Hello friends,Here is the May/June newsletter 2025 of the Rugby Cafe Writers.
Life Stories Project
John has been working on a cover and editing the content. He is just over half-way through. It will then pass to the proof-reading stage before a copy is sent to contributors for them to check. We are still confident of publishing this in time for the Autumn festival season. There are some fascinating stories in the book!
Future themes for our Friday meetings (at Art at the Alex, 10am)
June 6th – The Birthday Party. A piece of writing in any genre with this heading.
June 20th – Write a story that uses the first sentence of a famous novel.
July 4th – A Misunderstanding (story/poem or memoir in any genre.) Word limit of 350-400 words for all pieces please.
Future themes: The Castle, Misunderstandings, I found the other half, What if/hoaxes. Ideas are always welcome for future themes. Also, are there any writing or publishing skills you would like us to discuss at a meeting?
Forthcoming Events
Sat July 5, Rugby Library. A Morning With The Rugby Cafe Writers. Reserve tickets on this link. Our panel will be Lindsay, Phil, David, Maddie and Susan. Please come along and support them if you can.
Friday October 3rd – An Evening With The Cafe Writers, St Andrew’s Church, Rugby. 7.30pm. This is part of the second Rugby Literary Festival. (Organising group: John, Fran, Dot, Rose, Simon P)
Sunday October 12th – Southam Book Festival, 11am to 4pm. We are reserving one stall for Cafe Writer Anthologies only. If you would like a stall yourself, please contact the organisers on this link.
Saturday October 18th – Market Harborough Book Fair, 10.30am to 4pm.
December – Percival Guildhouse Christmas Fayre (morning). Date tba.
Promotional Materials
John has ordered 500 Rugby Cafe Writers bookmarks which should be here in the next week. He is still looking into stickers and paper bags.
Send in your recent writing
Many thanks to those who have sent in pieces from recent Writing Challenges. I will keep all of these in folders in readiness for future anthologies and book projects. Keep sending them in please. You can also submit via the front page of our website.
Publishing News
Simon Grenville, occasional Cafe Writer, has written a play, Clemmie and Winston which will be staged at Rugby Theatre on July 10 and 11. Please go along and support him if you can. Last time, Wendy Goulstone had one of her plays performed. Congratulations to Simon!
Susan McCranor – writing as Suzy Edney – has a book of short stories due out. It’s called Bikini Briefs and is a book of short stories for the beach.
Madalyn Morgan‘s next book, Tribute is out next month and she’s self-publishing it.
Congratulations to Susan and Madalyn on their new books.
Writing Competitions
Here are links to a couple of short story competitions. They do have entry fees.
Southlands Arts Competition.
We had an excellent meeting on poetry. Here are some of the contributions sent to John.
I wanted to work on a farm
I wanted to milk cows too
With their great big black and white bodies
Sweet breath and deep lowing moo
Their noses like warm slimy soap
And tongues sand papery rough
Their long swishy tails big bovine eyes
And all the rest of the stuff
In winter my head in their flanks
My hand pulling down on each teat
Milk flowing down in my bucket
Warm and white and sweet.
Sometimes I lie down in their byre
A cow on each side of me
Hearing them breathing and chewing
Where else would I want to be. – Ruth Hughes
Wrangling with writing by Rose Marks
Switch on the computer
Sit on the chair
Stare
at the screen. Into thin air
Get up. Walk around
Put some washing on
Check tomorrows’ list for town
Hum a favourite song
Return to the desk
Sit on the chair
Stare
out of the window. Into thin air
My nails need doing. Must buy a card
for hubby’s birthday. This is so hard
Message a grandchild. After all at eight
her imagination is really, far greater
than mine. Can you help Nanny write a poem please?
Ermm. Why don’t you write one about your sore knees
or…maybe Spring or Summer? I don’t know
I’m sorry Nanny. I’ve really got to go
My friend is here. We’re playing Roblox
You’ll think of something. Bye. Love you lots
Go into the kitchen. Start cooking tea
Why does it seem like it’s only ever me
who can’t find an idea. Engage my brain
Writing these days is an enormous pain
in the bum
Tea is done
The dishwasher’s stacked
I’m off to bed. My poor brain is wracked
Tossing and turning. I just can’t relax
It feels like my mind is being hi-jacked
by rhythms and rhymes spinning round in my head
Why couldn’t they come in the daytime instead
I really should get up and write all this down
But I’m just so tired and I’ve left pen and paper down
stairs
What a twit. This is such a pain
I’ll try counting sheep. It’ll be right as rain
I’ll remember all this in the morning for sure
It’s too good to forget. It’s inspired. It’s pure
poetry…
Woe is me
I slept so well at last
but now I’m awake last night’s lost in the past
I switch on the computer
Sit on the chair
Come on now brain, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare
You have to remember the rhymes from last night
Oh, why didn’t I just fetch my book, pen and write
it down while it was fresh in my head, while I could
I’m going to cry. I’m just no bloody good
at this writing lark. I give up. It’s no fun
My writing days really are over and done
I’ll find a new hobby, start over again
Consign this poem of mine to the bin
Hang on…Poem
What poem?
While I’ve been overthinking
I’ve written a poem
Now isn’t that just blinkin’
Marvellous
My Daughter invests her Life Savings by Wendy Goulstone
Forty years ago my daughter
opened a bank account
with her life’s savings
to the value of one penny
and forgot about it.
This week she received a phone call.
Good morning , Madam.
What do you want to do with your account
as it has only one penny in it?
One penny? One penny?
Do you mean one pound?
I’m sorry, Madam. One penny.
Not a very good investment, then.
Wendy Goulstone
Imposter by Alicja Kulczak
In the midst of the chaos,
I find myself still,
The wind twists around,
A bind holding me in.
In this crowded street,
Singled out as one,
My vision clouded,
Filled with doubt.
The scent wafts through the air,
Dances around my nose,
My dignity costs less,
Than the sound of a thud.
Their body falls to the ground,
Now I kill them quick,
Blood splattered on the walls,
A precise skill, a lunatic…
Leaving them in the alley,
Away from the crowd,
I look out into the mayhem,
Watch as they squirm about…
Picking, like a bird,
Which one is next,
Licking my lips,
I glitch back into the place.
And now I blend right in,
Like red in a sea of white,
To find a new friend,
Becoming free once again.
AI poetry by Pat Garrett
In lines of code, a spark takes flight,
Words weave together, day and night.
Dreams of silicon, thoughts so bright,
AI whispers, in Delight
My poem
AI words they flow so easy
Because there stolen from us all
It’s our thoughts that are chosen
Because poor AI has no soul
It has no talent or emotion
Future art will just be corrosion —
Rugby Cafe Writers 
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