So I finally joined Etsy and Shopify. Still haven’t a clue what I’m doing so if you have tips please send ’em my way! I’m also on the usual Instagram (Kasey Shelley), Facebook & YouTube (Kasey ‘a Scribbles). What do you writers find works best to get your words out there?
It’s OK
It’s OK to watch trash TV
when you’re not able for
the heavy documentary
It’s OK to ignore the texts
for now
It’s OK to change your mind
It’s OK to miss them
It’s OK to spend the day in bed
stuffing your face, crying,
or all of the above
It’s OK to love yourself
the most
It’s OK to have regrets
It’s OK to feel crappy
sometimes
It’s OK to tell them
how you feel
It’s OK to say no
It’s OK to quit the gym or diet
It’s OK to expect nothing less
than unapologetic love
It’s OK to sit back once in a while
and just take in the world
without the constant need
to give something back
Writer’s Block at a Glance
Struggling to write
Afraid you have ran out of words
Even worse,
ran out of important thoughts
Procrastination
Life has got in your way
of writing
Jealous of those who make it
look so easy
Procrastination
Blaming everything and anything
for stopping you from writing
Worried you only write well
when sad
Needing inspiration but not
wanting to force it
Did I mention procrastination?
It’s good to be back!
Wow, I didn’t realise how long it has been since I posted on here. The last while has been a blur with starting a new job and oh yeah, BRINGING OUT MY FIRST BOOK!
I’m so excited for my first poetry collection, Conversations With Myself, to be out there in the big wide world. It was a bit surreal, you spend so much time working on it and editing (oh the editing), that when it’s finally there in your hands it doesn’t really hit.
I’m very happy with how the book has been received. It has been described as a “manual for young women”, although both men and women have enjoyed reading it.
I guess now to tell you about the book itself! Conversations With Myself is two years of work, thoughts, ideas & rants. It explores themes of love, relationships, mental health and being a woman. The book is available on Amazon and has reached the UK and Canada!
After publishing the book, I hit a bit of a slump but I’m happy to be back writing and sharing my poetry with the world. The poetry scene in Ireland is something special, with a great sense of community. I enjoy going to readings to hear what my fellow poets have been up to. I also hope to be more active on this and get back into the writing prompts (who doesn’t love a good writing prompt?!).
I will leave the link for my book below and if anyone has any questions just let me know!
https://www.amazon.com/Conversations-Myself-Kasey-Shelley/dp/1086435788
Have a great week!
How To Survive Heartbreak
Feel it. The pain. Anger, sadness, confusion, relief, resentment, hate. Feel it all. Then let it go.
Listen to sad songs and watch sad movies. On repeat if necessary, until the words lose all meaning. Until they are just words.
Cry. A lot. As much as you need to.
No matter how much time you spend analysing what you said and did, it will not change the fact it’s now over. Your time is better spent on things other than heartbreak.
Stay away from Tinder and all that other shite. It may seem like a good distraction but the dickheads and fuckboys will make you miss him even more.
Do something drastic if you want. If it will make you feel better. Just don’t do something permanent.
You’re going to feel sad. For how long I don’t know. But I do know it’s not forever.
If this is not your first heartbreak I want you to remember the last time. When you felt like you wouldn’t survive that feeling. And look, you did. And you will again.
If this is your first heartbreak I want you to know that almost every other person who has walked this earth has felt the way you feel right now.
If you had plans together, do them anyway. With someone else or by yourself.
If you didn’t have plans make some. Make lots of plans. Keep busy.
You will hope they change their mind. That they’ll realise their mistake. Most likely this will not happen. Maybe it will. You can’t put your life on hold for maybe.
Sometimes love isn’t happily ever after. Sometimes it’s being unselfish and allowing them to be happy. Even if it means being happy without you.
When your phone beeps your heart will race thinking it’s them. Disappointed when it’s not. Annoyed everytime it keeps beeping. Just think, those beeps are from people who want to talk to you. Who care about you. Stop giving thought to those who don’t.
Finally, most importantly, it all comes down to this. You can not find happiness in someone else if you don’t feel it in yourself.
The same goes for loving someone else.
Picaroon Poetry – Issue #13 – September 2018
Delighted I have been featured in Picaroon Poetry. You can check out my poem Hard Work among some other great pieces.
Picaroon is back, with our last issue of 2018 – but don’t be sad. There will be a bit of a break, but we get back to our normal bi-monthly schedule in January. Also: we are now OPEN for submissions after our summer break, so please check our guidelines and send us your best rogue poems.
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Two Seats Were Vacant
Monday
Two seats were vacant. One was next to a large man. When I say large I’m being polite. His shirt was untucked and he was sweating profusely. The second seat was across from a young woman. Her blonde hair was neatly clipped back and she wore a simple black dress. As the train began to move, I chose the latter as there was more space. I didn’t want to get dirt and sweat on me before the interview.
As I sat down the woman smiled. I placed my handbag down at my feet and took out a magazine to read. I hoped the train wouldn’t take long, I had already missed the earlier one. “Oh my God, is she back with him again?” The voice broke me from my thoughts and I looked up to see the woman spying the front cover of my mag. “Oh, yes. Women like that don’t seem to ever learn.” We both laughed and then there was an awkward silence. The woman sat with her hands folded on the table and looked out the window. “Do you want to read it? I’m almost done anyway.”
“Oh no, don’t be silly.”
“No honestly, I should really look over some notes anyway. The trip to London can be long if you don’t have something to occupy you.”
She reluctantly took the magazine. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” I pulled out my folder and began looking through.
“Big presentation?”
“Let’s hope.”
She looked confused.
“Sorry. I have an interview today. If I get the job I’ll be in charge of a team of ten people.”
“Oh that’s so exciting.” Her eyes opened wide.
“Yeah, well, I just have to get through the interview. I’ve already had a phone interview and they were really pleased. The formal interview is just the last step in the process. What about you, what do you do?”
“Oh, I work as a temp at the moment. It’s handy, I need time off to care for my dad so that suits for now.”
“Oh I’m sorry, is he sick?”
“Alzheimers. We get somehome help in the mornings which helps me to get out and work. Socialise a bit.” She laughed while making a gesture towards me. I laughed back.
“But your job sounds so interesting. Tell me more.”
“Oh it’s boring really.”
“Didn’t you just say the trip can be boring if you don’t have something to keep you busy? Are these interview questions?”
“Yes, they’re about the industry, things they will most likely ask.”
“Oh, fun. Ok I’ll ask you.” Her smile was beaming.
“Em.. OK sure.”
“Cool! First question.”
Before I knew it we were at my stop. I gathered my papers together and jumped up. “Thanks for the help, eh-“
“Emily. Emily Brown.” She stood up slowly and put her hand out.
“Rachel Williams. Again, thank you.” I shook her hand abruptly and got off the train. Gathering myself I looked at my watch. Shit, I was going to be late. I got out on to the main street. Not sure which way, I asked a newspaper vendor. I knew I should have done a trial run on the weekend.
I finally got to the right building, ten minutes late. I climbed the elevator to the tenth floor. I tried to walk calmy over to the reception desk. “Hi, I have an interview with Michael-“
“Take a seat.” The receptionist didn’t look up and immediately began a conversation with the bluetooth piece in her ear.
“I’m a little late, I hope –“
She looked up and pointed to the couch behind me. “Take a seat. He’s with someone right now.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Great impression Rachel. I sat down, picked up one of the journals on the coffee table. Fifteen minutes passed and still no sign of him. I looked over to the desk but the receptionist had disappeared. I suddenly heard laughing coming out of one of the meeting rooms. “Well that’s great. We’ll see you Monday.” I stood up as the elevator pinged. I walked around the corner and saw Michael Walker coming towards me. I had studied the board members on their website. Assuming he was coming to greet me I put out my hand.
“Mr Walker. It’s great to meet you in person, I’m so sorry I was late for the interview.” He shook my hand, looking confused if not a little angered.
“The position has been filled. Sorry you wasted your time.”
“What? But-“ He walked over to the receptionist who had returned. “Martha can you get the contracts sent over to Rachel at this address, we seemed to have the wrong information.”
I looked towards the elevator. I got on it, still confused. It’s your own fault for blowing it Rachel. Late for the fucking interview, what did you expect? I stood off and saw her.
“Emily?”
She beamed. “I got it! I got the job.” She ran over and hugged me. I pushed her off. “What job?”
“The job I told you about. On the train? Thank you for helping me rehearse, it definitely helped.”
“What? No, that was my interview. Did you go to my interview?”
“What?” She giggled, looked at her watch. “Oh shoot, I gotta go, I have to get home to Dad. Again, thanks for your help earlier.”
“Emily!” She walked off without looking back.
Tuesday
The train wasn’t particularly busy this morning. I sat down across from a young blonde woman who smiled. I took out my phone.
“Looks like rain.” She said without looking at me.
“Oh, yeah it does. I hope not. I have a date later, I don’t want my hair to get messed ha.”
She snapped her head around to me. “Really? How fun.”
“Yeah. It’s actually a blind date.” I found myself whispering. “We met on a site for bird watching and got chatting. It’s silly –“
“Not at all, it’s really sweet.” She smiled over at me.
“I guess so. We’re meeting at the Regency Cafe after work. We both work in London so it’s handy. I’m going to carry a lily and he’s going to carry a red umbrella. It’s like something out of a movie.” I laughed, nervously. “What about you, are you married?”
“No. No, I guess I’m married to my career at the moment. I run a team of ten people so it can take up a lot of time. Someday.” She rubbed her empty ring finger. “Anyway, you must be so excited for tonight. Tell me everything.”
“Ah, I don’t want to bore you.”
“Not at all. Anyway, we’ve a whole train journey to London to get through. Come on, what’s he like?”
“Ok. So his name is Tim..”
After Eight
She tapped her nails on the table, glancing at her watch. The restaurant began filling quickly. The band was setting up. She put her hand up as the waiter tried to approach her again. He scurried past, dropping the menu like a ninja. A menu. Did he think she was here alone? That she was stood up? Not this time. He promised her he’d be here. That he was finally going to tell his wife. She grabbed her coat and stormed out.
It only took her fifteen minutes to get to his front door. She peered in the kitchen window to see if he was home. That’s when she saw him. Placing the chain around her neck and a kiss on her cheek. She screamed. They both jumped, looking out at her, terrified. He ran to the door but she ran on to the road. Wheels screeched. He held her close, called for help. She smiled as her eyes closed one last time.
She tapped her nails on the table, glancing at her watch.
Fun Fiction Saturday
Below is a short story I had some fun writing this afternoon following a prompt: A killer places an ad for a victim. And finds one.
Enjoy 🙂
There were three knocks on the door. Loud but slow, hesitant. Jeremy ran to open it. Disappointed to find a young woman standing there.
“May I help you?”
“Em..” She mumbled, clutching her book bag that looked huge around her petite frame. “I’m Jordan.. we spoke-“
“Jordan? Sorry this must be a misunderstanding, you’re a –“
“A girl.”
Her long blonde hair framed her rather plain face. “Well, yes. I was under the impression from your emails you were a guy.”
“Your ad said you were looking for a male. I knew if I said I was a girl you wouldn’t reply. May I come in?”
Jeremy looked beyond her, to see if any of his neighbours were about. He moved to the side and she brushed past him. The scent of strawberries followed.
“You have a lovely home.” She went straight towards the book shelf. Her fingers ran across the spines. He watched her in silence. “Voltaire. This a first edition?” Her eyes lit up.
Jeremy smiled. “Is that a question or statement?”
She giggled. “Sorry I’m a bit of nerd.” She put the book back in its place.
“Look I think there may be some confusion. In my ad I was looking to-“
“To kill someone.” She said casually as she picked up trinkets on the mantelpiece. “Me.” She looked around and laughed at Jeremy’s horrified face. “We’ve been emailing for two weeks about it. About when, how…” She moved towards him.
“Yes. Well I thought you were a man.”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“How old are you?”
“19.”
“I think you should go.”
“Why?”
“Because this was a mistake. A joke.” He forced a laugh. He walked towards the door opening it. She stood still in the middle of the living room, dropping her bag with a thud. “Please, you should go.”
“No. We both know what you wanted to do tonight. Just because I don’t have a penis shouldn’t matter. Unless.. that’s what you’re into?”
“No!”
“Then it shouldn’t matter that I’m a girl. You want this. And so do I.”
“You’re just a kid. Why-“
“Because I don’t wanna be here anymore.” She looked down to the floor. “And I can’t do it myself.”
“Is this a set up?”
“No.” She looked up at him, hopeful.
“You should go.” He gestured out the open door.
“It can be.” She didn’t move.
“What?”
“We had a plan. I have transcripts. Of you describing in detail what you were going to do to me. The cable ties so I couldn’t stop you once fight or flight set in. The points you would hit with your knife to cause a quick death. What you wanted to do with my body after. The cutting, exploring, learning.”
“Listen –“
“No you listen. We had a plan. And if you don’t go ahead with it just because I have tits then the first place I go after here is to the police.”
Jeremy laughed “And what? Tell them you want to die? They’ll lock you up in psych.”
“No. Tell them I spend my free time trying to catch pervs on Craigslist and that I stumbled upon your ad. And went along with it to catch you out. There are cyber vigilantes all over the net. I’d be just another one.”
“You fucking bitch.”
“Yes. And I’m a determined one. So either a, you can get arrested, or b, you can kill me so I don’t leave here and rat on you. And if you’re doing b, you might as well go ahead with the plan.”
They stood in silence for a moment, staring each other down. Jeremy cracked first and slammed the door. She smiled.
“Wonderful.” She went to her bag and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I guessed you were a red guy, was I right?”
Jeremy sighed. “You’re crazy.” He went to the kitchen and got two glasses. She followed him in.
“That’s what they say.” She poured as he checked all the blinds were down and the back door was locked. “I do have one extra request.” She handed a glass to him.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He took a gulp.
“I’m a virgin.”
He choked on his second gulp, red dripping down his chin. “What?”
“I’m a virgin. And I’ve made my peace with dying. I don’t want to live in this world anymore. I don’t want to suffer. But I can’t make peace with not experiencing one of the most fundamental aspects of human nature. So…”
“Are you kidding? You want me to fuck you before forcing me to kill you?”
“Firstly I’m not forcing you to do anything. I gave you two options. And is the thought of having sex with me really that repulsive?” She folded her arms uncomfortably, giving her small breasts the illusion of being full. He looked at her. She wasn’t ugly. Just not attractive. Her hair was a boring shade of blonde. She wasn’t someone you would remember.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea mixing business with..”
“Pleasure?” She picked up her glass, inhaling. “I’m not frigid. I know how to please a man. I just haven’t had the opportunity. I can assure you it would be memorable.” She leaned in and kissed his neck softly. She put her hand down to his pants. “Your body is already agreeing with me.”
He gulped back the rest of the wine and moved past her. Pouring a second glass, he nodded. “ OK, fine. Fucking Craiglist man.”
She took the bottle and sat down on the couch. “Come. We can start once we finish the rest.”
“First lesson in being sexy for a man, don’t stick to schedules.” Jeremy sat next to her, sipping. She lifted her leg on to his lap, her dress revealing her porcelain thigh.
“So, why did you place the ad?”
“I’ve had thoughts for a long time. They’ve become more frequent lately.”
“Have you ever?”
“Some animals. It was never enough. Why did you answer the ad?”
“You made an interesting proposition.”
“You know what I mean. Why do you want to die?”
“The world is a horrible place. It’s hard to see past the darkness.” She placed her glass on the coffee table.
“What about your family, friends?”
“This isn’t a therapy session.” She stood up and began unbuttoning her dress. It fell to the floor, revealing her equally plain body. She climbed on to his lap, her small frame seeming to feel heavy on him. She started to undo his belt. He moved his hands to stop her but realised they weren’t moving. Her body started to wave in front of him. His head fell back. She grabbed him by the jaw to make him look straight ahead.
“First lesson in being a killer, don’t post a fucking ad. A lion doesn’t plant himself in the middle of the herd and expect to be successful.”
“What?” He slurred, his eyes falling on the coffee table to the full glass of wine. “You psycho bitch.” His head fell back.
“That’s what they say.” She stood up, putting her dress back on. She felt for a pulse. Nothing. Grabbing his hair she cut a tuft of it and put in a small plastic bag. She poured the remainder of the wine down the sink and put the bottle and glass in her book bag. She headed to the door then stopped. She walked to the bookshelf and grabbed the Voltaire placing it in her bag. As she closed the door behind her she met a couple on the road walking their Collie. “Good evening.” She smiled to them both. “Oh, good evening.” They chimed back. When she got home she took out the plastic bag. She pulled an A4 hardback from under her bed. Flipping through dozens of pages to the next blank one, she taped the hair to it.
“Welcome to the six o clock news. A 30 year old man who had been found dead in his home two weeks ago, was poisoned. Jeremy Dalton had been discovered by colleagues who grew concerned when he had not shown up to work for three days. Police are exploring all lines of investigation. Some of the man’s neighbours said they came upon a woman leaving his home on the day he was last seen alive but have not been able to give an accurate description on her. ‘She was young, blonde, thin. We didn’t really notice her until she spoke to us. We paid no mind until after Jeremy had been found. She wasn’t very memorable, you know.’ There were no other witnesses and police continue to investigate but the case seems to be hitting a dead end.”
Kasey's Scribbles 