And The Band Played On


Thanks to Rochelle for continuing to keep the Fictioneers in tune and to David Stewart for his photo this week, there was a bandstand like this one, in the park near where I grew up, those were the days…

Copyright David Stewart

                        Copyright David Stewart

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

And The Band Played On

‘When we’re married, you won’t go away to sea anymore will you, Wallace?’

‘No love, I promise. But these jobs bring in more money than I was earning in the orchestra.  I get to see more of the world too.’

Maria smiled, sensing it was best to leave things there. He had promised.

The letter telling him the band had been transferred to the White Star Line came three days later.

‘Look, I’ve been assigned as the new bandleader love, I could make some good contacts for the future.’

With Maria’s blessing he boarded RMS Titanic on 10th April 1912

♫ ♫ ♫

Wallace Hartley was born in my home town of Colne in Lancashire.  A large bust of him stood outside the library and I used to pass it most Saturdays when I went shopping with my mother. The story of how the band played on as the Titanic sank, was told to every pupil. The town is very proud of its famous son. You can read more about him here

Wallace_Hartley wikipedia

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

 

180px-Wallace_Hartley_memorial

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

 

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An Enchanted Place


All over the world, (yes that’s right) writers are busy staring at the photo prompt and putting fingers to keys to say just what they see.  Thanks to Sandra Crook for the photo this week and to Rochelle for leading us along the Friday Fictioneers trail.

13 March

 

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

An Enchanted Place

Fairies danced here once. My sister, cousin and I watched them at twilight as they danced about in the clover, their flimsy wings translucent and dotted with pale colours. No adult believed our stories, laughter and a pat on the head was their usual response.

Life moved on as life does, we three lived ours in different countries, until death robbed us of our cousin. Returning to this place where we played and laughed together, I feel the loss of the child I knew and the weight of the adult I’ve become.

I won’t come back.

The diggers arrive tomorrow.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

Note: Our enchanted place is no more, except in my memory. Fifty houses now stand in the field I was remembering, where we ‘saw’ the fairies long ago.

Click on Mr Frog to read more great stories 

A chat between two writers


I first met Claire and Helena through the flash fiction site ‘Friday Fictioneers‘ and I’m so pleased that I did. Their writing, though very different is quite brilliant.

Claire Fuller

Last week I had an online chat with Helena Hann-Basquiat a Canadian writer, about our recent and forthcoming publications.

My novel Our Endless Numbered Days, has already received positive reviews in the national press, and Helena currently has a Pubslush campaign taking pre-orders for Memoirs of a Dilettante Volume Two, and is also publishing a Shakespearean-style play, a tragi-comedy called Penelope, Countess of Arcadia. 

Overheard over coffee at Helena’s…

The one, the only Helena Hann-Basquiat, everyone's favorite dilettante

I’ve just grabbed a coffee, are you sitting comfortably?

Claire Fuller Colour

Yep!

The one, the only Helena Hann-Basquiat, everyone's favorite dilettante

Well, Claire, I guess to start off, I should say that I really only know you from Friday Fictioneers, but that I’ve already a respect for your writing. I can’t recall how long ago you announced that Our Endless Numbered Days was being published, but I recall being excited. How long a journey has this been for you?

Claire Fuller Colour

The book sold in the UK and Canada nineteen months ago…

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