Success with a very strange little story

I may have been lazy recently but in November I submitted to four writing competitions. Still waiting for the results of three but I was very pleased to be a runner up in the November Darker Times short story competition.

You can see my story here http://www.darkertimes.co.uk/winners/ss-runner-up-2-nov-2012/ss-runner-up-3-nov-2012.aspx

No prize, but it's published on their site and will be published in a print and e-book Anthology early next year.

What I'm most pleased about is finally finding a home for a rather odd little story. It's historical, but not of interest to most outlets for historical fiction. It's got its horrific parts, but not enough to be of interest to most horror readers.

My poor little waif and stray of a tale found a home eventually with Darker Times. Take a look at their website for some very interesting fiction and poetry that goes beyond the classic horror genre. All they ask is that it is 'darker' in some way, not necessarily horror, and it's encouraging to find somewhere that isn't trying to place writing in a little restricted box.

My story? This was inspired by an exercise on research for the Open University A363 creative writing course. Ratcatchers was one of a list of topics we were sent off on a hunt about, and I ended up in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/London_Labour_and_the_London_Poor, increasingly horrified at the anecdotes of these Victorian ratcatchers, and determined to make a story out of it all. Spot Mr Jack Black and his belt on that Wiki page? (image below) That sure grabbed me straight away.

I've taken it a stage further and ended up with a radio play, using this short story as the subplot in a story, about a grandfather talking to a grandson who is about to leave for France in WW1.

If you are lost for inspiration then Mayhew's book - text available online - is a fantastic resource, full of the lives, work, worries, concerns, problems, crimes, families, joys, and triumphs of ordinary people often in what seems to us now, very bizarre situations. Whether you want to write historical fiction, or want to work these ideas into sci-fi, young adult, crime, thriller, romance...there's a huge amount to help trigger off your own muse.







Portrait of Jack Black

The Mummies on the Bus go chatter chatter chatter.

Yes, they do indeed, and here's a big thank you to them for providing me with lots of material to write about.

I've been commuting on the bus for the last year and it's been a far more inspiring experience than sitting in my car oblivious to anything but what is on the road in front of me. I've taken to making secretive little notes in a tiny red book, whipping it out and plonking down a few words to remind me of what I'm seeing, or hearing (or smelling on a few occasions), as a way of collecting ideas and material.

It's embarrassing to do this on the bus. People look at me, puzzled. Some are wary. I try not to be too obvious about it but sometimes forget my manners and stare. I only write in my little book if there is an empty seat next to me and no curious eyes to read over my shoulder. That might not be good for my health.

But it's a terrific place to pull in impressions and incidents. One of the pieces I wrote for the creative writing course I'm on started with looking at a rabble of teenage schoolboys on the bus, all trying to impress each other and the girls, swaggering around as 'big men', saying 'fuck' at every opportunity, but at the same time making fart jokes. I thought about how much simpler it was in the past when you were either a kid, or an adult, with none of this messing about in the middle and that lead on to a story that looked at growing up to adult responsibilities, and losing them again as we age.

I'm still looking for a way to use: the man wearing one of those joke baseball caps with drinking straws leading from attached beer-can to mouth, but who oddly had no drink installed; the woman who got on and asked if the bus went to X, was told yes, nodded her thanks and got off again; the driver who looks at everyone presenting a £10 note as if he wants to stab them through the eyes; the homes I'd always assumed were tiny bungalows but now see, from my higher viewpoint, as the top floors of four-storey buildings perching at the peak of a steep hill (a cliff?) that falls away from the road.

But best of all are the conversations. Whether it's caused by the increase in mobiles, reality TV, or a break-down in old-fashioned mores (who cares), people on the bus definitely talk more than they used to. They discuss the most personal and private events with no sign of embarrassment. Privacy is fast becoming an outdated concept. For those of us who want to write, this is a fantastic thing.

I've listened to an elderly man behind talking about his piles and getting folk-remedy recommendations. Two elderly ladies loudly and gleefully running through the scandal of a niece, the next-door neighbour and a broken promise. A couple sat and calmly debated whether they should continue with their affair; after he got off the bus at his stop, she got on her phone to a friend to denounce him as a wanker but a wanker with a big one and that's why she puts up with him. Teenagers will talk about anything.

So many stories…so little time. If you are stuck for inspiration, a trip on your local bus could be just what you need.