Christmas songs dull the office. The limp tinsel on the coffee machine. Erratic fairy lights.
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭⁣⁣
‘Lovely to see you two here.’ A playful tap on his arm.⁣⁣
‘You too.’ His mouth tight. Her eyes bright.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳⁣
‘Have fun, Eve.’⁣⁣
‘You too.’
#writecbc

I can’t wait to read yours!! 🤗

CBC Summer School was a game changer! I fully recommend it! So great to have in person lessons, and to meet other writers. The tutor was AMAZING! Showed me my writing in a new light. Most sentences need to change in some way. A lot of work but I think I’m making progress (or at least I hope so!!)

Good luck with your draft!
Draft 4 is taking the longest out of any for me!! 🤯

Thanks @cali-warham.bsky.social !! Your favourite time of year is approaching!!! 🧙‍♀️
I hope all is well!

The lock catches, I’m not sure why. Must get it checked. The hallway dims when I shut the door, now only watery winter light from the transom. The clatter of my keys echoes. I pause. Slide my son’s clay monster back to its place. Then I see it. The photo. Someone’s put it back in its frame #writecbc

'A drawer for me! You shouldn’t have.'
'Leave some things. Stay.'
'You left something in it.' Isla holds up a Tridatu bracelet, makes for the bin.
'Wait.' Vik holds it in his palm, puts it on, can't get it over his thumb joint. Isla sees his gaze emptying, returned to a past only he knows. #WriteCBC

Such a great episode, so interesting! Another aspect of publishing that brings more complexity into the mix!

I get to the door, hair dripping onto a hastily worn t-shirt.
"Hi. Sorry. My son's ball is in your garden."
I peer into hazel eyes, familiar, like his voice. Look him up and down. Receding hairline, clean jumper, new looking shorts, nice legs.
The signet ring. I've seen it before.
"Tom?" #WriteCBC

She'd sensed it. But even now carried on not listening to herself, though all color had drained from lustrous palms under a sky without a trace of blue. The intangible clues of something souless, futile, to this soul-searching, that paradise isn't an actual place, that nothing was true. #WriteCBC

You're having an impressive run with the #WriteCBC competition!! 😲

All is well, thanks! Ploughing through this final draft, still finding myself wanting to add things to the "finished" parts, but I know I need to suck it up and put it out there to some treasured beta readers 🤗

Hope you're well!

Well done, @cali-warham.bsky.social!!!! Keep up the beautiful, atmospheric (and in this case, eerie) writing 💫

Ed sits up, eyes not adjusting to the dark as a myna shrills unexpectedly. Wrong time of day. Dread spreads like ink from his chest. A movement, a silhouette almost the same shade. Then a scent. Of her, still the same. His hand slides to the underside of the mattress, feeling for the knife.#writecbc

Caliiiiii! So happy to see you on Bluesky. And such a pleasure to see your writing again. This is just brilliant ♥️ Well done for the shout out!!! 👏

Ada steps over discarded coconuts with limp paper straws. The scent of grilling corn is lost on her. She looks lost. But this beach is as familiar to her as the weaves of her thatched ceiling. At dawn, she stares up at it while willing the tempo of the cicadas to settle her tumultuous mind #WriteCBC

I turn the key, hear echoes of his loneliness in the click. A fallen tree not heard. A woody scent. I can smell it from my desk at work, where I saw the ad. The stuffiness of sleep. A dirty bowl. He could've made an effort. A guitar. So he plays. A photo of them before she left. Now torn.
#cbcwrite

1 week on
Ella looked around the crystal castle, pure ice, then smiled at Arne, her oldest ancestor. It felt familiar when she arrived, trembling and weak, not from cold.
It had been the absence of all this. She understood Mum's reasons, but now her life made sense. She was home.
#5ActFestiveStory

Mum too, who dragged herself to the fireplace, now only embers the colour of sunset. The door flung open. A monstrous creature, half-man, half…frosty abomination. Ella didn’t know he transformed every Christmas. Mum took a deep breath, readying herself, reaching towards the heat.
#5ActFestiveStory