The Mind Of A Writer

Dust, Doorway, Door, Window, Sunlight, Architecture

The second she opened the door in her mind all the stories rushed out. The characters began talking to her so loud that their mingling voices blocked everything else out. Scene settings popped into her vision, taking her from moonlight countryside to a cottage’s roaring fire place.

She shut her eyes and tried to get control over it all. She pushed away the characters she didn’t want to work on and listened harder to the ones she did. It took awhile, but when she opened her eyes again and saw the computer screen and keyboard before her. Hovering her fingers over random letters, she began typing.

Advertisements

Stars In A Jar

‘Mummy? How can I get a star in this jar?’

I glanced down at my eight year old daughter. She had come to my side, holding a large jam jar in both hands and frowning into it. I stopped chopping vegetables for the pasta sauce and turned to her.

‘A star?’ I questioned.

She nodded once and clutching the jar tighter to her chest, looked up at me.

‘It’s for Nana’s birthday,’ she explained.

‘Oh…Well, you know catching a star is very hard. You can only see them at night and you need a really long fishing rod, a net and maybe some rope,’ I told her.

She stared up at me with big blue eyes framed with loose yellow curls that had escaped her ponytail. She pouted, becoming confused, but I could also she that she was trying to work out if I was lying or not.

‘Perhaps. Instead of a real star we could just make some?’ I suggested.

‘How?’

‘I’ll show you after dinner. Here, let me put that somewhere safe for you….’

I reached to take the jar from her, but she shook her head and started walking off.

‘Be careful!’ I called after her.

She mumbled something and walked out of the kitchen.

I listened for a few moments as her voice drifted back from the living room where her dad and baby brother were watching cartoons. She seemed to be telling him what I had just said. Shaking my head, I got back to making dinner, but my thoughts were really on how to create a star that would satisfy her.

Afterwards, I gathered some craft supplies and found an old box of Christmas white fairy lights. Bringing everything into the living room, I presented my ideas to her and though she seemed a little uncertain, within two hours we had created some stars in a jar.

‘Do you think Nana will like it?’ I asked as I tucked my daughter into bed at last.

She looked at the jar which was now on her bedside. The fairy lights glowed softly inside it, casting light on to the danging paper stars attached to the lid. It did like very effective.

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘and you were right mummy. That was a lot easier then catching a real star. Though I do wish we could have given it ago.’

‘Maybe, we could try tomorrow? Good night,’ I whispered.

All In The Mind

Dracula, Halloween, Vampire, Horror, Creepy, Scary

‘I worry,’ muttered the vampire sweet jar at the side of Aurora desk, ‘about her current state of mind.’

He flicked his red rimmed eyes to the left and right, spotting both the grey plushie cat and black sparkly beanie bat. Both were hidden under and in-between packets of sweets and chocolate.

‘Why?’ the bat squeaked, though he seemed to have no mouth to do so with.

‘Because,’ the vampire began then trailed off with a sigh.

The plushie cat was mumbling something underneath him and he had to slide over, so she could free herself. Moving back again, the sweets stored inside of his black plastic body rattled loudly. He watched the cat scrambling up a packet of gold dusted chocolate Easter eggs. She went to rest on a colouring book that was sticking out from the stack and started trying to nuzzle into her felt fur.

The vampire cleared his throat and began again, ‘because she has clearly lost it.’

‘Lost what?’ the bat questioned.

He flapped his too large wings uselessly about which resulted in him tumbling off a small cardboard box and hitting a large jar of felt tip pens.

The vampire rolled his eyes and watched the bat struggling to right himself before plopping next to the keyboard and Aurora’s fast moving fingers.

‘Her mind,’ the vampire repeated.

The bat looked at him, then the cat and finally Aurora.

‘I don’t understand,’ the bat called up to them, ‘she’s doing what she normally does at this time of day and look! There’s a new creation just waiting to be sewn next to her.’

The cat peered down, trying to look snotty, but her wobbly black line mouth made it look more like she was trying to hide a smile. The vampire joined her by looming over and was surprised to see a square of blue felt with a strange paper shape on top of it just above the keyboard.

‘What is that?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know…I think it has a curly tail and nose though,’ the bat answered back.

‘Can you all please be quiet?’ Aurora broke in.

Her bright green eyes landed on the group and her pale lips formed a strained frown line.

The vampire shrunk into the gold dappled flock curtain behind him, knocking over a box of fudge as he did so. The cat hissed and swung up to join him, landing on the chocolate eggs again. Whilst the bat turned his eyes upwards to the mountain of snacks and wondered how he was going to get back up there again.

Aurora groaned softly and picked up the bat. She placed him back on the stack next to a packet of mixed mints and the printer’s tray. She folded his wings in, but they flapped out again.

‘I’m not losing my mind,’ Aurora added, ‘it’s just the depression again.’

‘Is that why you’ve had the urges to sew?’ the bat asked, wishing she’d pick him up again. He had long forgotten what it felt like to be in her warm hands, having his fluffy fur rubbed.

‘A little. But I need to write this story first and submit it. Though I don’t know why I’m bothering,’ Aurora added with a shake of her head.

She turned back and began typing once more, her eyes darting from screen to keyboard. The words before her started to blur and tears filled her eyes before she could stop them.

‘Here,’ the vampire called, ‘have a lollypop.’

Aurora turned to him and picked up the plastic jar. She tipped him over, twisted off the lid at his base and pulled out a Halloween themed lollypop. Securing the lid, she placed him back, disturbing a packet of oat biscuits. Moving them to the side, she sat for a few moments whilst she opened the lolly and took a few licks.

‘So what is it?’ the bat squealed.

‘A seahorse,’ Aurora replied, ‘I’m going to make it into a key ring for my new bag.’

‘But you all ready made a purple octopus,’ the bat pointed out.

‘I know, but I wanted a seahorse too and then there’s this…’

Aurora went to the other side of her desk and grabbed a plastic wallet. She shuffled through the papers then showed them a pattern for a felt mermaid doll.

‘She looks nice and summer like.’

‘I don’t like her…’ the vampire muttered, ‘can’t you make her more gothic?’

‘Maybe,’ Aurora said and put the papers down.

She popped the lolly into her mouth once more and looked at the computer screen for a few moments. The words typed up there didn’t seem to make sense any more.

‘Do you think it’s true?’ Aurora whispered as she looked over at the cat, ‘have a lost my mind?’

The vampire shot her a sad, fang flashing smile, ‘Yes. You’ve started giving us voices in your head again. We really are not really you know…Maybe you need to get some help? Perhaps before you start believing you headphones are trying to kill you again?’

Aurora sighed and got up from her computer desk. The room was silent but for a ticking clock. She picked up the bat, rubbing his fluffy fur against her cheek. Deep down she knew the vampire was right, just like he always was.

For Art

Scrapyard, Recycling, Dump, Garbage, Metal, Scrap Yard

Matt liked going to the scrap yard because he never knew what he was going to find. Parking his car in the carefully reserved spaces just outside the tall electrical wired topped gates, he got out and went in. A small box booth painted bright red to stand out against everything else sat just inside the fence, with a huge man balled up inside. Matt waved to him and clocked the scrap yard owner’s wave back before wandering in.

Towers of scrap and waste rose up around Matt like small mountains. Someone was trying hard to keep control of the towers being structured out of the same items, but it was an almost impossible task. The metal piles held abandoned cars, some looking crushed others just looking dumped where sticking out alongside white kitchen appliances which also mingled with other metal objects.

The smell was bad and Matt slipped on his cloth mask and gloves as he walked. The air was heavy with old oil, rusting metal, household waste and other rotting things. Following large paths that had been marked out of the cranes and other monster machines to follow, he approached a few of the piles and looked at the stuff on offer.

His mind rushed over all the things he could create and soon he had gathered a list of items. Finding a worker, which took a very long time, he got the young man to gather what he had picked it out and cart it back to the booth for the total and payment. He then got help arranging deliver and sent of home again.

Matt knew he always took too much home. Thinking about as he drove, he felt he couldn’t help it. Somehow, people’s unwanted items took on new forms under his hands and found so much joy in it. What had once been his hobby was now his way of life. A way of life selling recycled art.

Postcard

St Petersburg Russia, Nonoj Petersburg

Hey, look I finally made it! Can’t believe I’m actually here in Russia. I so had to send you a postcard as it’s taking me ages to find an internet cafe. Though chances are I’ll have found one and spoke to you way before you get this. Still, it’s the thoughts right? I still can’t believe you’re wasting your summer working. No way does that make you more creative! Getting out and seeing the world does! Think about and let me know if you’re going to met us in Rome. See you soon, Chad.

Love

Heart, Love, Romance, Valentine, Romantic

Everyday he went it into the woods and made love hearts out of the largest fallen branches. One day he hoped to give them to his wife and daughters when he saw them again.

Sundays

Fairy Tale, Night, Girl, Fish, Sky, Bird, Fly, Flight

Sundays are for the dreamers, the creatives, the wanders. Sunday’s are days for relaxing, pleasant weather, time stopping moments. Sundays are for being alone and reflecting. Sundays are ME days when I lock the door, unhook the phone, turn everything off and just with my pen and paper slip silently away.

Origami

His skills at folding paper had allowed him to set up his own business, rent a one bed roomed flat and have a very basic lifestyle. He often wondered if he shouldn’t look at trying to make something more out of himself, but then the paper always called him back. Everyone called him an artist, but he didn’t feel like it as he just followed the instructions and made things. How can you be artist if you have no free will or expression over your pieces? He supposed that not just anyone could make famous landmarks and faces out of square bits of paper. There had to be some skill and patients involved in that, but to him it had always come naturally. His favourite pieces were the ones for weddings and parties; brightly blooming flowers, almost real like moving butterflies and the floating swans, which he gladly took orders for to make. There was nothing he didn’t enjoy crafting the paper into and nothing that seemed too difficult. Of course he did get it wrong sometimes, by a wrong fold or an off angled crease, but he knew that was all part of the process.

Frost

There was frost on the carpet as Darcy pushed the front door fully open. She paused on the step, arms weighted down with bags and her ears stinging with coldness. Frowning, she cast her eyes to the staircase where the small trail ended. She stepped inside, put down the bags and closed the door quietly.

Taking off her long coat and knitted hat, she shook out her curly brown hair. Hanging her things up and taking off her boots, she heard soft laughter. Deciding to leave the bags in the hallway, even though she knew it to be a risk, she walked towards the living room. The cold and wetness of the hall rug sink into her thick socked feet and she scrunched up her toes.

Sticking her head around the door, she saw her mother asleep on the plush armchair. The TV was on, though the sound was turned down and Darcy was able to make out the program to be a church carols one. Turning away, she followed the wet patches down to the kitchen. The door was ajar, like the front one had been and gently, Darcy eased it open.

The scene before her was one that would stay with her for years to come. Her four children were gathered around the fridge-freezer, the oldest one, Riley, balanced on a chair and the youngest, Tess, sat on the floor, whilst the other two, twins, Alex and Andrea held a small ice snowman. Darcy watched as Riley took the snowman from the twins and placed it inside the freezer next to a packet of peas and fish fingers.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked, opening the door and going in.

Straight away, Riley wobbled on the chair and had to grab the back rail. The twins rushed forward and crowded her and Tess screeched out, arms waving and gurgling.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ the twin chanted.

Darcy squeezed past them and picked up Tess as Riley slammed shut the freezer door.

‘You’re home early, how come?’ he added.

‘Do I need a reason?’ she countered and tickled Tess, who burst into laughed. ‘So, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing. Just looking…looking for…Christmas presents.’

‘Presents in the freeze?’

He shrugged, ‘Oh, you know…’

Darcy pulled a face and fixed her son with an I don’t believe you look. Meanwhile, the twins had dart out of the backdoor and their excited voices drifted over. Though, their words couldn’t be made out. Putting Tess on her hip, Darcy made her way over to the door, but Riley jumped in front of her.

‘What we having for tea?’ he asked, quickly.

‘Pizza,’ she answered and tried to look out of the window.

‘Great. When?’

‘The normal time.’

‘Don’t you want to get changed and stuff?’

‘What’s going on outside?’ Darcy asked dropping her voice.

Riley shook his head.

‘Go on…tell me.’

‘Nothing. Nothing. Here, let me have Tess,’ he said and held his arms out, ‘I’ll look after her. You should go and see Granny.’

Darcy pouted and reached out for the door handle. Riley grabbed it before she could. Swinging around, she marched to the freezer and pulled it open as Riley gasped behind her. Inside, the snowman stared back at her, it’s frozen features nicely sculptured.  Tapping it to one side, she saw another one behind it, though its face and scarf were different.

‘Where’s your father and grandpa?’ Darcy asked as she turned around, but the kitchen as empty. She heard Riley’s voice from the garden yell, ‘she knows!’

Closing the door, Darcy swapped Tess to her other hip and went to the door. Standing in the door way she looked into the garden light up by the security lights and saw her husband, father and other children gathered around blocks of ice. The adults were holding tools and looked full engaged in listening to the children. Darcy noticed that the grass was covered in ice chippings that glistened in the light as the melted.

‘Hi, Honey! How was work?’ her husband called over.

‘What’s going on?’ Darcy cut in.

‘Just…practising a little something,’ he replied.

‘Why are there snowmen in my freezer?’

The twins giggled and Riley looked stressed out.

‘Because it’s colder in there…maybe?’

Darcy felt a wave of frustration, ‘just what is going on? And I want to know right now!’

‘Well, darling,’ her father started, ‘the kids wanted to build snowmen, but you know there’s been no snow, so I thought we’d sculpt them some…’

‘Mummy, can we keep them? Dad said we could,’ Andrea and Alex said together, their words tumbling together to form one.

‘Where are we going to put them all?’ Darcy asked.

‘We’ll find somewhere,’ her husband hushed.

‘Look at this one!’ one of the twins said and they awed around a third ice snowman.

Shaking her head, Darcy stepped back and shut the door. From outside came the happy cries of the children. Placing, Tess in the high chair, Darcy suddenly remembered the bags in the hallway and hurried to hide them.