It was the first night back at Ayr Writers’ Club tonight after a summer’s break… and a good time had by all, I think! A little bit of club housekeeping, some catching up with old buddies and meeting new members, and (of course) a writing exercise to stretch our underused writing muscles.
We were asked to write a short piece about ‘ourselves’ – except it was to be almost entirely a web of lies, with just three truths sneaked in. There were a few gems, especially from a couple of newbies…
Here’s my attempt. (And my three ‘truths’.)
“When I was 12 years old I sailed across the Atlantic singlehandedly, with only my pet koala, Gilbert, for company. By the time we landed at Boston some four years later I had taught myself to speak Latin, French and Sanscrit, my hair had turned completely grey and I had put on eight stone – mainly from eating too many jellyfish which are widely known to be fattening. I had also brought along a small supply of giant salted and roasted Peruvian ants which I ate with great relish and which, along with the seawater, possibly contributed to my going mad. Once back in Scotland I vowed never to return to the sea and set up a small business raising dancing chickens for the cabaret market but, although I made my first million that way I lost it all gambling on the tiddlywinks and got out of the dancing chicken game, though I still keep a few just for eggs. Gilbert, my faithful companion of many years alas passed away some time ago and is buried under a willow in my front garden.”
Nothing like a bit of good old-fashioned ‘spewing’, as this type of exercise is sometimes known.
Next week it’s back to the (probably not too) serious work of a crime writing workshop.
Sigh, I still miss Gilbert.
BlueprintWriting 