Heartbreak by Abby Grayson

I am happy to share the first entry in to this month’s competition with you. This is from a new contributor and I would like to welcome Abby on board.

I have been thinking of a way to promote other writers’ work more effectively rather than simply have it displayed on the main competition page of this site, as it has been up until now. Therefore, if the authors are happy for me to do so, I would now also propose to post all competition entries as and when they are received. All copyright of course remains with the authors and should anyone prefer for me not to publicise their work in this way, then they should just let me know at the time they post it on the competition page.

My overriding aim for this blog is to provide a forum for writers to share their work and encourage each other and I welcome all contributions. The writing prompt for this month is ‘Partings’.


Abby Grayson says:
September 3, 2013


angry face

I stare at the floor, there lies the gun
Oh my god, what have I done?
I didn’t hesitate; didn’t think twice
I know I will now pay the price

I thought you loved me one hundred percent
Until I read the text you’d sent
I was confused, it didn’t make sense
I wasn’t with you on the tenth!

We had not visited that hotel for a year
Then it dawned on me, my biggest fear
It wasn’t meant for me, that text
It was meant for your college ex

It broke my heart and ruined my life
You were about to become my wife
Our future together seemed sure and strong
How the hell could I have got it so wrong

The thought of you in another man’s bed
I just couldn’t get it out of my head
You tried to say it didn’t mean a thing
It was only a stupid little fling

I got angry and opened the drawer
I shouted at you and called you a whore
Before I knew it I had fired the gun
Oh my god, what have I done?

(c) Abby Grayson




I am cold. I am cold even though it is bright outside. It looks warm. I have lost track of time. Is it Summer already? Inside days merge. Some are even lost completely. The irony is that just when time has suddenly become more precious I find it a fleeting entity, hard to keep hold of as it slips through my fingers like grains of sand. My hourglass is filling up exponentially but all I can do is sit and look; watch, wait and reflect.
Visitors start to arrive as I continue to gaze out of my window. Sure enough, there is Paul’s battered red Ford squeezing into a narrow parking space between a lurid green Mini and a gold Land Rover. He, Molly, and kids tumble out. For a second his guard is down and I notice how tired he seems. Then he looks up and catches me watching. His face lights up in an over bright smile that, even from this distance, I can tell doesn’t reach his eyes.
As I wait I adjust my scarf and ask for my pillows to be plumped up for more support. I want to be sitting up properly when I see them. I want to remember today for as long as I can and ensure a strong memory lingers. I want them to remember me and not my illness.
I have passed through a spectrum of emotions; disbelief, numbness, anger, guilt, fear and terrible crippling sadness. Why me? Why my family? I have already started grieving for what I am leaving behind.
But today is different. Today I am at peace and I am in charge for once, not this disease. Me! I know I will only have a small window of lucidity before I will have to self-administer more drugs, which are only ever a temporary relief from pain. But although it has won I won’t be beaten.
My family enter and Paul comes straight over to take my hand. He is gentle, like I am made of glass and could shatter into a thousand pieces at any second. His smile is sad and this time it does reach his eyes.
“It’s okay,” I say, “It will be okay.”
His Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down furiously and his top lip quivers slightly. “I don’t want you to go.” His voice catches and I can see him struggling for composure in front of his girls.
“I know,” I smile. “I feel it all; from what you want to say now but can’t, to what you may later wish you had said. Promise me you won’t ever look back in regret as I know your heart and love you for it. All of you.”
They stay for half an hour and I turn my head to watch as they slowly walk back towards their car. Paul stops, looks up, and places one hand across his heart. I close my eyes and press for more drugs.
It is time to say goodbye.

And the winner is………

wiinners cup

Congratulations to Jane Dougherty who, with 50% of the vote, won August’s mini writing competition with her poem ‘Time Was’. If you haven’t already read this entry I would recommend that you swing by and I’m sure that you will enjoy it as much as I did. As winner, Jane is now entitled to set the writing prompt for September’s competition and I will notify you all once I have more information on this.

Thank you again to all who took part this month. 🙂

It’s that time again…

I’ve enjoyed reading the entries again this month and now it’s over to you. Please vote for your favourite between now and the end of the month and the winner will set the next writing prompt. Happy reading! 🙂

Competition Update


Childhood Memories

If you’re in the mood for some bite sized writing, there are some great entries into this month’s mini writing competition. Closing date for August submissions is Friday 24th so there is still time to join in if you would like to. Please also remember to check back after the 24th to vote for your favourite entry. The winner will choose the topic for the next month and these mini competitions are open to all. Happy reading! 🙂

Shine On Award

I’m delighted to announce that I have been nominated for the Shine On Award! Many thanks to Little Write Lies for the nomination and it’s nice to know that people are enjoying what I’m trying to do here.


Rules of the award:
1. Display the award logo on your blog.
2. Link back to the person who nominated you.
3. State 7 things about yourself
4. Nominate 15 other bloggers for this award and link to them.
5. Notify those bloggers of the nomination and the award requirements.

Seven things about me:
1. I wrote half my children’s novel before my 5 year old twins were born and the other half afterwards following a bit of a break (and wonder if I will ever finish editing it….)
2. I have also written a number of children’s picture books – its just a shame I can’t illustrate them!
3. I started this blog earlier this year and have been blown away by the quality of submissions to the mini monthly writing comps.
4. I love stationary! (I suspect this may be a common infatuation for those that like to write..?)
5. I started training to be a primary school teacher before switching to business with economics and French.
6. My new favourite programme is ‘Nashville’ – great writing, strong characterisation and brilliant songs!
7. My gravatar is a picture that my daughter did on our iPad.


1. http://radioactiveyeball.wordpress.com
2. http://annjohnsonmurphreeauthor.wordpress.com
3. http://kirawoodsbury.com
4. http://poetreecreations.org
5. http://wordsfallfrommyeyes.wordpress.com
6. http://writershenanigans.wordpress.com
7. http://jstansfeld.com
8. http://wordsisters.wordpress.com
9. http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com

Call for Submissions

Do you have a childhood memory you would like to share? Or perhaps a fictional piece rooted in childhood? If so I would love to hear from you. Please feel free to enter the August mini writing competition for a piece of poetry or flash fiction on this month’s writing prompt.

This month my entry is a poem entitled ‘Clocks’, a piece that brought back memories of when the whole world was full of potential and I only had to wish for it….



They float soundlessly through air,
invisible threads, strands of dreams
which, they say, make wishes come true.

Drifting on summer breeze
these ‘fairies’ glide by,
occasionally coming to rest,
tangled in undergrowth.

As children they hold mystical charm;
are things to wonder at,
representing hope.
But they also hold the key
to the passage of time,
so we are taught.

Is it merely the strength
of our lungs,
or is there more at work
when the magic
of children’s breath
disperse these filaments;
the number of which determine the hour?

And so time passes,
these clocks are forgotten
we gradually start to bow to
more organised schedules:
Childhood philosophy drowned
in a sea of adulthood,
of life, of responsibility.

Until the next generation
revives the magic for us once again.

Writing Prompt for August is…….

kids with balloons


What is the first thing that springs to mind when you think of your childhood? Is there a specific time or event which had a significant impact on you? For this month’s mini writing competition I invite you to submit a piece of flash fiction (up to 500 words) or poetry to capture a moment in time and take us back there with you.

Please post entries on the Mini Monthly Competition page in the usual way and happy writing! 🙂