Image by Open Clipart Vectors on pixabay
They’re gonna put me in the movies
They’re gonna make a big star out of me
Nope. I got a film industry job, but it wasn’t as an actor.
I got the job of Continuity.
35 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Prompt: Continuity
Continuity is responsible for ensuring all those tiny seemingly unimportant details in a scene match up, take after take after take. I once thought it a dream of a job.
I haven’t been able to get out to snap up fresh flowers… and it looks like I shan’t be able to for quite a few weeks. So I’m drawing upon my stores from previous years.
Celandine… the golden stars of spring: 28 March 2019
I have close up shots of this plant, and in massive flower. But I liked the way last year’s bracken forms a frame for this delicate specimen. And the distance adds a certain quality… I’ll leave you to name it.
Sycamore flowers: 28 March 2019
Nature has a real eye for colour. Who’d ever think of putting puce and lime together (except for my daughter when she was an art student? And aren’t those tightly folded leaves divine.
When I saw this fantastic cap on a bollard close to the old Maddermarket in Norwich, I was intrigued.
Feature cap to bollard: 3rd March 2020
The Maddermarket used to sell… madder, the plant used to dye medieval woollen products various shades of red. Hence the sheep on the cap. Alas, not an old installation but one of several commisioned in recent years by Norwich City Council for various sites around the city.
Heritage, another title achieved in Maria’s Antonia’s #2020picoftheweek
For the last three Fridays I have been posting instalments of an interview with author Crispina Kemp. This week, we get to chat with Lauren Willmore, writer and book cover designer. You will have already seen her beautiful work gracing the front covers of Crispina’s The Spinner’s Game series and I think we can all […]
via Interview with Lauren Willmore, Writer and Book Cover Designer — Sammi Cox
Crimson’s Creative Challenge #72
The water all has gone away
Glistening sand now fills the bay
What has happened, you may ask
(Though muffled behind your medical mask)
No mystery here, no invading bugs
Just the wretched giants have pulled the plugs!
Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN
And apologies for being late. I scheduled it to the wrong date. Oops!
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE
Here are some suggestions:
- An answering photo
- A cartoon
- A joke
- A caption
- An anecdote
- A short story (flash fiction)
- A poem
- A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
- An essay
- A song—the lyrics or the performance
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
- Your creative offering is indeed yours
- Your writing is kept to 150 words or less
If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.
image by Gerd Altmann
Thoughts disjointed leaves me bemused… Decisions not possible. Why? Virus infecting the brain… mind thoroughly muddled
16 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Muddle
Possibly a milkcap: November 2019
Or if you prefer, Late Baroque. And I believe this does conform to “Mushroom” on the majority of paintcharts.
And for your edification: Rococo on Wiki
Posted in Photos
Grab yourself an epic fantasy set in a time when the only invisible foe was a demon.
All five books of The Spinner’s Game are now available on Amazon as Kindle and Paperback. Buy it here.
The perfect companion for those lockdown days.
Opening words from The Spinner’s Child
Gut the fish, scrape the scales, shell the nuts, pound the seeds. And what else could her mother find to stop her from idling and making up tales? But she wasn’t lazy; she preferred to be busy. And neither were her stories fancies. They were truths, had direct from clansfolk’s heads. She ought to learn it was best to say nothing. She was different, others hadn’t her trick.
Her mother glanced across to the neighbouring floor and upjutted her chin. ‘Boy-Bytan’s wanting to play, if you want to go.’
Kerrid quirked a smile. It would serve her mother well if she ran away instead. Except, run to where? To her death?
Now you know you want to read more… Buy it here.