I’ve just startled myself, by writing a story. Not that that’s anything odd in itself – I quite often do write stories, otherwise I wouldn’t be a writer. But this is one of those that you look back at and think ‘oops’. Did I really just write that? Pure, sweet, innocent little me (ahem). Well, yes, I did. And the trouble is, it’s evil. The sort of evil that makes you gulp and think ‘I’d never dare send that to a publisher, and if I did, no publisher would ever dare to publish it’.

A definite ooops, but hopefully not a waste of time. I’ve found before now that ideas can be developed, or markets spring up that I haven’t seen before, and suddenly something I thought was unpublishable is anything but. Here’s hoping that happens with this. If you see a flash story involving a man, a desk and a letter opener, you’ll know it did…


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