Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Happy Christmas!


"I have always thought of Christmastime, when it has come round...as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.” 

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens






Happy Christmas to all my readers!

I am stealing the words of Charles Dickens today to wish you all a wonderful Christmas. I wanted to write something festive of my own but it was not to be, since my last blog post I haven't written a single word because I've been so unwell! It started with a sore throat that lead to tonsillitis - I've had tonsillitis before so knew what to expect but this was something else!

At first I didn't get antibiotics but I had to go back because I was in so much pain I couldn't sleep. The last week has been a blur of sleep and a counting of hours till I can take my next tablets. I also developed a hacking cough and conjunctivitis, the cherry on the cake was when I burst a blood vessel in my eye from coughing! A lot of swear words have been said this week lol.  Anyway I'm on the mend now, my antibiotics finish tomorrow :) 

I love 'A Christmas Carol' - it's one of my favourite things to watch every year. My favourite quote is one Scrooge says to the ghost of Jacob Marley -

“You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!” 


I hope you all have a lovely festive period whatever you're doing and however you celebrate it :) I'll see you in the New Year with 'New Writing of the Month for January' 








Thursday, 11 December 2014

December



www.thereallygoodlife.com

In a vision I have white skin of cardboard
ridged and man-made, 
lacking in touch.  

A deep December cold is moving, stalking  
up my hollowed back misting around my shoulders,  
closing in to my whitewashed neck,  
forming glittering ice upon my pallid lips. 

My words slip from frozen sentences.  

I can witness only a blue room  
in which I stand rooted into the earth with soil between my toes  
running ice crystals along my skin,  
tracing my veins my slowing pulse,
to find my outstretched hands, 
to form frozen prayers at my fingertips.  

In a vision 
this is my natural state 
as I hold my breath  
and wait, 
unmoving, 
preparing to shatter.






Hi everyone

'December' is from my collection 'Silver Threads' and I thought I'd share it today - I don't think I could have shared it any other month with a name like December lol I've also changed the spacing from the original version in 'Silver Threads'.

It's a bit complicated explaining the inspiration behind this poem, I think it's obvious it doesn't come from a good place and as usual with my writing it's a mixture of emotions and nature/seasons. Anyway I like it, I love the imagery and atmosphere in it.

My flash fiction 'Poppies in the Snow' was on Morgen Bailey's Flash Fiction Fridays on 6th December, as always it's lovely to be on her blog again :) 

I'll be back closer to Christmas with something festive (hopefully) if not I'll just post a short 'Merry Christmas' to you all. Our tree is up now and looking beautiful, my cat Tomas doesn't seem interested in scaling it (fingers crossed that lasts lol) I'm looking forward to a lovely Christmas with my family - the first in our new home. 



Happy Thursday 







Monday, 1 December 2014

New Writing of the Month for December ~ Seed Pearls and Secrets

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'We had a lot of secrets. Each one like a seed pearl that formed a chain held together with gossamer threads and they wove around our necks and wrists, our midriffs and bare ankles until we were made of pearls, made from small perfectly formed secrets and no one could know our true form.

He said to me in an urgent whisper;

‘Who are you to think you are a child of the stars?  We belong on the fast flowing river bed, we belong where the silt shifts and moves under our feet and we are the ones that make beauty from nothing’

So we crouched among those shifting sands and watched the moon rise and fall through red rimmed eyes and a glassy watery home. The light that fell from either sun or moon was spilt upon the surface and never cast upon my face. The rivers moved faster, the current deeper, the murky bed of river ever further away from the light, ever further towards the core of the earth and we sat in silence for a hundred years and a day.

My eyelashes had become white, my skin had grown old.  I was a woman made of aging paper but my mind was still sharp and my strength had never failed me. I broke those seed pearls one by one scattering their luminescent beauty out to the deep currents. Liberating myself from a silent life, sowing secrets onto my ever growing gown of gossamer threads and river pearls, I headed for the light thinking only of breaking the surface.'




Hello everyone

Ok I confess that this isn't 'New' I wrote it a while ago but it is new as in it hasn't been seen before, not on this blog or any where else online - I thought it deserved its debut. 

All my writing has a magical ethereal quality. I enjoy writing about myths, legends and things that can't be explained. 

This is why I've chosen the name 'Alchemy' for a collection of my work that I'm putting together. It's a collection of poetry, prose and flash fiction. You don't realise how much work you've actually got until you put a collection together! lol It all came out of the woodwork - writing that I had completely forgotten about. It was lovely to read it all again, I'm in the process of choosing all the pieces I want in and doing a bit of editing. 



In other news it's the first of December and 'The Best of Vine Leaves Literary Journal 2014' is out today! We have our copy already (my Mum bought it and I have to share lol) It's a gorgeous book - really well put together with such talented writers and photographers. You can buy it on Amazon and also direct from Vine Leaves Literary Journal

My flash fiction 'Poppies in the Snow' will be on Morgen Bailey's Flash Fiction Fridays this Friday 5th - I'll post this on Twitter on the day and on the next blog post.




Have a wonderful Monday :)









Sunday, 16 November 2014

Old Perfume



My angel wears old shoes with thin laces that she ties loosely and a long skirt patched with multi-coloured fabric, rich in cotton.  She has long curly hair and a hidden face. Draped in scarves and long sleeves she is unashamedly and proudly gypsy as songs linger around her like old perfume. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed she watched me play games of reality and dreams; like a game of chess I dabbled in visions of black and white messages and spoke to the ghosts that still longed to be heard. 

I decided she was real and watched her fasten her shoes, all the while fading in and out of life. I waved at her and as she waved back she swore to me this was not my last day.






Hello lovely readers!

I hope you enjoy 'Old Perfume' it's a new prose piece that I 'found' last night, I'd written it back in August and came across it again and gave it a polish. 

I wrote this thinking about my experience with meningitis in 2002. I was really ill and kept seeing people sitting on the empty beds around the HD unit. I saw a woman sitting next to me, tying her shoes and she waved to me. I still have no idea if I was dreaming or not. Also throughout my illness, even though it was 50/50 if I'd survive or not, I just knew I wasn't going to die - I felt like someone or something wouldn't let me think of the worse case scenario because it wasn't going to happen. Anyway it all turned out ok as here I am today talking nonsense lol

In other news 'The Best of Vine Leaves Literary Journal 2014' is now listed on Goodreads so go add it to your 'want to read' list if you're a member :) Also my flash fiction 'A Season of Half-Light' was on Morgen Bailey's Flash Fiction Fridays on the 7th November and I had some wonderful comments that really made my day. 



Have a lovely Sunday :)





Saturday, 1 November 2014

New Writing of the Month for November ~ Whispers

lovinglifeonearth.wordpress.com

You will cross my palm with silver she whispered to me.
It fell through her fingers
and lay as pools of bronze and gold.
Her eyes a honeyed amber like those of a stalking vixen. 

As I gazed on her face the tips of her hair grew a startling white
and she told me of a distant future that
I could almost taste. 
It lingered on my tongue and lost itself in my drifting thoughts.

Do not trust all that you can see … 

Do not dismiss all that you cannot.







Well first things first Carl has a lot of leftover Halloween sweets! We only had three trick-or-treaters so he has a lot left to eat - I'm sure he will enjoy every minute of stuffing his face lol 

'Whispers' was written for a picture prompt (not the above picture) on Google+ and I thought the red and Autumn-y vibes would be perfect for November, though it definitely doesn't feel like the beginning of November here in Yorkshire today because it's really warm.

It was a wonderful feeling being on Word Bohemia with 'The Storm' last night, I received some lovely compliments from the editor which made my day! 

Also I am very happy to be back on Morgen Bailey's Flash Fiction Fridays again! :) My flash fiction 'A Season of Half-Light' will be on 7th November and 'Poppies in the Snow' 5th December - I will share the links on Twitter on the day and on the next blog post. 



Have a fantastic weekend 





Friday, 31 October 2014

Happy Halloween ~ The Darkest Hour


'It was just past the darkest hour of the night. Even the moon in her thin sickle form was wearing a shadowy veil of cloud that flickered in and out of the gaps in the curtain briefly illuminating the sudden imprints of a body on my quilt. I could make out feet bigger then a mans, more animal like than human and it shifted its weight from foot to foot deepening the imprints. Darkening the white sheets like a burn mark in an otherwise perfect landscape.

I was cold and lifeless, all the strength having fled my body as the being made its presence known. I was lying on my back, my arms heavy at my sides feeling like they were made of chipped and aging marble. My head was looking to the side, my hair over one eye and being unable to brush it away I watched it quiver with each racing heartbeat.

I was engulfed within the smells of charcoal, ashes and dirt, my tongue became heavy and metallic as if encased in gold. It moved from just watching my suffering to climb on my chest, its heavy, dark weight upon my ribs. I could hear and feel my breathing labour, it was slowing, quieting, leaving me just a whisper of breath to sustain me.

Was this death?

It was growling its hated for my life, feeling my heart beating underneath its feet. I kept slipping from the world walking to and from dreamland. Thinking of my mother, her tired face as she met God - had I disappointed her? I witnessed the coming dawn so far away waking others from their own nightmares. Feeling the tears and tasting the salt of my own fear I could smell the overpowering aroma of a thousand roses, it was my mother’s name, my mother’s flower. I heard her enter the room. The smell was now mixing in the air with the stench of burning hair I could hear the growing crackling, I wanted to gag the smell coated my senses choking me.

I embraced the darkest hour and its dark blue textures and fell through the bed, the floor, still motionless and without feeling - having never awoken from my own nightmare that the coming dawn had done for so many others before me.'




Well this is a bit different isn't it? lol I enjoy writing dark pieces when I'm in the mood and I thought I'd save this one for Halloween. I wrote this for a prompt for an online magazine, I don't know why but I took it along a darker route - I suppose it's just what came to me. It might be the reason it wasn't accepted though lol Oh well I get to share it today with you all when all dark and creepy writing is encouraged :)

You really can get inspiration from anywhere! This was inspired by sleep paralysis ...

From Wikipedia - 

Sleep Paralysis is a phenomenon in which a person, either falling asleep or awakening, temporarily experiences an inability to move, speak or react. It is a transitional state between wakefulness and sleep characterized by complete muscle atonia (muscle weakness). It is often accompanied by terrifying hallucinations (such as an intruder in the room) to which one is unable to react due to paralysis, and physical experiences (such as strong current running through the upper body). 

The wonderful painting is by Henry Fuseli called 'The Nightmare' 


I am thrilled and ecstatic to be included in 'The Best of Vines Leaves Literary Journal 2014'! With both prose and poetry, my poem 'If Only' and prose piece 'India' (these are the only two pieces that have been accepted in Vine Leaves - I can't help feeling very proud and smug about this! lol) 

It's available to buy 1st December but you can pre-order it here 

Also I am happy to say I will have my flash fiction 'The Storm' in Word Bohemia  at 6:27 GMT today - I will share the link on Twitter and in tomorrows post.





I hope you all have a chilling Halloween - Carl my husband is dressed up with a cauldron of sweets waiting for the trick or treat-ers, hopeful some kids will turn up or he will be eating them all himself lol I'll let you all know tomorrow (New Writing for November) if he has stomach ache or not :) 





Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Darkness


Once upon a barren night 
when the starless sky was as black as black had always been 
and the sea was restless, forever listless 

the trees breathed within the dark 
their branches stretching and twisting, 
growing and snapping 
searching for the amber moon, always elusive. 

Their wooden roots dug deeper 
into the black, within the earth's suffocation 
curling and feeling, blind. 

This was all too silent and slow to be seen, 
believed. 

Life is created in the dark.





The nights are drawing in - it's getting darker! 

I thought I'd share 'Darkness' today, it's from 'Silver Threads' and hasn't had much exposure so I thought it deserved it's moment in the sun ... so to speak lol :)

You can read the whole collection of Silver Threads on Google Drive now, there are quite a few poems in there that I've not shared on here, I think I should feature some others. 

Yesterday I was looking through a collection of poetry from when I was a member of All Poetry, I was looking for something a bit dark and scary for Halloween and I came across a poem I wrote for a Halloween competition on the website about a female serial killer!! lol I was a bit out of my comfort zone writing it but it's very graphic! I remember thinking at the time that I didn't know whether to be proud or horrified of my dark side... 


'Not once did he awake,
as she swung, with blood lust driving weakened muscles.
Now he would never wake again,
Polished wood connected with greasy skin,
with a hollow sickening thud.
Crushing sinew and bone,
rupturing veins in a hot scarlet spray.' 



That's a snippet from it... don't say I didn't warn you! lol

I'll see you all at Halloween - I'm sure it won't be too hard to find something dark :)



Have a wonderful Wednesday 










Wednesday, 1 October 2014

New Writing of the Month for October ~ A Season of Half-Light


'I once met a man who was breathing in autumn colours, a spirit of this season and saturated in its stories, myths and magic. His hair was as black as an encroaching starless night, his eyes an icy light blue and he spoke with the warm whiskey lilt of the Irish.

He was only seen during the autumn days and no-one knew where he went for the rest of the year. We listened closely to every word he said as he was a once in a year treat. Singing songs with his guitar knee high in rusted leaves, his voice resounding deeply off the surrounding trees, ice travelled along the strings matching the notes he chose. 


Enchanting songs of love and loss, of war and its pointlessness, of legends of his home - purity at their core. When he wasn't singing of days and faces only he could name he sat and wrote his lyrics on any paper he could find, half-hearted or careless he gave them away or they slipped through his fingers as he chased the turning leaves, following those golds, reds and velvet browns. Fading away like autumn mists when the trees gave nothing to the skyline but darkened, bare branches. I gathered them up like precious memories, saving as many as I could find -

...'The coldness is reaching out to claim its own again ... working its way up every tree where wickedness is made and broken underneath ... but my spirit and I walk afraid through this season of half-light'...


Small fragments of a man we all believed was a beautiful ghost. I didn't know if my collection of lyrics would witness the first snowfall or turn to mist themselves like their unknowable creator.'




Hello everyone, can you feel Autumn 'claiming its own again'? 

I'm extremely pleased with this flash fiction. I think I have gotten myself out of a bit of a writing rut - I'm really thankful for a bit of inspiration. 

I think you can tell from this piece and others in the past how much I love Autumn, it's definitely my favourite season - there is something very magical about it :)

I am thrilled to be in Paper Swans - Issue 4 - which came out today with my flash fictions 'Old Norse', 'Eden' and 'Blackbird', along with some other wonderful writers too. 

Also tomorrow is National Poetry Day on the theme of 'Remember' and poets out there can join in on Twitter @PoetryDayUK - I'll see what I can contribute as well either on here or on my Twitter @JadeJo_Ann



Happy Wednesday :)







Monday, 15 September 2014

Renaissance



'I am the darkness before my birth, a brown velvet space. Only the echoes of the past slowly turn around me, I am a homeless soul flowing far away from the shore.
A nothingness of wonder and stars… and the landscape is shifting, the voices and stories of those travelling the other way are the last things I hear before the rhythmic beating of my mother’s heart.

I quietly awaken and listen to her conversations. I even breathe and walk in her dreams with her. She feels my presence and I know hers, I touch the soft walls that are her, that are the limits of my world and feel her softly press her fingers back in response.'









'Tis the Ides of September already! lol

Hello again lovely readers, I thought I'd share this new prose poem with you all. This is actually from a longer piece of writing where I wanted to explore and write about before birth, birth and life, death and even beyond, I didn't quite finish it and this was a favourite part of mine so I decided to keep it as a prose poem. 

I love the emotions in this piece and even though I've not had children I can imagine what it is like to experience a life growing inside you and also the feelings a child has towards its mother. I'm sure on some level I must remember my own experiences in the womb, my Mum predicted that she would 'have a girl this time next year and I'm going to call her Jade' - this was in February 1984 and a year later that was exactly what happened. She even spoke to me by name the moment she knew she was pregnant :) As you can guess me and my Mum have a very close bond.

There is nothing to report about my writing at the moment everything is still fairly quiet, but I am desperately looking for some inspiration to get some writing done! I have some ideas mulling and need to get them down onto paper ... or the computer.




Happy Monday :)







Tuesday, 2 September 2014

A Very Late New Writing of the Month for September ~ Lucy


An angel walks beside me with bare feet

Braided hair, eyes changing in melody

dark green.
When she speaks her words come concealed in breath of an ocean blue

We walked until the sky fell.


The flowers gave up their colour

in a swirl of metallic pollen...
and someone 
was in the sky
turning the stars into diamonds.

We were standing at the beginning of time.








It's 2nd of September I know, I know! It wasn't until 11pm last night that I realised what day it was - please forgive me lol 

Anyway I hope you enjoy the offering for this month. Inspired by a prompt on Google+ and I hope you can all tell which 'Beatles' song I was thinking of when I wrote it ... if not, here it is :)




So I managed to complete my mad week of writing and wrote something everyday. To be precise that's 1422 words (I know this is nothing to novel writers, but hey I'm a fickle poet at heart) this includes four new poems, a prose piece and quite a lot of automatic writing. I'm proud of myself and I think it was a very productive week but I stand by my original thought that writing everyday is not for me  One of the last things I wrote sums up my feelings quite well I think ...

'it’s like trying to create a tapestry with thin single threads and never waiting for it to grow in beauty and length'

There needs to be more said for thinking writing over before committing pen to paper or fingers to the keyboard in my case.



Have a wonderful Tuesday :)








Sunday, 24 August 2014

Automatic Writing #13


'It’s all changed again - from darkness to light, from sorrow to harmony and back again. Moods and phases, fleeting, transient and shifting masks, faces and fingers, bones snapping honed and wise. 

Waiting and questioning my wisdom and words, my blues and whites that fall from the nearest falling stars. Changed and warped, change is brewing gathering in the winds. Though they may appear still and silent lacking in lustre and intellect, it is written on every leaf, every small feather that crosses our paths.

And you cannot be told to find interest in others. Your own hands and face are far more vivid, living in the now knowing your own skin and every knoll like a tree like a landscape - like a pattern in fast flowing water. Visions and magic swirling together and carried away before we have a chance to grasp - before we even know.'



It's well past time that I shared some more automatic writing - the last time was back in June! I wrote this in November last year and thought it was too nice and intriguing not to share so I hope you enjoy it :) 

I don't have any writing news to report, it's all very quiet out there - I've noticed this happens most Augusts, I wonder if it's a school holidays' thing?

Anyway I am planning a productive week (starting with this blog post lol). I am going to take the age old writers' advice and write something everyday, writing as much as I can in a week and see where it takes me! I don't usually write this way and always thought I'd just write rubbish if I had to write 'something' everyday, but we will see. One reason for this is that I haven't been writing much this summer and want to get out of that rut and the other is that Carl has gone to Ripon in North Yorkshire for a whole week with his job so besides time with Mum after she's been to work I'll have plenty of alone time when she is in bed (I am a definite night owl) lol I am really gonna miss him though, I think another reason is to distract myself :( 

I'll let you all know how my week of writing madness goes on 1st September for New Writing of the Month. 



Hope you all have a wonderful Bank Holiday weekend. 








Sunday, 10 August 2014

A Change of Name and Some Micro Poetry


Hello everyone, what a change this will be!

From today the URL of this blog will be jadekennedywriter.blogspot.co.uk instead of jadekennedypoet and the name has changed to 'Borrowed Expressions' -  I've had a long think about this and the blog is more than just poetry now. Back when I started the blog in April 2012 all I wrote was poetry, even though I will always be a poet at heart I've now branched out into writing prose, flash fiction and even play writing. (Me and my Mum's play 'Dragonflies in Amber' is now available to read on GoogleDrive, there is a link at the top as well.)

So I've decided to give it a more creative and abstract name :) 





Also the name 'Borrowed Expressions' is from a prose piece I wrote called 'A Collection' 

'She was one for collecting. She collected anything with a face; dolls, teddies, cards with wide smiles, reflections, drawings and sketches. She even had a chest full of memories, of faces from other people's loved ones all sewn onto a cloth of yellow, fraying at the edges.

 ....  I couldn't help being fascinated by her - she was my greatest friend and I loved her
just as she was, with or without those borrowed expressions.'


I hope you all like the new name, it also ties in with my Twitter bio and my writer bio that I give out with submissions - they both have 'A collector of borrowed expressions' 

Also I hope you enjoy the micro poetry - I've been experimenting with a new photo editor program, both the writing and the pictures are mine :D The pics are from my trip to Scarborough - Yorkshire is a gorgeous place!




Have a wonderful Sunday and a stormy one if you live in Yorkshire lol :)





Friday, 1 August 2014

New Writing of the Month for August ~ Over the Edge



'My first memory of the coastline was overwhelming.  I had been confronted by a vast blue, a nothingness of water stretching out towards an indigo line that shimmered with the summer heat. Those first smells were of salt, warmth, cotton, excitement. The sand crystals moved between my toes, a new and profound experience for me. I remember it was on that day that I first heard the myth that would stay with me till my last breath.

My brother had brought me here. He was an elegant swimmer and came to sit beside me afterwards, the salt drying to pure white chips in his hair. He gave me a shell and told me to listen carefully to the sounds it made when I held it to my ear. It held within it a roaring, the sounds of a whispering anger, a crashing and churning. I looked at him as if he had woven magic around me - how had he contained the sea in a shell?

He told me that this was the sound of the seas as they ran off the earth, that the world was flat and every horizon was an ending, and that the seas lost their grip on the solid ocean floor flowing away as a endless waterfall. He couldn’t tell me where the water went or how far away the end of the world was even though I was eager to know. I conjured up images of the water cascading into the waiting arms of God and that they came back to us as rain, that the mist and steam that came from waterfalls created an everlasting rainbow somewhere out on the waves. I imaged what could be the last view of the world before taking that leap of faith, would it be like falling into the sky or into a deep carving in the earth?

What happened to life in the sea that strayed too close? What became of the sea floor, the corals and rotting wooden beams of the shipwrecks - did they also fall away? My brother couldn’t answer these questions but looked wistfully at me and made a promise that when we were both older and wiser we would buy a boat and go out as far as we dare to look out over the edge, maybe we would be the very first to see the face of God.'




Hi everyone, it's another new month and another flash fiction.

I hope you enjoy 'Over the Edge', I love any myths, legends or old beliefs - I'm starting to write quite a few flash fictions based around them. I entered this into a competition but it didn't place so I've shared it on here :) It also has a summer theme that I though was perfect for the start of August. 

I have had my flash fiction pieces 'Poppies in the Snow' and 'Light Shadow' included in a wonderful iPamplet by Paper Swans (Issue 3), - there are some great flash fictions in here. I first found Paper Swans on Twitter and they are lovely people who are great supporters of writers of poetry and flash fiction. 


I'll leave you with a picture of Tomas who is not only my writing buddy but now my reading buddy - but I don't think his is fan of Philippa Gregory! lol



Have a wonderful Friday and weekend :)










Friday, 18 July 2014

Flash Fiction ~ Light Shadow


We are taught that we are blessed - too far away and all life would never have begun, the earth would have become as cold and lifeless as iron. Too close and our planet would have raged under clouds of toxins and withered under its own suffocating heat. We live perfectly, travelling through a green and vibrant celestial sea around our young sun.

We saw our fellow traveller early in the 1700’s through a modern telescope, a work of art sculpted out of bronze and glass by an avid Irish stargazer. Best seen at dusk, close to the setting sun it was named ‘Scáth Éadrom’ meaning ‘Light Shadow’, we were suddenly not alone in our tranquil green sea and this planet faced us, as our shadow from across the stars. Many poems and stories followed its discovery and its magic worked its way into our fairy tales and myths.

Some said the people living there where giants of fortune and abundance, they lived and breathed in silver and gold, every wish cast during a waxing moon upon Light Shadow was sure to be granted. In some tales this was a planet of red and deep madness, of a people that lived in caves with no eyes or mouths and knew nothing of their own or our existence and that wishes cast, could not been seen by blind eyes or that blindness itself would befall the hopeful.

As the years carried us forwards technology shone a curious light on ‘Light Shadow’ and it was discovered to be a fruitful Eden, green and lush like our own, with land and sea, a large atmosphere, even more curiosity was created by these discoveries. Scientists wrote book after book of theories, meanings and predictions, gave heated and grand debates. Technology could not evolve fast enough, we were falling over ourselves to find a way to finally speak over the void of space. When the time came to broadcast our voices to our long unknown neighbours it was greeted with uncontained joy and time consuming preparation. Our world was for once deathly silent as the greeting was carried into space, breath held, heartbeat quietened, children silenced, history was waiting. We received nothing more than white noise and a heartbreaking quiet.



Hello everyone :) 

I hope you enjoy 'Light Shadow', it's the only one of my flash fictions that has a slight sci-fi feel to it. It's been on Morgen Bailey's Flash Fiction Friday's before but not on my blog so it was about time I featured it. I enjoy sci-fi. it's something that Carl and me both like watching together. 

Issue 11 of Vine Leaves Literary Journal is now available to download and I have the honour of being in this issue with my poem 'If Only' on page 40 - there are always amazingly talented writers in Vine Leaves and I am thrilled to be in there with them :) 



It has been really hot in Yorkshire recently so there hasn't been much to do but write - too hot to do anything else (well that's my excuse for not cleaning lol). I did have a lovely day out the other day with Carl, we went to Scarborough and Whitby - if anyone knows Yorkshire you'll know how beautiful it is around there. The picture is of us in Scarborough, where we bought loads of rock :D








Have a wonderful weekend