A Submission Horse named Cripes! Editors run for their lives.

Earlier today I thought of an awesome idea for a blog post. Phew! At last, I would have something to blog about and I'd so wanted to resurrect this blog, or rather, add new content to it.

I've forgotten the awesome idea.

That's okay, I doubt it was awesome or brilliant anyway, more likely random nonsense like this is. But go team me, I'm actually formulating a blog post. Now I figure I should add some actual content because someone, somewhere, in a hundred years from now (or later today) might stumble upon this post.

Scratches chin.

Ah, my thirty-two short story file - yes, that's the place to start.

In the midst of when mum was becoming really ill (for those who don't know, my beautiful mum died at Christmas), I opened a file and listed thirty-two random quotes and started to construct stories inspired by them. I didn't choose to write thirty-two in particular, it was merely the figure I ended up with when I got bored looking for quotes to add to the file. I sometimes think I get bored easily and at other times think I can cope with all of the boredom longer than most. I doubt either is true.

Anyway, back to the file. I started said file because I couldn't concentrate on writing and wanted something I could dip into without pressure. Or at least, without pressure just yet. I thought - honestly thought - that it would be something I could escape into in the weeks following mum's death. I was building a fort for myself*. When it came to it, my mind refused to open the door. It preferred staring into space, crying and making me clean every corner of the house over and over.

This is good. After months of looking after mum, the house needed some TLC.

I've started to dip into the file over the last couple of days. Nothing too wearisome but something; a line here and there. Thirty-two stories won't emerge from the file and at some point I'll have to drag out the ones that could go somewhere - prays for at least ten workable stories. Then, I guess I'll have to get back on the submission horse. I think I'll call him Cripes for no other reason than that's what just came into my head.


*mention of a fort made me think of this picture (taken at Formby). An awesome fort of trees amongst the sand dunes.