Cheryl Burman's Blog: Blog posts for readers and writers, page 27

‘Lost soles’

‘Lost soles’ and ‘I’d rather have a cup of tea’

(Cheated here and conflated two prompts, to catch up. Enjoy!)

If it hadn’t been snowing I wouldn’t have noticed. Ahead of me on the path, a woman walking. She wore a hooded cape which fell to her calves, and heavy boots.

Sensible attire for the weather and I wished, again, that capes would return to fashion. Perhaps this person never gave up wearing them, because the bent of her and her dependence on a tall wooden staff for steadiness suggest...

I sit on a window ledge …

I sit on a window ledge, high up in the tower. Behind me is the room I’m to spend the next three nights in. A beautiful circular room, its medieval stone walls hung with faded tapestries between dark-hued paintings of luscious fruit and the wives of wealthy merchants. The oak floor gleams with age and polish, and the huge bed invites snuggling with a book and tea. Yes, three nights will go quickly here.

But it’s what’s outside that really draws me. Below me in the near distance, red terracot...

Cat under an old moon: picture prompt

An old moon hinted at the winter dawn, its soft white luminescence sufficient for the cat to see by. Well, cats can see in the dark anyway, can’t they? I glimpsed him from the kitchen window as I stood there peering idly out, sipping my camomile tea with hopes of sleep.

A blue-black landscape, edged with white. And the black cat. I thought back to the sight of my neighbour earlier in the day. I had just pulled in to the weedy drive with my overladen truck, all my worldly goods transported ...

The Ransom for Ruth Reed KT McGivens

In the manner of Miss Marple, but younger, and more upper class, journalist Katie Porter bends her crime-solving skills to solving the kidnapping of her best friend, Ruth Reed. Is the kidnapping connected to the strange attacks taking place on women throughout the town? Are the teenage boys of the mysterious Cyrano Club involved? And who are these boys? Or perhaps it’s the long-standing Groundskeeper? Or, as Katie’s fiance suggests, the husband did it – it’s almost always the husband, you know.

...

Guest Dream Run: Use these three words

‘She will be our guest.’

Issy dared lift her gaze a fraction to view the elfin king. He sat on his carved oak throne, his leafy crown decorated with yellow, purple and pink wildflowers, high on his head. His white hair rippled in silken waves, long enough to drape over the arms of the throne. Butterflies and tiny birds fluttered about him while tiny woodland animals rested or played on the spreading velvet of his cloak which cascaded down the steps of the dais.

‘She will be our guest,’ the king sa...

The honeymoon was over

Her best friend hissed at her for days before the wedding. ‘Why are you marrying him?’ ‘He’s not a nice person.’ ‘Don’t do it.’

Sally ignored her. Her disapproval of Rob was a long term thing, no matter how hard he tried to charm her.

‘Why doesn’t she like me?’ he’d ask, hurt in his beautiful brown eyes.

Sally would shrug, kiss him on his gorgeous cheek and say, ‘Jealous, I guess. She’d like you for yourself.’

And he would grimace, as if the thought was distasteful. And Sally would laugh.

The da...

It’s the first day in the new job and

It’s the first day in the new job and Marian is rushing to be on time. She left home when she should have, but even so she ended up running very late. Very late indeed.

She had woken at 6 am, stumbled out of bed and into the shower, where five minutes later she conceded she might be able to face the day. She should be excited, it being the first day in a new job. She isn’t. She doesn’t want this job. Working in an office poring over spreadsheets all day. That isn’t what life is supposed to be abo...

Four guidelines for effective use of research in your novel

What this post is and is not

Four guidelines for effective use of research in your novel is not concerned with how to go about doing your research. There’s lots of help out there about that. What this post is about is how that research gets translated into our novels to create feasible, authentic worlds and characters in which readers become immersed – without feeling they are being taught a history lesson (in the case of historical fiction) or force fed an abundance of ‘what it was like back...

Cream Tender Potential: use these three words

‘Ow, that’s tender.’ Joshua brushed aside his mother’s caring hand laid on the bump on his forehead.

‘Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll fetch the frozen peas.’ She sounded more efficient than sorry. ‘You really should be more careful,’ she added. ‘I mean, the potential of those older boys to knock you about is pretty obvious.’

Joshua secretly agreed, but he wasn’t going to confess it. ‘I have to play hard, get in there and show what I can do, Mum,’ he said. ‘The talent scouts are out all the time at th...

When the bird sang

Father brought the clock back from the war. He’d found it in a bombed-out village in France, the only intact item in the house. When he asked about the owners from those who had not fled or died, he was greeted with shaken heads and mutterings. The same when he offered money.

A cuckoo clock, he told me. Exquisitely handcrafted, with a stamp on the underside which told us it was made in Germany in 1888.

I have it on my desk beside me as I write, my wonder at its intricacy and brightness ...