Category: Blog A Story

Hello my Dearest Readers!

This week I want to introduce you to my favorite short story I wrote.

I think I’ve mentioned the 12 Stories in 12 Months challenge before. Regardless, it’s a challenge to write a short story every month inspired by a prompt. This story comes from one of those challenges.

The prompt was ‘DELETE’.

And I thought some speculative fiction is the thing.

What do I have such a secret love for? NOTEBOOKS! Yeah, I love notebooks more than I can fill it. Even though I’ve made an agreement with myself to fill those I have first with whatever, burn them when full and start filling up a new one.

‘The horror!! What do you mean you burn them?’ That’s usually the reaction I get when I tell people, I burn my full notebooks.

It’s cathartic. You should try it. Maybe when I burn one again, I’ll tell you all about it.

Anyways back to the story.

Friday’s Blog A Story, is about the role notebooks played in an experiment that has the potential to have devastating effects. It’s playing the role of a sort of kill code.

‘Notebooks’ is a scene from a story that could probably be a proper sci-fi story and can go anywhere. I’ve never played with the possibilities before. I’m not sure I’ll do soon. But I could.

It could probably build into a sci-fi with romantic elements or it can keep to hard-core science. Who knows!

Look out for ‘Notebooks’ tomorrow as part of my Blog A Story series. Let me know what you think. Love it? Hate it? Do you think it could work as a bigger story?

Imagine if I can write it based on your suggestions. That will be fun.

Anyways…

That’s it for now.

Until next time!

PS. The password to my Blog A Story (#BAS) posts are in my newsletter. Please subscribe to my newsletter to get it.

Hello my Dearest Readers!

This week I want to introduce you to a story I wrote after a friend’s husband died from pancreatic cancer a few years ago.

He was but 42 and his son was not even 10 years old.

His death shook me to my core. It reminded me of my husband that nearly died from cancer himself when my oldest was 2 years old. Let’s just say the experience was very much real to me.

I suppose this story was me, working through the cursed ‘what ifs’ that tend to either spur us on, or paralise us.

The story has a happy ending, keep heart!!

All I can say from this story is that it’s definitely not one of my best stories. But I want to share it regardless.

Please look out for Walking the Pages this Friday.

That’s it for now.

Until next time!

PS. The password to my Blog A Story (#BAS) posts are in my newsletter. Please subscribe to my newsletter to get it.

Hello my Dearest Readers!

This week I want to introduce you to a story my dad told us as children.

He died earlier this year. 1 March 2022 to be exact at the age of 77 years old. I hope he rests now. The last few years he was less and less than the man I remember as my dad.

Anyways, enough of that.

He was raised in Reitz, a town in the eastern Free State. Other than one or two towns, most of the towns are a bit obscure.

In this town was a general trader. The man never married and had no family that my dad could remember. Being raised in the 40’s and 50’s in the time predating the Republic of South Africa, most people were frugal in their lifestyle.

This man however lived noticeably above the lifestyles most of his fellow townsmen did. And everybody, I mean EVERYBODY, was suspicious. And watched him closely. My dad loved calling him a ‘dandy’ or in Afrikaans a ‘laventel haantjie’. It’s quite patronising but it’s done now.

He had a distinct routine. Which elicited numerous rumors.

Just for clarity, the cars in that time seldom had a brake peddle that was stepped on or a lever that the driver pulled like we see in most old cars. Most drivers had to jump out of the car, run to the tires and prop a brick in front of one tire or 2 tires, depending on the vehicle. My character had a driver and this particular task rested on his shoulders.

Also, this story dates from a time where black people were employed as servants in South Africa and received the atrocious treatment common in those days. I wanted to keep the telling of the story the same. This does by no means represent my view point. If it’s inclusion offends you, I apologise. That is not my intention.

That is all I’ll say on the details of the story.

Besides, most are theories and rumors and we all know that it’s a 50/50 chance that the rumor is correct.

Please look out for Pebble In My Brick this Friday.

That’s it for now.

Until next time!