‘Links to Writing Prompts’ – Page Now Up


Dear Readers,


I’ve created a Page dedicated to Links for Writing Prompts. You can access it if you click here as well as see it on my sites menu bar.

I’ve included Websites, Android Apps and IOS App info.

Writing Prompts help get you out of being stuck. They help with Writer’s Block. And they are also fun!

I hope you find it useful.


Victoria 🙂


A Few Words that Will Help You Write

Genre: Non-Fic Writing Related


There are some of you who know how much I get crippled with ‘Writing-Self-Doubt’ as well as ‘Writers-Block’.

Well, I’ve found a little trick I’d like to share that has certainly got me off my arse and tapping on the keyboard. And they are:

… 2 plain A4 pieces of paper stuck on the wall opposite my writing space with 2 pieces of advice…

Just Write!


Write for You!

That’s it! No fancy lettering, no precise alignment either; just simply 2 phrases I picked up* that I would give a try to kick-start my literary engine…. And they do!

The message is this:

“Do whatever you have to make yourself write. Because every day of procrastination is a waste; especially when you know that you have the goods in you to write”

* Thanks go to Kellie Elmore for ‘Just Write!’ and Artfully Adelie for ‘Write for You!’ *

They inspired me – maybe I can inspire You! 🙂

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The Lion and his Lioness

Genre: Romance


I used to look at him, there was something strange that I could not put my finger on, he was beautiful though. Our eyes literally spoke as we walked past each other “I want you” his said, and mine? “come get me”. And with that, ‘We’ were created as an ‘Us’. Then he went away.  My heart broke in half, I didn’t want to live any more, but I had a strange feeling of hope inside, that he’d one day come back.

I moved on after that, went away to study, yet I always had this feeling of wherever I went, he was there, right by my side as if we never parted. I dated other boys, but they were nothing like him.

The seasons rolled by one at a time after each other until a full circle would bring them around again. I never did see him in all those years. But something felt, in a good way, right. I just knew, like the seasons, we’d come full circle once we’d completed carving out our own destinies: It was like The Light had bought us together and The Light – it never misleads.

Dark days occurred where I’d miss him throughout my entire being. Madly, though, I kept hopeful one day will come where we’ll meet. And it sure as hell did!

Lions in a forest, lost, but always looking for their pride. Beasts will always find their mate, enduring harsh realities and much walking. But they always meet, eventually. And when they do, they create their off-spring; a Lioness, cleaning and teaching her young; The Lion, protecting his prizes. They stay together, whatever the researchers think who can’t get close enough to see the real truth. A Lion never loses his first mate; the Lioness nor hers; they remain, whatever.

And that’s how the story goes with him and me. We’ll never lose sight of each other again. And we’ll never stray away. If we did, we’d lose the fight, grow weak and be lost in the wilderness like the Lions.

My friends always thought me odd that I’d wait this long for a man. What they didn’t know was that we loved each other and we never left. In distance we did leave, but in spirit, we were there in each others grasp the whole time.

Learn from this my friends: Learn to let the other breathe and clear their spaces first before you jump right in. Because if it is eternal, you’ll never be apart for a single moment, however you feel. They’ll always return in a full circle like the cycle of the seasons. And when that happens, you’ll be laughing your heads off!

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FWF by Kellie Elmore Prompt, here



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She Knows What We Don’t

Here is your FWF prompt:
Tell me about this girl…


Quote by Joanne Harris*

She Knows What We Don’t

She definitely was different; more accurately, different in a good way. You never knew quite what was going on in her mind, but you knew that she was reliable and honest and loyal. It’s this thing about her, despite being unlike the rest of us, you could really be at ease with her, be yourself with her, none of the pretending or acting that we all did when we were together. No, she was not like us.


I have wondered many a time, what is her secret. She has this way about her that speaks volumes even though she’s quiet when she’s around us. One-on-one though, she listens, actually, really, listens – like you’re the most important person in the world. And knowing too, that to tell her something, she’d make no judgement, she’d just listen and that’s why she is admired by each and every one of us (though we would never came right out and say that), but we know it, and we respect her for that.


But sadly, there are people who don’t quite get her. To them she’s odd and therefore an easy target. We always do our best to protect her, but we all know how tongues wag. They don’t like her because she isn’t the same. I think they are jealous of her. She knows what they don’t, (and don’t ask me, I don’t know what she knows either), but those that are mean about her, I believe, feel jealous, like she’d cracked the code somehow and they can never have that ability for themselves. And they’d never get it because she’s one of a kind: Thoughtful, compassionate and unlike anyone I’d ever met.


She has it all – not money or a rich husband or a great family – but she knows something we don’t and even I envy her for that. But I’m not spiteful about it, I truthfully look up to her; this bad-ass strong woman who doesn’t suffer fools gladly. She would always stand up for herself by using her mouth, and that’s the reason she was sniggered at behind her back because those girls never had the guts to confront my friend to her face. Because if they did, they knew, they would lose. Don’t get me wrong, she doesn’t like confrontation, (much), but she’d rather have that than the back stabbing because she never knew where she stood and that is what make’s her so frustrated, plus because she knows it’s going on. But, as no one had the backbone to say anything to her – because she would knock them down in one sharp swoop – it makes her feel powerless, sensitive, vulnerable. Yet, in all honesty, she’s as strong as a diamond.


Make of her what you will. To me though, she’s an animal, no, I mean primal; she does not even fear death. Maybe people are afraid of her – what might happen in her company: She see’s through people, you see; and what makes me laugh – is they and we, all know it!


She’s a good woman. And if anyone was to say a bad thing about her while I was around, they had better be quiet as I’d stick up for her, however different she is. Different is good and I like her. It’s the back-biters that ultimately lose out by not having her friendship. And in that, I take great comfort because she accepts me and the others the way we all are… And that makes us extremely fortunate to have her in our group.


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#FWF Free Write Friday prompt by Kellie Elmore

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The Ship That Was… Or Still Is?

Tom woke up rubbing the throbbing bump on his head. The pain was large. He cautiously looked around him. He was in some kind of cabin, gently swaying left and right. Through a small circular window, he catches a glimpse of the surrounding sea. He doesn’t know how he got here. He slowly stands, already feeling woozy from the rocking motion of the vessel he is on. The area where Tom stands is cramped and in front of him is a calendar hanging at an angle on the wall. He traces through the dust that’s settled and reads the year – 1682. He cannot see how this is possible. Delirium must have got to him.

In contrast to the darkness of this place, is a beam of light coming down from above. Blinking as he looks up, reaches and holds the bannister of a set of stairs that lead there. It is old, wooden and unstable. He treads carefully with each step. At the top now he gently pushes open the glass panel and peers around before climbing out onto the deck of a ship. Itself is not that big, also not new either, but a rickety old ship which seems to still be in working order. Why 1682 he thinks, still rubbing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose to try to relieve the tension in his eyes.

There are a few men working on various jobs on the ship, some walking by from end to end. He tries to speak with the nearest sailor man to him but the figure just walks straight past him, doesn’t even acknowledge him. That he didn’t understand so he tries with another crewman who was coming towards him. Again, the sailor walked straight on past him without even looking at him.

Suddenly Tom hears a voice shout to him, “There’s no use laddy, they can’t see you or hear you”. A man was casually sitting on a crate at the front of the ship peeling with a knife an orange, eating segments of it as he did. “Where am I? And what is this?” Without looking up from his cutting, the man went on to tell Tom that they were on a Ghost Ship that sank 4 centuries ago. “Flannigan’s the name, you can thank me in a bit for rescuing you”. I introduced myself and learned we had been on an Airplane heading for Los Angeles from Ireland when the plane ran into trouble and plummeted in to the sea. Apparently Flannigan had seen I survived and hauled me on to a coming vessel – this ship.

“I have to phone my Mom” My cell was not on me. “Didn’t you here me laddy? The plane crashed, you and I were the only ones who made it and now, we are here – on a ship with ghosts – somehow I don’t think you’d get reception, do you?”. Good point. This cannot be happening. “Well how are we to get back home?” Tom watched Flannigan walk towards the Captain’s room and decided to follow, see if he could help. How crazy and bizarre this situation seemed, there must be a way off this ship and call for help.

“Flannigan, is this the Bermuda Triangle or something?” It felt like the only explanation to think of which also meant, according to the myth, that they won’t be found because Planes, Ships, Men, they never are found let alone return from the Triangle. Tom’s panic shot through the roof. “Here, look” Flannigan interrupted and pointed to some charts. Studying them, hope flashed through Tom that if they could get this ship sailing, they could end up close to the Island of the Bahamas. “Can we sail her?” Tom asked excitedly. “Flannigan always knows a way laddy” giving Tom a quick wink, and then began to try to steer the ship. The Crewmen were still wondering around like mindless drones taking no notice of them.

Suddenly, the ship came to an abrupt halt. Tom panicked, “What’s wrong?”. Seems the anchor was holding them down. Anchor retrieved, they carried on attempting to sail the vessel. Flannigan whistled as he steered the ship. They had found the fastest route to the Island and should be there in 3 days. The bump on his head was still throbbing so Tom went and had a lay down in the cabin from where he’d woken up.

Suddenly Tom starts hearing a load of commotion around him. His eyes open to his Mom looking at him stroking his hair. “Hi sweetie”, “Mom. What are you doing here?” “Tom, you’re in Hospital. You gave us a scare. It took a while but the wonderful Coasts Guards eventually found you. That was a nasty bump you took on your head, love”. Bump? Tom touched his head and sure enough there was a lump the size of an orange on it. His Mom sensing her sons confusion finished the story off by telling him that while out on his Jet Ski a huge wave struck and caused him to smash his head on the bars and knock him unconscious.

Tom never felt so relieved in his life. The whole Ghost Ship experience was a dream, it never happened. He double checked his surroundings just to make sure that it was real. He was satisfied. “You need to rest love, get your strength up. Just sleep. I’ll be back in a minute” And with a kiss on the head she left. Tom exhaled loudly and relaxed back into the pillows on his Hospital bed. He almost didn’t see the Janitor in his room emptying the bins. “Thank you” Tom said as the man was finishing. In the doorway, the man turned to Tom and spoke “No worries laddy, you just get well soon” And with a wink, left the room, whistling.


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Prompt: Free Write Friday: Time and PlaceYou find yourself in the lower level of an old ship. A calendar on the wall says  1682. There is a small window, and the view is nothing but open sea and a setting sun. There is a staircase and you can see daylight at the top…

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Genre: Non-Fiction


Hi 🙂 I genuinely suffer with ‘Vertigo‘. Some call it a Symptom and in extreme cases, an Illness.

When I cross that bridge and look down at the motorway below – my body, as if possessed by an unknown force, immediately shifts itself away from the railing. It’s like an autopilot reaction I don’t have control over.

I also have a fear of heights: Maybe I have both…

‘Ladders’ – Dad climbs up them every day; me, on the other hand, cannot move beyond the first rung. My head starts to spin and fear gets the better of me.

Why am I getting it? At 21, I feel from an upstairs window (‘Ouch’ – I know!) and was hurt quite badly. And I’ve had this problem ever since.

This is how Vertigo feels:

  • Your body going off-balance by itself
  • You get really light-headed
  • A dizzy, unsettled, feeling
  • Scared

It’s quite upsetting if I’m honest.

A dream I have is to go Horse Riding. I did it once and felt how high up it was and I was scared then. I intend to try one more time and if I can’t cope with it then I’ll get down. But if I could…. I would go tomorrow if it wasn’t for fear holding me back. There will be a day that I’ll give it a go. Horses I love, I love feeding them carrots: So we’ll see.

Lastly, even stairs I am weary of. Must be my age (I’m getting on!). And the fact I nearly broke my ankle recently falling down some, doesn’t help matters.

So, as with most things, it’s something I must live with and endure.

But I do wonder though if it can ever be cured and overcome.

What do you reckon?

Maybe it’s time I Googled it 🙂

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Post prompt: #FWF Free Write Friday: Word Bank



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