Blog Archives – Miss Write

This is my short story for Halloween 2012, DAWN OF THE DINERS. Towcester Writers seemed to like it, so I entered it into an Ether Books competition and ended up placed 4th out of 64. I’m pretty pleased with that, since it was my first ever spooky or horror themed piece!

It’s available to download to your iPhone or iPad from the Ether Books app, should you want it easy access to scare folks tonight. 

I know a couple of people have been keen to read it and don’t have an i-whatsit, so here it is. Thanks for reading and a HUGE thanks to all who downloaded the story originally through Ether Books.

Lou x

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P.S. Thanks to the brilliant Sarah Logan from Cake Short and Sweet for the title inspiration!

                                                              – – – – – 

Dawn of the Diners

Digging and shovelling. The metallic sounds of the spade sliced through the ground.

The gravedigger was a little later this year with his annual job of unveiling the graveyard. ‘Early bird catches the worm’ was his mantra, even if his clients preferred a more substantial diet.

Her eyes still closed, Marjorie ran her tongue along her teeth and smiled. ‘Not lost any this year,’ she noted to herself, not without a sense of pride. She’d always had good teeth. Rotating her aching ankles and rolling her shoulders, she readied herself for some freedom. Marjorie had been cooped up in her rotting abode for far too long; she needed some fresh air. Fresh food. Her breathing was shallow, having woken from an extended hibernation. The thought of the forth-coming feast only quickened the process of the re-awakening.

Autumn was her favourite time of year. Unlike most of her kind, Marjorie took in the surroundings while she was on the rampage. The leaves gently crunched under foot; every year it was a softer sound than she recalled. Birds welcomed winter, singing songs of encouragement to their families to begin the migration south. The sun shone a shine which would have made for a deliciously hot summers day, had there not been a biting wind. It was a beautiful morning to start anew.

Scraping and scooping. Marjorie could hear the gravedigger shuffling around a few inches above her head. He was getting closer. Six feet under is quite a way down to dig. Some of her older friends took great pride in showing their age in explaining this was due to the spread of the 14th Century Bubonic plague epidemic. The depth of the graves certainly made life more difficult for the caretaker of the ancient churchyard around Halloween. At least it prevents foxes digging them up – every zombie’s worst nightmare, an unpleasant early wakening for the dormant dead.

Marjorie loved her job (with 364 days annual leave who would complain?!) and couldn’t wait to get started. She enjoyed the reunions, the celebratory feasting, and the frantic ways her friends lived out a full year in a day. You can probably imagine, there was not a lot to catch up on gossip-wise as the vast majority of her decomposing friends had been snoozing for 12 months. However, there were always the newbies to meet, the stories from the more intrepid day trippers, a lot of sex, and some of the more house-bound caught up on their Dexter box sets – all alongside almost constant feeding. It was a full life, as far as the ‘living’ could be described. All they had to do was make sure they were back in their graves before November arrived. It was a busy day, by anyone’s standards.

Cutting and sawing. It sounded like a freshly oiled tool to Marjorie; perhaps she was first to be seen to this year. She could hear grunts from the effort it took to saw through the thinning, rotting wooden box. Marjorie wondered how many more Halloweens the old man would see. The gravedigger would retire one day, or hopefully join them underground. The church would probably recruit a replacement. Marjorie couldn’t imagine what that job description would say and how much of the role would remain ‘unofficial’…

Marjorie’s breathing was returning to normal. She reached up to smooth her 105 year old hair as best she could, and examined her rotten fingernails. Such a contrast from when she was Living. She missed feeling clean and ladylike, but one could only do so much with such a decaying mess of a corpse.

A final brush down of dirt. A stilted upwards wrench of the lid, splitting in the damp. The coffin was going to need a new lid in a year or so. A sudden burst of daylight caused Marjorie to squint. Still lying on her wooden bed, she lifted her arm to shield her eyes until they readjusted. With a small nod to his friend, the old man, silhouetted against the sun, shuffled off to the next grave to continue his work. “Paul Peterson,” the headstone announced. He was a relatively new addition to the graveyard. Marjorie privately hoped he’d remember her from last year’s festivities.

Marjorie groaned; eventually she convinced her putrid body it needed to stretch its legs. Being held in a horizontal position with no wiggle room for 12 months meant that her first few achy steps proved to be awkward. Arthritis wasn’t exactly a typical problem of the living dead, but her creaking limbs had seized up after a year of rest and it was painful to sit up.

She limped off down the overgrown cobbled pathway, partly hampered by her sore joints, and also by her worn heels. They’d never been very suited to the annual stumble towards the town. Marjorie was, as she suspected, the first one to wake this season. She glanced around the quiet churchyard, noticing a couple of new shrubs in the border by the chapel’s entrance. There were also a couple of gravestones marked ‘2012’. The flowers were fresh and the grass laid on the grave was peppered with footprints – always a telling sign. The older graves rarely got visitors.

‘Before long, this place will be full!’ Marjorie thought. Being a zombie wasn’t how it used to be. It was much more fun when there was less competition. Reaching out to open the gate, she noticed the fresh coat of paint it had had. The world had moved on since last year.

‘I’m getting too old for this,’ she thought.

Louise Gibney
October 2012

 

Ok, well, a vote for my spooky story at least. Fellow writers and readers, iPad and iPhone users, are you game? 

I’d written my first Halloween themed story, and tested it out at Towcester Writers’ Group last week. Now I’ve gathered enough (eye)balls this week to submit it to the Halloween Ether Books contest. All I need is your vote! 

Long story made short: Last month, an important relationship of mine broke down and I have had to move from a large two bed flat to one room in a mate’s (smaller) flat. Hence the car boot sale from last weekend. 

I learned a lot from my fellow salesmen and women, I made a fair bit of dosh, and not wanting to pass by an opportunity to write, I’ve put together my 13 tops tips on how to sell successfully at the British tradition of a car boot. 

Tip 1. Have plastic carrier bags available for your customers; they’re always asking if you have any they can pinch. The best place to keep them is hanging off a wing mirror – quick access and they don’t blow away. 

Tip 2. Use a pasting table. They fold up nicely, their lightweight, and easy to erect. You could take a table cloth if you want to go for presentation. If you’re selling furniture (I sold garden recliners, surprisingly easy sale even in October) you can use them as makeshift tables too. Some traders take tarpaulins to put goods out on display on floor.  You can also display your waterproof items (pans, flower pots etc.) on the floor to get the maximum use out of your pitch. 

Tip 3. Remember to bring a float. I had a dream the night before my car boot that a child ripped up six tenners I’d made, and it reminded me I needed to take some change with me the next morning. Grabbing a coffee from the local garage gave me the 50p’s and £1’s in change which I needed Quick and easy access is essential here; custom can come quite quickly so you need to be ready. I took about £25 in change to be on the safe side, and kept it in a not-so-trendy-but-very-useful bumbag. 

Tip 4. Rope a friend in to help – good for a gossip during the quieter moments.  

Tip 5. Wrap up warm, it’s cold at 6am! I’m talking woolly hat, layers, gloves…the works! Take an umbrella in case it rains. If you get enough warning that it looks like it might rain, don’t be disheartened – see it as a business opportunity and buy some cheap umbrellas to sell! Be warned though, a wet morning may mean fewer bargain hunters. If you have another weekend you can do the car boot, I would rearrange. 

Tip 6. I would recommend that you wear your old Wellington boots. Not all venues have a hard-standing, and fields can get a bit boggy if it rained the night before.

Tip 7. Use a clothes rail for good presentation. And let people take the hangers if they want them! Funny how ‘off’ people can get about a measly hanger…

Tip 8. Fiction books weren’t very popular on my stall. It might have been the lack of variety, but I went home with most of them. My random recipe books went down well though. 

Things which sold best for me:

Garden items (furniture, tools)

CDs

Shoes and clothes

Umbrellas – even on that dry morning! 

Tip 9. Be flexible on price. I just wanted everything to go, so I wasn’t shy about selling items at a cheaper price than I’d originally hoped for. You won’t get great prices for anything really, but if you’re only going to bin or donate the stuff if it doesn’t sell, £1 for something is better than a no-sale. If you sell 50 things at £1 you’ve made £50 straight away! Better than having to cart the whole lot home again…

Tip 10. It’s a long six or seven hours, so take snacks to get you through the morning. Buying off the vendors will only eat into your profits. Fans of hot drinks will do well to prepare a tea flask – you’ll welcome it, trust me.

Tip 11. Fill your car as much booty as possible. Make sure you take as much to sell as possible to make it worthwhile. You have to make back your £5-7 pitch fee at least! Go through all your cupboards (be ruthless!) and ask your parents, friends, work colleagues if they have anything they want to get rid of. They may let you keep some of the profit if they’re feeling nice.

Tip 12. Chat to the trader on the next pitch. It might help pass any quiet minutes and could produce a useful ally if you need a loo break. There might even be an idea for a story in their chatter. My neighbour gave me a great line when I commented she had quite a varied stock on her tables: “Well, some people would call it stealing, but I don’t get paid overtime at work, so I think it’s justified…” She had scanners, printers, office supplies, all alongside your normal bits ‘n’ bobs. Actually, on second thoughts, be cautious about leaving your stall and stock in the hands of your neighbour. Just stick a cork in it and wait until you get home to pee!

Tip 13. Take your leftover stock to a charity shop. If you were willing to sell it, you don’t need to take it home to clutter up your cupboards again. Plus, you’ll get a wonderful feel-good buzz. 

If you’re interested in making some extra (tax free!) dollar at a car boot sale, check Car Boot Junction for your local venue. My little Yaris was the smallest vehicle on the field that morning, but I shifted most of my stock and made almost £60 from stuff I was only going to donate.  Hopefully these tips will help you do the same. 

Until next time…

Lou x

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So you know the song. The crazed South Korean export of the century, ‘Gangnam Style’. Yes, ‘Gangnam’ means ‘new money’ in Seoul, but it now means a new dance. Psy’s parodying the wealthy, the powerful, and the famous, but ironically the 34 year old rapper has ended up a star himself. This week Psy, aka Park Jae-sang, is No.1 in the UK Official Singles Chart and no one seems to know why. 

Apart from my Zumba class.

There’s been much comment made on the social commentary of the lyrics, the spreading of parody efforts (my favourite is Lord of the Rings related!), the man behind the dance, and the song’s rapid rise to fame, but I’m going to look at Psy’s record breaker – Zumba Style.  

Kudos to my Zumba teacher, Red. She had her finger on the pulse before there was an addictive beat to feel for. When Red (also known as Jen) first demonstrated the riding-a-horse-without-anything-equine-between-your-legs dance, we all thought she’d lost it. However Towcester’s Thursday night Zumba class luckily gave her the benefit of the doubt. Before we knew it we were begging her to play it again. We were hooked, Gangnam style. 

And the love of the song is catching. Have you seen this You Tube clip of his recent 80,000 strong gig audience? They’re mad for him and his iconic dance.

The official video has 375 million views on YouTube at time of writing, something the Guinness Book of Records was very impressed with. ‘Gangnam Style’ video has also become the most liked video ever on YouTube. EVER. He’s shoved even Bieber right off the top spot. However, I do wonder who bothers to ‘like’ things on YouTube. Ah, I know. They’re probably all Zumba dance nuts like me!

Part of the initial interest in ‘Gangnam Style’, I have to admit, was maybe a kind of freak-show interest, when you think the guy’s a hoot. But then you look at his (own) choreography (and Alan Carr’s take last night on Chatty Man!) and you realize that you actually need to know how to dance to pull off the Gangnam hop so successfully. Our Zumba class adaptation proves that, and Psy’s got energy, attitude, and a healthy heart any exercise class enthusiast would envy.

He’s broken YouTube video records, he’s broken America, even almost broken Britney’s heels,  and now he’s broken UK Zumba groups.

Maybe the new Zumba outfit should have a black bow tie on it?

Lou x

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Ray Bradbury

This week I came across a fantastic quote I thought deserved an entire blog post devoted to it. It’s words carefully created and delivered by Ray Bradbury, the prolific writer who died in June this year.

As a writer, this is a true quote, words of wisdom. Something to think about.

“If you want to write, if you want to create, you must be the most sublime fool that God ever turned out and sent rambling. You must write every single day of your life. You must read dreadful dumb books and glorious books, and let them wrestle in beautiful fights inside your head, vulgar one moment, brilliant the next. You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads. I wish you a wrestling match with your Creative Muse that will last a lifetime. I wish craziness and foolishness and madness upon you. May you live with hysteria, and out of it make fine stories — science fiction or otherwise. Which finally means, may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.”

Writer Ray Bradbury held a writing career that spanned more than seventy years. He inspired “generations of readers to dream, think, and create” [RayBradbury.com]. Bradbury was a poet, a playright, who also wrote for screen and produced hundreds of short stories. He penned more novels than I can imagine. Bradbury’s works include “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, “Fahrenheit 451”, and “Dandelion Wine”. 

Keep writing!

Lou x

www.facebook.com/louise.gibney.writer
@misswriteuk

Photo courtesy of Here and Now.