Thinking and Writing and Writing and Thinking

A friend of mine reckons that even when you’re not writing, you are. I hope so. Since returning from the sun and having had the time to devour three books (11:2263 by Stephen King, Transatlantic by Colum McCann and The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith or somebody like that –more on these another time), I’m back to my routine where writing and reading time kicks in in the evenings. I just feel I’m not progressing enough. A college professor once told me that I needed to lock the door and forget the laundry. Well, this week I’ve done it. It’s piled high as a volcano on the bed behind me and I’ve my writing jumper on. Admittedly, I’m also knee deep in a course in proofreading, so things are particularly busy at the minute, notwithstanding the fact that “school’s in” in two days’ time!

More and more, I can appreciate the time it takes to work at writing. You just gotta sit down, get stuck in and reach the word target but there must be a case for taking the inadvertent time to reflect and let the narrative threads find their settling places.

Typically, I get 1,500 words of a 2,000 – 2,500 word story done in a couple of sittings and then I lose the momentum or become pernickety about the ending. The last story I did – “Geronimo” (coming to a journal near you!) – ebbed and flowed in a similar fashion until it just came to me that the protagonist would meet his inevitable fate. Something in me knew it would be so but it took the time when I wasn’t actually writing to figure it out.

One day, I’ll write the story from start to finish as short stories should be written and attach the corresponding label, to be read in one sitting only, as short stories should be read, but for now I’ll tip away, mingle with and muse about the characters and challenges I meet along the way.



O Captain, My Captain

Well said Sinéad and thanks for providing the information at the end. He’ll be missed and especially by those closest to him. He had such an ability to bring the viewer to the dizzy double edge between laughter and crying.
“Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.” RIP

SJ O'Hart

I’ve been sitting at my desk for almost an hour now, trying to convince myself that it’s not frivolous or silly to want to write a blog post about the passing of a person I never met when we’re living in a world where thousands of innocent people are dying, unnaturally, every single day. I want to believe that it’s important to remember people who had a huge impact on our lives, even if it wasn’t a personal connection, and to mourn them when we lose them. One thing I know for sure is this: I’ve been sitting here for a long time now, simply weeping, and even though this blog post may be nothing more than an example of how it’s a bad idea to write a blog post when you’re upset, I’m going to go with the only thing on my mind right now.

Robin Williams. He can’t…

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Mash Stories

Great stuff Lorraine!

Lorraine Mona Carey


I finally have the time to update my blog. The wonderful news I mentioned recently was Taboo got shortlisted for the Mash Stories competition. It’s great to see it up online, and just look at the pretty picture they gave me.


I noticed Mash Stories when it announced in the Writing Magazine last year. Using three randomised words they pick, you must write a sensible story within 500 words (without changing any of the words). It sounded exactly like my idea of fun (Jaysus!). I missed the deadline for the first one, but I fell in love with the idea of it. Myself and Taidgh thought it would be a great plan to get the Writers’ Group on board, and we have been passing the word around since to all our other friends. It’s great to see it taking off.

There was a few problems initially with my picture…

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