Cheryl Burman's Blog: Blog posts for readers and writers, page 19

He read at a pirate party

Long John Silver took a fancy to him when the pirates raided the ship en route to the new plantations in the Caribbean. The Lord had obviously saved him for a greater purpose, which was appropriate given his pastoral calling.

‘A man of God, hey?’ The pirate captain smirked, reaching out to caress the reverend’s cheek with the blunt rounded edge of his iron claw.

‘Man of God, man of God,’ the parrot on the captain’s black-clothed shoulder squawked. The bird’s yellow, green and blue plumage gle...

Tower Bridge and the sea picture prompt

The change had been gradual. Heat building, day by day, month by month. The scorched earth cracked, swallowing London one, two, three buildings at a time. The occupants of the office blocks, wine bars, theatres, museums, and mews dwellings fled long ago. So long ago that these days you could drive the 188 kilometres of the M25 in two hours – assuming you had fuel of some sort.

Some perverse mood made him stay, camped in his office. After all, he’d spent more time here over the years than in ...

The kid was in trouble

Addie spotted him in the supermarket queue, pretending he wasn’t with the woman who must be his mother going by their twin chestnut curls (hers with first streaks of grey), wide eyes and generous lips. Addie grinned, shyly, and the boy startled, blushed, and – this was the odd part – gave his mother a quick worried glance.

The woman frowned. The gaze she turned on Addie melted her grin like cheese under a hot grill. Addie tossed her hair back and placed her two bananas, pack of four yoghurts and ...

As soon as the ship had sailed…

As soon as the ship had sailed… Mara danced a little (sailor’s) jig of joy on the balcony overlooking the harbour. They were gone, the four of them. She had the rented cottage and the weekend to herself. She gave a final exaggerated wave, to ensure her husband and sons had their last-for-now glimpse of her thinking of them, wishing them well. And she did, she did!

The male bonding fishing trip had been her idea. Two weeks on holiday in the sweet Cornish fishing village had stretched her tole...

End of the road picture prompt

A picture prompt this time. What’s happening here?

The scene gave new – and literal – meaning to the phrase ‘come to the end of the road’. He turned his back to the burnt-out car, not wanting to go there, not yet, and faced the dry grass of the endless fields. The weight in his chest anchored him to the crumbling asphalt. A sliver of solace was to be found in the silent brown landscape which had been his only company for days, weeks. While the landscape had unfolded around him, he had been...

Christmas at Hummingbird House by Jane Harvey

Jane Harvey’s Christmas tale is a delight for her many fans of the residents of Hummingbird House and their inter-related lives. We recognise all our friends here, behaving as they do with their distinctive natures. Especially the brilliant Betty who is rapidly becoming a role model for all us oldies. Love the fact she now uses her phone for her lists (me too, Betty!)

While we wrap ourselves in Christmas nostalgia, the core of the story is the wonderful and on point presents our friends are ...

Trapped in the milky unreality of the fog

Trapped in the milky unreality of the fog, Millie’s new love met its first challenge.

It had been an adventure at first, cloistered in the alpine hut. As they reached their planned destination that first evening, the fog was settling with the evening darkness. Millie congratulated herself on her excellent timing, her bouoyant mood raised when she found the fire set, dried logs heaped in a wooden basket and more in a shelter behind the hut.

In the tiny kitchen space, a row of tins graced a shelf,...

She discovered the love letters by chance

To explain: On occasion, when the brain isn’t sparking, I put the prompt into ChatGPT and ask for ideas – it’s quicker than asking my husband although not as good.
This time, I added in the need to have a cat or dog in the story – give the AI a challenge.
Instead of ideas, it wrote me this little tale, which caused me to laugh out loud. I will give the AI credit for originality. Hope it brings a smile to your face too. Forgot the best – the AI titled this piece ‘Paws and Passion’.

Once upon a...

Pumpkin pangrattato

courtesy of Nigel Slater, Tender Vol 1 – a fave cookbook for years

For 4 as a side dish, 2-3 as a main (it reheats well)

1 kg pumpkin or butternut squash
3 cloves garlic
5 tbspn olive oil, plus a bit
mild red chilli
1 tbsp finely chopped rosemary leaves
zest of half an orange
handful of roughly chopped parsley (or coriander works too)
4 handfuls of fresh white breadcrumbs – I tore mine from a crusty white loaf, taking the crust off first
about 40 gm butter

Peel and deseed the squash and cut into ...

Using all five senses to immerse the reader

As writers, we tend towards language which visually describes our characters and the settings in which we place them. Imagery helps too, as in this sentence – describing washing on a line – from an unpublished short story of my own which a fellow author commented on as helping them visualise the scene.

‘The way that blouse shimmied in the breezes is how the beech leaves shimmer with the sun on ’em.’

But sight is not the only sense humans possess of course. There’s also hearing, taste, t...