The story of an unknown man
This is a continuation of excepts from Harry Nicholson’s excellent book, Tom Fleck. –Jeff Guenther
Read Part I
Introduction: “Tom Fleck is partly a response to the flush of novels about Tudor royalty. I feel small connection with those great lords and their ladies; I sense more kinship with the lives of ordinary folk. So I’ve imagined the lives and adventures of unknown men and women, people without heraldry, people who left no marks of their passing except for the blood that flows in our veins.” –Harry Nicholson
More Fragments of Tom’s world:
Tom is with his father, about to dig into a burial mound on the Cleveland Hills: Continue reading
Today’s guest poster is Harry Nicholson. I met Harry on Goodreads and was very impressed by the quality of his writing. And his poetry. And his artwork. The following post showcases his evocative prose, selections from ‘Tom Fleck,’ a novel. –Jeff Guenther
The story of an unknown man.
Tom Fleck Amazon Link
Introduction: “When I was tapping out Morse in the pitching wireless cabins of tropical steamers in the 1950’s, story-telling was not in my mind. A career in television studios might have brought it about – thirty years working with stories in pictures soaks the mind with images. These days, in a valley below the moorlands of North Yorkshire, I have more time to imagine at leisure. My first tale is about a humble farm labourer and his struggles to be free in Tudor England.” Continue reading
The Glassblower, by Petra Durst-Benning, is a little slow to get into, but the story of the Steinmann sisters and their struggles in glassblowing soon drew me in. With the death of their father, Johanna, Ruth, and Marie have lost their last parent and their income. Life becomes frighteningly uncertain, and the young women face near-starvation. Continue reading
by Dolores Davis
Once there was a raven couple that followed Woman on her morning walks, because she fed them from a bag of treats. He was stout, with a hooked beak and a bold presence. She was smaller, cautious and demure. Woman named them Continue reading
Announcing the 8 Great Storytellers Second Annual Halloween Issue & Short Story Contest:
Send us your original, unpublished Halloween stories. There is no fee, but entrants must be followers of 8 Great Storytellers’ Blog in order to win a prize. All entries must be received by October 19th. Winner will receive a $20 gift certificate and publication on our blog. Second and third place entries will be published. “Honorable mentions” will be listed, but not published. Read all the rules
Spotted by James Flaherty:
“His brow was dark and thick; his jaw was sturdy and resolute. It was a face, thought Ogilvy, that had been built to take a punch.” –from The English Spy, by Daniel Silva
Today, the 8 Great Storytellers address the last question about Writer’s Block:
D: How do you get in the mood to write?
What’s all this nonsense about “mood?” If you sit around and wait for the inspiration muse to flutter by, you may write, but you’re not a writer. Writers, like ditch diggers. get down and slog Continue reading
Red sun blisterin’ hot, dryin’ out morning dew. No money till pickin’ time. Plastic sheets coverin’ sulfury-smellin’ dirt, screechin’ underfoot. Findin’ her place, bucket in hand. Endless rows of plump fruit fixin’ to swamp her. Mr. C. livin’ in her head, pushin’. “Hey, girl, you late. No profit in dallyin’. Finish yer row, have somethin’ special for ya tonight.” Seen Mr. C’s special before; not bitin’ today. Continue reading
Some time ago she read of a woman who could read the newspaper through her fingertips. Amazing, if true, she thought she wondered if she could duplicate the feat. Starting with the newspaper seemed much too daunting. Even a book seemed too much of a hurdle. She would start with a deck of cards.
After shuffling the deck three times — just to get the feel of things — she laid the deck face down on the table and slid off the first two cards. Which was the higher? She pressed the fingertips of her right hand, first on one; then on the other; then back to the first one again. It had to be the card on the left. She was sure of it. Continue reading