Saturday, 21 June 2014

Happy National Flash Fiction Day ~ Old Norse

'She taught me languages by calling into the air in German, Swedish, Norwegian, rolling her northern dialect off her tongue effortlessly. She told me once that her eyes were from her Viking heritage, a lush green with hints of copper and silver, rimmed with a band of rich hazel. I believed every word she said.

Her mother was Russian, a willowy woman with smooth pale hands. She spoke with a lisp and absently stroked the side of her face when she was nervous, and had a laugh that sounded like a prayer, hollow and darkly warm. Her father was Swedish. He told me he had been born with brine in his veins, told me stories of ice across lakes as far as the eye could see, and the time death missed his hand when he was a foolish light-eyed lad of thirteen. He sailed for a living and his arms were solid and heavy. His hair was cropped short, a dancing play of light between red and wet sand, eyelashes so fair they could be dusted with ice crystals, as if he had walked out of a fairytale wood and never looked back.

I couldn’t see where she went that day, when we walked along the beach in March. She was throwing Old Norse at the sea and it roared back at her. The look on her face was one of intense listening. I laughed. She blushed and said that the waves were asking if I would go looking for her. I felt the words slip from my tongue and lay heavy, unanswered, ‘Why, where are you going?’

If only I had not fallen asleep on the sand. I awoke, my head full of pain and sand crystals on my face. She had gone. Maybe walked out to sea to try and catch a wandering star. She never really belonged to this world, living like a fae with beliefs in magic and things unseen. The last words from this child of other lands was

‘Would I go looking for her?’

I willed the strength to search. I was trying to find a whisper, a myth, my friend. I searched for her footprints but only my own marked this sparse landscape. The beach sighed with me as I listened for the things on the wind that she told me once were there; words and curses, prayers and songs, thrown away as carelessly as they had been created, and that still lived in the layers of the air. I heard a Celtic song sung to a child, an argument between lovers and the heated devotion, all on one gust of wind that blew hair across my eyes.

‘Not just fair, but a beauty. Standing closer than you think. Where the sky and sea meet in a bright light. On a land without sin.’

It was spoken in a rush. I turned, tried to hold onto it, but then it was gone over the grasses, joyous in its escape.'

Happy National Flash Fiction Day! Can you believe its been a year already? Last year I posted Blackbird for my contribution to NFFD and also my piece 'A Collection' was included in Flash Flood 2013 - A whole day of flash fiction in celebration. I am really pleased to say that I have been included in Flash Flood again this year with my piece 'Drawings', it was posted at a minute past midnight - I got the honour of starting the flood :)

I can't believe that 'Old Norse' hasn't been on this blog yet, it feels like this flash fiction has been everywhere else lol. I did post the beginning parts of it way back in 2012 called 'Trees' but it has grown, been expanded on and had a change of name since then. I loved writing this, I love different cultures, myths and languages. 'Old Norse' was a pleasure to write and I just ran away with myself. It has of course been on Morgens Flash Fiction Fridays - where a lot of my flash fictions find loving homes :)

I am writing this now on my new computer! hurray! It's a notebook, it's very small, fast and light years ahead of the old computer. It really made me realise how old and tired the other one was, it was five years old which is about ninety in tech years lol

I hope you all have a wonderful National Flash Fiction Day and a happy Solstice.

Friday, 13 June 2014

Automatic Writing #12

'We have flecks of gold that run in our streams and we find them on the beaches and cherish them as sand. Hidden beneath the stones and rocks that litter the shore are things we buried to keep the sea at bay, to find a loved one, something to unlock the things lost at sea.
We are a people fed on myths, our own myths and all our history that comes before us. We know of knights and dragons before we learn to walk, we know that true warriors know when it is their day to die so paint their bodies with the colours of the earth and walk knowing that it's not a sin to leave this green plain that is home when death welcomes us.

We draw the symbols that have been braided into our souls by generations who knew of nothing during the long winters but watching the stars. Our own soils hold dear to them a layer of blood for every hundred mortal years, scattered with pennies from fallen royal idols. We have in our veins the rains that fall, the clouds that shroud all our mountains and held in our hands are the summers of a golden childhood and those days that separated us from the heavens. We are and always will be made to walk these hills, barefoot on an island, built on songs, brine and legend.'

Some more automatic writing was long over due - The last time I shared some was back in February! So here is the 12th installment, it has a patriotic vibe to it, a slight Arthurian legend feel and I hope you enjoy it :) 

As I've said before automatic writing is an amazing writing tool, this particular one is included in a flash fiction - I turned a part of it into a verse of a song. It's good inspiration and can be used in a number of writing projects.

Some wonderful news this week - I have the pleasure of being a part of Vine Leaves Literary Journal again with my poem 'If Only' to be included in issue 11 (due out 18th July) - I'm so thrilled to be accepted again, I'll let you know when it's available :)

There is nothing much else to say at the moment, life is ticking along quite nicely. The new house is starting to get sorted (I am amazed how long it takes to get it all done) I have a few writing projects bubbling away and a few things in the pipeline that I don't want to say too much about right at this moment, you'll just have to watch this space and be content with this photo of Tomas (or as my Mum calls him - Mr T!) claiming our bed as his own! lol 

Have a wonderful weekend :)

Sunday, 1 June 2014

New Writing of the Month for June ~ Poppies in the Snow

'If only she wasn't the only one who could see the rip in the sky, if only others could see and wonder at it as she had for such a long time. It appeared suddenly on a morning heavy with ice and snow, she had been creating shapes on the glass from her breath when in the corner of the garden a small rip appeared in the skyline. It was so close to the ground that it parted the snow as it ripped and a small ruby red poppy fell through the gap bringing with it enough warm sunlight to melt a puddle into the harsh overnight snow. 

Of course no one could see it or feel it and passed it off as a fairytale so this became her lifelong secret. The days turned to weeks and still the rip was there, never witnessed or talked about by anyone else - she started to doubt herself and took to drawing the fraying rip in the sky every week documenting its change. 

As that hard winter turned to a wet but vibrant spring the small poppy withered away to be replaced by a scattering of rusted leaves that fell through with a persistent rain. It was then she realised that beyond the tear this world lived in the opposite season and that even night was day - she could sit and watch the full moon rise by the light of a breaking dawn. When she ran through the garden in summer disturbing the dandelion seeds, they would float softly on warm currents and mingle with the delicate snowflakes blown across from the ever growing rip. 

It grew higher and wider as she grew up ,until as a grown woman, she could stand in front of it watching the winds from both worlds pull and warp the sides tearing it further. It grew to resemble the shape of a lock and it was only a matter of time before she saw another looking back at her.'

Hello everyone, I have decided to change 'New Poem of the Month' to 'New Writing of the Month' - it's only a small change but it gives me more freedom to post anything new that I am writing. I don't write many poems nowadays, I still love poetry but I write so much more now (there used to be a time that I only wrote poetry) So now you can read a bit of everything on the first of the month :) 

I hope you enjoy 'Poppies in the Snow' - this flash fiction is as new as you can get, I only wrote it on Friday! I wrote it for 'Wednesday's Weekly Write', inspired by the picture prompt above on Poetry, Music, Photography and More another great writing community on Google+. It's great to get creative again and I always worked well with picture or quote writing prompts on

My flash fiction 'Drawings' was on the lovely Morgen Bailey's Podcast (episode 40) on 25th May along with some other very talented writers. 

It's a gorgeous day here in Yorkshire so I'm going to get into the garden before it rains again! lol I'm feeling really positive about life, everything seems to be rosy (fingers crossed)

Have a wonderful Sunday :)