January 3 2016

Better late then never…

So I’ve started off my blog and writing promises badly…

This sounds typical of me at the moment, my head is not where it is meant to be.

It’s now the 3rd of January 2016 and I haven’t done anything, I need to make up for it – how I hear you ask?  I will try to write something each day, and write one extra piece to help the tally.

This piece counts as one piece of writing, so I have two more pieces to do to make it one for each day of the year.  I have some ideas but haven’t decided what to do, as some of the ideas may also be suitable for my thesis this year.  That’s the hard part I need to decide what I am doing for my thesis so I can decide what I can and can not share on here at this time.

For my thesis I have several ideas and I’m not sure which one would work best for me – I need to send an email to my advisor soon and seek her feedback, but maybe if I share my ideas here, I can get some feedback from you.. constructive feedback only please…

Thesis background:

Main part – I must produce a 25,000 words piece of creative writing which can be in the form of a novella, collection of short stories, collection of poems, a play and the like.


My first idea was to write a series of short stories based on random prompts.  I would be able to explore different genres, themes, characters and the like.

My thoughts – This appeals on the grounds that I would be writing to someone else’s criteria – but it may also be a bit of a cope out because I can’t come up with my own ideas.


Same as above but using the same character (with same history and responses) throughout the stories to explore how the character would act or react to the different situations and scenarios.

My thoughts – I like the idea of exploring one character in different situations, but am concerned that the character could become repetitive and boring.


A series of short stories based on my memories growing up and personal prompts (like letters and photos), sharing some of the funny stuff and the hard stuff.

My thoughts – Definitely harder to write, and I am concerned that I will upset people (especially family) with some of my memories and my feelings about those memories (both my feelings then and my feelings now reflecting back on them).  Some of these are not ones I want to share publicly, so they are ones that I would never share on my blog.


Simply put – Bryce’s story.

My thoughts – I’m not ready to write his story yet, he is only 8 years old and has a full life to live yet.  Hardest one yet for me.  There would be some very hard to read truths.  I don’t want to do this one yet.

So, I don’t know what I want to do blog-wise or thesis-wise, I probably have some other ideas, but this list is breaking them down into base ideas for now, easily expanded upon.  I know that ideas 3 and 4 will be the hardest ones yet, and both of them will require a lot of soul-searching and honesty – I don’t think I would call that creative writing, both more like memoirs, not sure if suitable for either a creative writing thesis or a blog.

Idea 2 I like the best because I like the idea of one person in many situations, imagine someone who can be a historical fiction or a horror or a comedy and seeing how they cope.  I wouldn’t say someone who was time shifting, but a similar concept – genre-jumping?  Is that a word?  Maybe I should research this idea more…  It’s kind of appealing…

Has anyone read any similar type of work? Any suggestions?

I started this blog with some ideas but no direction, now thanks to some random thoughts and writing, I now have an idea that appeals, that at least warrants some research and investigation, an idea I can take to my advisor to see what she thinks of the concept.

Thanks for reading.




December 11 2015

Writing Prompt # 1

PROMPT: “The story must involve some boots or shoes in the beginning.”

SOURCE: http://www.seventhsanctum.com/

TITLE:  Red Door

Shoes!  There were hundreds of shoes lined up against the wall outside the red door.  Shoes as far as the eye could see, where on earth did they come from?  What were they doing here?  Where was this place?

I was standing in the middle of a long street paved with white marble and gold gutters.  There were only two buildings in sight, and hundreds of shoes.  The building to my right was a short, square, black building.  It wasn’t a very enticing or interesting building, very bleak.  It had a red door.  The building on my left was magnificent, grand even, at least 10 stories high, with marvellous arches and wide sweeping stairs, I don’t know what it was made of, but it gleamed, it shone.  It’s door was golden.

As I looked at the buildings, I noticed that the there was only one pair of shoes outside the golden door.  Whose were they?  Why only one pair?  It was the much nicer and more interesting looking building, surely it was the same inside.  Why only one pair?

As I stood there looking at the buildings and the shoes, marvelling over their differences and wondering what was going on, a man walked slowly down the street.  He was an average looking man, brown closely cropped hair, brown eyes, even brown clothes.  There was nothing remarkable about him, yet he caught my attention.  It may have been because we were the only two people in this street with only two buildings and lots of shoes.

“Good afternoon,” he said in a deep voice, “Welcome.”

“Hi,” I stammered, unsure of what to say.  “Where am I? And what are all those shoes for?”

The man slowly looked first at the golden door, then at the red door.  He shrugged his shoulders, “They are choices.  Choices that you must make to find out your destiny.”

Confused, I asked, “What do you mean choices?  What choices?”

Realising that this was going to take some time, the average man sat on the ground, crossed his legs and indicated that I should sit down too.  I cast around, no chairs, no rocks, no logs, nothing to sit on but the ground.  I sat too.

“Do you know where you are?” he asked.  I shook my head, no, I had no idea.  I don’t even know how I got here, let alone where I was.

He looked me square in the eye, sighed heavily, shook his head and said softly, “You are dead.  There’s no easy way to say it.  You are dead and this limbo.”

I sat there stunned, “Are you sure?  I’m really dead?”  I didn’t believe him, not a word. “That can’t be right,” I thought, “I can’t be dead.  I don’t remember dying, I can feel my body, it’s here.  I CAN’T BE DEAD!”

The man just sat and watched me, he said not a word while I worked through the information in my head.  How could I be dead?  What happened?  Eventually, I calmed down, slowly took a deep breath and asked, “How?”

He shrugged and looked at me apologetically, “I’m sorry, I don’t know.  That’s not my job.  My job begins when you arrive here.  Most people never find out how they died.  I don’t know how I died, I’ve been here a long time, you get used to it… eventually…”

“So if you don’t know why or how I died, what is your job? What are you here for?” I asked him desperately.

“I am here to offer you two choices.  I cannot influence them or give you advice, I can only inform you of your choices, you must make the decision yourself, and once made, it cannot be changed – not matter the consequences.”

I sat confused, “Choices?  You said that before.  What choices?  What are you going on about?”

He pointed to the doors, then the shoes, “Those are your choices.  To move on in this world, you must choice a door.  The door you choose is the one you will go through, and there you will live out your eternal life.”

I contemplated this, looking from door to door, “So where do the doors go?  Where do they lead?”

“Ah… all I can tell you that one leads to hell and the other to heaven, but I cannot tell you which one goes where.  You must work that out for yourself.”

“Oh!” I replied stumped, “Surely you can tell me something about them.  Some clues, perhaps?”

He shook his head, “No!  I cannot tell you anymore about the doors or where they lead.”

“Surely…”  I stopped, I looked, I thought some more, I asked, “What about the shoes?  What are they for?  Why are there shoes?”

He smiled, “Ah…  The shoes…  Yes, I was wondering when you would get to them.  They are place holders.  Once you choose a door, you must place your shoes in the line.  When your turn comes up, you go through the door.”

I looked at him, I looked at the shoes, “But the golden door only has one pair of shoes, and the other door has hundreds.  It must take a long time to get through the red door.”

He nodded, “It does.”

“And the people?  Where are the people who are waiting to go through the doors?”

He stood, stretched his arms above his head, “That I cannot tell you.  That you must work out yourself.  Now I must go.”

“But… but…” I stammered, “But you’ve got to help me.  I don’t know which door to choose!”

“I cannot help you anymore.  It’s time for you to make your choice.  I have given you all the help I can and now I must go.  You alone must make the choice.  I wish you luck.”  With that, he walked down the street and vanished.

I stood, staring at where he had been, but he wasn’t coming back.  I was all alone.  Well, me, two doors, and hundreds of shoes.  I looked about, hoping desperately to find someone else, anyone else who could help me.  There was no one.

I sighed, breathed deeply, lifted my shoulders and walked towards the golden door.  It shone brilliantly and brightly, I stepped closer.  It seemed to draw me in.  It seemed to say pick me.  I looked closely at it, there were no handles, no visible hinges, I pushed on it lightly, it did not move.  I could see no way to open it, it must only open from the inside.

I looked at the shoes, they were brown sandals.  Normal, everyday brown sandals.  There was nothing special about them.  I picked them, they were heavy, they seemed old.  I turned them over, felt them, they seemed familiar.  I saw that there was some faint writing on the sole, it read ‘Property of Lucifer.’  Curious…

Putting the shoes back in place, I turned towards the other door, the red door.  It was dark and heavy, the building was imposing and threatening.  I did not want approach it, I shuddered.  I walked to the door and touched it, it radiated with heat, it fairly vibrated under my hand.  I did not like it at all.

I turned to the shoes… There were hundreds of them in a neat little row against the wall.  I couldn’t even see the end of the lines.  There were all sorts of shoes – work boots, stilettos, pretty little sandals, tennis shoes, sneakers, even thongs – shoes of every type.  I was puzzled, why were there so many shoes here and only one pair at the golden door.  Surely behind that beautiful door was heaven, paradise.  This ugly red door must be the entrance to hell.  Still, I had to choose.

I looked at my feet, there were no shoes on my feet.  Where were my shoes?  How could I choose if I had no shoes to place beside the door?  What was I to do now? I fell to the ground, sobbing…

“Hush there now,” said a soft voice.

“What???” I said startled, looking around in bewilderment, “Who is there?  Who said that?”

“It is I, God,” said the voice, “I have come to comfort you in your time of sadness.”

“Oh Lord,” I said, “I have no shoes, I cannot place them by the lovely golden door to heaven.”

“You have already made that choice,” replied God, “What is your name?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t remember…” I said, my crying had eased and my mind began to clear, “I don’t know my name but you do, Lord.  Please enlighten me.”


I shook my head, “No Lord, that cannot be so.”  I did not believe, I could not believe.  “But, Lord, if that is the case, then I have already chosen my door.  My shoes are at the entrance to the golden door, the door to heaven.”

“Yes.” boomed the voice, “You have chosen, but because you tried to oust me and take over heaven, I cannot allow you to return.  But because you did not choose the red door, neither can you go through it.  You are in limbo, unable to progress further until you make another choice.”

“But, Lord, benevolent father,” I begged, “You can forgive me and allow me entrance to the golden door.”