My Scribblings 1/4

Sorry I've neglected the blog. Truth is, I've had nothing to write about really. There have been no barmy letters into The Sloppy Star. I think we've all had enough of the World Cup. No funny videos. No jokes. No "burning issues". Nothing.

So, in an interesting, left-field kinda way, for the next few blog entries I'm going to put up on here some bits and pieces of writing that I've done in the last few years. They're mostly shit, I agree, but I figure it's better than nothing. There's 2 pieces of university work, and then 2 sports articles I've done, one of which was published in the populist bullshit publication 'Crywolf'. Let me know what you think, positive or negative, all comments welcome.

This first piece was for a university assignment. It's a "flash fiction", which means it couldn't be more than 200 words. It was actually a lot harder to write than you would think, as once you get an idea the word-count really does start to rocket up, and so you have to concentrate a lot on tightening up your writing and being thrifty, yet still getting your story across.

My piece clocks in at 198 words, and is entitled "A Simple Equation"

Months of preparation and practice were about to be rewarded. Boring farts had tried persuading us that spending the time revising would have achieved the same result, but where was the fun in that?

The seating plan was obviously vital. Good old Ford – alphabetical again, one brother sitting next to the other, again. Showtime. Just make sure not to get distracted by the leggy blonde invigilator. Girls do better than boys, shock horror.

The admin crap was spouted. Protractors were handed out, and the times were scribbled on the white board.

“You may begin. Good luck.”

And then the only thing you could hear was the terrifying sound of papers being turned over.

I took a deep breath, and then extended my index finger out straight. David smiled, than fiddled with his watch. I circled the letter A.

I paused as Ford ambled past, than we started again. I held out 2 fingers straight, like I was flicking the V at him, sideways. He coughed, and I circled C.

The simple plans are the best, after all. Now I just have to work out how I got one more mark than David did.

Good old Ford, the nutter.