…And so it goes!

As many of you know, I decided a year ago to dedicate more time to my writing projects and would post up my progress, or lack of, as I go.

With that in mind, I would also like to talk about ‘missed opportunity‘.

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original image can be found atΒ www.rantlifestyle.com

I’ve been sitting on this idea for a magazine I love for about a year now. I knew it was perfect and I was looking forward to pitching it.

I’d already made contact with the magazine editor and she seemed open to viewing more of my ideas. The situation was primed.

The only problem – I couldn’t quite get the article down.Β 

I tinkered with it for a few weeks, then I’d put it aside for a few months thinking ‘I’ll come back to it later’.

I don’t know how many times I did this, but it’s safe to say that it was probably more than the current number of re-runs of ‘Come Dine with Me‘.

So I’m flicking through the latest copy of said magazine when I see a peek at next months articles. There in black and white bold print is not only my idea for an article, but it has my chosen title as well.

I stared at it for a few minutes in disbelief. All that played in my head was – that could’ve been me!

Hey, I’m a big believer in everything happens from the reason and I never like to pass up a situation without trying to learn something from it. Even if it is, I watch TV far too much (see original Come Dine with me comment).

I realised that ideas are around us all the time. You only have to reach up and seize it.

But if you don’t, somebody else will. Someone will be willing to work a little longer, or harder than you did. And they will make a success of your missed opportunity.

Now I’ll be committing that particular idea to the archive section of my computer, labelled ‘took too long and now I feel stupid’.

So, if the muse smiles upon you today and an idea happens to float past you, grab it with both hands and work on it now. Do it now. Don’t wait till tomorrow.

In the meantime, you’ll find me at the bar, downing whiskey and muttering in low tones about how I had a great idea once!

Happy Writing πŸ™‚

p.s. Another thing I learnt today – always back up your work. Because something will happen, such as child impaled on broom, and you will lose your entire post and have to start again, if it wasn’t for browser back up that is – phew!

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The one left behind – Friday Fictioneers

Due to unforseen events I was unable to join in last weeks Friday Fictioneers and I’ve been itching to get back to it since. So here’s my contribution to this weeks photo prompt. I hope you like it πŸ™‚

If you’d like to have a go, visit Rochelle’s page to see the prompt and write whatever comes to mind in no more than 100 words. Good Luck!

Ice crusted over the lense. Scrib chiselled at it, then wiped it away.

Silvery light hit the ground, shimmering like water. He warmed his hands and made his way to the next one.

After the great flood, everyone had left.

Everyone but Scrib.

He stayed to man the laboratories – monitering the rate of melt. This was his home and he wasn’t about to abandon her now.

He trudged to the next lab. The crunch of his snow shoes echoed in this white wilderness.

They said they’d return when the ice melted.

They said.

93 words

DESERTER – Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt

It’s Fiction day and another great choice from Rochelle. If you fancy taking part, take a look at the prompt on Rochelles page and write anything that comes to mind in 100 words or less.

Here’s mine. Hope you like it!

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PHOTO PROMPT – Β© Jennifer Pendergast

‘You’re sure no-one will look here?’ Felicity’s forehead wrinkled and Shona reached out and squeezed her hand.

‘No-one uses this part of the railroad anymore…promise.’

They heaved the sack onto the dusty carriage floor and pushed it into the corner. Shona wiped her hands down her corduroys.

‘What do I say when Mother asks where he’s gone?’ Felicity touched the freshly bruised skin and winced.

Shona planted a gentle kiss on the wound and smiled – moonlight glittering in her dark eyes.

‘Tell her he ran off with a girl from the carnival. She’s always hated the carnival.’

98 words

Safe House – Friday Fictioneers

It’s that time again, so here’s my contribution for this weeks prompt. If you fancy having a go at Friday Fictioneers pop over to Rochelle’s page and take a look. Good Luck πŸ™‚

This weeks photo is courtesy of Lauren Moscato

Martina sat on an upturned bucket. Broken glass shone like tiny pools of water spilt across the floor.

Her kingfisher ornament lay on its side with its head missing. The last reminder of her Grandmother seven years gone.

Her eyes welled with fresh tears and she wiped at them with a rough woollen sleeve.

Paul walked in, flushed from the cold night air. He lay the mallet against the wall and took a seat next to her. Kissing her trembling hands, he gave them a reassuring squeeze.

‘Don’t worry. No one’s getting in here again. I promise’

97 words