Well blogging, we meet at last. I’ve had mixed feelings about the practice of blogging since I first heard of it and thought “Really? That’s the name you’re sticking with?” But it has finally reached a point where I think, well why not? Now I’ve never kept a blog, and I don’t actually know that much about them despite being part of “that generation” that should apparently have a manual of some sort in their brain for all basic computer programs and functions, in which case I don’t know if there’s some sort of formula to blog posts or some kind of blog management etiquette, but I’m sure I’ll figure things out. I only mention it so that if there are accidentally 20 posts in a row of the same thing or something you’ll be forewarned of the experimentation and learning period in progress.

So, the theoretical point of this blog is to be somewhere for me to post things that I write. And I do mean ‘things’ because I tend to write short snippets of fiction, though sometimes there are short stories and such too. I suspect most of my posts will come from an intriguing book I have which is called ‘642 Things To Write About’. It’s simply a collection of short (anywhere from a couple of sentences to just a word) starter phrases designed to get you thinking and writing. For instance, “The greatness of sandwiches” or, “Go to a café and closely watch two people interact. Then write a scene about to people in a café” or “Create an imaginary friend (human or not)” (I have high hopes for a hedgehog being involved in this one), and so forth. As you can see, they’re diverse, so posts on here could be pretty random. Just the way we like it I say. I imagine there will also be some first-person posts from me, who can say? But when things come from “the book” I’ll use the prompt as the post heading and then my writing about it as the body of the post (I say confidently, like I’ve already mastered my heading/post functions).

I’m not sure yet how often I will post something because I’m not sure yet how this blog and I will feel about one another, but I will try to post with reasonable frequency because, really, it’s just stagnating and taking up space in the ether otherwise. That being said, welcome to my blog invisible people!

Tuesday, 31 July 2012

You've just realized that you've lost something valuable in a nightclub (a necklace, a wallet, a phone). What happens next?

Shit. I can't believe I left my phone...where would I have put it down? I was dancing, then I went to get a drink and sat on that bench tucked back in the corner... then I checked the time on my phone... it must be there, it might still be there, I mean it's kinda tucked away. "No, excuse me, I just have to get back in for a minute, I left my phone. Yes, here look, I have a stamp! Thanks."

Damn, it's not here. "Excuse me, have you seen a phone? I think I left it here... No?" "Bartender, hey! Hey, excuse me, has anyone turned in a phone? It's black and has... No? You're sure? Ok, thanks anyway..." Great, well I guess I know what I'm going shopping for tomorrow...

"Hello. Yes this is she. Yeah, I did, last night. Really? Fantastic! I can't believe someone actually found it! And tried to return it that is. Thanks so much, why don't we meet at the corner of Smith and Eighth, there's this great little coffee place called... Yeah, that's the one, you know it? Great, I'll see you there, thanks again!"

"Hey Mum, Dad, this is... what, do you know each other? How can you know each other, we've only been dating two months and I haven't...my phone?... Wait, so, when you found my phone you called the numbers in my contact list until you found someone who could give you my home phone number to call so you could return it, and you chatted to people along the way, ending with my Mum? Wow, that's...really sweet actually. A little creepy too maybe, sure, but sweet. Thank you."
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Thursday, 26 July 2012

Tell a story that begins with a ransom note...


The ransom note arrived the way any other piece of mail might. It appeared in the mailbox on a Monday morning in a plain white envelope with a blue stamp. I never liked Mondays. Who does? But this white envelope, with its blue stamp...this one contained a life. The words on the single sheet of paper in the white envelope with the blue stamp detailed the two directions a life could go. It could go on, or it could stop. The terms of this direction were what you would expect, lots of money. Cliché, but what else were they going to ask for? No one barters a life for an endless supply of avocados or a good parking space in the city. It always has to be lots of money, they'll decide what to do with it later. So really, the price of a person's life has not been set in this moment, its worth will be determined later in quantities of yachts in the Caribbean, seaside villas, or fast cars and friendly company perhaps? But it never goes that far. It never comes to that. People in exotic locales translating the worth of a stranger's life into material goods and services. From the words on the single sheet of paper, in the plain white envelope with the blue stamp a counter plan will be hatched. Professionals will do what they do best, money will stay in bank accounts, and the life in the envelope will go on being lived, they'll be home by Wednesday. I always liked Wednesdays.
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