Monthly Archives: June 2018

Sea Shell

A short story for Miranda Kate’s sixtieth Flash Challenge, which this time does me great honour by using one of my own photos.

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© 2017 @wombat37Georgiana Harvey sat outside the Cove Cafe, sipping lukewarm, watery tea, and watching the sunlight flicker across the wide waves. The tide was going out, slowly revealing wet sand, shining pebbles, tiny scuttling crabs, and the giant metal shell that sat on the beach near the cafe: a spiral, steel sculpture large enough to climb into. Twice daily it was swamped by the tide, water spurting from a blow-hole as the water rose, before the shell became completely submerged. At low tide it became completely visible.

Georgie did not need to check her watch – it would not be long now before she could walk down to the beach and clamber into the structure, as she did every day. She would, as usual, listen to the sounds of the sea from outside, and read the words that the artist had etched into the metal. The time she spent in the shell was precious. In there, she could forget, for a beautiful moment, her life of drudgery, and instead imagine faraway worlds, and dream of escape to a life of adventure. It was as if the shell was imbued with an unusual, hidden, power. She believed that without her daily tryst with the steel shell on the beach, she might go insane.

Georgie’s reverie was interrupted by a woman sitting down heavily beside her. She was short, with a shock of pink hair, and wore a uniform of dark blue. Georgie did not recognise the insignia on her shoulder.

“You have to run,” the woman hissed. “She’s coming for you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Georgie snapped. She was not pleased to have her fanciful musings interrupted.

“Run, you fool!” The woman whipped her head to the left. “Shit! She’s here!” She jumped to her feet, knocking her chair backwards. “RUN!” she shouted, and took to her heels.

There was a sharp sound, PFIZZ, and Georgie’s teacup exploded, shattering in her hand. She jumped up, bewildered. Had that been a shot? She looked to the left, eyes wide, heart thumping. A dark figure in a wide-brimmed hat stood by the sea wall, pointing a glowing blue tube at her. The figure’s hand twitched and a thin line of sapphire light speared from the tube. PFIZZ. The teapot on the table shattered. A sharp shard of china flew across Georgie’s cheek, slicing open a deep cut.

In panic, she twisted and took to her heels. A blue line flew over her shoulder and hit the ballustrade in front of her, sending fragments of stone flying. She swerved towards the beach, taking the steps two at a time. The cut on her face hurt, and she felt warm blood mixing with salt tears of fear and running to her chin. She sobbed, and jumped the last few steps.

As her feet sank into the wet sand she turned left. PFIZZ. The mud and pebbles by her feet exploded. She squealed, and twisted the other way, towards the shell. That was it. She could hide there. Her shell would protect her.

Sand and small rocks flew from her feet as the sprinted towards the metal spiral. One of her sandals flew off, but she dare not stop to retrieve it. Her heart pounded, her breath tore at her burning lungs. She flung herself inside the wide mouth of the shell and collapsed. As she lay, panting, on the cold, wet metal, she looked back at the entrance, fearing the arrival of the figure in the hat. Instead, the pink-haired woman’s face appeared.

“Sorry about this,” she said, then spoke into her wrist. “Activate.”

The inside of the shell began to glow, then in a blinding, impossibly- white flash Georgie was gone. The shell was empty, wind whistling coldly through the metal. A person in a broad-brimmed hat walked up to the pink-haired woman.

“So,” she greeted the newcomer with a salute. “That’s how you got to the future, Commander?”

“Yes, Sergeant Lolo. Thank you for your help.” The Commander put down her plasma-rifle and ran her fingertip down the old scar on her cheek. “God, that young girl is so terrified right now.”

“Time Force wouldn’t exist without her, though.”

“I know. This day is sewn into the alpha timeline, but still, I hated doing that to myself.”

Tempus fugit tardius,” Sergeant Lolo quoted the Time Force motto. “What’s next, Commander Harvey?”

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My thanks to @mistressboom and @pariahsickkid for the use of their names. Cafe Cove exists, in Cleveleys, close to the Mary’s Shell sculpture on the beach. It’s by Stephen Broadbent, and is totally worth a visit, as is his Sea Ogre nearby.

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Warren Peace: Bunny Prince Charlie

Warren Peace coverSpurred on by my desire to move away from Lulu’s ridiculous P&P charges for people buying my paperbacks, I’ve been re-editing Warren Peace prior to moving it to a new home. I’ve been amazed at how much there is to change. When I first wrote it I thought it pretty good (and 100% of reviewers clearly agreed, giving 4- and 5-star ratings), but I’ve learned so much in the ten years since I wrote it that I shudder to look at it with my now-wizened author-eyes.

The punctuation is Naff City, baby. That’s the first thing to clear up. Also, the pacing at times lags woefully, becoming leisurely when it should be frantic: I’ll be fixing all that too, while removing a few clichés and instances of head-hopping.

What might interest you most, though, is that I’ll be writing the long-planned sequel, Bunny Prince Charlie, and publishing it NOT as a standalone book, but as an extension of the re-edited version of the original novel. Is this a good idea? Who can say, but it makes sense to wombats.

Oh, and the image there is not the final cover. That will be a LOT snazzier.

The Joy of One Star, No.2 – The Bible – “Where’s the dinosaurs?”

The Joy of One Star – a new strand in which I enjoy 1-star review comments left on Amazon about various popular items. Click here for No.1 – Thor:Ragnarok.

Click to see on AmazonAccording to Amazon, this is The Holy Bible “by King James (author)”, although to be fair the product description does say it contains the words of God. Reviewer vine voice is not impressed: “if God wrote this, as the product page asserts, why is it 99 cents?”, while sactomike complains that God “blows up my Kindle every time I re-load this bible.”

Others are similarly unimpressed. Charlotte Gresham, bless her, takes time out of her busy day to tell us that she has “never order this or received it. So it should not receive any stars.” That’ll teach King James. Amazon Customer makes no sense by telling us “This dosent make sense where is the triple 6 at.” (sic), while enchantress6274 is fuming. “This version is blasphemy!” she rants. “I was ashamed! I am trying to be a wonderful and loyal wife to Christ but this book takes his title of deity from him!”

There are a few more considered, literary criticisms. Tatiana Vain says “If the writer was going for the avangarde and a post modernity, then he failed as well.” And here’s Amazon Customer again (although now I think of it probably not the same one) – “Probably more than 31 million murders in this over the top book. To make it worse, the mysogony is way over the top and the glorification of owning slaves makes this an unbearable travisty. Skip this one! You will be happy you did.” Consider me warned, Mr. Customer. Kiyura Good is concerned that “the main character didnt feature until halfway through the book and was far to predicable as the ‘nice guy — (goody to shoes)’”. Stupid, predictable do-gooder Jesus.

As usual, I’ll leave you with my favourite review, from a Jeremy Dinsel“Where’s the dinosaurs?”

Pie Cricket Week 4

I’m posting the table here as well as on Twitter, so that it’s easy for you to read, and to click for embiggening. Don’t want to strain your eyes, do we? This is how things stand BEFORE any wickets are taken. Choose your victims, wicket-takers.

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Wombat in my Pocket

WimP all three

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