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Wednesday's Writer
Wednesday's Writer
Wednesday's Writer
Ebook84 pages51 minutes

Wednesday's Writer

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An anthology of new writing from the Todmorden Writers' Group. Stories and Poems written by the current members of the group from 2007 to 2010.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateApr 7, 2011
ISBN9781447618218
Wednesday's Writer

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    Book preview

    Wednesday's Writer - Todmorden Writers' Group

    Wednesday’s Writer

    An Anthology

    By

    the Todmorden Writers’ Group

    December 2010

    Compiled and Edited by Andy Fraser

    All work is the copyright of the individual author and is produced with their explicit permission. Anyone wishing to use any material in this anthology should contact the editor at fraserai@yahoo.com

    eISBN: 978-1-44761-821-8

    9781447618218_0004_001

    Introduction

    By Andy Fraser

    When I moved to Todmorden in early 2007 I was already a writer. When I say writer, I mean you would seldom find me without a laptop and a notebook on the look-out for strange characters and anecdotes to pillage. I had been a member of writers' groups before and found them useful. They gave me that all-important kick up the backside to write things outside my comfort zone. They also gave me feedback about where I was going right and wrong. Unfortunately the groups that I found in Todmorden were either too far away or met at times of the day when those cursed with a full time job, like me, couldn't attend. As I got to know people in Todmorden, I found I was not the only one who felt this way and so the seeds were sown for a new group to be born; the Todmorden Writers' Group.

    Our first meeting took place on a chilly October night. Five near-strangers met upstairs at the Tenth Muse as was (now the delicious Hanniman’s Restaurant on Water Street). It was a nervous affair with no one wishing to be too critical of another’s work for fear of causing offence but it proved useful and productive; it forced us to write and discuss our writing with like-minded individuals and we agreed that the group should continue meeting fortnightly. It has done so ever since.

    In the three years from that original meeting others have joined, shared and left us. There have been poems, plays, TV shows, short stories and novels written by its members. We have had competition prize winners both locally and nationally, professionally produced playwrights and published poets. Many pints have been drunk and many tales told but more than that, there has been the writing; a dazzling variety of talents and styles, voices and experience. In total, over 500 pieces of writing have been produced, read and talked about by the group's members.

    To celebrate this, the current group felt they would like to collect their favourite pieces together and set them down in a book so that others could read them. These pieces were voted on by the group to include one piece from each of our regular attendees.

    The word ‘anthology’ comes from the ancient Greek for the study of flowers and it is apt in this case because we have a huge variety of blossoming writing here from the nettle’s sudden sting to the full bouquet of the delicate orchid. Please pick your bloom and enjoy.

    And if you have a passion for writing, why not join us? The Todmorden Writers' Group is free and there is no commitment except to write. We meet every fortnight on a Wednesday evening in the centre of Todmorden. For further information, drop me an email at fraserai@yahoo.com and I’ll get straight back to you.

    Andy Fraser

    On A Bristol Train

    Janet Spooner

    9781447618218_0004_001

    On A Bristol Train

    by Janet Spooner

    Meredydd Gwyn Thomas was a little suspicious of the gentleman opposite. For the last fifteen minutes he had been staring directly at her. Not a glance at the passing Welsh countryside, not a peek at the woman who had swept in, realised she was in the wrong compartment and swept out again, and not even a flicker when something, a fledgling blackbird perhaps, had struck the window making herself startle. His eyes were fixed firmly on her.

    Meredydd enjoyed her bi-monthly train journey to Bristol. Or, at least, she usually did. She’d arise early and catch a bus to LLandrindod Wells, which in autumn was usually swathed in dawn mist. It was always a Tuesday. She’d invariably buy a small bar of Cadbury’s chocolate and woman’s magazine. The news vendor knew

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