The Voice In An Old Man’s Ear

I’ve not done a lot of writing lately. NaNo came and went without so much as a twitch from me in November. Winter has so far left me somewhat dyspeptic when it’s come to writing. But in the back of my head has lain the knowledge that next year my OU course stops focussing on the French element of my degree and shifts to the Creative Writing. And I’ll be expected to produce works in a variety of formats at prescribed times. Terrifying.

So when, rather out of the blue, my friend Jamie decided to throw down the gauntlet (yet again, it has to be said!) and have us a little challenge (possibly too strong a word …) whereby we share a picture that acts as inspiration for a piece of flash fiction (under 1000 words) for us both, it seemed like something that would a) pass the time, b) get some sort of juices flowing, and c) be a bit of fun!



Zero to Hero: DAY 11: GOOD NEIGHBOUR

Well, damn you Zero to Hero team.

Today’s assignment: leave comments on at least three blogs that you’ve never commented on before.

I read today’s post and I did it again. I groaned. I sighed. I grumped. I procrastinated.

I did it.

I learnt things.

I should know better by now.


I also managed to get incredibly annoyed by somebody else’s post. Not about religion. Not gay-bashing. Not anything that could be considered dangerous or reactionary. It was a review of a book. Which book and by which author really isn’t the point, but the blogger stated that the best thing you could do is to not read this particular book and go onto the next in the series. I was appalled. I clicked ‘Comment’ … and then after a couple of minutes decided to close it and search for something else because I wasn’t sure that I could trust myself to not either a) go off on a rant, or b) abide by good ‘netiquette’. Good neighbour? Hmm.

But then I found a haiku and was reminded of when a colleague and I would write (predominantly nonsensical) haiku to each other, which then developed into collaborative renku (alternating verses of 17 and 14 morae [we agreed on equating morae with syllables in these instances]). Upon her last day at the office I presented her with a printed book of our verses, which made her cry (something she was determined not to do).

I shall endeavour to be of open heart in future.