Thursday, 21 May 2009
MEMOIRABELIA
'Announce Your Writing skills! Tell us Your Story!Write your story here! '
"Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share. Below is today's contribution...."
"Make sure you dry your feet on that mat before you walk downstairs, and make sure those things can't get out of the chicken run when you release them – like last time!"George paused, turned and frowned but did not reply. He made his way down the flight ofwooden stairs that led to the scullery. "Okay, okay, stop nagging. We only lost one last year, for Christ’s sake - and that wasn't my fault. If I remember right,” he muttered, “it was your bloody fault. You left the bolt off the latch." George was now downstairs and out of earshot, but his mumbling tone was picked up by Dolly."What did you say?" she squawked.'
In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I am laying the foundations of George's inadequacy and Dolly's domineering character.
Now its your turn to write......? .Tag your story excerpt or feedback on my exerpt,in the comments below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
"Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share. Below is today's contribution...."
"Make sure you dry your feet on that mat before you walk downstairs, and make sure those things can't get out of the chicken run when you release them – like last time!"George paused, turned and frowned but did not reply. He made his way down the flight ofwooden stairs that led to the scullery. "Okay, okay, stop nagging. We only lost one last year, for Christ’s sake - and that wasn't my fault. If I remember right,” he muttered, “it was your bloody fault. You left the bolt off the latch." George was now downstairs and out of earshot, but his mumbling tone was picked up by Dolly."What did you say?" she squawked.'
In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I am laying the foundations of George's inadequacy and Dolly's domineering character.
Now its your turn to write......? .Tag your story excerpt or feedback on my exerpt,in the comments below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
Announce Your Writing skills.Tell us your Story?
What's Your Story?
"Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share. Below is today's contribution...."
"Make sure you dry your feet on that mat before you walk downstairs, and make sure those things can't get out of the chicken run when you release them – like last time!"George paused, turned and frowned but did not reply. He made his way down the flight ofwooden stairs that led to the scullery. "Okay, okay, stop nagging. We only lost one last year, for Christ’s sake - and that wasn't my fault. If I remember right,” he muttered, “it was your bloody fault. You left the bolt off the latch." George was now downstairs and out of earshot, but his mumbling tone was picked up by Dolly."What did you say?" she squawked.'In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying the foundations of George's inadequacy and Dolly's domineering character.'Question: Now its your turn to write......? .Tag your story excerpt or your feedback on my exerpt below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
"Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share. Below is today's contribution...."
"Make sure you dry your feet on that mat before you walk downstairs, and make sure those things can't get out of the chicken run when you release them – like last time!"George paused, turned and frowned but did not reply. He made his way down the flight ofwooden stairs that led to the scullery. "Okay, okay, stop nagging. We only lost one last year, for Christ’s sake - and that wasn't my fault. If I remember right,” he muttered, “it was your bloody fault. You left the bolt off the latch." George was now downstairs and out of earshot, but his mumbling tone was picked up by Dolly."What did you say?" she squawked.'In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying the foundations of George's inadequacy and Dolly's domineering character.'Question: Now its your turn to write......? .Tag your story excerpt or your feedback on my exerpt below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Thursday, 14 May 2009
Write Your Story.
What's Your Story? Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share."Below is today's contribution.....
"Make sure you dry your feet on that mat before you walk downstairs, and make sure those things can't get out of the chicken run when you release them – like last time!"
George paused, turned and frowned but did not reply. He made his way down the flight of
wooden stairs that led to the scullery. "Okay, okay, stop nagging. We only lost one last year, for Christ’s sake - and that wasn't my fault. If I remember right,” he muttered, “it was your bloody fault. You left the bolt off the latch." George was now downstairs and out of earshot, but his mumbling tone was picked up by Dolly.
"What did you say?" she squawked.
'In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying the foundations of George's inadequacy and Dolly's domineering character.'
Question: Now its your turn to write......? .Tag your story excerpt or your comments below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
"Make sure you dry your feet on that mat before you walk downstairs, and make sure those things can't get out of the chicken run when you release them – like last time!"
George paused, turned and frowned but did not reply. He made his way down the flight of
wooden stairs that led to the scullery. "Okay, okay, stop nagging. We only lost one last year, for Christ’s sake - and that wasn't my fault. If I remember right,” he muttered, “it was your bloody fault. You left the bolt off the latch." George was now downstairs and out of earshot, but his mumbling tone was picked up by Dolly.
"What did you say?" she squawked.
'In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying the foundations of George's inadequacy and Dolly's domineering character.'
Question: Now its your turn to write......? .Tag your story excerpt or your comments below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Whats Your Story?
What's Your Story?
Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share."Below is today's contribution.....
'Sat in the underground living room, watching and listening for life and sounds ofhuman traffic, I rarely ventured upstairs to the front door, but I always heard wheneversomeone called, especially whenever George returned from Steyning Market. Now in his late forties, George regularly travelled by train to the livestock market to buy animals andvegetables to breed and eat. On his return he always thumped the front door with his gloved hand; the glove hid his missing finger, shot off by a German sentry in the war. From my seat in the underground front room, I heard George groan as he tripped on the front doorstep. Then he kicked and thumped the door in irritation. Dolly was waiting for him.'In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying a sinister atmosphere woven by George's gloved hand and Dolly's impatience.'
Question: Have you got a Story to tell......? .Tag your story excerpt or your comments below....Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share."Below is today's contribution.....
'Sat in the underground living room, watching and listening for life and sounds ofhuman traffic, I rarely ventured upstairs to the front door, but I always heard wheneversomeone called, especially whenever George returned from Steyning Market. Now in his late forties, George regularly travelled by train to the livestock market to buy animals andvegetables to breed and eat. On his return he always thumped the front door with his gloved hand; the glove hid his missing finger, shot off by a German sentry in the war. From my seat in the underground front room, I heard George groan as he tripped on the front doorstep. Then he kicked and thumped the door in irritation. Dolly was waiting for him.'In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying a sinister atmosphere woven by George's gloved hand and Dolly's impatience.'
Question: Have you got a Story to tell......? .Tag your story excerpt or your comments below....Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
What's Your Story?
Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share."Below is today's contribution......
'Sat in the underground living room, watching and listening for life and sounds of
human traffic, I rarely ventured upstairs to the front door, but I always heard whenever
someone called, especially whenever George returned from Steyning Market. Now in his late forties, George regularly travelled by train to the livestock market to buy animals and
vegetables to breed and eat. On his return he always thumped the front door with his gloved hand; the glove hid his missing finger, shot off by a German sentry in the war. From my seat in the underground front room, I heard George groan as he tripped on the front doorstep. Then he kicked and thumped the door in irritation. Dolly was waiting for him.'
In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying a sinister atmosphere woven by George's gloved hand and Dolly's impatience.
Question: Have you got a Story to tell......? .Tag your story excerpt or your comments below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
'Sat in the underground living room, watching and listening for life and sounds of
human traffic, I rarely ventured upstairs to the front door, but I always heard whenever
someone called, especially whenever George returned from Steyning Market. Now in his late forties, George regularly travelled by train to the livestock market to buy animals and
vegetables to breed and eat. On his return he always thumped the front door with his gloved hand; the glove hid his missing finger, shot off by a German sentry in the war. From my seat in the underground front room, I heard George groan as he tripped on the front doorstep. Then he kicked and thumped the door in irritation. Dolly was waiting for him.'
In this excerpt fom 'A Mother to Kill a Son' I begin laying a sinister atmosphere woven by George's gloved hand and Dolly's impatience.
Question: Have you got a Story to tell......? .Tag your story excerpt or your comments below....
Ross Martin(author) A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
MEMOIRABELIA
"Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share."Below is today's contribution......
Twenty-one, London Street, my new home in Brighton, backed onto St Bartholomew’s -
a huge, 600 foot high Victorian, Anglo-Catholic church located at the North end of town, in
sight of the main railway station. Our garden abutted the giant church wall – like a coal-bunker perched against the side of a tall building. This grand building, the pride of the Victorians,eclipsed our natural light to the extent that sunlight was only seen when the sun was at its apex and its rays penetrated the garden gloom. Despite this major drawback, the vegetables planted annually as a supply to take the family through the winter months continued to flourish and grow.
This opening para describes the 'House of Horrors' where I spent my childhood. The Church became my hiding place and refuge.'Ironically the size of the building meant that inside the house daylight was at a premium.
Question:Have you got a Story to tell......? .Tag your answer to comments....
Ross Martin(author)A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Twenty-one, London Street, my new home in Brighton, backed onto St Bartholomew’s -
a huge, 600 foot high Victorian, Anglo-Catholic church located at the North end of town, in
sight of the main railway station. Our garden abutted the giant church wall – like a coal-bunker perched against the side of a tall building. This grand building, the pride of the Victorians,eclipsed our natural light to the extent that sunlight was only seen when the sun was at its apex and its rays penetrated the garden gloom. Despite this major drawback, the vegetables planted annually as a supply to take the family through the winter months continued to flourish and grow.
This opening para describes the 'House of Horrors' where I spent my childhood. The Church became my hiding place and refuge.'Ironically the size of the building meant that inside the house daylight was at a premium.
Question:Have you got a Story to tell......? .Tag your answer to comments....
Ross Martin(author)A Mother to Kill a Son.
http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Friday, 1 May 2009
MEMOIRABELIA
"Memoirs can often appear 'flat' and have less meaning for modern readers. This Blog is about bringing your experiences to life, so that rather than events remaining as significant points in time to you alone -you bring them to life by plotting and developing characters, storyline and conflict-for everyone to share."
Below is today's contribution......
'I was born around 2 pm on the twenty-ninth of May, 1945, in a Catholic nursing home for unmarried mothers somewhere in North London. Outside, military personnel, men and women,thronged the pavements, laughing, singing, and shouting whilst others worked in groups erecting trestle-tables in preparation for the weekend’s continuation of the Victory celebrations.That day everyone was deliriously happy. The War had ended. They had survived.The Sisters of Faith assisted my mother in bringing me into the free world. I was surrounded by sombre-faced nuns whose singular purpose was to provide a bridge of humanity between an unmarried, eighteen-year-old girl and her newborn child, and a largely uncaring world where she would be judged as a ‘fallen woman’; a place that decreed my mother’s shame, and mine by association, should be hidden from public view.To accommodate our disgrace, arrangements were made for George and Dolly Fowler, from faraway Brighton, to adopt me –so that my mother’s infamy would be erased.From-'A Mother to Kill a Son' In this excerpt I am setting the scene,describing Nicky' Fowler's beginnings,the environment where the roots of his sense of worthlessness were born. '
Now it's your turn.... enter your exerpt in comments..
Ross Martin(author)
A Mother to Kill a Son.http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
Below is today's contribution......
'I was born around 2 pm on the twenty-ninth of May, 1945, in a Catholic nursing home for unmarried mothers somewhere in North London. Outside, military personnel, men and women,thronged the pavements, laughing, singing, and shouting whilst others worked in groups erecting trestle-tables in preparation for the weekend’s continuation of the Victory celebrations.That day everyone was deliriously happy. The War had ended. They had survived.The Sisters of Faith assisted my mother in bringing me into the free world. I was surrounded by sombre-faced nuns whose singular purpose was to provide a bridge of humanity between an unmarried, eighteen-year-old girl and her newborn child, and a largely uncaring world where she would be judged as a ‘fallen woman’; a place that decreed my mother’s shame, and mine by association, should be hidden from public view.To accommodate our disgrace, arrangements were made for George and Dolly Fowler, from faraway Brighton, to adopt me –so that my mother’s infamy would be erased.From-'A Mother to Kill a Son' In this excerpt I am setting the scene,describing Nicky' Fowler's beginnings,the environment where the roots of his sense of worthlessness were born. '
Now it's your turn.... enter your exerpt in comments..
Ross Martin(author)
A Mother to Kill a Son.http://www.brightonboy.co.uk
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