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Scratchings on the Page

Thoughts, Stories and Randomness from the mind of a writer

Month

August 2016

Whispers from the Stands

So I don't know whether or not I mentioned this, but at the beginning of the holiday I entered a local short story competition. Now, my Dad told me that there was no way I would win it three years... Continue Reading →

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Crime is a brilliant place to hide

I hate it when I meet teachers outside of school. It's awful. Mainly because I don't know the exact protocol for such a scenario. What is worse though is meeting an English teacher in the library as you look for... Continue Reading →

It's a slightly ambiguous heading, but I think it suits my purpose admirably. I told myself that I would have nothing to do with Harry Potter ave the Cursed Child, but of late I have found myself reconsidering this decision.... Continue Reading →

On film and TV

Since yesterday lunchtime, I have been busy. And there is only one thing to blame. On Saturday, my Dad bought a copy of The Guardian. On Sunday morning I got hold of the magazine and began to read. Or, more... Continue Reading →

On quotes

I have just realised this, and I don't know whether to be impressed or worried: When I read a Lord of the Rings quotation, I hear the character's voice in my head. Which is mildly terrifying. And hugely entertaining to... Continue Reading →

The coolest thing ever!!!!!!!

Fangirl alert. Look at this!!! It's a proposed project for a LEGO Minas Tirith and it looks so cool. I want this. I want this so much. But first it has to get approved, which means it needs at least... Continue Reading →

And when I say too many books, I mean that someone has borrowed every single book of the English reading list out of the library. Every. Single. One. I mean: really? Really? Did you need to do that? Couldn't you... Continue Reading →

For one moment (Or: What Happens on NCS…)

Your friend comes up to me at lunch. I’m sat on the lawn, basking in sunlight and daisies, and his words are like a bucket of icy water which disrupt the peace I adore: of the sun on my face... Continue Reading →

Out damn spot!

It's only red ink, but it's not coming off! The result is that I've turned a la Lady Macbeth, and have started scrubbing my hands like mad.

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