I don't think that I'm going to have much to talk to you about this week. My brain's still a bit fried, to be honest, from all the long days and bright nights and the consequent insomnia, so things might get a little "patchy" for a while, especially as my "focus" (such as it is) has been otherwhere lately...
Last week, for example, I got a Tweet from someone who has a lot more faith in my abilities than I do (and bless you for that...), suggesting that I enter another of those short story competitions that occasionally run in TwitWorld where writers and other idiots attempt to tell a complete story in 140 characters or less if you deduct the competition's own hashtag.
"I think you'd be good at this..." Ah, a momentary beam of starlight in my otherwise unimpressive existence...
Still, because one or two of you are still lucky enough to not have been dragged into Twitworld, you probably won't have seen any of my own crude attempts at literature which I word-wrangled for that, so I thought I'd share my entries with you here, ("you lacky, lacky peeple...") appearing, quite naturally, in the reverse order of their creation... because, yep, I did seven of the bloody things (well, there are, supposed to be only seven stories that can be told...), as, once again, my enthusiasm outstripped my reason...
Over the years, the old oak tree thought it had seen it all, but even it was taken by surprise when the axe finally fell.
+LESTRADE+STOP+
+BODY+IN+LOCKED+ROOM+KILLED+BY+ICICLE+IN+THERMOS+STOP+
+AFFECTIONATELY+YOURS+STOP+SHERLOCK+E.O.M.+
Pick a minority group. Tell people they are their enemy. Light the blue touchpaper. Retire to a safe distance. Watch the world burn.
Tragically, it was only when I found out that I was dying, that I began to discover anything about really living. Life sucks.
Born in a sewer, he lived & died in the dark, but, for one glorious moment, he was the most important man on Earth when he saved her
As they sifted the ruins of her home, the fact that the crib wasn’t there was a sign of hope, but their reunion took over 50 years.
Not a sure-fire winner amongst them, I'm sure, but it's nice to share. Do feel free to tell me what you think...
As they sifted the ruins of her home, the fact that the crib wasn’t there was a sign of hope, but their reunion took over 50 years.
ReplyDeleteWow, there's a whole book right there. Disaster, mystery, crime?, tradegy, love..........
:-)
Delete(But then, when reading novels, I often find myself wondering about the stories not being told...)
Tragically, it was only when I found out that I was dying, that I began to discover anything about really living. Life sucks.
ReplyDeleteAlmost Dashiell Hammett Matin. Just needs a reference to liquor.
Think I'm gonnna give up this writing malarkey.
You'll do fine as long as you remember to keep it brief and to the point, and end on a...
DeleteTalking of Hammett, one of my own personal favourites from my own hack-work was this:
Deletehttp://m-a-w-h.blogspot.co.uk/2010/11/big-noir.html
Perhaps I ought to return to it…???
I think yours were among the best I saw. That's my honest opinion. :)
ReplyDelete:-)
DeleteLuckily, such decisions are not down to us, though, eh...?
It seems Didsbury didn't have as much faith in my wordplay as you did...
DeleteAh well...
Twas ever thus...