creative writing – advice & feedback would be great please x

There he was. Chocolate brown eyes scanning the room as he held his whisky in his right hand and his smart phone in the other. He looked just like he does the photos I had seen of him. He looked so smart wearing a slick black suit with a white shirt and royal blue tie. I know Casey told me not to attract his attention, but I just couldn’t help myself. I mean, a chance like this doesn’t come around very often, right?

It was the 6th November, and winter was caving in. The coldness made my nose look as red as a cherry and my body experiencing uncontrollable shivers. Making my way inside the pub I headed straight for the ladies restroom. “I’m so glad I wore my long black boots”, I thought to myself. My toes would have been frozen otherwise. Pulling my hat off my head my long blonde wavy hair fell down around my neck. Swishing it a little I let it fall naturally. I’d always loved having blonde hair. I was naturally a brunette, but at the age of 14 I dyed it blonde for the first time. Obviously at the time it was a huge risk to take, but it was one I’m glad I made. Blonde suited me so much more than brunette, which made me decide to keep the colour even if it did mean dying my hair far too often.

Grabbing my pink and black Paul Boutiques bag, I pulled my purple make up bag out and retouched my make up. My black eye liner had nearly worn off after the 45 minute walk to the pub and my face was beginning to look shiny.

This was it. Nerves were starting to hit me. Rumours had been going round for a while that there was a handsome journalist in town who was looking for intelligent, creative and trustworthy people who may be interested in helping to produce a special edition local magazine ready for the Spring to see how much interest it gets. I couldn’t quite get my head around the fact he came to this tiny little town of Biggley, but there we go. This old cottage seemed to be the place where the local book fan club met up to share opinions and have discussions. I can’t say it’s my usual kind of pub, but I needed to come to meet him. “Him”… gosh, I don’t even know his name yet. This isn’t a great start.

Straightening my pale pink knee length skirt and black cardigan, I took one last glance in the mirror and headed out of the restrooms and towards the bar. I had always been one to try and attract peoples attention in a “not so glamorous” way; I just couldn’t help myself. Casey told me to just grab a drink and sit alone and wait for him to approach me first, but instead I took the typical Maisy approach and dived straight in without a thought.

“A glass of rose please”, I asked the barmaid as she approached me. Straightening her white shirt she headed for the fridge and opened a brand new bottle of rose wine. “That’ll be two pounds sixty pence please maam”. Her voiced croaked as she handed me over forty pence change.

I took a swig of wine and a deep breathe. Time to make my move! Heading in the direction of the journalist, who at this point was sat alone by the window on a rickety wooden chair, I made my way in and out of the gaps between the chairs and tables. It was busier than a normal night in the pub – must be because everyone had heard the news of a big journalist in town. I was about five meters away from him and my mind was racing. I thought I was prepared for this big moment, but I just wasn’t. I had no idea what to do next. “Just act casual and smile” I warned myself repeatedly. As if that was going to happen…

Within what felt like seconds, I found myself in a heap on the floor at his feet with an empty wine glass in my hand. Shit. I tilted my head upwards towards the journalist and saw through my hazel eyes a big red splodge down his white shirt that I was pretty certain was the leftovers of my wine. The man whose friendly chocolate brown eyes I saw earlier, no longer looked inviting. His eyes were glazed over in fury.

I felt so humiliated by the look of disgust he gave me. I had no choice but to make my move now even though I wanted to run away and cry. Holding up my hand I said in a quiet whisper, “Um, hi. I’m Maisy”.


Hey everyone!

This is the beginning of a short story that I am attempting to write. But this is the first time I’ve ever tried anything like this so I would really really appreciate some honest feedback. Whether it is advice, or good/bad points about it – anything would be really helpful for me 🙂 I’ve tried to leave it on a slight enigmatic note in order to make people want to read on so hopefully it works. Please let me know what you think, whether you like it or not and whether it makes you want to read on.


Love Jen xoxo


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