All Stories, Writing

Week 199 – Dwindling, A Bloody Hole And Wanting To Be Quoted

Here we are at Week 199

Next week will be our four year anniversary but more on that next week.

I wrote some stories this week. Well I wrote two and tidied one that had been lying about for a while and I hadn’t got round to editing it.

I do sometimes miss just concentrating on stories but to be truthful I don’t have much inspiration these days and even less concentration.

I wondered why and that is what gave me an idea for this posting. (Regarding inspiration. The other, whatever it was is just me getting older!)

I suppose writing is like being a young adult. Everything is new and you experience life with a wee bit of awe. There is the potential of opportunity. You are immortal. You are focused on how you want your life to pan out.

Then you get older. And fuck all works out the way that you wanted it.

You begin to realise:

Beer never tastes as good as when it was illegal.

Work has become a chore and not an ambition.

Sex has no mystery.

You know what a punch in the face feels like.

New tastes happen very infrequently.

You only want to go backwards with music as very little newer stuff gets you excited.

Movies are continually re-hashed.

It’s hard to get that mystery, that topic to explore with some gusto when you’ve been ground down to the dust from dust.

I think that is when we move on and start writing about death. It’s all we fucking have to look forward to!

I’ve been writing about death for a while. I think it all began around my sixth birthday. I was such a happy child. (‘Wee Jimmy The Decomposing Corpse, Does, Says And Feels Nothing’ was one of my particular favourites, but then my work got depressing.)

But no matter what they write, anyone who picks up a pen is always looking for that idea that has never been done before. We would bargain our soul for that. We strive for the meaningful line and would sell out just to be quoted in one of those philosopher sayings type books that sit in dentist waiting rooms. It’s great to quote some smart arse after you have had a molar ripped from your jaw bone. Although doing it with a Novocaine induced speech impediment somewhat takes away the effect.

I have thought on this long and hard and the ideas that I have in progress will probably never get off the ground. So far I have:

‘Jimmy Saville A Misunderstood Saint.’

‘Abraham Lincoln’s Vertigo Suffering Dandruff.’

‘The Bible In Porn’

‘Scotland’s Love Of Thatcher’

‘The Talented Bieber’

‘Using Children As Spare-Parts.’

‘The Truth Of The Catholic Church.’

‘Space – Who Gives A Fuck?’

‘His Well Worn Knee Pads – A Choirboys Story.’

‘Scatting – Pure Romance.’

There are a couple that could work, maybe I should submit??


We have still plenty of enthusiasm from our writers and this week we had another new author.

Subjects include; a child tormentor, a collection, selection, levitation and a pet.


First up on Monday we had Mark Joseph Kevlock with his second story for us, ‘The Tall Man.’

‘Pretty scary to be honest.’

‘Great tone, there are a few levels to this.’

‘This could be left up to the reader.’


David W. Landrum was our new author of the week. We welcome him and hope he has a long association with us.

Grendel’s Pouch‘ was next up on Tuesday.

‘The MC was very strong and interesting.’

‘This was a story with layers of meaning.’

‘Believable atmosphere and well constructed.’


I really do think we need to use the medium of dance for the next author as we have completely run out of accolades for him.

The legend that is Tom Sheehan broke the back of the week with ‘Rags

‘Intricate writing and singular word choices.’

‘We are left to think on the relationship between the husband and wife.’

‘Just typically Tom!’


Roger Ley continues to add to his ever growing back catalogue.

Five Years‘ was published on Thursday.

‘This really won me over.’

‘I enjoyed the simplicity of the story. Too many Science Fiction pieces over explain.’

‘This was all about the reveal.’


And we finished off on Friday with Arthur Davis’s short, ‘Christine-Ann Corbin.’

‘What a weird wee story.’

‘I have to say this really did amuse me.’

‘I love the suggestions but no real answers.’


That’s us for another week.

Three other things happened over the last seven days.

It was bonfire night, it was my nephew Rikki’s birthday and the anniversary of when I began officially working. Thinking on those thirty-five sodding, depressing, bastarding years nearly had me tanning the booze we got for him and throwing myself on a bonfire, not so much like Fawkes, more like some sort of ‘Cron Of Arc!’




And our usual reminder:

Please get involved with our Sunday Re-Run Post.

Just have a look back, write a wee spiel and we will do the rest!!!

8 thoughts on “Week 199 – Dwindling, A Bloody Hole And Wanting To Be Quoted”

  1. I think a quote about wanting to be quoted would make a pretty good quote.
    “We strive for the meaningful line and would sell out just to be quoted in one of those philosopher sayings type books that sit in dentist waiting rooms” has a nice ring of truth to it.


    1. Hi Dave,
      Maybe I shouldn’t be so keen. Most of the quoted quotes are from ex-people.
      Thanks as always!
      All the very best my friend.


  2. You seem a bit low. Depression is why our ancestors (perhaps sensing the limited future of the species) invented drugs and alcohol. For whatever reason we can’t cure the common cold but we have an unerring talent for finding the things that give us a buzz. The people back then were giants of humanity. Heroes. I wonder how many of these low-browed types died from putting saber-toothed tiger feces in their mouths and drinking death cup mushroom squeezings until they stumbled upon the forefathers of Vicodin and vodka. Or was there a time when people, when it came to locating such stuff, were like truffle sniffing pigs? “Pig” probably best describes what these heroes smelled like. I’m certain that the concept of wiping one’s butt doesn’t predate the invention of beer. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do. Perhaps it is time for somebody to write THE book (probably an encyclopedia) on the noble history on getting effed up. Now that is hardly an original idea, but as certain as Saville would be now be on the spit in hell (if there was such a place), a person could get rich doing it if they provided a DIY index for such a thing.


    1. Hi Leila,
      Like lard and alcohol, depression is in our blood.
      We look at happy people with suspicion and revulsion. That is why we try to sell tourists tweed. It itches like fuck.
      An Encyclopedia of getting ‘oot yir tits’ has appeal. It would be a challenge to work our way through.
      Thanks as always for your continual interest in all my nonsense. It is much appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Hi Hugh. I’ve just returned to the site after an absence. You sound in need of a stimulant. Or a holiday. Get away for a couple of days. Let the wind and the rain get inside your head. And smile. The world can be such a chore – sometimes it’s great to buck it off your back/shoulders and take a break. Perhaps you recall when a drink at the pub turned into a two day event. Or a festival where you could lose yourself for a couple of days. Drink in the pleasure. And let the world go hang. Des


    1. Cheers Des,
      I’m a great believer in the therapeutic values of alcohol. The problem is, when we really need a drink that is exactly when we can’t have one!
      Looking forward to seeing you around!


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