The May edition of Electric Press – Literary Insights magazine is now ‘live’.
Read for FREE. Follow the link or ‘click’ on the cover image.
The May edition of Electric Press – Literary Insights magazine is now ‘live’.
Read for FREE. Follow the link or ‘click’ on the cover image.
Did you know that we at Electric Eclectic also have a Facebook group? No? If you like stories, good quality articles, memes, humour and sharing, then you should come over and take a look.
You will be welcome to post and share something interesting, as we love interesting things! We try to make our group a little different to the norm. We love stories and life is full of stories. How are you coping with isolation, for instance? What is your passion or your hobby? These are the things we would like to know. Share your experiences, and read what others think, do, and enjoy.
When I was a child, I was brought up on fairy tales and nursery rhymes and it was where my love of stories first came from. I’m a multi genre author and tried my hand at fairy tale, something that creates the magic I remembered; think vivid colours, castles and princes and princesses – and wicked stepmothers!
On Saturday 25th April, and for the first tim, we are going to hold a book launch in our group. Themed around fairy tales, you can immerse yourself on the stories you grew up with. Throughout the day there will be fun posts, images, a quiz, and giveaways. Get your thinking caps on, gather a few thoughts and images, and come and join us by posting about your favourite stories.
This is the link, come and join us now and when it starts the posts will automatically appear in your newsfeed – just like magic!
This is the shortest story from ‘Tales of Crime & Violence‘, (Volume 1) which falls into the ‘Violence’ category… but not how you may initially think… which is all part of what these books are about.
I pulled the car to a halt, two wheels on the grass verge and switched the engine off.
Immediately the engine died the radio seemed dreadfully loud.
So strange the way you get used to the noise of a running engine. The way your mind cancels out the rhythmic growling.
I wondered if it was always that way, if we have the ability to disregard repetitive or intrusive sounds?
I mean, did the cavemen do such? Was there a need? Maybe during a storm or a gale, they could close their ears to the sound of the howling winds or the consistent noise of heavy rainfall, maybe?
Or it could be a newly acquired skill since… since when?
At first, I supposed it would be during the industrial revolution. The sound of looms, presses and steam engines; thumps, clashes and clanging’s, a metallic cacophony the likes of which had never been heard before.
But then, before then, there was war. Iron forges for portcullis and armour, stonemasons chasing rock into blocks for castle walls; the incessant repetitiveness of hammer, of chisel, of mallet.
Then the battle. Masses of men, horse and oxen meshing and mashing themselves into bloody quagmires of gritty bone and blood.
If ever there was a sound to blanket I believe I would choose to smother that one.
Especially after the events of this morning.
Those screams sent sensations tingling the entire length of my spine. I could not tell if they came from the nape of my neck and ran down, like a streak of lightning to the base of my back, or if they started there, at my coccyx and travelled upwards to strike my atlas bone.
You see, it was not the volume, the earth splitting frequency of those elongated screams which caused my vertebrae to quiver. It was the intensity of which they were emitted.
I actually felt them. Felt the full ferocity of their energy within every organ, every cell of my entire being.
That ferocity was only equalled by the way she fought. Limbs flailing like broken masts in a force ten gale. Vicious nails, the talons of werewolves, and sharp teeth with the uncanny ability to locate exposed skin without conscious effort, seeking to rent chunks of flesh from my arms and face.
It took me a long time to subdue her. My face was gashed, long rips of bloodied skin hung from my cheeks. My arms were cut, bitten and bruised, as was my ego.
It was during that process, while I was trying to overpower her, I could have done with the capability to eliminate noise. I am certain I could have restrained her far quicker had she not been screaming so loudly, so constantly.
Even now, as I sit in my car with the radio on, volume so low it is barely audible, I can hear her screams echoing in my ears, my bloodied hands still shake a little, the remnants of the violent trembling the episode left with me.
I know her screams shall be a sound I shall carry within my memory forever, carry to my grave.
Fortunately, before she could do further damage before she managed to totally dismember and disembowel me, other nurses came to my assistance. Together we were able to subdue and sedate her.
As I left the ward I looked to where she now lay, sedated and sleeping. She looked so calm and serene, so peaceful and content.
I cannot help but wonder what demons inhabit her tortured soul.
Tonight, I shall pray for her.
You can find all three volumes of ‘Tales of Crime & Violence’ on Amazon and other good bookstores.
They are available as Paperbacks
or ready to download eBooks/Kindle
As part of Electric Eclectics re-organisation and streamlining we are moving more information about Electric Eclectic to this site.
Regular visitors may notice the increase in the number of pages and there are more to come, along with links to relevant online pages, information and services.
Of course, we will still keep blogging so you are entertained with short stories, book excerpts and we will notify you when the latest edition of Electric Press magazine is ready for you to read. We shall continue recommending and reviewing books, hosting new book launches and, maybe, even indulge in the odd giveaway?
Two changes being made from now are, we will be sharing tips, advice and offering help to indie authors and writers, and we shall be sharing a monthly newsletter in conjunction with Magic of Stories.
During the transition, we may not post as many times as we normally do, but please keep dropping by to see the changes we are making and feel free to browse the archives, which you can do by scrolling, selecting a date from the left-hand menu, or by selecting on the ‘archives page‘ from the top menu. Whichever way suits will lead you to a plethora of exciting and informative material.
Thank you for reading this and please come back soon.
I first published this post, in June 2015, on a blog called Ramblings from a Writers Mind where I ‘write about writing for writers’.
The subject, one of memory and nostalgia is, I feel, equally important to the readers among us as it is to those who write. It is on that premise I now re-publish this post here, on Electric’s Eclectic’s blog.
I am sure I am not alone when I say stations and trains hold countless evocative memories for me. Many of these recollections are from my childhood, others from my adolescence and beyond. But most are essentially pure nostalgic longing.
I say nostalgic longing rather than reminiscent memory because most of the evocative scenes which play within my mind, when I contemplate railway carriages and station platforms, are false recollections. They are simply wistful yearnings for a time and place I have never been privy to.
Those of you who may not have a creative bent, those who are not writers, poets or lyricists may not, as yet, comprehend my words. So I shall, in my usual arbitrary, chaotic and irregular manner, begin to ramble away and hopefully elucidate you all too where my thoughts have wandered regarding this subject.
If you will humour me, I shall ask you to close your eyes for a moment or two and imagine you are on a station platform in the nineteen forties or fifties.
Hear the sounds of the locomotive hissing steam as it waits for the passengers to disembark. See the porters as they wheel loaded wooden carts to the goods wagon, while others push handcarts laden with passenger’s luggage to the coach doorway where they assist the people to board.
In the waiting room, a small coal fire burns filling the air with a sooty but homely scent, a scent of warmth and comfort. From a small kiosk, a man wearing a scarf and flat cap sells newspapers to the passengers waiting on the platform.
All around, a cacophony of sound melds into this concert of life, whistles blow, milk churns clank, You can hear the ‘thunk’ as reams of newspapers are plonked on the platform ready for collection. Passenger’s voices are a constant murmur, a backdrop to the stationmaster’s call of “All aboard”. Doors slam shut, the train huffs and puffs as it pulls away. A metallic squeal pierces the air as the wheels begin to turn.
Those remaining on the platform wave off their loved ones who, leaning out of the windows, blow kisses back.
This is how I remember railway stations. Or at least this is how my selective and partially false memories cause my mind to create this evocative picture in my head.
I am not quite old enough to had such an experience. I was not born into that era. My time came a little later. Perhaps I do have just enough knowledge, enough memory to blend some truth into this fantasy.
As a young child, maybe six or seven years old, I regularly watched the last few operational steam trains as they rattled over the railway bridge in Penge.
I remember ‘platform tickets’, tickets which allowed non-passengers access onto the platforms to say goodbye and wave off their loved ones, or to meet them on their return. I have sat in the comforting warmth of a British Rail waiting room which was heated by an open coal fire, the smell of which I shall never forget. I also recall when the green liveried trains had first, second and third-class carriages, as well as a goods wagon and guards van at the rear.
Some may say they were the ‘good old day’s’ and in many ways, I agree. But historical conclusion is not the topic of today’s rambling.
I was not born early enough to have encountered life in the forties, not early enough to truly know the scents, sounds and feel of travelling by train in ‘those days’. Yet I do have the ability to create with my pen an acceptable and, this is the important bit, believable account of ‘being there’.
This is where ‘false memory’ becomes a friend and not the enemy.
Mixed with the few true memories I have are the perceptions of what life was like during such times. I have absorbed and pooled many of these ideas by reading books and watching films from that era, such as Brief Encounter (1945), or The Lady Eve (1941) and many other such scenes from plays and television programmes.
If, as a writer, I do my job well I can utilise both the true, the false and the acquired to create a world which shall captivate the consciousness of the reader, draw them into my fantasy world as their eyes traverse the page. I want to fascinate and enthral the reader, not only with my characters and their antics but also by lending to them an illusory world where they can escape the mundane and humdrum of life, at least for the moment.
This is where nostalgia, or at least nostalgic imagery features. I believe it is something we all have a longing for. Who, for instance, would not wish to travel back, to at least one certain point in time, if they were able?
I know it is something I would do if it were at all possible.
So why, I hear you ask, have I focused on railways as a topic to discuss the past. The answer is simple. Trains were ‘the’ mode of transport for the majority of people ‘way back when’, when few owned a car, less could afford to board a ship and air travel was just an aviators dream, accessible to only the very wealthy. Most towns and cities, other than one’s own home town, were too far away to cycle and horses were all but history.
How many of us have not said at least one goodbye, waved off a loved one or shed a tear on a railway platform. Who has not been bursting with excitement and anticipation while awaiting the arrival of a train returning a family member, a friend or a lover home?
It is fact stations are a place many hold dear because this is where we have experienced numerous emotions, countless times.
The station, the train, the railway is a place indelibly ingrained, permanently embedded and entwined with both our memory and emotion, however true or however false those evocative recollections might be will still hold them close, we still cherish them.
We all carry within ourselves a simple wistful yearning for a time and place we have never been. If I can re-create that place in your mind, stimulate your emotions, have you feel the air, taste the scents of my imaginings as you read my stories then know I have done a good job.
Thank you for reading this post. I hope these few randomly scribbled words give you food for thought or simply entertained you for a short while, Paul.
To browse my books please feel free to visit my website, https://paulznewpostbox.wixsite.com/paul-white
If you would like to read a shorter book, say as an introduction to my writings, then check out my novelettes and ‘Pocketbooks’ on @open24, the Amazon store for readers by Electric Eclectic.
How often do you get asked, or hear the argument asking which is better… eBooks or Paperbacks?
To me, both have their benefits and downsides.
The main thing against eBooks is, you need a device and you need that device to have power. An uncharged Kindle, iPhone or Tablet is nothing but a piece of useless junk.
Even worse, is when it cuts out halfway through a chapter and your miles away from a charger, like on the beach or halfway up a mountain.
Of course, good things for eReaders of any description is the number of books you can store on them and the lack of space they take up. (Not that you’ll read even a small percentage of the books you have stored, while on holiday… or ever.)
The good things in favour of paperbacks are, you can read them anywhere, power or no power, charging points or not. You can flick through the pages of a physical book whilst in the bathtub without the fear of totally ruining it if it gets wet.
Also, I have never (yet) seen an electronic device used to prop up the wobbly leg of a café table, I have seen this done with a paperback book.
If you drop a paperback, no harm done, just pick it up and continue reading, no broken screens, no expensive repair bills.
Oh, and when did anyone snatch a paperback out of your hands and make off with it? Never is my guess.
There is also the wonderful feeling of holding a ‘real’ book, sharing it and lending it to your friend, or having it displayed on a bookshelf in your lounge. You cannot do that with eBooks.
Paperbacks do have a downside.
They are quite large in comparison to an Android phone or a Nook, so take up a lot more room, which is fine at home but can take a good proportion of luggage space when going on vacation.
And so, the discussion goes on. You may prefer one format over the other, or you may take advantage of the benefits of each, as and when you want.
What if… you could read a paperback the size of an iPhone?
Think of how many of those you could slip into your suitcase or rucksack, a handbag, or even your pockets.
You could read them anywhere, no batteries to worry about, no signal needed, no damage if dropped and no fear of anyone stealing them. You could even leave it unguarded on your beach towel when you went swimming, knowing it will still be there when you return.
How amazing would that be?
The thing is, this is not an idle thought, a sci-fi fantasy, or simply a futuristic dream. These books actually exist NOW.
Electric Eclectic has a growing range of ‘POCKETBOOKS’, smaller paperbacks whose dimensions are just 6×4″, which makes them ideal for travellers and commuters. These small-format books easily slip into a case, rucksack, handbag or, as the name suggests, a pocket, even the back pocket of your denim jeans.
Each pocketbook is a complete book, an entire Electric Eclectic novella or novelette. Most have an eBook option if you really prefer the electronic version.
Electric Eclectic is increasing the number of pocketbooks in their library, so keep checking in for new releases.
Click on any cover image to read more on Amazon.
Are you an aspiring writer or an indie author looking for a publishing contract? If so, the Electric Eclectic Novella Fiction Prize 2020 is ‘right up your street’.
Simply write a 20K to 30K word story, in any genre and about anything you want, and enter the Novella Fiction Prize.
Entry is just £10.00 GBP, (via official entry form) and the winning authors will have their manuscripts published as Novellas.
Also associated prizes; professional cover designs, marketing packages and author assist support, media interviews and more.
The Electric Eclectic Novella Fiction Prize 2020 is an international literary competition for emerging writers and indie authors.
Submissions are encouraged from all literary fictional genres with no restrictions on theme or subject.
The emphasis of the judging will be on ambitious, imaginative and innovative approaches which explore and expand creative writing.
The Electric Press Literary Insights magazine: February 2020 edition is now available online. Simply follow this link.
The doughnuts sizzled as Kate lowered them into the fryer. This was her favourite time of the day. The quiet time before the door sprung open and those two angelic faces stared in at her.
She’d arose long before the sun peeked its head over the horizon. Cheery happy kids would bolt downstairs as soon as they smelled frying and heard the sizzling and crackling sound as Kate place the gooey dough balls into the fryer.
Today she would attempt Boston Cream with a chocolate topping. She spoilt her kids. They got tasty fresh doughnuts in their lunchboxes and another for breakfast before they made their way to school.
It wasn’t the healthiest of meals but money was tight and doughnuts were very filling. Kate also packed their lunch boxes with fresh veg and fruits to offset the sugary fattening dessert. A sort of culinary Ying and Yang. It might not work, but it made her feel a better parent.
The girls’ daddy left home a couple of years ago. It seemed he found more thrills with his young secretary than he did with his family. They flew away to get married on some sandy beach in the south. Now, with his two new kids, he didn’t attempt to see the angelic faces he left behind.
Kate picked up the thick syringe and squeezed the cream into the cooled doughnuts. Then she piped thick gobs of chocolate across the top of each one.
Two sweet faces stood at the counter. She hadn’t noticed them coming into the kitchen, their chins resting on the hard countertop, eyes wide, and smiling from ear to ear.
“Love you Mama,” the youngest piped up.
Kate went to them and drew them close. She breathed in the love she held for her darling girls.
“Love you forever and ever sweet peas, never forget that.”
The door burst open and smashed against the counter.
Bang, bang, bang.
They never had a chance to run or hide. Their dead bodies simply slumped to the floor like a pack of rag dolls.
It was done.
The masked man scurried back through the doorway, disappearing into the dullness of the early winter’s morning.
Find C A Keith’s books on Amazon, HERE
Did you know…
We published this trio of ebooks to give you an opportunity to read some of our authors works, so you can get to know their writing style and narrative voice, before committing to buy their books.
We think that’s pretty fair.
The books are, Moth Balls which has five stories, Butterfly Bats with six, and Mayfly Recitals, with a massive twelve free reads.
You can find these books in the UK at Amazon UK
In the USA, and other countries serviced by Amazon.com
The following are direct links for downloading, but these only work with Amazon UK. Use the links above for any other country
Whichever links you use, you will get ebooks packed with various genres and styles to enjoy and all for FREE.
We are so good to you!
Please leave a review on Amazon for us and to help others to choose the books they would really like to read.
You can find ALL our Electric Eclectic books, ebooks, Paperbacks and Pocketbooks, right HERE, wherever you are in the world.