IF IT HAPPENED NOW

IF IT HAPPENED NOW - A STORY FOR CHRISTMAS

“What’s up, babe? Your latte’s getting cold.”

“I’ve gone off coffee, Joe – get me an orange juice instead.”

Joe returned from the counter wearing a worried frown, “You’ve been moody all week and now you’ve gone off coffee – are you breaking up with me?”

Mary couldn’t meet his soft brown eyes. “You might want to dump me when I tell you – I’m having a baby.”

“I’m going to be a dad? That’s brilliant!”

“It’s not yours.” The words dropped like a stone between them and Joe leapt up so violently that other customers stared. “Whose is it then? I thought you loved me.”

Mary shrugged helplessly. “I do love you, Joe, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“You mean someone forced you? I’ll bloody kill him!”

“It wasn’t like that. This angel turned up and told me God’s been watching me and decided I’m the right one to have His baby. The angel said this baby will save the world one day.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” Joe’s voice dripped scorn.

Mary shrank back in her seat, her hands protecting her belly, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself, but it’s the truth. I’m dreading telling Mum and Dad.”

Joe sat down slowly and wiped her tears with his calloused carpenter’s thumbs, “I can’t deny it’s a bit of a shock, Mary,” he said gently, “But I love you and we’ll work it out.” He grinned suddenly. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

Written for no particular reason other than the need to do so! Leave a comment if you'd like to, and I wish you a very Happy Christmas. Thank you for staying with me and reading my blog through the year. Lizy.

SPOOKY SHOWER STORY

We think our shower may be haunted - or at the very least there was some sort of strange psychic energy in there this morning.
As we were drinking a coffee in Las Galletas today I said to the Other Half, "I had this weird sensation in the shower this morning." (All those people with dirty minds go to the back of the class.)
"What was that?" he asked, which proved he had actually heard me - a miracle in itself.
"A moment of deja vu ," I told him, "But the main thing is that it gave me an idea for a story." I described my idea - an off-the-wall one as most of my story ideas are - and it will get written when it's stewed for a while. In the meantime the OH had his own experience to add.
"There must be something peculiar in the shower today," he said, "Because I was about to get out when I realized I hadn't washed my hair."
Now that IS spooky. The OH takes great pride in the fact that he still has hair at 77, and he uses an inordinate amount of 2 in 1 shampoo. For him to forget to wash the locks is strange indeed.

SHORT-LISTED!

How exciting! My Writing Magazine arrived today and in the Competition Special I discovered that I was short-listed in a short story competition.
I entered it last year as a 2011 New Subscriber, and it was so long ago that I had forgotten. I had to look at my list of competitions I've entered even to remember which story it was!

If you want to read it, look on my Short Stories Page for "COMMUNITY SERVICE" - the story will explain this photo.

A Floating Muse?

I am sitting up in bed with a sore throat and a temperature so this will probably be a bit garbled.
I have had a strangely similar conversation three times this week, in which I was encouraging others to write.

   The first was D whose personal diary of his solo Atlantic voyage I typed up for him. I then said he should at least publish a few copies for his grandchildren and suggested some modest improvements,. That was before Christmas and he has followed my advice by adding photos and a rigging plan to explain his references to sails.
Then blow me down - from an initial reluctance even to consider his "scribblings" as a book (40.000w) he has come to two Writers' Circle meetings with me. On the way home last Monday he said, "D'ye know, Liz - I might even try my fist at a short story."
  Then P turned up to stay with us for a week of R&R and we got talking about his writing. He says he likes describing scenery, settings etc, and can visualize his characters easily, but gets bored with his plot when only two chapters into a book. Try writing short stories, I said, and he might do just that.
  This morning the OH and I attended a reception for the British Ambassador to Spain in Santa Cruz. (I'm only along as spouse of the Chairman of the RBL) and there was N, a woman I met last year in Madrid, waiting in a designated spot to have our hands shaken by HRH Charles. N had an MBE for being a prison visitor for many years, and she said, as you do, "I've got enough stories to fill a book."I said "Why not try?" She took my email address and said she'd be in touch. Of course she didn't, but today she decided my re-appearance must be a sign to get on with writing.
   So am I a floating muse?

BOTHER!

I should have asked my daughter!
Wrote a short story and sent it off before I'd shown it to my daughter - my best and most honest critic. And guess what? She spotted a silly mistake! Too late, of course, but I should have known better.
There was no rush - another few days wouldn't have hurt - but I was so pleased with it I couldn't wait.
Bother!

I've been grinning all morning!
I grinned at the waiter who served my cafe con leche on the seafront, and at the intrepid sunbathers on Las Galletas beach as I walked past in my cardigan.
I smiled at the Guardia Civil who were checking cars for current ITV badges at Palm Mar roundabout. (That's the local equivalent of MOT)
The man selling bananas from a huge bunch in the back of his tiny car got a smile, as did the African woman sailing slowly over the zebra crossing in her splendid Sunday best.
I grinned at Miguel when I paid for a few lonchas de beicon and a panito for my lunch. Dammit - I nearly kissed the cat!
And the cause of all this excitement?
My story was short-listed in a Writing Magazine competition!
No prize, no photo in the magazine, just my name at the end of a list (hopefully only at the end because my surname is Young)
One very small step, you may think, but it's a giant leap for me.
                                                                                        YIPPEE!

A real critic

I wrote a short story over the weekend.
On Monday I gave it to the OH asking him to tell me what he suspected as he read it, and whether he was surprised by the denouement. His only comment when he gave it back was "Very good." Pressed further, he added "The man was a prat." True but not what I was after.
Next step - show it to M, my daughter and best critic.
She read it carefully and said halfway through the first page, "I think she's OCD."
I was afraid I'd overdone that sentence - made a note to change it.
Two pages later she guessed the outcome too soon.
A discussion ensued, during which it became clear that I had made my hints too subtle.One of my failings is to be so bound up in my story that I forget my reader is coming to it fresh, without my insight into the plot.
After a re-write, M's opinion was that I had succeeded in making my character sound more sinister, and the hints would now lead the reader up one or two blind alleys. Great - just what I'd been aiming for.
Sorted, sent off with fingers crossed.
Every writer should have a daughter like M.

New notebook!

To anyone who thought I was mad - I bought a new notebook yesterday and today I wrote a complete short story! Of course I'll have to look at it tomorrow to see how it can be improved, but I am well chuffed. It's one for the WM competition about New Year resolutions, so perhaps that's a good omen for this year?

No photos thankyou

There I was with a short story simmering away nicely. Thought a cup of tea and a biscuit would help it along. Sat with same on the terrace, watching cat sunbathing and wondering what it would be like to be able to rest my nose on my back feet. Took a bite of biscuit and - Arrghh!
A crown broke off. It's been in my mouth for 40 years (courtesy of NHS when my son was a baby) but I had no clue it was about to quit. It took the underlying tooth stump with it, and it's right in the front. Not a pretty sight.
First thing this morning we drive to the dentist - they know us well as the OH had major work done recently. They were shut for refurbishments till Monday. Probably spending the thousands we paid for his teeth.
So I'll be writing the story to take my mind off the fact that Sod's Law seems to have been written especially for me.