Kathy Sharp's Blog - Posts Tagged "humour"

“A Modern Ruin”. I found this written at the top of a page in my notebook, and I have no idea why I wrote it there. Still, it made a good writing prompt for the Weymouth Writing Matters group. I use a lot of dialogue in my flash fiction stories – it seems a good way to tell a tale through the eyes of the characters, and this style suited the idea that quickly came to mind.

“It is the wall of a castle, you see,” said Mr Clutterbuck.
The gardener peered at it disapprovingly. “It’s broke,” he said.
“Well of course it’s broke – that is to say, broken. It represents a gothic ruin.” Mr Clutterbuck, landscaper to the aristocracy, was losing patience. “His lordship requires a romantic ruin. And a romantic ruin he shall have, my good man. This wall will show to advantage when viewed from the terrace – will reflect nicely in the lake, when we complete it.”
The gardener sucked his teeth. “It’s still broke. Why would his lordship be wanting on old broke wall when he could be having a new one?”
“You clearly have no notion of style,” said Mr Clutterbuck. “It is the modern fashion. Very high fashion, too. Ruins is very fashionable, d’you see?”
The gardener leaned on his spade. “But there is the real ruin – old castle, of the middle ages – right over there. Doesn’t that do for his lordship?”
Mr Clutterbuck thought for a moment the man might be teasing him. He looked sharply at the gardener, but there was neither guile nor humour in his weather-beaten face. “In the first place, that real ruin, as you call it, is decrepit, and not at all romantic. In the second place, it’s in the wrong place. The rise of the land means you cannot see it from the terrace. A carefully designed, and situated, modern ruin will overcome those difficulties.”
“But what is it for?” asked the gardener, stubbornly.
“Very well,” said Mr Clutterbuck, testily. “Consider this: his lordship’s family are newly created peers of the realm. This house is new. The park is new. The arboretum is new. The lake will be new, when we finish it. This new ruin, besides being a splendid decoration, suggests an old established and ancient family. It leaves an impression upon the observer’s mind.”
“Leaves an impression on my mind,” said the gardener. “It’s broke.”
Mr Clutterbuck could see this was an argument he couldn’t win. The man had neither taste nor culture. But he determined to put the fellow in his place. “Well,” he said, “never mind about that. You’re here to begin the planting of the new arboretum, are you not? We have a choice selection of exotic trees – his lordship is very anxious to see them in place and growing. You can start with the grove of monkey puzzle trees – fifteen of them, most exclusive, new from the Americas. They’re a wee bit spiny, I fear, but I’m sure you’ll manage.”
The gardener paled, swallowed hard, and, picking up his spade, went to meet his spiny doom.


Kathy’s new short story collection, Mr Muggington’s Discovery and Other Stories is out now http://tinyurl.com/hec25gr. For further gentle humour: The Larus Trilogy – Isle of Larus myBook.to/MyAmazonLinks , Sea of Clouds myBook.to/MyAmazonBooks and All the Wild Weather (to be published later this year).

In my absence the other week, the members of Weymouth Writing Matters came up with an unusual writing prompt: ‘Why should your writing tools not be beautiful. What would you buy?’ Now, many of my writing friends are passionate collectors of handsome notebooks and pretty pens – even if they scarcely use them and write directly to the laptop. People seem to feel that nice stationery makes the writer, or at least, that the possession of it helps put them into a writing state of mind. Anyway, this gave me an idea for a story…

“I stand in awe of you, my dear sir,” said the passenger, quite agog. “Why, that you should find time to write – fully every day, and Sundays too – in addition to your duties as ship’s chaplain. I take my hat off to you. But pray, how do you achieve it?”
The Reverend Rasmussen was deeply gratified, but put on a pained and thoughtful face for a full twenty seconds before replying, in a sonorous sermon voice.
“The secret, sir, is that I set aside one hour. One hour, and one hour only, each day, for my private writing activity. I can spare no more. Rigid adherence to the time available and careful organisation are the key to my success.”
The passenger shook his head in wonder. “And will you tell me the particulars of your organisation? Or is it a great secret?”
“No secret at all,” said the Reverend Rasmussen. “It is purely this: the properly organised mind requires the proper organisation of writing tools. You will have observed I have a collection of beautifully-bound writing notebooks, in diverse colours. One for each day of the week, you see. And a comprehensive variety of pens and nibs – some gold, of course - and coloured wax crayons, knives for sharpening of same, blotting pads, inkwells of various designs containing different-coloured inks, and sundry other items vital to the writer’s life. It is an excellent collection, and I begin my hour’s work by arranging them in order, so that I may lay my hand immediately upon whichever I require.”
“I am amazed at your industry, sir,” said the passenger. “And having arranged your writing tools, you then begin to write!”
There was an uncomfortable silence. “Sadly, no,” said the Reverend. “Unfortunately, despite all my care, the motion of the ship invariably displaces the pens – which are apt to roll, you understand – overturns the inkwells, and on occasion tosses my notebooks to the cabin floor, and I have to begin again.”
“Most distressing,” said the passenger, “so…?”
“So my hour is spent in arranging and re-arranging my writing tools. I have yet to succeed in committing a single word to paper. But I live in hope, my dear sir, I live in hope.”

My new short story collection, Mr Muggington’s Discovery and Other Stories is out now http://tinyurl.com/hec25gr. For further gentle humour: The Larus Trilogy – Isle of Larus myBook.to/MyAmazonLinks , Sea of Clouds myBook.to/MyAmazonBooks and All the Wild Weather (to be published later this year).

‘The oldest trick in the book’ was our prompt at the Off the Cuff writing group last week. Oh, and the words nutshell, kindness and hedgehog needed to feature somewhere too. The title seemed to call for a crime story, so that was the direction I took. This is another of those tales that works best largely told in dialogue, with the main character revealing his own stupidity, as well as the details of the crime.

“It was that weaselly-looking fellow, over there. The one with his hair all on end like a hedgehog. He told us about it,” said the landlord of the Plough Inn.
The constable turned, seeking out a weaselly-hedgehog-looking type. There was no such person in sight. “Have the kindness to tell me the full story again, sir,” he said.
The landlord stood with his arms akimbo. “There is no time for that. He is getting away!”
“Since he is not in sight, it makes no odds,” said the constable, stubbornly. “Tell me all the particulars, if you would.”
The landlord caved in. “Oh, very well. I was just taking the delivery of ale – same as every Monday morning. The horse and cart were outside the inn, right there.” He pointed. “The carter was overseeing the unloading.”
“And then…?”
“And then up runs the weaselly-looking fellow and says, “Hey! Such a wonder! You never saw the like! A star has fallen into the village pond!”
“A star,” said the constable, “I see.”
“Well, it’s not every day you see such a thing, is it? Not in broad daylight. And the carter and I consider ourselves students of the heavens, sir. We often discuss the astronomy, everybody knows. Why, his very horse is named Altair after one of the brighter ones. It was our duty to go and see this great wonder when it had landed pretty much on our doorstep, don’t you agree? So off we ran, directly, to investigate.”
“And…?” said the constable, wearily.
“And when we reached the pond, there was no star. It is an ephemeral thing, to be sure, but we had hoped there would be something left of it. Nothing, sir, nothing to be seen. And when we came back to the inn – very disappointed, as you might imagine – there was nothing to be seen here, neither. No cart, no horse, no ale, no brandy kegs, and none of the sundry other items I had ordered. In a nutshell, sir, while we were looking for that fallen star my entire order of drink and victuals had vanished.”
“That fellow distracted you with his stories,” said the constable, “distracted you both, knowing your interest in the astronomy, and the regular time of the delivery, in order to commit this robbery. It is the oldest trick in the book.” He thought that was putting it plainly enough.
The landlord stared at him in confusion. “Distracted us, sir? But however did he cause a star to fall out of the heavens at just the right time on a Monday morning in order to do it? Answer me that, sir!”

My new short story collection, Mr Muggington’s Discovery and Other Stories is out now http://tinyurl.com/hec25gr. For further gentle humour: The Larus Trilogy – Isle of Larus myBook.to/MyAmazonLinks , Sea of Clouds myBook.to/MyAmazonBooks and All the Wild Weather (to be published later this year).