WHEN I'M BIGGER - flash fiction for Friday Fictioneers

WHEN I’M BIGGER

Why does crying make your eyes all blurry?

I’m hungry, but when I asked Mummy for a biscuit she said I’d made her brush slip and she smacked me.

I don’t like it when she paints her models because it makes her busy and cross. She calls me a little pest and tells me to ask Daddy, but I don’t want to.

When I’m bigger I’m going to bite him – perhaps that will stop him hurting me.

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This week's photo prompt was taken by Jeff Arnold and it made me screw up my eyes trying to get it in focus, hence my story, which happened so fast that it only reached 80 words. I hope you agree that I was right to stop there? Please leave a comment and follow the link from Rochelle's blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  to read other stories.

It doesn't seem possible that it's November already, but my son and grandson's Trick-or-Treat call last night made it clear. I shall have to get a move on with my decorating if our new old cottage is to look its best by Christmas!

Helter-Skelter - how about buying yourself an early Christmas present? My latest novel is on Amazon in paperback or Kindle, (click on the cover at the top of my blog to find it) and would make a great fireside read. Or a beach book, if you're in another temperate zone!

MAYHEM - a story in ninety-five words.

MAYHEM

‘A beautiful soul’, they said, over and over, and her father agreed, forgetting the hours he had walked the streets searching, the money paid in bribes to save her from arrest, in fines when the bribes no longer worked, and the shame.

‘A dreadful loss’, they said, and her mother wept, regretting each bitter argument over stolen jewellery and housekeeping money, remembering only pudgy arms and baby kisses.

To carry her soul to heaven they launched floating candles, which set the forest alight – their daughter blazing a trail of mayhem even in death.

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A quick story this week again - the only piece of writing I've done in a flurry of painting walls, filling holes with Polyfilla, and a multitude of trips to the DIY shop. Yesterday I spent half an hour crouched beside the toilet. No, I had not over-indulged the night before - I was pushing filler into gaps behind pipes with my fingers because no tool would fit. The joys of moving house!

Thanks to Carla Bicomong for the photograph which is this week's Friday Fictioneers' prompt, and to Rochelle for organising us, despite her own crammed schedule, on https://rochellewisoff.com/
If you are on holiday, have a lovely time, and remember to pack a book. I have two on offer - Helter-Skelter, an historical novel which you can buy by clicking on the cover image on this page, and A Volcanic Race, a fantasy, also available on Amazon.

ECLIPSE - a story in 100 words

ECLIPSE

“Fetch another virgin now!” the Chief screamed, “The Sun is dying!”

The medicine man cowered. “But Chief – we’ve sacrificed all the virgins.”

“Get Daxo’s neice.”

“The gods will be insulted – she’s too ugly.”

“That’s why I’m sure nobody’s screwed her.”

The fire that burned Daxo’s neice had been his fault - she was still a virgin because no man saw past the scars. 
“Hide, Petl – they will sacrifice you,” he urged.

“They won’t if I’m not a virgin, Tio.”

“Who?” Daxo gasped.

“You, Tio – quickly!”

Despite himself, Daxo succumbed, and the medicine man arrived just as Daxo saved Petl - and the sun - the only way he could.

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This week's story is condensed from another I wrote last year, with apologies for my lack of  fresh inspiration. We have just been offered a Trust cottage and will be moving within a month - so much to do, so little time, but we're thrilled.

Meanwhile, a quick plug for my latest book HELTER-SKELTER - just the job for a holiday read so be sure to get your copy, paperback or ebook, before you pack your suitcase. Link to the Amazon page at the top of my blog.

THE SLAVE GIRL - a story in a hundred words

THE SLAVE

 “Who will buy this lovely young virgin?”

“I will,” Petrus said and the hammer fell.

His home was a humble pottery in Stabiae, but a fig-tree shaded the yard, the kitchen was cool, and when Yani gave birth to a son, Petrus freed her.

One day he announced, “I go to sell pots in Surrentum,” and Yani said, “I will come too.”

Petrus stared as she packed all their belongings into the cart. “Shall I bring my wheel?” he joked.

She glanced at the mountain and shivered, clutching her child. “You can buy another – now hurry!”

They were ten miles away when Vesuvius erupted.

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Stabiae was a small village overlooking the Bay of Naples which, like Pompeii, was buried under metres of volcanic ash when Mt Vesuvius erupted.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stabiae
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I took this photograph on our village green at Halloween a couple of years ago - this was our local supermarket's offering to the festivities. Thanks to Rochelle for using another of my photos - I shall enjoy reading what the rest of Friday Ficitoneers thought of it. If you are not a FF contributor, you can find us by following the blue frog link from https://rochellewisoff.com/ - after you've left a comment here, of course.

And - if you click on the book cover at the top of this page, that link will take you to the Amazon page where you can buy my new book HELTER-SKELTER, which is the story of Albie, a boy growing up in Kent, South-east England, between the wars - a completely different genre from my last book, A Volcanic Race. For those of you who bought AVR, I am still working on the sequel and hope to publish it in time for Christmas.

THE LAKE - a hundred word story for a hot day.

THE LAKE

That summer was a scorcher but the townsfolk were still shocked when Brandon appeared in shorts. 
His boss asked why he couldn’t at least get a leg that looked human, but Brandon said he was hot and they’d have to get used to it.

After work he walked round the lake, wishing he could grab a swim, but knew his stump would be too much.

Until Sadie got caught in the weeds, and he tore off his leg to dive in, then hopped ashore with her in his arms.

He swam every day after that, and at Christmas he married Sadie.

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The photo prompt this week was taken by J Hardy Carroll and posted on https://rochellewisoff.com/  If you follow the Blue Frog link from Rochelle's blog you can read other stories by Friday Fictioneers..

My Big News this week is that last Saturday - just inside my self-imposed deadline of June - my historical novel Helter-Skelter went live on Amazon. 

Publishing this book has been a dream for a long time. Some years ago an agent took it on but she couldn't find a publisher. Many of those she approached said I wrote well, but they didn't want an author who lived abroad and wouldn't be instantly available for publicity purposes!!
Well, now I'm back in England, the book has undergone a thorough edit, and here it is. If you click on the cover image the link will take you to the right page on Amazon.
For those of you who read A Volcanic Race and are waiting to read the sequel, be assured that I am working on that right now. I hope Wolf Pack will be out later this year.

THAT SONG - this week's one hundred word story

THAT  SONG

That song has made him millions over the years. Wonder what his fans would say if they knew I wrote it?

The summer of ’67, it was, when he was too spaced-out to sit up, let alone write a tune. He found it one day and played it, the band loved it, and it took off. Did he give me the credit? Not bloody likely!

He’s had four different wives since then, all young and thin.

The old goat didn’t even recognise me this morning, pushing the Hoover round the studio.

He’ll remember me tomorrow – I’ll make sure of that.

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Thanks as ever to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  and for taking the photo prompt this week. 

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And I have exciting news to share with you - my next book will be out on Amazon next week! 

Helter-Skelter is set in the first half of the 20th century, so it just qualifies as an historical novel, and is the story of Albie's search for his gypsy father after his mother abandons him at the tender age of twelve. 

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For those of you who read my first book, A Volcanic Race, and are eagerly anticipating the sequel, I have been working on Wolf Pack at the same time as completing Helter-Skelter. 

For those of you who didn't buy AVR because you 'don't read fantasy', perhaps I can change your minds?The book is definitely NOT sci-fi, and even people who only bought it out of friendship have enjoyed reading it!

GRANDMA'S BOOTS - a story in a hundred words

GRANDMA’S BOOTS

I loved Grandma’s cottage – after school I’d lie on her rag rug while she told the story of each scrap, eating buns hot from the chipped yellow stove. She made soup with vegetable peelings that Mum would have thrown away, never bought new clothes, and mended her own boots.

‘Embarrassing’ Mum called her, but she couldn’t stop me loving her.

Then one day there was no smoke drifting from her chimney, no smell of baking.

Mum bought a frock to bury her in and burned her old clothes, saying they weren’t fit for the jumble.

I hid her boots in my wardrobe.

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  and to Courtney Wright for the atmospheric photograph. The stones on which the boots sit reminded me of the cottage my daughter and her husband are renovating in Northern Ireland - they will know exactly where I saw Grandma's stove!

Like many of you I have been busy writing, working on Wolf Pack, the second in my Living Rock series, and also preparing to publish another book in a completely different genre - historic drama/romance. Helter-Skelter is the story of Albie, his search for his gypsy father when his mother abandons him at the age of twelve, and eventually of his army service in the first months of World War Two.

Look out for Helter-Skelter by Elizabeth Young soon on Amazon.

TROOP SHIP - a hundred words

TROOP SHIP 1939

“It’s no worse than when we went fishing that time,” Albie said, holding Bert’s belt as the troopship lurched into another trough.

“I were sick then too, remember?” Bert said, heaving up more of his breakfast.

Albie parked his whey-faced friend under a companionway and left him there while he walked the deck. The dark grey waves lifted and fell all the way to a horizon almost as grey, needles of spray lacerated his cheeks, and the deck was slimy with spume and vomit, but Albie pulled in deep lungfuls of the salty wind and laughed with sheer exhilaration.

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I believe this is the first time I've posted an extract from a book, but the mind of a writer is a strange land, and Ted Strutz's photo of a modern ferry took me to a scene from Helter-Skelter - a novel I am hoping to get published. I had to cut the little scene severely to fit, but I hope it shows how much Albie loves the wild tooth and claw of Nature.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/  You can follow the link from there to read other interpretations of the prompt.

THE SMITH GIRLS - another re-write!

It's been a while since I blogged about writing, mainly because I've been too busy actually doing it.
A month ago I finished a rewrite of my novel Helter-Skelter and re-submitted it to an agent. Waiting to hear whether I've cracked it this time is torture, and I have been too nervous to do more than faff.
Well, that's not quite true - I wrote a 200 word story for an online competition run by Writing Magazine's Talkback forum and was a runner-up, and I also wrote a humerous poem for the same competition.
I had a short story accepted by an online site http://alfiedog.com/ - my story should be published in September - and I've expanded the 200 word story into a longer one, so I've not been completely idle.
I still haven't heard about H-S (I'm hoping no news is good news) but now I am settling down to the next big challenge - a total rewrite of the sequel to Helter-Skelter.

Just reading my chapter summaries from when I wrote it two years ago has highlighted a problem - I need to shift the emphasis. In the original I was still focusing on Albie Smith, the MC in H-S, but the sequel begins twelve years later and Albie is now a family man. I had spread the story too thinly over Albie, his wife and their children, which resulted in the book lacking a central thread.

I gave up attempting a rewrite after the first chapter and had a rethink, lying awake for several nights. Then Mandy and I had a brain-storming session over a coffee which produced several ideas but nothing concrete, especially as every time I suggested dropping a character she cried, "Oh you can't do that - I like him/her!"
But now I have finally worked it out and I'm all excited about it again. Without losing sight of Albie and the rest of his family, the main focus is going to be on his two daughters.
They are in their very early teens, one dark, one fair, sometimes the best of friends, at others sworn enemies.
Hence the working title of my current project:

  The Smith Girls

FOTO - FINISH

No, you haven't strayed back into Day Six of the AtoZ Challenge - I am simply taking advantage of the Spanish spelling to make a headline.

FIRST the FOTO 
If you stand right underneath a jacaranda tree this is what you see - isn't it glorious?

FOLLOWED by the FINISH.
YAY!  I have reached the end of my re-write of HELTER-SKELTER which I began way back in March, when an agent said I could re-submit my novel to her when I had addressed some issues.
So I have tightened up the plot, cutting out scenes that, although I liked them, didn't move the story forward. I have written it more from my main character's point of view and cut back on the POVs of other people.
I've tracked down and eliminated repetitions, deleted people with absolutely no regard for how they might feel about it, and made the sex a bit raunchier.

I am a writer with no formal training in the craft, and the pages of advice from the agent were invaluable.
As was the help and support of the members of Talkback - the online writers' forum to which I belong. I have never met any of them in the flesh, but I feel I know them personally. A couple have even put aside their own work to comment on mine - a true act of friendship.

Today I had all 316 pages of HELTER-SKELTER printed at the Copy Centre in Los Cristianos - at €15.60 I considered it a bargain that saves over-burdening my own printer - and after a final read-through it will be time to get it professionally proof-read while I tackle the synopsis.

Then back to the agent.

"gulp"

One question remains - can I do all this with my fingers crossed?

YO!

YO in Spanish means ‘I’, Y means 'and', and YA means ‘right now’. Therefore “Yo y tu ya?” could be a (rather direct) invitation, no?

Probably not, but I do love playing with languages. 

And there's another thing - if the past tense of 'slide' is 'slid', why isn't the past tense of 'glide' 'glid'? It's a puzzle.

YALDING LEES is near Maidstone in Kent, and as I set my novel Helter-Skelter in that area, I found it during my research, because Yalding Lees was, until the 1950s, one of the many traditional stopping places for gypsies.

Yalding itself is a pretty village, and the Lees now a sought-after location – just as it was in the last century for the travelling families who kept the Garden of England supplied with labour until the introduction of mechanised fruit-picking.

Hops equal beer, and England wouldn't be the same without its beer, would it?

YUCCA there is a row of yuccas outside our building’s garage, and when they’re in flower they look lovely. I haven’t YET worked out which part of the plant one can buy in the vegetable shop and use to thicken a stew - perhaps both the fruit and the root?

VANS, VOLCANOES & VERY HOT CHILLIS

VERY HOT CHILLIS - my OH does like his chilli plants, and these pencil chillis have just ripened in the past few days. Fancy one?

VEHICLE – In May 1940 Albie and his depleted squad destroy a German tank, losing two more of their own men in the process. After a brief roadside burial they know they have to move fast – the explosion will have attracted attention – but they have no transport.

Thompson turned to Albie and asked, “What now, Corp?” thereby acknowledging that, with the Sergeant dead, they were under Albie’s orders; “Shall we catch up with the others?”

“They’re miles away by now,” Green commented sourly, “And we got no transport.”

“Would this do?” asked Darby, pushing open the shed door, and they crowded inside to stare at the strangest vehicle any of them had ever seen.

            If it had ever been a thing of beauty, the evidence now lay under layers of mud and chicken droppings. A topless, backless box of a cab perched behind the engine, there were no bumpers or headlights, and the open back had obviously been created by taking a saw to whatever bodywork had originally been there. When Paddy rubbed the paintwork of the door with his sleeve they read ‘Marc’s Glaces’ – their new vehicle had started life as an ice-cream VAN.

 We know they reach Dunkirk because Helter-Skelter opens with them on the beach (see my C blog for a snippet) but the full story of their perilous journey through the last stretch of France to get there is at the end of my novel. I think the idea of the ice-cream van lightens the story just a tad.

Imagine something like this but a lot less cared-for!

VILLAFLOR is the highest village in Tenerife, 1400 metres above sea level, but many a clapped-out old van still climbs the precipitous winding road that is its only access. Getting stuck behind one of those is only one of the hazards - in the winter Villaflor is sometimes cut off by snow.

Around 2000 people inhabit this peaceful 16^th century village, living mainly by agriculture and viticulture – the wine is lovely.

Its most famous son was Hermano Pedro, Tenerife’s only official saint, whose cave hermitage is at the other extreme - almost at sea level near El Medano, in a VERY noisy position right next to the airport. The airport authorities wanted this place of pilgrimage closed for security reasons, but everyone said NO! Quite right too – Pedro was there first - but sometimes the planes take off to the west and if you're standing outside the cave the noise is tremendous - I love it!

Living so near to a VOLCANO we claim to be blasé about volcanic activity, but when we see clouds that resemble smoke issuing from a chimney, we do wonder ………

TELL ME A STORY, PA

  “TELL ME A STORY” 

I remember asking my father that. I wish I could also remember the stories he made up for me and my brother, but they are lost in the mists of  TIME. One legacy I do have though - he passed on to me his vivid imagination.

Here he is - my PA x

Perhaps earliest man sat in his cave telling stories and the cave paintings we see are simply illustrations? I wonder if they finished their TALES by saying, “THE END”?

At the start of Part 3 of Helter-Skelter I tell the story of Albie at TRAINING CAMP, learning to drive an Army TRUCK, and of what happens when his old enemy from his schooldays TURNS UP in the same regiment.
 Strange as it may seems, records are reticent about the kinds of shennanigans soldiers in training indulged in, but with some input from the OH about his National Service my imagination has had free rein.

  

TEIDE is the TALLEST mountain in the Canary Islands and the Spanish Peninsula. It measures 3718 metres which is over two miles. I know at least two people who joined the “Mile High Club” without leaving the ground, though where they found the energy is a mystery, because the air is very thin.
It can also be very cold – I have been up there in the snow – but there are barbecue areas where local people go all year round. 

You can take a cable car to the top when it’s not too windy, and if you get a permit in advance you can climb the final 200 metres to breathe the sulphurous fumes. Mount Teide might be dormant but it’s not dead.

TREES – The jacarandas flowered in our village last week just in TIME for your photographic TREAT of the day.

SEX, SUN, SEA & STORM

 – and now that I have your attention, ~I will start off with a taster from my novel Helter-Skelter – a description of the beginning of the STORM in 1935 that changes Albie’s future.

One night, after a blustery day earning a few shillings rolling barrels into the pub, Albie was woken by his window rattling in its frame. He got up to see the trees being blown practically horizontal and waves crashing clear over the promenade to batter the road. A dreadful moaning sound built up and up – he had never heard anything like it. He went downstairs to make sure all was secure, but George had beaten him to it and the kettle was already on the hob. Albie was about to take a cup up to Dot when she appeared in the kitchen, clutching her dressing-gown closed as it afraid the howling wind would snatch it away.

“A body can’t sleep with that racket going on, and I’ll feel safer downstairs.”

Would you go downstairs for a cuppa in these circumstances, or pull the covers over your head and pray?

SEX – we all know that this is one reason a lot of folk come to Tenerife - drinking SANGRIA in the SUN lying on the SAND beside the SEA tends to dull people’s perceptions and SENSE of discretion – but there are many more visitors who come for the SCENERY and the food, both of which are SIMPLY STUNNING.

STRELITZIA REGINAE – I took this photo on my walk yesterday – the SPANISH call it Estrelitsa, but they simply cannot pronounce any word that begins with an S without adding an E first!

We see holiday-makers clutching these flowers at the airport – I have never asked if they are actually allowed to take them on board, but I would imagine there are some airlines (naming no names) who would charge extra.

RED ALERT!

  RED ALERT – that’s the level of heat we’re threatened with today, although at present we only have an Orange Alert. A calima has come in from two directions at once and the temperature has shot up to 35C. RESIDENTS and tourists alike are advised to stay indoors and drink lots of water.

Of course there will always be holiday-makers who don’t listen and end up burnt to a crisp. Just because the sun is hidden by a thick dust-haze doesn’t mean you’re safe!

When we drove back from San Isidro market at 8.30 this morning there was already a blast of hot air through the car windows. This is a photo of what we bought for about €25 – and that doesn’t include the bag of potatoes that I couldn't fit on my worktop.

 At the market there were huge RABANOS (RADISHES) and RUCOLA (ROCKET) and one solitary ROSA among the lilies.

AT LEAST WITH ALL THOSE VEGETABLES IT WAS COOL IN THERE!

RETURNING to my Helter-Skelter theme, when Albie wanted to get married in church he discovered he had no birth certificate. Norah was able to REPAY the Smiths’ kindness to her by RUSHING through his belated REGISTRATION, totally unfazed by the lies she had to tell in the process. An unforeseen and not completely welcome RESULT arose a few years later when his call-up papers arrived - until then Albie had lived beneath the RADAR. 

But if Albie hadn't been in France, Bert would have died, and there would have been no-one to RESCUE the baby.

POPPIES, PICTURES & PLAYSCHOOL

 POPPIES There aren’t many left of the servicemen who fought in World War Two, but there are still servicemen and women being injured today. This is why the Royal British Legion in Tenerife supports the POPPY APPEAL. 

There are only a handful of us – my OH is the Chairman – but 2012 was the fifth year we won the Noel Rogers Trophy for the overseas branch that raised the most money per member.

It helped that we were invited to sell poppies on the cruise liner Mariner of the Seas when it called into Santa Cruz. We were given lunch and a guided tour, including the bridge, before we stood in the sun for a couple of hours while the passengers re-embarked after a day ashore. 

"Gee! Is it Veterans' Day already?" one American asked, and donated all his left-over euros.

PICTURES

Only a few years ago I would have had to PORE over library books to find the PHOTOS I wanted to help my research. Now all I have to do is to ask the internet the correct questions.

Photographs of common people in the early 1900s were difficult to track down – only wealthy people could afford cameras then – but find them I did.

 Such faces! Black and white or sepia are so much more evocative, aren't they?

On the other hand there were lots of photos of WW2, and those of Dunkirk beaches,with lines of men snaking into the sea are gut-wrenching even now.

My local photo for today is of the nearest PLAYSCHOOL. Those handprints create a lovely image of a caring environment. Unfortunately, my friend recently found a toddler wandering in the street, and she discovered, after carting him round the local shops and bars, he had escaped from this Guarderia un-noticed. We can only hope they have taken this lesson to heart.