100 word competition!

Just heard about a 100-word microstory competition which is part of The Lost World Read 2009 reading campaign (organised in Glasgow by Aye Write! and in Edinburgh by the Edinburgh UNESCO City of Literature Trust).  

Each week a 100 word diary entry in a lost book  is invited and the winning entry is included in the book.  Goes on till next July – no prizes, just the fun of the challenge and the glory of being included.  For more info, have a look at the website.  It links on to another site about Conan Doyle’s The Lost World with details of  associated events round the UK about both Conan Doyle and Darwin.   Some interesting stuff in Glasgow and Edinburgh which counts as local for me!

Here’s an Ending

Write a story in 100 words that ends…’as the train pulled out from the platform.’

For you to be able to post it on this blog, I need to invite you as a contributor.  Send a comment or email me offline and I can then invite you.  If you’re already signed up to WordPress, let me know and I can add you by that route!

Write on!

Valentine’s Day Angst

I’m posting Colleen’s on her behalf – technical refresher still to happen!

 

Valentine’s Day Angst

 

I’ve had bouquets of roses

and swathes of  nemesias,

bunches of violets

and sweet-smelling freesias -

-but never on Valentine’s Day

 

I’ve had dinners in restaurants

(candle-lit, dreamy);

walks on wild beaches

lit by the moon;

soirees for two

on evening verandahs;

guitar serenades

while the sun’s in a swoon –

-but never on Valentine’s Day

 

I’ve had presents of bracelets and

rings and pearl necklets;

I’ve been showered with gifts

that I blush to describe –

I’ve had chocolates from Belgium

and oysters from Spain

delight straight from Turkey

flown in by a plane -

 

no matter the month, the day or the season

I’ve had letters and cards for any sweet reason,

propositions, proposals,

romantic intention –

 

there’s always just been

this one odd exception

 

never,

no, never,

on Valentine’s Day!

 

doesn’t anyone love me?

Colleen

 

The hens are laying again!

Not a sizzle has been heard for many months. Let’s get cooking again.   Here’s a brand new challenge.  This time you have a choice. 

• Create an anti-Valentine card
• Write a recipe for a Valentine cake in no more than 100 words
• Send the planet a Valentine card in 8 lines of verse

Grumpy pedant note:  as if it wasn’t bad enough that Valentine’s Day has now become ‘Valentine’s’  (like ‘New Year’s’ – New Year’s what?), I’ve now seen ‘Valentines’ and it wasn’t a plural as in I didn’t receive any Valentines.  No, it was the name of the occasion.  Send your lover flowers on Valentines. I can’t cope.

Sunnyside Up and Down

 

Pollyanna is glad

the bus broke down

‘now we can

chat together’

 

 

Curmudgeon

throws a glare

at Little Miss Cheerful

 

Wedding shower

Braw gallant shoves hard,
too loud girl with fat legs yields-
hired kilt stays dry.

Umbrella held
over pretty flirty girl
young man beams wetly.

Half empty haiku…

Life is always

so full of worrying things

- the cancerous sun.

* * * *

And a half-full one…

The rain had fallen

for day after sodden day

- but the flowers grew still.

August (just) Challenge

You may have seen my tongue-in-cheek haiku on wordswordswords.  Today’s challenge is to write a pair of haiku(s) on the theme ‘glass half full/glass half empty’. 

Have just thought of it so no ideas yet myself – I’m sure you wits out there can cook up something!

Any more for the wall?

Or are you all sitting on the fence?  (Sorry!)

The Wall

“We thought we’d put in a wall.”

The circle of aging faces looked mildly interested.

“To provide a space we could heat. And hide the new loo.”

They sighed. The cold and the need for a loo were indubitably connected. But there was a stirring, an uncrossing of ankles, and then:

“How high? This wall?”

Consternation. Obviously this had not been entirely thought out. The wall might go all the way to the lofty roof of the church, or it might not. If not, it would remain as cold as the rest of the building, and any screaming children would be as audible as ever.

“Maybe we should just try a partition. Folding.” The vestry secretary, as always, had the compromise ready. And Mrs Starling had already excused herself.

Downstairs, a loo flushed.

This is a tad long. Forgive my incontinence….