Flash Fiction No. 42


A Watery Betrayal

Thunder crackled low on the horizon above a shimmying curtain of rain. The water gurgled, speeding towards the overflowing drains and spilling back onto the pavement. Her hood dripped into her vision, skewing shapes. The city smoked away on the horizon.

They’d arranged to meet an hour ago. She checked her watch. Maybe something had happened to him.

Her gaze shifted out to sea once more, absorbing the hard paddle of rain against the waves. It kicked up the stench of seaweed and brine into the otherwise fresh air. Hands twisted in her pockets. How much longer did she have to wait?

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In Need Of Some Advice


Recently, I’ve been toying with the idea of ebooks. I have three fully written novels ranging from 87k to 120k words and they are hiding somewhere in my computer with their fourth partially written counterpart and the plans for the following instalments. It will probably do me a disservice to mention that I started writing these when I was fifteen (just six short years ago), but they have been through quite rigorous editing, I assure you.

I’ve tried querying the series before (mostly when I admit I was too naive to understand the query process) but with no success. My more recent queries, at least, were a little more experienced, but still no change in the response they received.

Perhaps this is because I’m just not very good at querying or perhaps it’s because my story is too much like too many others or maybe my writing style just isn’t likeable enough or agents have far too many queries to take anything from mine. And since those lacklustre responses to my queries, I’ve realised that I may never get Jo’s story published in through traditional routes.

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Flash Fiction No. 14

#Flashfiction statement provided by Louise Murray via Facebook.

Friendships – when one pushes the self destruct button and the effect on the other person.

Invincible Girl took off her cape. She folded it neatly into its box and then stood preening in front of the mirror. Her eyes passed over the small shadow in the background of her reflection but she took no notice; her hair was out of place and it needed to be readjusted. She leaned closer to the glass, reapplying lip gloss to her super pout.

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Crammed Cramped Mind

As the title suggests, my mind is a bit full right now. Unfortunately, unlike Dumbledore, I don’t have a penseive in which to syphon off my many thoughts. Most of my thoughts are either silly analytical waltzes like my post on the sun and the moon etc or they’re anxieties that I hold. Right now it’s these anxieties that I am going to have to write out of me.

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