Monthly Archives: April 2013

I am the walrus (part the 2nd)

…and it wasn’t just one inanimate object we had to write about, oh no. We were under pressure baby! in 15 minutes we had to come up with 4. Time is fleeting, so by the time I’d cranked my brain into gear after around 6 minutes of dusting off I managed 2 and a half pieces. Here’s the second one. It made me smile and ┬áthe group chortle, squirm and go “ooooh rude words!”


My life isn’t exactly what you’d call glamorous. Hell it’s not even good. Not like that bathroom cabinet, getting cleaned every other day and handled like it’s made of glass.

No, my life is literally full of shit. They come, they sit, they shit. On the good days, I’m lucky enough to get a bit of a scrub, on the really good days the fresh fragrant smell of pine. The bad days are something else altogether.

They don’t even flush. Dirty assholes.

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I am the walrus (part I)

More learning last night. It’s good to learn. It fills you up. Sometimes it feels you up, certainly if you’re a bit of a deviant and get off on that kind of thing.

We discussed P.O.V. and the effect this can have on your story, be it from a host of different characters or from a narration perspective, or both, as well as whether to choose to write from the 1st, 2nd or 3rd person. 2nd person?! Yeah. That’s what I thought too. Sounds interesting; more on that next week.

So here be the challenge, mateys. From a 1st person p.o.v write an account from an inanimate object in different rooms of the house.

Object 1

God I love it when she turns me on. That flicker of electricity that courses through me, the gentle buzz that emanates from the very elements of my soul. I’ve heard her talk about me. She once told her husband that I light up the entire room. I’d never been so proud. I could have shone forever and a day. Don’t get me wrong, some days are dark. I feel cold and lonely looking down at the floor. The dog’s not much company either. Never wants to play. I wonder if she knows he sits on the sofa when she’s out?

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Watch the moon hang with me

though miles and miles apart.

Over sea and rock and railways

forever in my heart.

– Inspired, of course, by Fievel Mousekewitz.

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It’s good to see that the surreal is alive and well

in the child that sits in the back seat of my car.

When told from the front to the back that in fact

this child of mine smelled of cheese,

he slapped his thigh and laughed with a sigh

and declared that in fact it was broccoli.

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