@GaryTroia's Practical Advice for Writers #AmWriting #WriteTip #Fiction

Since I was a child in primary school I have always had a yearning to create stories from nothing. I left school without qualifications, but with some encouragement from certain teachers concerning a few stories I had written. Now I was out in the big world, and having to earn a living. I thought it was about time to forget the big idea of writing; but that yearning, so deep within me, just wouldn’t let it go.

I finally relented to the yearning and bought myself my first computer. I was so excited. Now I could write stories to my heart’s content. But there was a problem, a big problem. Every time I sat down in front of the computer, the blank white screen in front of me stared me down, winning every time. I had some ideas, but I just could never get beyond the first chapter. My first chapters were always quite good, which is not surprising, given the amount of time I worked on them, tinkering around and pondering essentials, such as should this be a comma, or perhaps; a semi colon? I ended up with a whole pile of excellent first chapters.

I decided that I would never know how those first chapters would turn out in the end, because I was far too fearful to let myself go and find out. If I ever did let myself go on the very infrequent second chapter, my ego would soon shut down proceedings by bombarding me with ideas of doubt, ridicule, and unworthiness. So I ended up giving in to fear and shutting the lid of my laptop on my dreams of writing.

One fine day, I was walking passed Richmond College, and there was an open day, so I decided to walk in and have a look. I naturally gravitated towards the literature side of things. I picked up a little booklet of courses, and saw immediately a course that was titled, How to write a…novel in a month. Needles to say I signed my name on the dotted line.

When I turned up for my first day, the class was packed. And no wonder, who would not want to learn of a way to write a novel in a month? I think many of those in the class thought they were going to get magical fairy dust sprinkled on them, but of course, it wasn’t that easy.

The idea of writing a novel in a month consisted in pledging oneself to write 1,677 words each day, so at the end of the month you would have 30,000 words of a novel, at least a first draft. I did it, and realised that the magic consisted not in fairy dust, but the magic of writing faster than your doubts can form, and making a pledge to keep you sat in the chair every day and write those 1,677 words. It is quite amazing what can be achieved with daily discipline.

For the first time ever, this collection of short stories by Gary Troia brings together, in chronological order stories and memoirs from Spanish Yarns and Beyond, English Yarns and Beyond and A Bricklayer’s Tales into one complete volume.

“Excellent! A collection of short stories about depression, alcoholism and drug use. Very compelling reading. I read this short story collection all in one go.” (Maria, Goodreads.)

A Bricklayer’s Tales is the ultimate “I hate this job” story, written as a collection of short stories and memoirs, each one revealing a snapshot in the life of Ray. Troia captures the tedium of working in a low paid, menial job and living hand to mouth. This book of short stories is sad and questions the reader to ask questions about their own life. This book achieves clarity without trying.

Ray has three expensive hobbies: drinking, drugs, and running away. Without the income that Bricklaying provides, he would not be able to maintain his chosen lifestyle, so he compromises his principles and continues with his trade.

A collection of short stories and memoirs that include:

The Cuckoo’s Egg. Boyhood antics lead to tragedy.

My Grandfather’s Shed. The making of an English key

No Comb on the Cock. Gypsies, champion fighting cocks, and career choices.

What I Did In My Summer Holidays In 1000 Words. Could having an idea ever be considered a criminal act?

My Best Mate’s Head. Did a weekend of boozing save Ray from certain death?

The Shetland Isles. A trip to sunny Benidorm, a chance meeting with some Glaswegians, and a cold, miserable job in Lerwick.

Pointing a House in Islington. Too much alcohol and cocaine don’t mix well on building sites!

Angel Dust. The peculiar story of a man whose new life in America leads to conversations with Ancient Greek philosophers

Peyote. Hippies, LSD and an idyllic refuge

Return Ticket. Handcuffed and ready for deportation. A sad departure from the States

When I Joined a Cult. Sober dating as Ray discovers religion.

Bilbao. How very, very English!

Teaching Other People. The grass is always greener-the escape from bricklaying.

A Week in the Life of Ray Dennis. With the prospect of no money for food or alcohol this Christmas, Ray has to find work quickly.

Catania. A meeting with a Sicilian fox, some Neapolitans, and a man with a camel haired coat.

Advert In The Art Shop Window. Will a new building job in Spain be the start of a new life?

Gaudi. A flight to Barcelona for a kebab, and a look at the Sagrada Familia.

The Day My Soul Left Me. “To be or not to be? That is the question”

How Not to Travel to The Alhambra. Hung-over, the wrong fuel, the car breaks down. Will they ever make it to Granada?

The Road To Ronda. A terrifying drive to Ronda, was it worth it?

Poking A Carob Tree. A new home and new neighbours, just in time for Christmas.

Spain Reborn.No more commuting to London. Lets celebrate!

Home From Home. A parallel world where the Spanish have taken over Weymouth.

Three Common Carp.An epic battle with a whale and marlin it is not.

Mrs. McClintock. An absurd farce in which a Glaswegian couple retire to Spain

Steak, Egg and Intensive Care. A harmless dinner leads to hospitalisation.

The Unchangeable Chameleon. Can a leopard change it’s spots?

A Bricklayer’s Tale. The story of a disillusioned, alcoholic bricklayer

A collection short stories and memoirs of British dark humour.

 Buy Now @ Amazon

Genre - Fiction, Short Stories

Rating - PG-16

More details about the author

Connect with Gary Troia on Facebook & Twitter

A Day In The Life Of @Ted_Tayler #AmReading #BookClub #ShortStory

Friday 14th March 7am:- Awake early; why did I hear an alarm clock? Oh yes, I remember now, daughter Kim and her husband Mal arrived yesterday afternoon from Wales. He’s taking her car over to a garage six miles away for an annual service. They took us out to dinner last night at a local restaurant and stayed over because the car is booked in for eight o’clock. Why does that need me to be awake at such an ungodly hour! Turn over and try to go back to sleep.

It’s now half past seven and Kim is in the shower. I’m awake again! Grumpy, so I may as well get up. Mal has left already because the fog is pretty thick this morning. Nobody else seems keen on breakfast so I get myself a cup of coffee and a bowl of porridge. Bailey, their dog comes across to see if there’s anything on offer. He gets short shrift. The bathroom is now free! I shower and get dressed. When I get back downstairs Lynne and Kim are watching TV; not a channel I spend any time on! Let’s get cracking on the computer then. I check a dozen emails, drop into Twitter and Facebook, and do a bit of housekeeping on my website. It might be time to start work on my Orangeberry Guest Posts.

Completed ’10 Things’ about me; almost ran out of ideas and resorted to putting ‘I can’t count’ down for number 10 but suddenly had an inspiration. The girls are still glued to the TV. I get my coat; it must be my turn to go for the papers again. The fog is thinning, with luck it will be clear by the time Mal & Kim drive back to Wales later. I pick up the papers from the nearest garage. When I get back the girls want to have first look, so I get back to work on my posts. Mal returns with a clean bill of health about eleven o’clock. For the car that is. An hour later they’re all packed up and we’re waving the three of them off as they make their way home. Two people wave back; Bailey wags his tail.

I break for lunch at one o’clock and spend an hour with Lynne in conversation about the weekend. Will we see our other two children and the grandkids? Will we be able to get out in the garden and do some more tidying up? What did we say we were going to have for dinner on Sunday? Where is that in the freezer? Will I need to go rooting about in there tonight or tomorrow morning to track it down?

Lynne goes into town to pick up a few things we didn’t get yesterday when we did our ‘big’ shop. I get back to writing. Time passes; the light is fading. Lynne has been back for a while but no sign of any reviving cup of coffee. Oh well, let’s call it quits for this afternoon. Heck! It’s almost six o’clock. That’s enough writing for today. Just about five hours completed. Another couple of items ticked off the list.

Downstairs in the kitchen I think about dinner; then I start cooking it. Lynne and I eat about seven and then we watch some early evening television together with a glass of wine. We’ve both been up since ‘silly o’clock’ and Lynne is flagging. She decides to have an early night. I tell her I’ll see her in the morning. I get ready to go out. It’s Friday night after all! There’s a new band I haven’t heard on at the pub in town. A couple of hours until the early morning with my friend Jack (Daniels) listening to their set and then I can get up later tomorrow morning to post my review.

Friday 10pm – that’s all folks! I’m off to the pub. Sleep well!

A collection of twelve short stories with an unexpected twist at the end. There are love stories, ghost stories and tales of revenge, all sprinkled with a touch of humour. In fact there’s something for everyone, young or old. There are characters and situations you will readily recognise, but will you identify ‘the sting in the tale’ before you turn the final page?

Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre - Short Story Collection

Rating – PG

More details about the author

Connect with Ted Tayler through Facebook & Twitter

Website http://tedtayler.co.uk

Shy Feet: #ShortStories Inspired by Travel by Frances M. Thompson #Contemporary #MustRead

The following is an extract from The Runaways, one of the twelve short stories in Shy Feet: Short Stories Inspired by Travel.

THE RUNAWAYS

Moments later I had a bag packed. I’d found earrings that used to belong to my grandmother and a lace shawl that Mum had given me for Christmas one year. As I folded it, I felt a little sad about them not being there to see me get married.

A tender tap on my door and there he was, wearing a grey three-piece suit complete with a too-tight tie knot. I’d never seen him dressed like this before and it reminded me that he was a man full of surprises. I loved how he saw life as one big party after another and how he had an outfit for each one. Of course, I also liked how good-looking he was, with those kind blue eyes and his broad, giving grin. He made me feel lucky; lucky that he’d chosen me over all the other girls he could have had. I knew Debbie liked him and just the other week I found Lucy playing with her hair as they chatted in the kitchen. I loved him for choosing me.

There was an old brown suitcase by his feet. Nobody carried suitcases like that these days. I loved him for being different.

I kissed him firmly on the lips. It felt like the start of something.

“Let’s go,” I whispered.

* * * * *

He paid for First Class tickets and we settled into wide, upright chairs. Across from us a middle-aged man with a briefcase gave us an uneasy look before opening up a laptop and typing with few interruptions. I slipped my hand under my future husband’s and fell asleep.

* * * * *

Bath was more beautiful than I remembered. The buildings were taller, the hills steeper and the streets longer. I used to think things got smaller as I grew older. For once, it was nice to be proved wrong.

Our hotel was far grander than I liked to think about. I had almost no money to contribute to our adventure. Nonetheless, I smiled foolishly as I stroked the plump white towels folded in our bathroom and I squealed when he leapt onto the giant bed and bounced into me. How would we ever go back to sharing my single bed again?

I didn’t ask how long we were going to stay but as he pulled me to him, his tie loosened already, I hoped for forever.

* * * * *

We gave notice for our marriage that afternoon. I clutched the confirmation so tightly it creased around my fingertips.

It was a mixed happiness as two numbers abruptly slowed the pace of our plans.

Seven was the number of days we had to live in the city before they would marry us. And fifteen was the number of days the notice needed to be displayed in the Registry Office before we could legally wed. They were bureaucratic necessities that reminded me of the real world and they made me question it all again. I asked Johnny if it was worth it. What about the hotel bill? What about those who would miss us and worry? Would they try and find us? What would we say afterwards? How would we tell them? What happens next?

He soothed my fears and made arrangements for us to stay and wait – new clothes, a backgammon board and a pack of cards. I made a series of lying phone calls home and to Debbie, saying I’d gone on an unplanned creative writing retreat and that’s why I couldn’t be reached on the phone in my room. They knew about my books and my secret ambition to be a writer; they showed no sign of surprise and certainly no concern. Johnny was right, I needn’t worry…

In those fifteen days I learned that Johnny liked to sing Frank Sinatra in the shower, that he flossed every day and that he drank half an inch of whiskey in bed before turning the light off. We were slow to wake up in the mornings but quick to never miss breakfast. Some days we took the train further west and I watched England’s endless green blur into cities I’d never visited before; Bristol, Taunton and Weston-super-Mare. Most afternoons we took to strolling around Bath hand-in-hand, often ending up in the tearoom I remembered from my first visit. We made friends with the owner, a stout woman called Rosemary who wore mismatched floral prints and turquoise eye shadow. We shared our secret with her and she called us the “young lovers”, forcing free cake on us during each visit. I feared my dress wasn’t going to fit.

But it did. When the day arrived, it did.

"This collection of stories is like a blanket woven from 100% wanderlust under which you can hide as Frances M. Thompson tucks you in with her words and keeps you warm with her descriptions of characters you'll love and places you can tell she knows by heart." Gesa Neitzel, www.bedouinwriter.com

Shy Feet: Short Stories Inspired by Travel is a collection of twelve quirky, charismatic and touching tales of travel.

The inquisitive Ruth tells the story of The Lost Children of Gatwick Airport and in Max's Holiday we learn what a seven-year-old boy considers a "proper holiday" to be. In The Flowers Sleep Tonight, we meet Thomas and Carly, two solo travellers whose paths keep crossing... because that's exactly what Thomas wants. A spontaneous plan to elope is revealed in The Runaways and Homes from Homes is about the lessons Patricia learns from the hotel bellboy she has a fling with. 

Oh, Henry is the story of how a dream holiday can mean two different things to two lovers and Katie's Maps is an offbeat love letter to a vast collection of maps. Extracts from a travel journal tell one woman's life story in All the Beaches are Made of Pebbles and find out what Australia and underpants have to do with Claudia wanting to leave her husband of forty years in The Road is Long.

From the unforgiving Australian Outback to the jagged beauty of the Amalfi Coast, along the pebbled beaches of Brighton & Hove and down the busy streets of late night Barcelona, this collection of short stories highlights how travel intersects and enriches all of our lives, often without us realising it...

"Shy Feet: Short Stories Inspired by Travel transports you to exotic locales without leaving your armchair and leaves you wanting more... Frances M. Thompson has a novel in her and I can't wait to read it." Nathalie Harris, www.acooknotmad.com

Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords

Genre – Short Stories, Contemporary Fiction

Rating – PG13

More details about the author

Connect with Frances M Thompson on Facebook & Twitter

Website http://www.asthebirdfliesblog.com