I've had a break - only a few days - from blogging as I've been inundated with paperwork, driving miles to have my hair done and getting caught in the mother of all traffic jams (it wiped out a whole day) and generally writing the beginning of a short story that is, rather like the traffic jam, turning into rather a long story and in this case potentially a novel.

The thing that got me started on the novel was a writing prompt from my OU course. Yes, the one I haven't actually started yet. I was perusing the activities that I'll be doing some time in the literary future and two prompts from a set of ten got me thinking and suddenly some characters were there on the horizon and walking towards me, almost real as they had personalities and histories even. And there it was.... the beginning of the short story that just keeps on growing. Its not even a genre that I would have thought of choosing - a murder mystery - as its not one I'd read and I don't think I have any skills in that direction but... well, they keep coming back to me each and every time I'm not doing something, and sometimes even if I am and their story is just THERE wanting to be told. Its most peculiar.

So have I kept up my Haiku per day? Well funnily enough I have and am enjoying it very much. Perhaps it was the Haiku's that got me moving in a literary sense as they seem to float in from all directions and I wonder if this will stop. Its also nice to find that the ordinary things in life suddenly throw up amazing opportunities for some very extraordinary thoughts and feelings that can then be condensed into writing that takes you in different directions. It doesn't have to be something extraordinary or 'out there' just a set of circumstances that could be as normal as burning toast - though for me this would be extraordinary as I'm abstaining from all things wheaty. But you get what I mean. For instance, what would this image tell you about the person who owned this room? It could tell you a lot or it could give you false leads as to who they really were but... it certainly could give you some food for thought that would / could start a poem or story. I love that this is possible from just a scene along a windowsill.

(I've had a sudden brainwave regarding the name of the erstwhile love interest of the main protagonist of my burgeoning novel. Isn't it amazing how a name can just crop up from nowhere and say 'you know I'm right and I thought I'd make myself known to you or you'll take an age to arrive at me'. I know its the right name, God knows how it came to my mind and when I looked up what the name means it was even more right. Good golly Miss Molly - its a strange old world.)