That Night At The Circus

Cirque du Soleil Big Top - Montreal Vieux Port

It was her vibrant contralto that made her such a valuable addition to the circus. That, and her winning smile and ability to transform into any form suggested by random members of the audience. Rock, waterfall, leopard, begonia, soup spoon… All was possible. (Once, to the audience’s horror, some idiot called out “skunk.”)

The Invisible Circus, BristolThe Ringmaster permitted only three transformations a night. He felt more would be detrimental to her health. Transformation was an exhausting process, even for her, to whom it came so naturally. In any case, three, the Ringmaster maintained, had scientifically been proven to be a lucky number.

Not so lucky if you were Snow White, argued one of the tightrope walkers, but he was well known as a troublemaker, and we all knew that story turned out fine in the end.

The little boy should never have been admitted. Everyone is now agreed on that, even if at first some said it was all her own fault. She’d always been able Continue reading

The Optimism Project

Chinese Gardens, Montreal Botanical Gardens 2015Optimism? Three whole pages? What sort of a school project is that? When I was your age, I was doing sums, finding the highest mountain in the world in the atlas, looking at leaves through a magnifying glass, important stuff like that. What will the world come to if all you kids do is think about optimism?

Your dad shouldn’t have sent you to me, my dear. I’m the family pessimist as he well knows. As far as I’m concerned, optimism is for the birds. Think everything will end up in a rosy glow? It depends on the occasion, that’s all I know. Some things will turn out well, others won’t. And you better be prepared when it doesn’t.

I learned pessimism from Charlie Frent in elementary school. Playing conkers in class, he was, when all of a sudden his conker got the teacher in the back of the head. Next thing we knew, Charlie was over his desk being whacked on his behind with a ruler.

That did it for me. Charlie didn’t give a…I mean, he wasn’t fazed at all. Although who can read another’s mind, especially at the age of seven? He just gave the teacher the finger (behind his back of course) but I was marked forever.

Never see a conker, but that I remember the lesson I learned that day: always watch out because just when you’re having fun, you get whacked on the behind.

What? Well, that may be so nowadays, but back in my day teachers were allowed to. But there, the past is past and you’re young and you need to write three pages on optimism for your teacher. Let’s see if I can dredge up something for you.

Hm….

Hm…. It’s a shame your Uncle Freddy isn’t here.

Make a cup of tea, why don’t you, dear? That might help.

Hm…

It’s not so easy this optimism lark. Get out the dictionary, there’s a love. “Hopefulness and confidence about the future.” Hm… What with the Continue reading

The Silk Painter

The Silk Painter

The ivory silk stretched taut on the frame, tethered by pins at each end. Her brush whispered down the length of it, slashes of red dye instantly softening.

“You’ve been doing this for many years,” he said.

“I’ve been doing this for many years,” she agreed. Now the blue. Now a golden ray. She sprinkled salt and the ray burst into a thousand suns.

She was aware of him hovering, watching, searching for some clue. But she was not there to provide him with clues. Those he had to find for himself.

Next she chose black. This black wasn’t to hide, but to reveal.

*****

2016 is my year of the Thursday Blurt. These are quick-writes, when I take advantage of a spare five, ten minutes and write whatever comes to mind, starting with something tangible, something I can see, smell, taste or hear or touch as I start to write. If the blurt turns out to be a story, great. If it doesn’t, tant pis.

Please note: all stories and material on this website, except for comments by others, are © Susi Lovell .

Watch For The Warp

The floor in the corridor was warped. The wood beneath the carpet lifted, jigged higher on the right, lower on the left, then dipped abruptly.

The trouble was, each time they passed, it never warped in quite the same way. If they stepped without thinking, without watching, they could find themselves Continue reading

The Low Green Door

“The Low Green Door” is the first of my weekly writing ‘blurts’. You can read why I decided to make this my 2016 New Year’s Resolution here.

 

The Low Green Door

That girl with the curly hair, she looks like a kid out of a storybook, the kind of kid that nips through a low green door half-hidden by brambles and roses and wisteria, the kind you go through and then can’t find again so you Continue reading

New Year’s Resolution? Blurt Writing!

Quebec City

Towards the end of 2015 I went for three days to Quebec City.

When I go away I like to write a story a day but I knew I wouldn’t have time to write much in Quebec City. There were simply too many interesting things to do there in too short a time.

So I decided to write ‘blurts’ – five or so minute writing sprints whenever I had the opportunity. While waiting in a line or for a coffee, or for my husband to finish the crossword…

I had such a great time with these blurts – so many surprises and rewards – that I decided I wanted to keep them part of my regular writing life.Quebec City

A huge plus is that they provide me with much needed zaps of creative energy as I continue to work on a longer manuscript, re-writing and editing work that I’ve re-written and edited over a fairly long period of time.

The problem? Even though I know there are plenty of five/ten minute periods when I could easily sit down and write, back home in my regular routine they seem to slide past without me picking up a pen.

How to keep myself writing blurts? Continue reading