Tag: #amwritingfantasy

Short Story – For the love of the game. Part 1.

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Hello,

I hope you are well.

I started this short story during lockdown and finished it 6 months ago. It’s just shy of 2000 words long, so I’m going to post it in three parts.

It centres around a mid-thirties man named Richard. He is becoming slightly obsessed with the anniversary of a plane crash that happened in a park near him almost fifty years before. As he tries to get his friends interested, it becomes clear that he is using this to ignore some more pressing matters.

I’d appreciate your thoughts, and I’d be happy to return the favour. Apologies for grammar and punctuation errors this is a 3rd draft (I think)

Part One – Sunday the 12th December to Wednesday 15th December 2021

*

Sunday 12th December.

“Two football teams, playing on a Sunday morning at North Park almost fifty years ago, were tragically killed when a plane crashed into them. But, with each anniversary, it’s said that a dense fog covers the pitch, and from within you can hear them playing that fateful match. The fiftieth anniversary is next Sunday.”

“From within?” she said.

“Yeah. I thought it added something,” he said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes.

“Could you close the window? I hate the sound of cars from the main road.”  

“I quite like it,” he said before closing the window.

“You told me this already, Richard. I’m late to meet Lucas.”

“Stay a little longer. Please? We’ve spoken about the crash for months. You were interested….”

“I’m not interested now. Lucas thinks honouring something you’ve no link to is stupid.”

Richard stood up from his settee.

“And what do you think, Lucy?”

He waited for the answer as she looked at her phone, stood up as it buzzed a few times, and wrote a reply. 

“I don’t care. It’s stupid. You have no link to it, so why are you wasting your time, Dick.”

Richard walked to and opened his front door. Lucy’s eyes bulged before she regained her composure.

“We’ve been friends for years. In all that time, you’ve called me Dick once. And I told you then I didn’t like it, so you stopped. I don’t know who you are, Lucy,” Richard said as tears glossed over his eyes. 

“I have to go,” she said.

Lucy walked by Richard and out of the door.

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

She stopped halfway up the driveway for a moment before walking away.

*

Monday 13th December.

Richard strained to push the covers off him as he sat on the edge of his bed. He stretched his arms before taking a deep breath.

“The whole day to myself. Hmm… the sun does rise later,” he said looking out of his window through the blinds. The night sky was total, and stars were looking back at him. He checked his watch.

“I thought I dreamt that,” he said.

As he realised the whole day had disappeared, his bottom lip quivered. The tears began to flow as he got back under the covers.

*

Wednesday 15th December.

“Falling from the sky and crashing into and killing all twenty-two players contesting the season’s final game. No fans were in attendance due to an incident the week before. The managers and staff managed to get clear,” Richard said.

His friends smiled or raised an eyebrow over their video call. Richard clenched his fist out of sight.

“Look, mate, you’re better off without her. We’re glad you’re up and about,” a friend said.

Richard tried to get them interested but instead just listened to them. His fist unclenched as he began to join in. In no time, the call ended.

Richard smiled and went up to bed.

*

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The Hunt: Part 1.

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The monster slithered up the side of the building. One hunter climbed after, and another pursued on the ground. As it moved swiftly between the windows and ledges, the grounded hunter fired his gun, shattering concrete and glass around the target. The climbing hunter stopped and fired arrows from a balcony but did no better and shook his head as the monster disappeared onto the top of the roof.

“Watch your aim, Sam. Stick to the roof and push it towards me. I’m going to try and gain some distance on the target from the ground and catch it as it comes down. Keep it in your sights.” Shouted the grounded hunter.

“Oh, well done. Tell me to run across the roofs instead of on the ground. The harder option and one better for you, John, so you get all the attention. As usual. And keep it in my sights? Such a hard task to do, given that the target is twelve feet long and half that wide.” Bellowed Sam as he planted his feet on the roof and caught sight of the lizard. He quickly fired an arrow, which shaved the side of its head. The lizard stopped on the edge of the rooftop and hissed down at the ground below. Its head bent right around, and it roared at the hunter before leaping across to the next building and landing awkwardly.

“Wind your neck in, Sam. You know I’m not much of a jumper. You excel at such things. We need to catch him.”

“Him? IT more like. And wind my…wind your neck in Johnny boy. And get rid of that smegging bag. It only slows you down.”

“I’ll get you for that Sam. Or should I say, Samwise.” John shouted as he disappeared from Sam’s view. Sam gritted his teeth, and one hand moved naturally onto his stomach. When he realised, he removed it and extended his spear. After five significant steps, he vaulted across to continue the pursuit.

The wind began to make his eyes water as Sam moved between the various obstacles on top of the building. A head followed by a long, greenish-black tail whipped up and down not far in front of him. The lizard slipped and favoured his back-right leg, and Sam saw his chance. He vaulted forward and as he landed the tail of the beast flew across his face, narrowly missing his nose but catching his spear and snapping it in half. Sam was now within a few feet and leapt to grab hold of the creature’s tail, which whip-like smacked him on the head. The lizard spun around and head-butted him in the chest, sending Sam thudding down onto his back. The lizard hesitated for a moment before moving towards the edge of the roof. Sam dragged himself across and watched as it scurried down the side of the building and weaved between ledges and windows. Debris started to fly in all directions and began to rain down onto the people below who rapidly started to scream and run. He glanced to the side to see John running to keep the chase alive.

The Editing Beast.

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Hello,

I’m currently in the process of editing a 1,000-word story for my first competition entry of the year. The competition is run by Writers Online (https://www.writers-online.co.uk/writing-competitions/open-competitions/writers-competitions-wro-wro-jun17-1000/) and the only requirement is that you do not exceed the word limit. No specific theme. Just a word count.

Now, I have previously tried to enter this competition but came unstuck as writing a story with such a small word count is tricky for me. That is until I read a recent competition winner through Writing Magazine. The story was for a Fantasy competition and was 1,642 words but managed to tell the story very well and kept me hooked till the end. Yes, it is more than 1,000 words, but it is a fine example of using your words well. See for yourself (https://www.writers-online.co.uk/writing-competitions/showcase/winner/writers-competitions-wro-wro-nov16-fantasy/dominic-bell-2).

Anyway, this has given me the confidence to try and enter the 1,000-word competition again. I found my original attempt from way back and read it through. Not bad but with a few problems and I didn’t like the end. However, I could see promise in it. So, I changed the ending and completed a re-write. Then, came the next step.

Oh, the edit. The beast that awaits at the end of most stories. The question I find myself asking is, should I feed it or let it starve? I decided to feed the beast and it just keeps wanting more! Every time I go back to my story thinking I am close to finishing it, something else comes up and I edit even more. How much does it need to be fed before it is satisfied and will let me enter the competition?

The_Beast

In my head, this is how it looks. But, it is the Beast from Disney’s Beauty and the so it’s not that bad of a picture to have in my head at the moment. Moving on…

I am happy to continue with the edit, even if it winds me up no end. I have faith in my story. I like it and want to see it through. That is what drives me forward. Regardless of the outcome of the competition (don’t get me wrong, I would like to win) I want this to be the best it can be.

With this story, it has a twist at the end. I have written twists before and have recently watched a few TV programmes and Films with twists to whet my appetite. I am trying to put some red herrings in and some double meanings. Easy a? In my head maybe but in practice, not so much. Making sure each sentence drives the story is essential but 1,000 words do not allow for a lot of driving. Once the story is written and I know how I got on in the competition, I’ll post it on this blog. Or burn it. I’ll make the decision later.

Since the last time I had to edit for a competition, which was for ages ago, I have learned a lot more and I am thankful that my persistence appears to be paying off. Things I left in the first draft, thinking they were gold, made me shudder and have been discarded. Practice does help a lot with this writing game.

Well, back to the edit. I hope you have a nice day and if you are editing, that it goes as well as possible for you.

Bye!

 

They did warn us after all.

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(Extract from a story I recently completed. It is about giant Rock Worms from outer space looking for a new home. And Earth might just be what they are looking for…)

“Maria? Are you okay?” Shouted Joseph, inside the mass of rubble and chaos that a rock worm had caused just minutes before. Their former office was slowly crumbling around them he rose to his feet with a shake and a moan. He stood and checked that he had his wallet, phone, and keys without realising they were not of much use anymore. The internet on his phone did not work and he jabbed and pressed until giving up. He heard something rustle not too far away and remembered Maria could be in danger. His fingers caught in the rip at the side of his green hoodie and he cursed under his breath. Numerous small cuts covered both of hands and only now did he notice the dull pain they produced. He took a step forward and what remained of the building swayed underfoot.

“Joseph…I’m here.” Maria said. He turned quickly and felt the floor buckle again. Her pixie cut brown hair was the only thing above the rubble. She struggled and managed to stand up and dust herself off. They both turned to see a huge gap in the wall nearby. They both moved towards it but again the structure moved. Joseph held out his hand and counted slowly down from five. Maria took quick breaths to ready herself.

Sprinting over the broken wood and pieces of rock, they jumped out and onto the pile of debris outside. They managed to run down the pile before jumping as far away from the building as possible. The small quake ran through the floor as the building died in front of them.

“How are you feeling? You know…considering.” Joseph said. Maria jumped into his arms and kissed his neck. She pulled away as he winced in pain.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” She said.

“Don’t be sorry Maria, I can be the man you want me to be. That girl from the bar, I was just talking to her.”

“How can you be thinking about that? Look around you. The world is coming to an end and you’re still fixed upon something I told you I wasn’t bothered about.”

“I was only talking to her about the football that day…”

“Just….stop. Be quiet. We need to figure out what to next. Are you okay?” She said. Touching a few of many small cuts on his neck and hands.

“If they were all one cut, they would match that beauty on your neck.” He replied. Moving her shirt collar down slightly. “It looks worse than it is. Not too deep at all.”

“It doesn’t feel that bad. It will make a cool scar.” She said.

“I bet. Maria, I am not that selfish. And I have looked around me. Look at all the rock worms have done. Bloody government, why not just give them a home? They may have been helpful to us as well. I hear some of them are fiercely intelligent.” He said as he surveyed the piles of concrete, brick, glass, plastic and whatever else that made a building forming small mountains across the landscape. The mid-morning bright and clear sky showed Manchester for what it has become. Many buildings were still intact but more were reduced to rubble. No traffic or trains could be heard, which allowed them to listen to their own heartbeats with clarity.