A murder of crows
A widow stands at a window
All my lovers, in alphabetical order
Anger does not arouse a chair, grief, a table
Boys with bread-pudding in the hands, kicking a can
But not the kitchen sink
Driving along the motorway
Grant me good rest tonight, Lord
How d'you get down off an elephant?
Is the soul solid, like iron?
Late afternoon shines through chinks in the barn
Laura sleeping without pants
Marie drives back and forth
The evenings dazzle
The smell of boiling jam
There will be talking of lovely things
Things will be different
What is a room if not its memories?
What we call a beginning is often an end
When a lover dies
Why do they call it ashes?
Saturday, 30 June 2007
Friday, 29 June 2007
als on still warming up
last night i got home to discover i hadn;' placed in the top four of the UH competition (top prize £1000) so i have to make do with a top twenty place and anthology publication (which is great, actually, but hey, a grand's a grand)
also got a reject from liar's league, which i had high hopes for.
so not in the greatest of moods.
as part of the warm up for the july blast, i'd written two flashes, both over 1000 words, and a poem i was realtively pleased with. so last night - primaries deadline looming - i got straight down to a story.
two thousand words later, there we go - just finished re-reading it now, a day after writing it. i'm too close to judge the quality, i always need a couple of days, but it feels good to have basically done my primaries story a day before deadline.
also, the warm up pushed me over 12000 words for the month, for only the third time this year, and has produced maybe three subbable pieces.
now we've got the real thing starting this weekend.
bring it on...
also got a reject from liar's league, which i had high hopes for.
so not in the greatest of moods.
as part of the warm up for the july blast, i'd written two flashes, both over 1000 words, and a poem i was realtively pleased with. so last night - primaries deadline looming - i got straight down to a story.
two thousand words later, there we go - just finished re-reading it now, a day after writing it. i'm too close to judge the quality, i always need a couple of days, but it feels good to have basically done my primaries story a day before deadline.
also, the warm up pushed me over 12000 words for the month, for only the third time this year, and has produced maybe three subbable pieces.
now we've got the real thing starting this weekend.
bring it on...
Stats Update
28 June
A string of final places in a number of comps (results TBA)
and another half-dozen publications
two budding poets get into Poetic Hours, TomC appears at Defenestration, Cally has a story dramatised in London at "Liars League", "Rupert"'s stoy "Kicking" and RVJ's story "Soccer, Cake" appear at Flashquake, each earning $25
Reported Publications this year 54
Hits for the year now total 106, earning $3,473
The warm-up to the Jluy Blast has profuced 15 pieces to date
A string of final places in a number of comps (results TBA)
and another half-dozen publications
two budding poets get into Poetic Hours, TomC appears at Defenestration, Cally has a story dramatised in London at "Liars League", "Rupert"'s stoy "Kicking" and RVJ's story "Soccer, Cake" appear at Flashquake, each earning $25
Reported Publications this year 54
Hits for the year now total 106, earning $3,473
The warm-up to the Jluy Blast has profuced 15 pieces to date
Friday Prompts 01 06:30
REMEMBER WE HAVE A PRIMARY (STORY) DEADLINE TONIGHT
FOR STORIES, NOT FLASHES.
PROMPTS
Only the porter could open the lock
I am the bastard William Williams
The hotel manager read it
Well, Bethan, looks like I went and did it after all
He cut through the canvas
She paused and added, 1913
Tents like white commas, as far as the eye could see
I can't seem to find my feet
To understand, you must lose things
Your life is like a house that unbuilds itself
The pellets we are fed
Time explodes like a nail-bomb
My old man said follow the van
Last Orders
Fortress Singapore
Snow is falling again
The woman opposite is dozing, thinking of murders
FOR STORIES, NOT FLASHES.
PROMPTS
Only the porter could open the lock
I am the bastard William Williams
The hotel manager read it
Well, Bethan, looks like I went and did it after all
He cut through the canvas
She paused and added, 1913
Tents like white commas, as far as the eye could see
I can't seem to find my feet
To understand, you must lose things
Your life is like a house that unbuilds itself
The pellets we are fed
Time explodes like a nail-bomb
My old man said follow the van
Last Orders
Fortress Singapore
Snow is falling again
The woman opposite is dozing, thinking of murders
Thursday, 28 June 2007
Thursday Prompts at 22:30
Barking
One man went to mow
Half-way up the stairs is the stair where I sit
Monopoly Wars
Catchphrase
Eating Bush Meat
The man with rubber arms
Conspiracy Fairies
Memories of granny's kitchen
Big Game
In the mouth of the cave
Manflu
Adventures of a Wheelie Bin on a Green island
Cell Block X
The essential uselessness of an uncharged mouse
One man went to mow
Half-way up the stairs is the stair where I sit
Monopoly Wars
Catchphrase
Eating Bush Meat
The man with rubber arms
Conspiracy Fairies
Memories of granny's kitchen
Big Game
In the mouth of the cave
Manflu
Adventures of a Wheelie Bin on a Green island
Cell Block X
The essential uselessness of an uncharged mouse
Thursday Prompts for 6PM & 8PM
Chairs move by themselves, and books
The ferryman lay drunk in his boat
When the heart stumbles
He is conscious only at brief intervals
I did not imagine being bald
Each night eating a little further
An enamel bath
Window frames, pictures
I didn't doubt for a moment you were dead
You could always bring me flowers
Tomcat
What can moonlight do?
An old woman with heavy breasts
A thing to look away from
Immaculate Conception
And wheeled him off
Joe Smith, eight-six-and-a-half
My face catches the wind
Imagine, snapshots of our deaths
I remember the last red rose
The murderer has been patient with his poisons
Their little house has forty rooms
Seventy-nine years in a small box
A groundsheet, a pool of human blood
The trees are careful
The ferryman lay drunk in his boat
When the heart stumbles
He is conscious only at brief intervals
I did not imagine being bald
Each night eating a little further
An enamel bath
Window frames, pictures
I didn't doubt for a moment you were dead
You could always bring me flowers
Tomcat
What can moonlight do?
An old woman with heavy breasts
A thing to look away from
Immaculate Conception
And wheeled him off
Joe Smith, eight-six-and-a-half
My face catches the wind
Imagine, snapshots of our deaths
I remember the last red rose
The murderer has been patient with his poisons
Their little house has forty rooms
Seventy-nine years in a small box
A groundsheet, a pool of human blood
The trees are careful
Thursday 02 12:04
PROMPTS
Give me the strongest cheese, one that stinks
From the window I see horses
By afternoon there were cars everywhere
I was in Berlin
I walked on the tops of trees
A cow is giving birth
What is the smell of being human?
The purple mist of trees upon a mountain
The neighbours heard it
Once, I caught a tremendous fish
When despair climbs into my bed
Coffee, condensed milk, brandy
I can hear humming
Dull, hungry, like a damp dish-cloth
Take another look
Apple
Tell me this is not why you came
What is fucked-up, suffocating
Nothing is known for sure
Give me the strongest cheese, one that stinks
From the window I see horses
By afternoon there were cars everywhere
I was in Berlin
I walked on the tops of trees
A cow is giving birth
What is the smell of being human?
The purple mist of trees upon a mountain
The neighbours heard it
Once, I caught a tremendous fish
When despair climbs into my bed
Coffee, condensed milk, brandy
I can hear humming
Dull, hungry, like a damp dish-cloth
Take another look
Apple
Tell me this is not why you came
What is fucked-up, suffocating
Nothing is known for sure
Thursday 01 07:07
PROMPTS
A crow fished from a blocked chimney
Bud
Hoofprints in sand
Down by the nets
What comes in through a cat-flap
Without oars we rowed for hours
What if a road decided to go somewhere else?
As a dog with two dicks
Karthoum
You might hear, second, third, fourth hand, that I am unwell
He who lives by the sword. Is scary
That night, blind corners could suddenly see
Dream Kitchen
McDonalds as a War Crime
With nothing left I phone you
Concentrate on her various attributes
Behind Blockbuster Video
When they told me I was dead I said, not funny
Omnibus
univented blades of grass
The earth still moves
A crow fished from a blocked chimney
Bud
Hoofprints in sand
Down by the nets
What comes in through a cat-flap
Without oars we rowed for hours
What if a road decided to go somewhere else?
As a dog with two dicks
Karthoum
You might hear, second, third, fourth hand, that I am unwell
He who lives by the sword. Is scary
That night, blind corners could suddenly see
Dream Kitchen
McDonalds as a War Crime
With nothing left I phone you
Concentrate on her various attributes
Behind Blockbuster Video
When they told me I was dead I said, not funny
Omnibus
univented blades of grass
The earth still moves
Wednesday, 27 June 2007
Prompts, Wednesday, 22:30
Caravans and Cream Soda
When the Waters Cover the Sea
Bribery, Bilberries
A good laugh and a couple of beers
A million words escape me
Bringing her down to size
What do you eat when the chips are down
The Ten-second Rule
Exterminate! Exterminate!
Behind the Sofa
Smiling Happy Places
Foster's Lair
Death of a Jam-maker
When the Waters Cover the Sea
Bribery, Bilberries
A good laugh and a couple of beers
A million words escape me
Bringing her down to size
What do you eat when the chips are down
The Ten-second Rule
Exterminate! Exterminate!
Behind the Sofa
Smiling Happy Places
Foster's Lair
Death of a Jam-maker
als- more on the pre blast blast
last night was a difficult one
lots of real life stuff to contend with, but determined to crank out a flash or at least a poem...
some great prompts floating around, and i managed just over a thousand words flash, but it happened in two sittings. first thirty minutesor so just took off based on three or four of the prompts, and i didn;t really stop to think about what the hell i was writing.
then real life interrupted and i had to leave the thing for a couple of hours.
not ideal.
came back to it and realised that it was a million miles from what i usually like to write/read.
it's weird where these things come from when you're flashing - if i'd thought about it at all, i can't see me ever writing those characters, pl0t events, that voice.
but that's what was there, and i managed to finish it off in about another twenty minutes.
also managed to crit four other flashes, but only managed tto post one before real life got in the way again.
still, two nights, two passable if not publishable flashes, over two thousand words written.
as a start, it'll do...
but there's subs to think about, there's primaries on friday, then the blast proper starts at the weekend.
but that's the secret, i think.
never stop.
lots of real life stuff to contend with, but determined to crank out a flash or at least a poem...
some great prompts floating around, and i managed just over a thousand words flash, but it happened in two sittings. first thirty minutesor so just took off based on three or four of the prompts, and i didn;t really stop to think about what the hell i was writing.
then real life interrupted and i had to leave the thing for a couple of hours.
not ideal.
came back to it and realised that it was a million miles from what i usually like to write/read.
it's weird where these things come from when you're flashing - if i'd thought about it at all, i can't see me ever writing those characters, pl0t events, that voice.
but that's what was there, and i managed to finish it off in about another twenty minutes.
also managed to crit four other flashes, but only managed tto post one before real life got in the way again.
still, two nights, two passable if not publishable flashes, over two thousand words written.
as a start, it'll do...
but there's subs to think about, there's primaries on friday, then the blast proper starts at the weekend.
but that's the secret, i think.
never stop.
Prompts for 1800 and 2000 Wednesday
They are dancing in Tescos
VW
By now I bet he'd dead, which suits me fine
ABC
He wanted to make us take notice
VC
They are dancing on the tops of cars
XYZ
Two fat girls in tight pants
BBC
The fourth oldest profession
The father gets a bullet in the eye
Sweet Earth
VD
I look at you sleeping
Our trust in art
The moon, bright orange
STD
A man eats a chicken
PARTY!
The green way to cook a pig
White thighs like slabs of lard
He was depressed, so built a bomb
When all the leaves are old
Tread softly, softly
The Man Who Knew Too Much
In order to forgive we must first know
On emerging from a dark tunnel
India, Iraq, Indonesia, Idaho
VW
By now I bet he'd dead, which suits me fine
ABC
He wanted to make us take notice
VC
They are dancing on the tops of cars
XYZ
Two fat girls in tight pants
BBC
The fourth oldest profession
The father gets a bullet in the eye
Sweet Earth
VD
I look at you sleeping
Our trust in art
The moon, bright orange
STD
A man eats a chicken
PARTY!
The green way to cook a pig
White thighs like slabs of lard
He was depressed, so built a bomb
When all the leaves are old
Tread softly, softly
The Man Who Knew Too Much
In order to forgive we must first know
On emerging from a dark tunnel
India, Iraq, Indonesia, Idaho
Wednesday 02 11:00 prompts
Two trees
I watch with my daughter
Hard, heavy, slow, dark
It's snowing down south
It's hard to believe these guys
Must Have TV
Like in a trick mirror
Allesandro the Grape
You see them in bars, eating ice-cream
Blue Sky to the North
Once more I think of you
How to inflate a rock
The boy waits on the top step
A chunk of brown bread
Being Alive
Chicken sandwich with mayonaisse
I watch with my daughter
Hard, heavy, slow, dark
It's snowing down south
It's hard to believe these guys
Must Have TV
Like in a trick mirror
Allesandro the Grape
You see them in bars, eating ice-cream
Blue Sky to the North
Once more I think of you
How to inflate a rock
The boy waits on the top step
A chunk of brown bread
Being Alive
Chicken sandwich with mayonaisse
Wednesday 01 08:00
Four men in orange uniforms, a suit
In the back of a garbage truck
Six blind women
Brutal lips, a slash across the face
It's not a fancy restaurant
Last night I dreamt I was in Vladivostok
That act of love lies somewhere between the belly and the mind
My friends Howie and Francine
In a past life I believed in reincarnation, but now I don't
Woman in a red, red dress
Knock at the door
He was big alongside me, like a ship in dock
Pickpocket
There is no sky today
One morning my father went down the icy stairs
Flowers, red lilies, roses, scarlet petunia
Love is apart from all things else
In the back of a garbage truck
Six blind women
Brutal lips, a slash across the face
It's not a fancy restaurant
Last night I dreamt I was in Vladivostok
That act of love lies somewhere between the belly and the mind
My friends Howie and Francine
In a past life I believed in reincarnation, but now I don't
Woman in a red, red dress
Knock at the door
He was big alongside me, like a ship in dock
Pickpocket
There is no sky today
One morning my father went down the icy stairs
Flowers, red lilies, roses, scarlet petunia
Love is apart from all things else
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
Prompts for Ten PM
Dressed for death, and smiling
There is no greater crime than leaving
The Unit
Plastic Coffins, Perspex Windows
You've been a long time making up your mind
As the evening light congeals
I have learned about dying from looking at pictures
HAMMER
The Hostage Reunion
DRILL
I wait in a dive on 52nd street
Pretend You Love
The smell of dead children
SCREW
All I have is my voice
NAIL
I am standing here inside my skin
Picking though debris
Fox, gravel, stink
We are now at peace
Hate them all, hate is good
Down to the seventh level
Night beasts in a winter field
There is no greater crime than leaving
The Unit
Plastic Coffins, Perspex Windows
You've been a long time making up your mind
As the evening light congeals
I have learned about dying from looking at pictures
HAMMER
The Hostage Reunion
DRILL
I wait in a dive on 52nd street
Pretend You Love
The smell of dead children
SCREW
All I have is my voice
NAIL
I am standing here inside my skin
Picking though debris
Fox, gravel, stink
We are now at peace
Hate them all, hate is good
Down to the seventh level
Night beasts in a winter field
eight o clock prompts
shine so bright
i'd like that million dollars
my love lives in the balance
early days, late nights
she fills the spaces
it's not the liquor i miss
a history of lovers who have been here before
cat's eyes trance
silence, and the kettle
hand-picked here and now
i'd like that million dollars
my love lives in the balance
early days, late nights
she fills the spaces
it's not the liquor i miss
a history of lovers who have been here before
cat's eyes trance
silence, and the kettle
hand-picked here and now
Tuesday Afternoon/Evening Prompt Set
Posted at 16:25 but for the 6PM slot.
Whenever you look, you get a max of 90 minutes to flash
No, that's a special connection
Where an honest river runs
Behind a dirty window
I am grass
Who sold you this, then?
Of stone and harsh wind
If you didn't come from your country
Pile the bodies high, paint them white
The janitor disturbed some wasps
She rubbed her legs together as she sat on a disembowelled horse
The lovers disappeared
And voices, lifting
I love Gerry Adams, Saddam Hussein
A Squad of Mothers, prams
I sometimes lie, or bend the truth
I did not choose to be (Welsh)
Whenever you look, you get a max of 90 minutes to flash
No, that's a special connection
Where an honest river runs
Behind a dirty window
I am grass
Who sold you this, then?
Of stone and harsh wind
If you didn't come from your country
Pile the bodies high, paint them white
The janitor disturbed some wasps
She rubbed her legs together as she sat on a disembowelled horse
The lovers disappeared
And voices, lifting
I love Gerry Adams, Saddam Hussein
A Squad of Mothers, prams
I sometimes lie, or bend the truth
I did not choose to be (Welsh)
Slow Start
I's just as well we chose to "warm-up" for a week before the July Blast
Two weeks away for me and Boot Camp got quiet.
Now getting it going again is like trying to move an oil tanker with oars.
3 Flashes and two poems so far.
Let's hope it gets a little better.
alx
Two weeks away for me and Boot Camp got quiet.
Now getting it going again is like trying to move an oil tanker with oars.
3 Flashes and two poems so far.
Let's hope it gets a little better.
alx
Tuesday Prompts 02
11:25
Here they are. The soft eyes open.
The man on the bench in the barn
The Ghost Road
Ambiguity
All the flowers, black
The Sixpenny Show
Wow, I said, I'd love a Big Mac
253
Haunted
Before I knew there were men
24
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota
19
Strange Lolayties
Zanzibar
For all the horses butcherd on the battlefield
Skunk
A cool small evening, shrinking with rain
A snail on my window
Suddenly he is at the centre of a cone of white light
Ideas of Home
PARIS
Here they are. The soft eyes open.
The man on the bench in the barn
The Ghost Road
Ambiguity
All the flowers, black
The Sixpenny Show
Wow, I said, I'd love a Big Mac
253
Haunted
Before I knew there were men
24
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota
19
Strange Lolayties
Zanzibar
For all the horses butcherd on the battlefield
Skunk
A cool small evening, shrinking with rain
A snail on my window
Suddenly he is at the centre of a cone of white light
Ideas of Home
PARIS
Tuesday Prompts 01
and sang the sun in flight
we should have been galloping on horses
are you dreaming of what is lost?
sunflowers outside the window
hauling in lobsters pots, sun gleaming
my brother is here, my sister
stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
The stars are not wanted now
things move
pity the drunks, the old, the dead
the art of blood on snow
she wrote her notes, then blocked the door
Moondust
Little Children
we should have been galloping on horses
are you dreaming of what is lost?
sunflowers outside the window
hauling in lobsters pots, sun gleaming
my brother is here, my sister
stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
The stars are not wanted now
things move
pity the drunks, the old, the dead
the art of blood on snow
she wrote her notes, then blocked the door
Moondust
Little Children
Monday, 25 June 2007
als on the pre-blast blast
thought i'd put down a few words each night (or most nights) as we go through the balst (and the pre blast)
a few people are up for flashes and poems in preparation for July's blast.
good.
i was determined to get something done, and managed to fit somethign in around various life things tonight. 1000+ words of a flash - used the prompts posted, but in the end only included maybe two of them. i usually prefer it when the story starts to eat up all the prompts on the page, almost without me trying. that didn;t happen tonight.
the story isn;t great. ,it's probably not even subbable. but that's not the point. not for this pre-blast, anyway.
the point is to get used to forcing myself to sit down, write something - anything - every night.
and i managed that, at least.
i even started another piece, a poem. didn;t finish because life got in the way again, but i got a couple of stanzas down, and i'll come back to it.
managed to crit the other flash that someone had managed today as well.
it was much better than mine.
so, a partial, limited, tenuous success.
but that's ok.
i wrote one and a half pieces, over a thousand words. and i wouldn't have done that otherwise.
a few people are up for flashes and poems in preparation for July's blast.
good.
i was determined to get something done, and managed to fit somethign in around various life things tonight. 1000+ words of a flash - used the prompts posted, but in the end only included maybe two of them. i usually prefer it when the story starts to eat up all the prompts on the page, almost without me trying. that didn;t happen tonight.
the story isn;t great. ,it's probably not even subbable. but that's not the point. not for this pre-blast, anyway.
the point is to get used to forcing myself to sit down, write something - anything - every night.
and i managed that, at least.
i even started another piece, a poem. didn;t finish because life got in the way again, but i got a couple of stanzas down, and i'll come back to it.
managed to crit the other flash that someone had managed today as well.
it was much better than mine.
so, a partial, limited, tenuous success.
but that's ok.
i wrote one and a half pieces, over a thousand words. and i wouldn't have done that otherwise.
more flash prompts
in case you need any more!
crumbliest, flakiest
brother's on his way
no one wants the job
informed and anxious
controlled and crying
escher block
the corner of helium and green
sandals, size nine
where's the duck when you need it?
one day in, too many to go
crumbliest, flakiest
brother's on his way
no one wants the job
informed and anxious
controlled and crying
escher block
the corner of helium and green
sandals, size nine
where's the duck when you need it?
one day in, too many to go
Flash Prompts 04
at 20:00
Life Support
Out of the Silent Planet
Enter the Dragon
The Kleenex Monopoly
Woman with pitchfork
Potato Digging
Mother Theresa versus Father Brown
The long, slow ache of living with you
The Pride of Lions
Mutual Backscratching
Flashes can be sent by Blasters to me or to Alex for anon posting.
Life Support
Out of the Silent Planet
Enter the Dragon
The Kleenex Monopoly
Woman with pitchfork
Potato Digging
Mother Theresa versus Father Brown
The long, slow ache of living with you
The Pride of Lions
Mutual Backscratching
Flashes can be sent by Blasters to me or to Alex for anon posting.
Flash Prompts 03
18:30 prompts posted on Boot Camp by MP
Panzerman, the valley of ashes
The Hotel
White Van Man Returns From the Dead
My Brother is Out of Bed Today
Seventeen Ways to Advertise
The man who fixed the World Series
The Four Till Ten Shift
The Black Cloud
Gently, Gently Down the Stream
Simply not good enough
The Invoice
Bluetooth and Other Bastards
Swimming to the Azores
Panzerman, the valley of ashes
The Hotel
White Van Man Returns From the Dead
My Brother is Out of Bed Today
Seventeen Ways to Advertise
The man who fixed the World Series
The Four Till Ten Shift
The Black Cloud
Gently, Gently Down the Stream
Simply not good enough
The Invoice
Bluetooth and Other Bastards
Swimming to the Azores
Flash Prompts 02
Midday Prompts
A catastrophic kiss
A drum taps
A week without a moon
All catches alight
and again by the Saturday boat.
and boarding in rooms.
Flags
My wife shook the hand of the pickpocket
She let him tie the black silk over her eyes
Small cheap mirrors with MADE IN TUNISIA written on the back
Driving to the airport along a glittering highway
South of
Number Twenty-One
and I have calculated that absolutely nothing would be saved
as it may become very difficult and precarious
At present I am particularly concerned
by sub-letting the flat (furnished)
For the heart to be loveless
for the Wednesday boat
from America to England.
I am sick for want of sleep
Breaking and Entering
Against
Refreshment
Red Nose
Please Can I Have a Chicken?
A day like any other day
In the corner of the kitchen
My brother's room
My father carries me across a field
Why I Don't Live at the post office
A catastrophic kiss
A drum taps
A week without a moon
All catches alight
and again by the Saturday boat.
and boarding in rooms.
Flags
My wife shook the hand of the pickpocket
She let him tie the black silk over her eyes
Small cheap mirrors with MADE IN TUNISIA written on the back
Driving to the airport along a glittering highway
South of
Number Twenty-One
and I have calculated that absolutely nothing would be saved
as it may become very difficult and precarious
At present I am particularly concerned
by sub-letting the flat (furnished)
For the heart to be loveless
for the Wednesday boat
from America to England.
I am sick for want of sleep
Breaking and Entering
Against
Refreshment
Red Nose
Please Can I Have a Chicken?
A day like any other day
In the corner of the kitchen
My brother's room
My father carries me across a field
Why I Don't Live at the post office
Flash Prompts 01
Use one or more of the prompts below, either directly, or indirectly (as inspiration) to produce a flash. Ideal time-to-write is 45-75 minutes, but if a longer story evolves, then write it. record your time for first draft and add it (and prompts) after the story, below word-count
PROMPTS
Carnevale
Every day I am new
The Unit
Jump off, stand there and gaze
Six Feet Under
and newspapers from vacant lots
The West Wing
the frozen daquiris, talk, smoke
It's not that I'm saying
lay your warm and gentle body next to mine
Who cares what they say of you? You're dead!
Parting is all we know of Heaven
I like you more than I would like; to have a cigarette
Somwhere in clouds
My little pony must think me queer
A Khan or two, a traveller
Axe
When I am even older, I will wear Lycra
An onion, hello?
Does the road wind uphill all the way?
Something stinks in the car
Sad, Dad and hopeless to know
PROMPTS
Carnevale
Every day I am new
The Unit
Jump off, stand there and gaze
Six Feet Under
and newspapers from vacant lots
The West Wing
the frozen daquiris, talk, smoke
It's not that I'm saying
lay your warm and gentle body next to mine
Who cares what they say of you? You're dead!
Parting is all we know of Heaven
I like you more than I would like; to have a cigarette
Somwhere in clouds
My little pony must think me queer
A Khan or two, a traveller
Axe
When I am even older, I will wear Lycra
An onion, hello?
Does the road wind uphill all the way?
Something stinks in the car
Sad, Dad and hopeless to know
A Few Days to Warm-Up for the July Blast
News on the Blast
The excellent Eclectica Magazine will be taking a selection of Blast stories.
This week we are warming up with regular flash prompts and a writing-subs blast.
alx
The excellent Eclectica Magazine will be taking a selection of Blast stories.
This week we are warming up with regular flash prompts and a writing-subs blast.
alx
Sunday, 24 June 2007
als on a bad month, and keeping going
in terms of writing, this has been a bad month.
i've managed a story a week for primaries, weird range of scores as well, totally not what i expected - some 80s and some (well, one) 110s.
all three of these stories have been forced out with a deadline looming, and in all three cases i thought they were awful.
i've managed a couple of poems as well, and i'm starting to enjoy the process of writing a poem. but again, i'm far from happy with the finished things. at thirty-six, i still don;t know how to write a poem like i didn;t know how to write a poem at sixteen.
subs are down too. i've managed three subs. that's poor. i had a target of ten, and i've got a target of twenty for the july blast. so three, that's just not going to cut it.
i had a hit early on this month, low level ezine. buoyed me up for a few days. it got published straight off, then i had a poem published in a small print mag, so again - a little feel good factor. but they're low level things. just enough to keep things ticking over, but nothing more than that.
also, i've got some stuff out there that i'm starting to fret about - waiting on the results, hoping for a biggish hit. i hate that. i want to just send stuff out and forget about it, let the hit be a surprise.
worst of all is the word count. i'm at less than 7000 for the month i think. rubbish.
so ,blah blah blah, the point of my miserable little rant is this:
keep going.
a bad month's a bad month, and I can feel sorry for myself all i want. but there's a blast coming up. i can either give up, or get my head down, squeeze out some words, get the juices going by DOING not by wondering why i'm uninspired.
managed a poem today. also, read quite a bit. critted three stories.
keeping going...
the story i forced out for primaries, which i came so close to not posting 'cos i thought it was so awful is actually not being totally trashed.
keeping going...
i've got almost twenty pieces floating around, subbed here and there, one of them is bound to hit.
keeping going...
i'm thinking about doing the 'page a day' thing on a novel, just to see.
keeping going...
so if there's anyone else reading this who's having a bad month writing wise, i sympathise, empathise.
but keep going.
a really bad month is the one where you stop writing for good.
i've managed a story a week for primaries, weird range of scores as well, totally not what i expected - some 80s and some (well, one) 110s.
all three of these stories have been forced out with a deadline looming, and in all three cases i thought they were awful.
i've managed a couple of poems as well, and i'm starting to enjoy the process of writing a poem. but again, i'm far from happy with the finished things. at thirty-six, i still don;t know how to write a poem like i didn;t know how to write a poem at sixteen.
subs are down too. i've managed three subs. that's poor. i had a target of ten, and i've got a target of twenty for the july blast. so three, that's just not going to cut it.
i had a hit early on this month, low level ezine. buoyed me up for a few days. it got published straight off, then i had a poem published in a small print mag, so again - a little feel good factor. but they're low level things. just enough to keep things ticking over, but nothing more than that.
also, i've got some stuff out there that i'm starting to fret about - waiting on the results, hoping for a biggish hit. i hate that. i want to just send stuff out and forget about it, let the hit be a surprise.
worst of all is the word count. i'm at less than 7000 for the month i think. rubbish.
so ,blah blah blah, the point of my miserable little rant is this:
keep going.
a bad month's a bad month, and I can feel sorry for myself all i want. but there's a blast coming up. i can either give up, or get my head down, squeeze out some words, get the juices going by DOING not by wondering why i'm uninspired.
managed a poem today. also, read quite a bit. critted three stories.
keeping going...
the story i forced out for primaries, which i came so close to not posting 'cos i thought it was so awful is actually not being totally trashed.
keeping going...
i've got almost twenty pieces floating around, subbed here and there, one of them is bound to hit.
keeping going...
i'm thinking about doing the 'page a day' thing on a novel, just to see.
keeping going...
so if there's anyone else reading this who's having a bad month writing wise, i sympathise, empathise.
but keep going.
a really bad month is the one where you stop writing for good.
Wednesday, 20 June 2007
The BC July Blast
We had a "blast" in July 2006 where most of the members went on a writing spree, flashes, stories, a few poems, and a greta effort to submit asap.
The productivity during blasts is amazing, and the quantity is not at the expense of quality. Hit rates RISE. There's something about the energy, the pressure, the community drive that seems to inspire everybody.
We will be posting a set of flash prompts Weekdays at
06:00
07:55
13:00
18:00
20:00
22:00
On the weekends we will post prompts at
08:00
11:00
14:00
17:00
20:00
Each of us will set himself a personal target for the month, word-coun, number of flashes, number of stories, subs.
We will tie up with a good-quality ezine : in the past this has been Eclectica Magazine and all flashes will get brief feedback in BC.
In the past these "blasts" have been joined by a few non-Boot Campers.
If you are interested post a comment here (they go via moderation)
alx
The productivity during blasts is amazing, and the quantity is not at the expense of quality. Hit rates RISE. There's something about the energy, the pressure, the community drive that seems to inspire everybody.
We will be posting a set of flash prompts Weekdays at
06:00
07:55
13:00
18:00
20:00
22:00
On the weekends we will post prompts at
08:00
11:00
14:00
17:00
20:00
Each of us will set himself a personal target for the month, word-coun, number of flashes, number of stories, subs.
We will tie up with a good-quality ezine : in the past this has been Eclectica Magazine and all flashes will get brief feedback in BC.
In the past these "blasts" have been joined by a few non-Boot Campers.
If you are interested post a comment here (they go via moderation)
alx
Wednesday Prompts
That's why the warning light comes on
Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
Once again I have missed you by moments
The sound of one hand slapping
Which reminds me
General Studies, Upper Sixth, a Doddle
White-faced soldiers
Playing leapfrog
But he did for them all with his plan of attack
Driving Back
Re-inventing the telescope
How wind will always find the cracks
Time, Water
Tommy won't eat his broccoli
Or you may wish to read more widely
This examination may be terminal
I am waiting in the shadows at the dark end of a lonely street
Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
Once again I have missed you by moments
The sound of one hand slapping
Which reminds me
General Studies, Upper Sixth, a Doddle
White-faced soldiers
Playing leapfrog
But he did for them all with his plan of attack
Driving Back
Re-inventing the telescope
How wind will always find the cracks
Time, Water
Tommy won't eat his broccoli
Or you may wish to read more widely
This examination may be terminal
I am waiting in the shadows at the dark end of a lonely street
Tuesday, 19 June 2007
100
And the 100th is reached.
BB gets 99, and AK himself makes the hit that takes us into three figures for 2007.
Roll on 200, some time in late October, I'd guess...
BB gets 99, and AK himself makes the hit that takes us into three figures for 2007.
Roll on 200, some time in late October, I'd guess...
Wednesday, 13 June 2007
98! 99? 100?
TomC records our 98th hit of the year with an acceptance at Defenestration.
Roll on Numbers 99 and 100
Roll on Numbers 99 and 100
Monday, 11 June 2007
Monday Prompts
From somewhere, the sound of dancing
No blood is flowing, just red birds
Hitler was a British Agent
As if a fire was flickering gently
They bring us crushed fingers
Pigeons
A thousand years ago, the angels say
She climbed to the third floor
Her last words wandered across the ceiling
She glanced up from her creaking rocking-chair
The children work hard
Your return is overdue
Day has cast anchor in the shadows
I have heard the sobbing of angels
Two thousand cigarettes
Now I will change water into wine
A lady lonely as a rat
Birdcages flew open
No fiery writing on the wall
Mad New Zealanders
Above the fields the wires hissed like iguanas
In the name of the father, the son and the holy bank.
No blood is flowing, just red birds
Hitler was a British Agent
As if a fire was flickering gently
They bring us crushed fingers
Pigeons
A thousand years ago, the angels say
She climbed to the third floor
Her last words wandered across the ceiling
She glanced up from her creaking rocking-chair
The children work hard
Your return is overdue
Day has cast anchor in the shadows
I have heard the sobbing of angels
Two thousand cigarettes
Now I will change water into wine
A lady lonely as a rat
Birdcages flew open
No fiery writing on the wall
Mad New Zealanders
Above the fields the wires hissed like iguanas
In the name of the father, the son and the holy bank.
Sunday, 10 June 2007
Sunday prompts
They had made love earlier, in the big high bed
Paris from my window
Looking over the polaroids
Once upon a time there was sex and death
About New York
Two for the price of three
In the spaces between the parrots and the fruit trees
I open my skull to your gaze
In my dream my brother gave away a screenplay
The Life & Death of a Pork Chop
Maybe one day I'll have three children, one of each
I said, "Look, this is my house."
The Empire of Child
Your body, I remember, stained my big cream bed
What My Dad Thought of Church
Grey on Grey, Black Upon Black
My mother is downstairs with a saxophone player
Paris from my window
Looking over the polaroids
Once upon a time there was sex and death
About New York
Two for the price of three
In the spaces between the parrots and the fruit trees
I open my skull to your gaze
In my dream my brother gave away a screenplay
The Life & Death of a Pork Chop
Maybe one day I'll have three children, one of each
I said, "Look, this is my house."
The Empire of Child
Your body, I remember, stained my big cream bed
What My Dad Thought of Church
Grey on Grey, Black Upon Black
My mother is downstairs with a saxophone player
Saturday, 9 June 2007
Back? Well, sort of...
I got ahead wordcount-wise last month, and boy do I need that start.
I need to find 25,500 words this month and my brain is mush. I have the head-sensation of a hangover (but not drinking) and I'm completely out of ideas (and not in the mood.) A ton of paperwork, too and a fair few rejections were in the post. Joy!
My head is simply not right, so in all probability I'll crack on with all the domestic, non-writing stuff today and Sunday, then hope to hit the writing hard come Monday.
Trouble is that will be 11th, leaving 19 days (if I don't miss 1-2) to write that 25,500. Plus I have a 4K Open University Essay to write by the 21st and then another due around July 20th
But there again that's just 1,500 words a day. is that so hard?
Looking at Boot Camp hits this year it's interesting how we have stepped up the paper/web ratio to almost exactly 50%. There are a few exceptions, (both ways) but generally paper is a tougher market. I know 2-3 BCers are aiming higher this year and the higher you aim the slower the hits come, but that's a necessary part of upping your game.
Anyway, right now getting that 30K this month looks and feels like a toughie. If I miss out, it's good to remember that I have already written 93K in 3 months
alx
I need to find 25,500 words this month and my brain is mush. I have the head-sensation of a hangover (but not drinking) and I'm completely out of ideas (and not in the mood.) A ton of paperwork, too and a fair few rejections were in the post. Joy!
My head is simply not right, so in all probability I'll crack on with all the domestic, non-writing stuff today and Sunday, then hope to hit the writing hard come Monday.
Trouble is that will be 11th, leaving 19 days (if I don't miss 1-2) to write that 25,500. Plus I have a 4K Open University Essay to write by the 21st and then another due around July 20th
But there again that's just 1,500 words a day. is that so hard?
Looking at Boot Camp hits this year it's interesting how we have stepped up the paper/web ratio to almost exactly 50%. There are a few exceptions, (both ways) but generally paper is a tougher market. I know 2-3 BCers are aiming higher this year and the higher you aim the slower the hits come, but that's a necessary part of upping your game.
Anyway, right now getting that 30K this month looks and feels like a toughie. If I miss out, it's good to remember that I have already written 93K in 3 months
alx
Catch Up 2 - Some Prompts
Break, Blow, Burn
We left before I had time
A Life in Litters
Spineless and eyeless we spend our days
In Defence of the Bastards
A wooden table, a vase of flowers
Number One in Heaven
It seemed the obvious place to go
The Odd Tunnel in Paris
Too pale for these cloud-breached days
Panning for Gold
You ask what I think of your new acquisition?
A Viking Writes Home
From the Direktor Domestic & General Functions
Tell me I'm beautiful, bring me flowers
I came at night to the dark house
The same scene fifty times
Toute-suite or Double-Quick?
We left before I had time
A Life in Litters
Spineless and eyeless we spend our days
In Defence of the Bastards
A wooden table, a vase of flowers
Number One in Heaven
It seemed the obvious place to go
The Odd Tunnel in Paris
Too pale for these cloud-breached days
Panning for Gold
You ask what I think of your new acquisition?
A Viking Writes Home
From the Direktor Domestic & General Functions
Tell me I'm beautiful, bring me flowers
I came at night to the dark house
The same scene fifty times
Toute-suite or Double-Quick?
Starting to Catch Up
08 BC Stories while I was away
10-25 (Crits-Discussion Posts)
09-10
08-63
08-37
08-19
08-13
08-10
08-09
67 Full Critiques (08.38 Average)
186 Discussion Posts (23.25 Average)
05 Stories in today's primaries (14-21 so far)
=======================================
Up to 97 Hits for the year.
Most recent
JUNE
091 TomC story in Ballista (Print)
092 Alex places collection at Salt (Print)
093 Jason Jackson places at six sentences
094 NW places at six sentences
095 Tom places at Underground Voices $30
096 Amy places at six sentences
097 Jason Jackson places at Smokelong
14 Members placed in 2007
02 Members unplaced
05 New members (unplaced)
2007 Publications Update
2007 PUBLICATIONS
January
001 Alex - The Internet Writing Journal - "The Long & the Short Of It"
002 Cedric - Eclectica - "Killing Bulls"
003 MJH - Eclectica - "Geoff Says Farewell"
004 Kenneth Shand - Eclectica - "Ramirez"
005 Cedric - Eclectica - "The Year of the Card Player"
006 MJH - Eclectica - "The Undressing of Ursula"
007 Caroline - Poetry Monthly "Snowdrops" paper
008 Alex - Poetry Monthly "On Greenham III" Paper
009 Alex - Southern Ocean Review "The Ghost in the Latrine" Paper/Web
010 Tom - article at Johnny America
011 Lexie - lead story in Earlyworks paper anthology
012 Chrissie - "Mummy Says" in QWF (Print Journal)
013 Jason Jackson in Scottish Print Mag "Raw"
014 TomC in American Drivel (Paper Mag)
015 Caroline in February Poetry Monthly (Print)
016 Cally published by Espresso Fiction ($30)
017 Lee published at Sussuruss
018 Cally in Slingink Anthology (paper
019 TomC in Sligink Anthology (paper)
020 TomC at Peccary (webzine)
021 Colin First Prize-Winner published at Cadenza (Paper)
022 Caroline, two poems in "Seventh Quarry" ("one pub")
023 TomC article at Johnny America (web)
024 Nightwriter at Flashquake
025 Tom C at Laughter Loaf
026 Colin at Heavyglow
027 Alex in Poetry Monthly
028 Caroline in Poetry Monthly
029 Cally at Chick Flicks
030 CLT at Smokebox
031 Tom at Glass Fire
032 TomC podcast at Bound Off
033 Alex at LitBits
034 TomC at LitBits
035 Alex in Gold Dust
036 JJ in Pen Pusher
037 Caroline, two poems in Southern Ocean Review
038 Jason Jackson in Poetry Monthly
039 Lexie in H E Bates Anthology (1)
040 Lexie in H E Bates Anthology (2)
041 CLT in Word Riot
042 Alex in Espresso Fiction ($30)
043 Tom in Transmission (Print)
044 JPM in Thieves Jargon
Individual Totals (Web-Paper-Total)
007-003-010 Tom
003-004-007 Alex
001-005-006 Caroline
001-004-005 Colin
002-001-003 Cally
003-000-003 MJH
002-000-002 Cedric
001-000-001 Kenneth
000-002-003 Lexie
000-001-001 Chrissie
001-000-001 Lee
002-000-001 Claire
023-021-044 TOTAL
10-25 (Crits-Discussion Posts)
09-10
08-63
08-37
08-19
08-13
08-10
08-09
67 Full Critiques (08.38 Average)
186 Discussion Posts (23.25 Average)
05 Stories in today's primaries (14-21 so far)
=======================================
Up to 97 Hits for the year.
Most recent
JUNE
091 TomC story in Ballista (Print)
092 Alex places collection at Salt (Print)
093 Jason Jackson places at six sentences
094 NW places at six sentences
095 Tom places at Underground Voices $30
096 Amy places at six sentences
097 Jason Jackson places at Smokelong
14 Members placed in 2007
02 Members unplaced
05 New members (unplaced)
2007 Publications Update
2007 PUBLICATIONS
January
001 Alex - The Internet Writing Journal - "The Long & the Short Of It"
002 Cedric - Eclectica - "Killing Bulls"
003 MJH - Eclectica - "Geoff Says Farewell"
004 Kenneth Shand - Eclectica - "Ramirez"
005 Cedric - Eclectica - "The Year of the Card Player"
006 MJH - Eclectica - "The Undressing of Ursula"
007 Caroline - Poetry Monthly "Snowdrops" paper
008 Alex - Poetry Monthly "On Greenham III" Paper
009 Alex - Southern Ocean Review "The Ghost in the Latrine" Paper/Web
010 Tom - article at Johnny America
011 Lexie - lead story in Earlyworks paper anthology
012 Chrissie - "Mummy Says" in QWF (Print Journal)
013 Jason Jackson in Scottish Print Mag "Raw"
014 TomC in American Drivel (Paper Mag)
015 Caroline in February Poetry Monthly (Print)
016 Cally published by Espresso Fiction ($30)
017 Lee published at Sussuruss
018 Cally in Slingink Anthology (paper
019 TomC in Sligink Anthology (paper)
020 TomC at Peccary (webzine)
021 Colin First Prize-Winner published at Cadenza (Paper)
022 Caroline, two poems in "Seventh Quarry" ("one pub")
023 TomC article at Johnny America (web)
024 Nightwriter at Flashquake
025 Tom C at Laughter Loaf
026 Colin at Heavyglow
027 Alex in Poetry Monthly
028 Caroline in Poetry Monthly
029 Cally at Chick Flicks
030 CLT at Smokebox
031 Tom at Glass Fire
032 TomC podcast at Bound Off
033 Alex at LitBits
034 TomC at LitBits
035 Alex in Gold Dust
036 JJ in Pen Pusher
037 Caroline, two poems in Southern Ocean Review
038 Jason Jackson in Poetry Monthly
039 Lexie in H E Bates Anthology (1)
040 Lexie in H E Bates Anthology (2)
041 CLT in Word Riot
042 Alex in Espresso Fiction ($30)
043 Tom in Transmission (Print)
044 JPM in Thieves Jargon
Individual Totals (Web-Paper-Total)
007-003-010 Tom
003-004-007 Alex
001-005-006 Caroline
001-004-005 Colin
002-001-003 Cally
003-000-003 MJH
002-000-002 Cedric
001-000-001 Kenneth
000-002-003 Lexie
000-001-001 Chrissie
001-000-001 Lee
002-000-001 Claire
023-021-044 TOTAL
Friday, 8 June 2007
Three More Hits for Boot Camp!
A few hits to record:
"Angharad Honeybill" at Six Sentences
TomC accepted at at Underground Voices and gets $30
Jason Jackson accepted at Smokelong, somewhere I've never cracked
BC now on 97 Hits for the year
"Angharad Honeybill" at Six Sentences
TomC accepted at at Underground Voices and gets $30
Jason Jackson accepted at Smokelong, somewhere I've never cracked
BC now on 97 Hits for the year
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
Monday, 4 June 2007
Monday Morning Prompts
Failed Electrics
The Night of Execution
How to be a Domestic God
The Last Roman
Chalk Circles
Free my fingers
Smashing Butternut Squash
The Wasting Game
Moth Kisses
Understanding Melissa
A glass of water from my well
Death is within
The Night of Execution
How to be a Domestic God
The Last Roman
Chalk Circles
Free my fingers
Smashing Butternut Squash
The Wasting Game
Moth Kisses
Understanding Melissa
A glass of water from my well
Death is within
Sunday, 3 June 2007
'als' on the imperative of words, every day
i just spent saturday to thursday away from home, away from the computer, away from the 'net.
away from writing
i took my notebook, but i was with the family, parents, my wife, my son, friends i haven't seen in a while...
i didn't write a thing
i got back on late thursday, logged on to bc, set my usual targets for the coming month, and thought - right, tomorrow, back to it
i still haven't written a word
you see, i've fallen out of the habit
already, after less than a week, that blank screen looks more impossible to fill than it has in months
i've tried a few times
i've typed words, phrases, sentences - and i've deleted everything
awful
i've fallen out of the habit of thinking - ok the first words might be god awful, but keep going, keep going, keep going, because something, eventually, will stick
so i did my usual putting-off-writing exercises. i flicked around ezines looking for somewhere to sub to. i did other life-things.
i was fine while i was away, because i knew i was 'on a break' but now, these last three days, i've been miserable
i know i have to write, and i can't seem to do it
and i also know that it'll pass, because i've been here before, and i've finally put some words down, got that story out, or that poem, or that flash, and it's usually rubbish, but then the next one is ok, then the next better...
so, what i have to do is stop waiting for that moment when the words come back, and just sit down and write
this is a start. posting here. getting it out. typing words.
but the whole point is i think that i'm in this mess to start with cos i had some days off, where i fell out of the habit, and now i can't get back
i know this doesn't work for everyone, but i still think that 'words every day' is the way to go. because then it just becomes a habit. it becomes natural. at the minute, sitting down and writing a story, a poem, whatever, feels like the most unnatural thing in the world. but once i've done it again, it won't.
i know that 'words every day' is difficult, at times impossible. but so is writing. and at least to try to write every day, that feels like something worthwhile to me.
away from writing
i took my notebook, but i was with the family, parents, my wife, my son, friends i haven't seen in a while...
i didn't write a thing
i got back on late thursday, logged on to bc, set my usual targets for the coming month, and thought - right, tomorrow, back to it
i still haven't written a word
you see, i've fallen out of the habit
already, after less than a week, that blank screen looks more impossible to fill than it has in months
i've tried a few times
i've typed words, phrases, sentences - and i've deleted everything
awful
i've fallen out of the habit of thinking - ok the first words might be god awful, but keep going, keep going, keep going, because something, eventually, will stick
so i did my usual putting-off-writing exercises. i flicked around ezines looking for somewhere to sub to. i did other life-things.
i was fine while i was away, because i knew i was 'on a break' but now, these last three days, i've been miserable
i know i have to write, and i can't seem to do it
and i also know that it'll pass, because i've been here before, and i've finally put some words down, got that story out, or that poem, or that flash, and it's usually rubbish, but then the next one is ok, then the next better...
so, what i have to do is stop waiting for that moment when the words come back, and just sit down and write
this is a start. posting here. getting it out. typing words.
but the whole point is i think that i'm in this mess to start with cos i had some days off, where i fell out of the habit, and now i can't get back
i know this doesn't work for everyone, but i still think that 'words every day' is the way to go. because then it just becomes a habit. it becomes natural. at the minute, sitting down and writing a story, a poem, whatever, feels like the most unnatural thing in the world. but once i've done it again, it won't.
i know that 'words every day' is difficult, at times impossible. but so is writing. and at least to try to write every day, that feels like something worthwhile to me.
Saturday, 2 June 2007
Prompts From the Sun
Me and Cilla
The Life & Death of a Wind-Surfer
The Many Differences Between 96 and 116
The God Delusion
Forth Degree Burns
Adrienne! I've Told You Before; If You Must Use a Broom, Use it on the floor
Why Margaret Didn't
It Came from the Lagoon
Life of Galileo
In a Window, a Television
Green Shorts, Cold Tea
Aloe Vera
Listening to Old Beatles Songs
Google "Two masks"
A train is out of control heading for ten children. You can divert the train and save the children but will kill two nice old men. Yes, No?
The Life & Death of a Wind-Surfer
The Many Differences Between 96 and 116
The God Delusion
Forth Degree Burns
Adrienne! I've Told You Before; If You Must Use a Broom, Use it on the floor
Why Margaret Didn't
It Came from the Lagoon
Life of Galileo
In a Window, a Television
Green Shorts, Cold Tea
Aloe Vera
Listening to Old Beatles Songs
Google "Two masks"
A train is out of control heading for ten children. You can divert the train and save the children but will kill two nice old men. Yes, No?
Subs Targets Met Again
I knew I'd be away for the last 8 days of May and we were a long way short of our monthly subs target when i left, but I'm happy to note that for the third month in succession the subs target has been met and exceded.
It takes 6-20 weeks for the effect of this subbing to show, but it will show!
Well done gang.
Alex
It takes 6-20 weeks for the effect of this subbing to show, but it will show!
Well done gang.
Alex
Friday, 1 June 2007
Prompts for June 1st
City Slackers
When I woke up I was in a forest
Touched by an Angel
Stares on the Bus
Windburn
Muscles I didn't know I had
The Mystery of the Poisoned Wedding Cake
Guts for Garters
Go away until your bones are clean
Bells on Her Toes
Don't let's talk about being in love, OK?
My mother's old leather handbag
Ronaldinho's Ponytail
When I woke up I was in a forest
Touched by an Angel
Stares on the Bus
Windburn
Muscles I didn't know I had
The Mystery of the Poisoned Wedding Cake
Guts for Garters
Go away until your bones are clean
Bells on Her Toes
Don't let's talk about being in love, OK?
My mother's old leather handbag
Ronaldinho's Ponytail
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)