The end of the month is always a busy time in terms of competition deadllines. I entered four this month, and decided against entering a fifth, which shall remain nameless, because the entry fee was, in my opinion, far too high. One of the things I love about competitions is that, until the results are published, you always have hope. You never know what's going to pop up in your inbox.
I haven't done much actual writing, apart from polishing my 250 word Bridport Flash entry, and entering Saturday's WriteInvite competition, where you choose one of three given prompts and write a story in 30 minutes. So far this year I've won 4 times and been a runner-up twice. It's the only thing I seem to have any success with lately. But even when you don't win, you still have the beginnings of a new story, which is probably the most important thing. Many of my successful stories have begun life in this way.
In other news, I have been reading The Stories of Jane Gardam. I have loved Jane Gardam's books since I was a teenager, and I was interested to see that, in her introduction to this wonderful collection, she claims that she has always preferred writing short stories to writing novels. A woman after my own heart, then. She also says that Irish, French, Russian and American short stories are the strongest; which has increased my wishlist of books.
The anthology which includes some of my work, My Baby Shot Me Down, has received some great reviews on Amazon . It really is worth a read. Here is my cat Lily, guarding a stack of pristine copies.