Behind the stories there’s a group of enthusiastic writers working hard. Once a fortnight in a house in Newcastle, seven writers gather to share their work, offer encouragement, critique and constructive criticism.
It’s a wonderful opportunity to be part of such an industrious group of people. We range in, age, experience, genre and even gender. But our common thread is our passion for writing.
I’ve found it so important to share ideas, knowledge, fears, hopes and dreams. The support of a writing group can be valuable for improving writing skills, boosting confidence, challenging thoughts and having fun.
Together we’ve achieved so much in a short time; we’ve won numerous competitions, prizes, awards, commendations, been published in newspapers, online, e-books, hard-cover books and attended public events, live reads and radio shows.
We are a force to be reckoned with!
I enjoy a balance of spending time writing alone, coupled with the group connection.
So here’s our group working hard and having fun at the same time!
Friday Fictioneers @ Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Every week writers from around the world take on the challenge of writing a 100 word story from a photo prompt.
Copyright -Mary Shipman
It happened again the day I revisited my parent’s abandoned shed. I walked through the dark doorway and stood frozen in time. The cold air and musty smell infiltrated my senses.
I ran my hand over the beam, but quickly withdrew, smarting in pain from the splinter that had become embedded. I leaned back on the wall and slowly slid down until I was hunched on the cold, hard concrete floor.
The familiar sinking feeling resurfaced. I lowered my head in my hands. I knew what came next.
The beams were exposed.
The wallpaper wept.
My very first Friday Fictioneer piece with Rochelle Wisoff-Fields @ http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com
Writers from around the world challenge themselves to a 100 word story, taking inspiration from the picture prompt. Let’s see if I can meet the challenge!
Some Teeth are False
I’ve got the best vantage point now. The dentist’s chair overlooks our house. I’ve watched my husband Jim descend every single step. He doesn’t know that I know Sandra owns a van. He doesn’t know that Sandra and I visit the same dentist. He doesn’t know that Sandra’s teeth are false.
My teeth are original; except of course for a tiny filling here and there.
I rinse and spit, clink my teeth together.
I move to the waiting room, clutching the recommended toothpaste, I shove it in my suitcase.
The ship’s horn sounds.
There’ll be dentists in Greece.