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Monday 31 October 2011

The Chanting Hordes return for Hallowe'en


"It's All Hallow's Eve, Geoffrey, when the dead rise from the grave and walk the earth."
"Brilliant. When's it over?"
"Don't be negative. I think we should just go with the gloomy vibe, Geoffrey. Let's kill everyone."
"Right. How will we do that?"
"We'll dig a big huge pit, and put lots of sharp sticks in it, pointy end up. Then we'll lure them all in, to their deaths."
"We can't possibly do that. It's a terrible plan."
"Why?"
"Because I can't be arsed sharpening sticks for hours on end. Besides, Who's "them"? And how would we lure them in, precisely?"
"Put a plate of sausage rolls and a coconut sponge in the middle. They'd all run for that willy nilly and without so much as a by your leave. Result. To be honest I don't know who "they" are though. You've got a "point" there. Ha ha. Oh dear - what's that awful moaning, wailing, dragging sound?"
"I think we MIGHT be about to find out....the chanting, puffa jacket-wearing hordes are back (see previous posts)...and they're heading our way. You get sharpening and I'll start digging - we've not got a second to lose - HURRY!!!!"

Thursday 27 October 2011

New Flash Story just out on Shortbread Stories

My latest flash fiction piece, Set Meal for Two, has just gone live over on Shortbread Stories
It's about two nasty warring "thespians" out for a meal. You can, as usual, find it via that link or read it via the Shortbread widget on the right hand side of the blog.

Wednesday 26 October 2011

Sailing - a peom from Geoffrey

Sailing - a peom.

I want to voyage westwards
Into the setting sun
I want to live on apples
And mushrooms on a bun.

I want my boat to sail and sail
And never spring a leak
I want to sail forever
And never have to speak.

Friday 21 October 2011

Bloggered Off

I'm pretty busy writing other stuff, hence the lack of blog posts this week. Here's some of the stuff I'm working on at the moment.
Psychotweeter part three (part two is in the editing queue over on Shortbread Stories)
A short story which I hope to get done in time for a competition deadline.
A flash fiction piece which I hope to submit "somewhere".
And my Kindle. Hope to get my finger out and get that organised "soon". I must say the technology aspects are putting me off a lot, but I've had some excellent advice from others who've Kindled, and I'm sure I can manage it if I really knuckle down.
Therefore, I don't have much time to blog at the moment.

However, if anyone wishes to contact me to discuss using my finely-honed writing and blogging skills, fine. I'm delighted to consider anything, pretty much. Especially if I'm going to be paid. And if you aren't in a position to pay, then at least have the decency to be extremely grateful, don't take me for granted, and treat me with respect and appreciation. Oh and have plenty biscuits - the good kind. Otherwise, there is absolutely no way I'll want to be involved.
I will consider doing stuff for nothing, if it interests me sufficiently, but I'm well past the stage in life where I'm prepared to be a virtual "intern." It's just not worth it.

The Story of the Old, Empty Barn



It's not "we're all doomed!" but it's good.

Thursday 13 October 2011

Ego? forget it.


I'm interested in tidal patterns - neap, high springs, syzygy and so forth, and was doing a search. "Tides are the rise and fall of sea levels, caused by the combined effects of the gravitational forces exerted by the Moon and the Sun, and the rotation of the Earth." (from wikipedia)
Oh - syzygy. Yes. Quite. Well, it will take your mind off the price of gas, mince, biscuits, apples - everything, really. For a while.
What price your tiny little ego? I mean, not just yours, mine as well...

Is Everything an Illusion, and do we have souls?

"Are we safe?"
"No, of course not. Nobody's ever safe. You know that as well as I do. The membrane between life and Death is as fine as the caul on a new-born babe."
"Here we are, sitting comfortably by the fire, just had our supper, everything secure..."
"That's all by the by. Security is an illusion. The material world, as we perceive it, is an illusion. We - and I use the term merely because I can't think of another at the moment - are a collection - a confluence -of energy particles in a condition of flux. In fact, the only permanence, the only security, is flux."
"Is everything random then? Or is there an overall pattern? Look at that piece of driftwood for example. You can see how it's been shaped by its journey through the world. Where did it come from? We can only wonder. It was part of a tree, obviously. But was it part of the trunk, or a branch that fell off during a storm? Was it uprooted by a landslide, swept down to an estuary by a flooded river, and borne far out to sea on a Spring tide?"
"And then washed ashore and left high and dry by the ebb, ready for us to gather for our fire."
"Is that random? is it coincidence, or was it meant to be? And it's riddled with termite holes. It supported life, even in Death - like the story of the lion in the Bible."
"It's still supporting life. It's keeping us warm."
"I don't want to burn it now! I've grown fond of it now that I know it better. It seems like more than just a piece of wood. It's got a soul. I don't want to see it burning up and turning into ashes before my very eyes."
"Happens to us all Geoffrey. Might as well bite the bullet and face it."
"Do you think trees have souls Tuppy? Do WE have souls, come to that?"
"Trees probably do have them. You've probably got one. If not your own one, then somebody else's. I've not got one - I swapped mine a while back, for some decent sausages, remember? I did a deal with Death. I was starving. Well, peckish."
"Do you regret it now, even just a little bit?"
"No, can't say I do Geoffrey. I didn't know I had it in the first place."