967 #urban fantasy

Flower Power2

Hello everybody,

I’m back following a month spent in a posh boarding school for girls.

My time machine took me back to 1967, as instructed, but not to the right month or the right location. Instead of visiting San Francisco to participate in The Summer of Love, I ended up on the southeast coast of the UK in the Autumn, in time for some less than peaceful happenings at a girls boarding school.

By the end of 2015, you will all have a chance to learn what a close call it was for the world during that term of 1967. Meanwhile, try to imagine how Doctor Who must feel about all those occasions he has saved our world from destruction by unwelcome extraterrestrials or creatures from other dimensions.

Enough of that for now. I don’t want to jitter present students at the posh establishment upon which I’ve based my fictional school: well, not yet, anyway.

Wearing my serious face now, I completed the July on-screen edit of my urban fantasy novel Desiccation, as intended, arriving at the end — albeit, exhausted — on the 31st of the month. Next thing on the agenda is to do an out-loud read-through from hard copy, doubtless, driving my family up the wall. But the dog will enjoy it, I’m sure.

Apart from this, of course, I intend to spend some serious catch-up time over at your blogs. I have missed you all during my sabbatical and have had a mighty battle with myself to stay away from WordPress. Just as well my time machine wasn’t advanced enough to send messages into the future whilst sojourning in the past.

And for your enjoyment, I’ve brought back a top ten hit from the music charts of 1967 that is a personal favourite of one of the main characters in my novel. Unfortunately, I can only mention the song by title in the story, otherwise I end up in copyright territory, which can prove expensive. As a teenager, The Who were one of my favourite groups, so the least I can do is give them a mention in my fiction all these years later.

Wishing you all a happy and fulfilling August

With love,

Sarah x

 

Friday Fictioneers — Alternate Histories, Time to Choose

hyde-hall-light

In 2092, Sergeant Major Sullivan, aged 28, attended the grand opening of a museum housing  previously looted antiquities recaptured from The Enemy. One such antiquity was an ornate, rather hefty cast iron light fixing. During a speech delivered by General Kahn, head of the United European Federation Army, the fixing came away from the ceiling and plummeted down onto Sullivan’s head, killing him outright.

The alternate history was that in 2092, Sullivan attended the same museum opening, but as an enemy operative. Thus, the antiquity killed General Kahn instead and started World War Three.

In 2093, scientists invented a time machine in both alternatives.

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: Image © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Friday Fictioneers — The Honest Estate Agent

Kitche picture prompt

When you do business with me, you’ll discover I’m the most honest estate agent in the world, which is why I don’t wear a suit and tie.

Sir, Madam, even though this house seems tranquil, it’s my duty to warn you about the poltergeist. Once upset, she bangs pots, hurls dishes around the kitchen, and turns on gas rings in the night, or worse.

You might think it impertinent of me to ask, Mr Johnston, but do you take your turn with cooking and washing up? If the answer is no, forget this house. The poltergeist will give you hell.

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo prompt: image © Raina Ng

June’s Guest Storyteller, Louise Jensen

Louise Alison JensenLouise Jensen is a Reader, Writer and Mindfulness Coach. Louise started writing after a car accident left her with permanent mobility problems which meant a radical lifestyle change. Louise writes health and wellbeing articles for various publications, flash fiction for her own blog and is currently editing her first domestic noir novel.

Louise runs Mindfulness classes for those living with chronic pain, anxiety or depression or anyone interested in exploring their relationship with themselves, and also coaches via Skype.

Louise’s fiction blog can be found here https://fabricatingfiction.wordpress.com

Louise’s Mindfulness blog can be found here http://thehappystarfish.co.uk

Thanks Sarah for inviting me as a guest storyteller. I love participating in the Friday Fictioneers challenge each week, creating a 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt but I have really enjoyed writing something without keeping an eye on the word count.

Accidents Happen

Lying is an art form and it’s one I’m rather good at. After all, I practise often; no, your bum doesn’t look big in those jeans; yes, dinner tastes delicious; no, of course I didn’t kill him. 

I glug scarlet wine into goblets and smile as the colour reminds me of blood spilling from a shattered skull. 

It was one of those freak unfortunate events. Someone had to help me fix the aerial on the roof. I could hardly ask you to climb up there could I, darling? My brother was only too willing to help. It was about time he did something to earn his keep. I was sorry when he ‘slipped’. 

‘Accidents happen’ I told you, and I turned away from your pained expression. Did you think I hadn’t noticed the way you looked at him, the way he looked at you?

But this is nice isn’t it? A romantic dinner, just the two of us. It feels like old times. 

I fork food into my mouth and chew. It’s spicier than normal, a tang I can’t quite put my finger on. I try to swallow, but my throat is burning, swollen. My airway constricts and I cough and splutter pieces of pork all over our chalk white tablecloth.

I reach towards you, gasping for help. You lean back in your chair and twirl your wineglass between two fingers.

‘Oh look’,’ you say. ‘Another of those freak unfortunate events. Accidents happen.’ 

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Sarah says: Thank you so much for guest storytelling this month, Louise, and for your wicked contribution! I loved how your protagonist got a dose of her own medicine in a way most fatal. A wonderful stinging twist at the end there.

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You can find the links to previous guest storyteller posts at 

Friday Fictioneers — Beating Swords Into Sewing Needles

c-hase

On my thirteenth birthday, my father presents me with a suit of armour. I thank him out of duty, but my words do not match what’s in my heart. If only he could have given me a dress of scarlet silk in the latest fashion of the French Court.

Every night I pray that I’ll wake up a woman, but my prayers go unanswered. The priests would say the Almighty doesn’t make mistakes.

Tomorrow, I will visit the Apothecary and ask if he has a magical potion to unshackle me from the chains that bind me to the wrong body.

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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo Prompt: image © C. Hase