On a recent visit to Waterstones in Amersham, it was wonderful to see our books of short stories being promoted alongside short stories by ‘other’ authors… With Tom Hanks, Jojo Moyes and…
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Just Write attended the garden party given by our local charity of choice, The Hospice of St Francis, in the grounds of Ashridge House on Sunday 3rd June. It was a beautiful…
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I’m not an adult but a boy, fifty years ago. I’m seated at the end of a long table with thirty boys either side of it in a vast dining hall overlooked…
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Not Like My Dad When I was still at primary school I swore I’d never get angry like my Dad When I grew to be a man And dreamed of chairing Family…
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It had been a long day and Marina was tired. Her head ached with all the information she was trying to process. She decided to go back to the hotel, to try…
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For once, Ivan seemed in more of a hurry to get away than Marina. ‘I need to take this to a jeweller’s,’ he said, stuffing the necklace into his back pocket. ‘I…
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‘So tell me, Sally, why are you here at the Yusupov Palace?’ Marina looked into the eyes of the man who called himself Ivan and thought about how ridiculous her story sounded.…
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Marina knew why she was in St Petersburg, and why she was now standing in the Moorish drawing room of the Yusupov Palace. But why was Ivan here? She was following a…
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The journey across the River Neva was unbelievable. Buildings on either side rose up, confronting Marina, beckoning her further into this landscape which was both breathtaking and depressing depending on which side…
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Marina’s heart was in her mouth as she rushed towards the zoo exit. The clue could only refer to one person in St Petersburg in 1917 – Rasputin. But which of the…
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A chill wind wrapped itself around Marina’s shoulders as she walked away from the Fortress, her thoughts of the dismal prison cell adding to the gloom of the late afternoon. The sun…
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After only a few steps Marina stopped short, feeling suddenly dizzy. She stepped aside from a tour group approaching the church door and sank down on a low stone wall. The scrap…
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Marina breathed in the cold air as she stood at the top of the aeroplane steps. The sun was shining but the bitter St Petersburg wind needled her face as she descended…
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It wasn’t a day for dying. It was early spring and hope was in the air. Birdsong was reaching a crescendo and new growth was everywhere, above and below. Cloistered in a…
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Just Write is at it again! We are writing a new collaborative serial for publication on this website. Each author is writing one chapter and has 48 hours to write their section…
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It was only after her father was imprisoned that Amber felt confident enough to wear The Dress. At best he would have told her to take it off, at worst he would…
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Short stories on International Women's DayStars in my eyes – a collaborative story by Liz, Lesley and Debbie
Saturday mornings always followed the same route when I was a kid. Jam on toast for breakfast, then Mum would shout downstairs for you to come up for your bath, which involved…
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Short stories on International Women's DayFuture imperfect – a collaborative story by Emma, Angela and Lesley
I woke up and stretched. There was that half a second when everything seemed alright with the world, until I remembered our specialist’s voice saying, ‘Many couples have very happy lives without…
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Short stories on International Women's DayDoors – a collaborative story by Carol, Debbie and Angela
I’ll never forget those doors. They are imprinted on my soul. They are the doors that I walked through, heavily pregnant and scared to death, and the doors that I walked out…
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Short stories on International Women's DayComing home – a collaborative story by Debbie, Carol and Emma
He could hear her voice as he ran. ‘Breathe,’ she said. ‘Breathe.’ She was the only one he would listen to. Her voice echoed through his head as he ran from the…
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Unusually, we were all women at our latest writing class and our teacher for the night, Nicki, presented us with sheets of paper on which she had printed pictures of a person,…
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Shakespeare Street was officially launched on Tuesday at a party in Amersham’s Cafe Africa. In the photo (taken by Angela’s husband Keith) we are all saying ‘sausages’ I think, and it includes…