Does psychology help writing?
see my views on whether psychology has helped or hindered my life as a writer:
go to:
HOPE
(Stories from a Refuge) by Stuart and Rosie Larner writing as Rosy Stewart
The stories are told through the eyes of Sue Barlow, manager of a womens' refuge. Support systems and policing are not always enough to prevent a tragedy.
People don't want to be victims. They want justice.
Wednesday, 16 December 2015
Wednesday, 9 December 2015
"Diaoraphragm"
The storyteller recounts the titanic struggle between arch enemies Fred Glover and John Loggarforth in a "Call My Bluff" pub quiz. A thrilling tale of psychological insight.
read my story in
"Making Waves"
2015 anthology by
Scarborough Writers Circle.
A compendium of fiction, flash fiction, and poetry from the members.
Diaoraphragm
Let’s
sit here in the corner, out of the way of the darts board. I like a nice log
fire in a pub, don’t you? Faint smell of smoke, like campfires of the past.
Feel the warmth on you on a winter’s night like this. Dark beer with bitter
hops. Cheers. Ah, that hits the spot. Beautiful.
So,
you’re writing an obituary on Fred Glover for the paper, and you want a
personal angle. What can I tell you about him? I suppose you’ve got all that
stuff about him being a champion fell-runner, his services to charity, and his
medal? That’s why it came as a shock to us all. Fit bloke like that. Sudden,
just as he was breasting the tape. Makes you think.
Fred
was a freelance survival expert, trained in the army. He had appeared on TV a
few times. Shaven-headed, extremely fit. Forty-eight years old. He was away for
long periods leading training courses, and his motto was ‘Always to the end.’
I
went out for a short walk in the country with him once, just from one pub down
to the next. By goodness, he had a fast stride on him. After only a dozen
yards, I was struggling to keep up. He said, ‘There’s probably a mountain
rescue jeep round this bend that can give you a lift.’
I
thought he was joking. I asked him how he knew, and whether it was a usual
parking space for them.
‘No.
Something’s just run over a rabbit round there and it’s probably the rescue
jeep.’
I was amazed. How did he know there was a dead
rabbit round a bend a hundred yards away out of sight? Had he been there
earlier this morning?
..........................................
read the whole of my story in"Making Waves"
2015 anthology by
Scarborough Writers Circle.
A compendium of fiction, flash fiction, and poetry from the members.
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