What's on my clipboard #4 - Flash fiction extract

The following is an extract from a flash fiction piece I have submitted to White Rabbit under the theme of Dreams. The full story is based on my fear and experiences of sleep paralysis.

The sounds start to get louder. Bones crack, joints creak, a papery, leathery noise of dry skin rubbing against itself. My bedroom is sinewy and dank, like a cave with the tide coming in. The waves crash closer towards me; small watery creatures rush away, spooked; gulls scream and wheel overhead. The sun plummets behind the very edge of the ocean, leaving me alone and cold. The tide is around my waist now, choking me, smothering me. On dry land, something climbs onto my bed.
My body is a hundred-weight, immovable and leaden. Concrete boots on an outlaw swimmer. The mattress squashes here and there as the creature makes itself comfortable. My heart hammers against my ribs in an awful tattoo. A shadow towers above me and it watches. And it waits.

 This piece was written by me, Ruth Sedar, and I claim all copyright and author's rights. Please contact me for further information.

Celebrity crushes - in defence of daydreaming.

We've all been there; the moment you spot an actor, musician or artist and your stomach unexpectedly turns over, you break into an terribly embarrassing blush and you suddenly realise you're 13 years old all over again. You have a crush, and there's nothing you can do about it.

You can be happily coupled and have a celebrity crush. You can be single and have a celebrity crush. You can be anyone, in any situation, and still wake up to discover you fancy Daniel Radcliffe (who is 26 years old, by the way, and did that naked Equus thing among other things that aren't Harry Potter).

I reckon you think about crushes the way you think about cake or desserts you know you shouldn't have, but you do want, and eat anyway - maybe this is a bad analogy - and then you feel sickly and sugary but still rave to your friends and defend that fudge cake to the last...

Daydreaming is fine. It's not like I know where Daniel Kessler or Daniel Radcliffe live (although I'm pretty sure they're both in New York, but that's beside the point). Crushes provide a harmless moment of nonsense in an all-too serious world. They'll never replace the people you love.

For Tom

What's on my clipboard #3 - first draft fiction

The following is an extract from my current fiction work in progress.
I've not written in the first person before, so this is really an experiment for me! The extract is a rough first draft, written in sprints, and totally unedited - so please forgive the wild leaping between tenses.

“Let’s take the stairs, it’ll be quicker,” Mum said. She was unusually quiet. We hefted the stuff up the first flight of stairs. I slammed the heavy suitcase down on the landing, panting for breath. I am horrendously unfit. I’m not fat; just feeble.
“This is, essentially, awful.” I said.
Mum glared at me. “Just get on with it, please, Katie. It’s not that bad.”
I looked at the small shoebox in her hands as scornfully as I could. We carried on up the stairs, getting increasingly sweaty and agitated until we reached the fourth floor. 

The door to the flat swung open, and standing there was a short girl with untidy hair.
“Hi!” she said. “Come on in! I’m Becky!” I rolled my eyes back and sighed.
“I’m Katie, and these are my parents.” I waved in the general direction of the only adults in the room. My Dad looked at Becky’s legs for a beat too long and then held out a sweaty hand.“Mike, pleased to meet you, Becca.”
“Becky,” she smiled widely, and held out her hand to Mum.
“Karen,” Mum said, distracted by the sunshine pouring in through the kitchen window, “Look at the light in here! Have you seen it, Katie?”
I’m getting impatient to see my room. “Yeah, lovely. What number was mine, Dad?”
Dad wrestled with the box and dug in his pocket for the keys.
“Two,” he said, looking at the keyring.
“Great!” Becky piped up, “You’re next door to me!”
“Oh good.” My will to live was being sapped away by my embarrassing parents and this relentlessly cheery teenager. “Shall we?” I gestured towards the corridor.

This piece was written by me, Ruth Sedar, and I claim all copyright and author's rights. Please contact me for further information.

Magical Lantern Illuminations - Gung Hay Fat Choy

At the end of February I was very lucky to visit the beautiful Magical Lantern Illuminations at Chiswick House and Gardens, in London.

The gorgeous annual light show celebrates Chinese New Year - gung hay fat choy!

Here's a small collection of photos from the event - all photos were taken on a Motorola Moto G 1st gen, and only cropped for size. No filters. If you want to use any of these, email me for permission. Some have previously appeared on my Instagram account @paintnothingnow.

Never Forget: Just Write

After a long drought and two languishing fiction works sitting quietly twiddled their metaphorical thumbs in the hard-drive, I have finally been inspired to write fiction this weekend. Maybe the Spring time flowers are helping, or the extra hours of daylight, but I am at long last ready to write again.

It all started on Saturday afternoon by binge-listening to some of my favourite music from University, and it got me to thinking how few accurate representations there are of being a student in fiction. Everything I've ever read has leant so heavily on the side of cliché that it becomes tedious and predictable. I want to write something accurate, funny, and (hopefully) heart-warming enough for at least one student, somewhere, to read it and say "This is me."

My major "This is me" moment happened last year when I read Caitlin Moran's How to Build a Girl, and wept with laughter at a plage in central France. In her main character, Johanna, I saw huge amounts of my teenage self in uncomfortably accurate HD. I want to give someone that same feeling of familiarity, of toe-curling embarrassment and of wanting to defend that person to the last. So I #amwriting.

This bad-ass elephant from the Magical Lantern Illuminations in London never forgets to write. If I could drink liquids by pouring them into my mouth through my nose, I wouldn't forget either. Elephants are ACE.

Why Inspirational Quotes Don't Work

We’ve all seen these quotes, often wrongly attributed to some poor, dead philosopher who can’t argue back. There’s whole Twitter accounts dedicated to trying to make the digital population feel energised, motivated and generally better about their lives. But does it work? Are these supposedly meaningful timeline messages just the online equivalent of graffiti on the toilet wall? Let’s assess the statement.

Beautiful things happen in your life when you distance yourself from negativity. Apparently.

Beautiful things happen

They do, yes. However, your definition of ‘beautiful things’ will undoubtedly differ from mine. A short, but not exhaustive list of things I think are beautiful:
Puppies; having the correct change; perfectly crisp toast smothered in butter; love, I guess; peeling the foil lid off the toothpaste in one piece; stars, probably?

To use an actual proverb, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. In terms of your beautiful things, you do you.

In your life

What does this actually mean? Is it suggesting the aforementioned beautiful things will happen to me, or just in my life? This could easily mean things will happen to other people, or inanimate objects in my life. In your life. My skin is part of my life. So is catching the bus. This part is too vague, and not worthy of further assessment.

When you distance yourself from negativity

Okay, let’s have a go on this bit. If for some reason I was in the vicinity of someone prejudiced or bigoted, I would consider that negative. As such I would distance myself from that person by either leaving the immediate area, or ensuring I never speak to them again. Would something beautiful happen? I’d be far, far away from an idiot, so that is a tick in the box for me.

If you consider something like climate change, would you distance yourself from that? No. You would stay. Either to help improve the world through encouraging renewable energy, for example, or stay, because leaving planet Earth is yet to become an option. You can’t distance yourself from a negative environmental certainty. If you did, would something beautiful happen? You’d be ignoring the future of the planet in favour of running around, fingers in ears, going “la-la-la I’m not listening”. No tick.

Nope, this quote doesn’t work; it’s all wonky. Beautiful things don’t happen as a direct result of experiencing no or fewer negative things. People are moulded by their experiences of the world, both good and bad. “Distancing” yourself is not enough, and running away or hiding from negativity won’t make it go away. We must face the monsters under our bed and care about each other. No amount of inspirational quotes will activate change; only the actions of willing people can do that.

To sum it up, I suggest a small, almost imperceptible edit: 

Be positive.