The Red Dress – published on Tulpa magazine 🙂
The woman in the dress shop told her mother, Janelle, it fitted perfectly. ‘This is so now you know,’ she’d said, standing next to Rosie in front of the ornate mirror. ‘Red is the colour. Haven’t you seen it on the best catwalks?’ Janelle shrugged, pulling the dress down over Rosie’s knees. A whisper of […]
Great post by Alison Williams Writing, on Dickens himself, and good first lines 🙂
Charles Dickens was born on this day in 1812. One of my favourite writers, he has a lot to teach us today (and some of his compassion and philanthropy wouldn’t go amiss either).
I wrote this post about opening lines a few years ago, but Dickens was the master of them, so in celebration of his birthday, here it is again.
The opening line for your novel must draw your reader in. They should read that first line and think: I need to read this book. I want to know what happens.
So how do you create a great first line? That’s a difficult thing to try and explain. The best thing to do, as with most things, is to read. And when you read, think about your reaction to that opening line. Do you want to read on? If so, why? And if not, why not? I can do…
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A short story, inspired by a chat I had recently with a friend’s little girl!
The day I met a Monster
Monsters are real. As real as you and I. They don’t just exist in fairy tales, or in the silly children’s books that mum reads to my baby sister. Mum should know better than to fill her head with goblins and fairies or tell her that monsters only come with bright yellow eyes, and are kind really. They’re not.
Monsters are much cleverer than that. They are not huge lumpy things, like in the cartoons or in my favorite film, Monsters Inc. Those monsters are tame by comparison.
Monsters live around us, in the nooks and crannies of our old house, lying dormant underneath the creaking old floorboards. They are in the park that we go to, in broad sunshine. They stand under the shade of the oak tree outside our shops, the acorns bouncing on their heads. But they don’t move, they wait.
Grown-ups chose not to see them. They hurry past the oak trees, look away when we’re on the swings, talk to each other when the monsters walk past. I know this, have figured it out a long time ago.
They just want a moment to sneak into the sunshine.
Grown-ups won’t give them an inch.
So they stand in the shadows, creep around the park, the house, the sidewalk.
But I know they’re there.
I’ve seen them with my own two eyes.
And I’m going to tell you my story. It’s about
The day I met a Monster.
Suzanne Bowditch, 2019
#shortstory #fiction #monsters #thedayimetamonster #writer #creative