Snow, Glorious Snow
The first day of spring brought snow moans from around the country. No milk and bread was the cry that went up from a thousand Co-ops. A few more days and folks would have started scavenging one another’s food compost bins and looting garden sheds, thus highlighting our total patheticness.
– But excellent fodder for a plot on how the country manages (or not) at these times.
And a wee continuation about the curse of being called Sharon:
Where Have all the Sharons Gone?
Fact – we are in our forties, possibly late forties, and now mothers to children with exotic names that will never be parodied in a BBC sitcom or considered trashy by those blessed with the normal names of Cathy or Lorraine.
Fact – no new Sharons are being born. We are a dying breed; the focus of a potential country and western song; an endangered species.
On a completely different and less maudlin note, my flash story, Porkin’ in Heaven, can be read here as one of the entries long listed on the Reflex Fiction website.
My flash story ‘Nos’ was posted 1/1/18 on the Reflex Fiction website. It didn’t make the longlist but they said they liked it enough to publish which was decent of them and a good way to start the new year. The other flash story I submitted has made it to their longlist and so begins the wait to see if it progresses. Reflex Fiction posts a flash every day and worth taking a gander at.
Came second in the current edition of Writers’ Forum, which was lovely. I don’t have a link to this story as it’s printed, but proof, should it be needed, is in this badly-lit photo:
On the resolution front – none made this year as the disappointment of not fulfilling them is just too great and damaging to a precious soul like myself. Even the one to stop procrastinating, social-surfing and gazing out of windows when I should be writing. No, especially that one.
Another Sharon Boyle. Who writes. Not me, but someone sharing the same (awful) name – let me tell you, it was character-building carrying round that moniker. I know she’s not me because she has published a book, ‘Survival in the Kitchen’. It’s about being efficient when cooking. I don’t write about survival or kitchens and I’m certainly not efficient when cooking unless you count quaffing the rest of the red wine when making Bolognese sauce. I wonder if she’s clocked me in the virtual world. I wonder if folks think we are one and the same. I wonder if this is a bone fide reason to change my (awful) name once and for all…
On another note, the short story writer Sharon Boyle has been shortlisted in the Earlyworks Press Short Story comp and will be published in their spring 2018 anthology, details here and has also just had two flash pieces published in their current anthology origami poems and towering stories
I was asked by Exeter Writers, after winning their short story prize last year, to complete a questionnaire. Me, a questionnaire? Sharing advice? The link is here and while I’d like you to appreciate the gorgeousness of my comments I’d also like you to ignore my typo in the very first answer – editing, it’s a curse. I absolutely did not finish two novels while in a drawer.
I was lucky to be reading at one of the many events the Scottish Book Trust put on last week – Bold Types: Scottish Women’s Creative Writing Showcase. The venue was the Women’s Library in Glasgow. There were five short stories and four poems shortlisted and it was a first for me to read my work in front of an audience, around 35 peeps, plus four judges. The couple of glasses of wine I quaffed at lunchtime certainly buffed off the worst of the nerves and even though I didn’t win I had a great time being in an encouraging atmosphere and it was lovely to meet other writers.
After winning the HISSAC (Highland and Islands Short Story Assoc) Short Story comp last year I thought to chance my luck again and my story has been Highly Commended. This means it’s in the top six and has been posted here– yes, I’ll take it!
I read the other stories too and felt honoured my story is among them. Fantastic quality. I thought Cuckoos and Shakespeare and Shit was an excellent story and a damn fine title.
On a separate note, I was on Halloween duty last night, opening the doors to guisers and laughing at half-baked jokes (hard work, I tell you), dishing out sweeties, trying to save said sweeties from the mouths of my own horror-children, but the best joke of the night award goes to – Why is number six always scared? Because seven ate nine. Appealed to me anyway.
Here’s me meeting Ian Rankin during a Burke and Hare historical tour in Edinburgh. He was interesting and down to earth and generous – he bought us all a drink!