Since December 1st Bridge House Publishing have been posting on their blog interviews with the authors from the Snowflakes anthology along with extracts from each story. Yesterday was my turn. To see it click here or see below.
From Bridge House Publishing Blog:
Day 15 – Murmuration – L.G. Flannigan
What gave you the idea for your Snowflakes story?
Although it is a work of fiction its storyline is a personal one. My mum has dementia and I’m aware of how much my dad has to do for her on a daily basis. I hope Murmuration gives a little insight into being a carer and shows some of the symptoms a person in the latter stages of dementia may experience, and how precious moments of recognition are a joy for their family.
How would you describe your normal style of writing?
You won’t find long descriptive passages in my writing. I use a conversational style with dialogue driving the plot. I tend to write my novels in the first person and the present tense. My short stories are written in the third person and the past tense.
Have you published other material?
I emailed my first short story Trojan to Bridge House Publishing’s World Stopping Events competition. It was a runner up and was published in On This Day anthology in 2012. My novel Ordering Flynn Matthews was shortlisted in Choc Lit’s Search for a Star competition in 2015. I’ve had an offer from a US Indie digital first publisher to publish it but I am also looking at self publishing as an option. Either way I hope it’ll be published in 2016!
Do you have a writing routine?
I used to have a very structured writing routine but recently I’ve started a new part time job in a library and, along with my daughter, have taken up two new hobbies knitting and sewing. However I am writing on Monday and Thursday and every other Wednesday. The ideas keep flowing outside those times so my notebook is filling up.
Do you have a favourite place for writing?
In the dining area of our living room. It means I’m not hidden away from my family even if I am absorbed at my laptop. My children have learnt that they can ask for anything while I’m writing and I’ll say yes! The table looks a mess most days and I have to confess to tidying it up for the photograph.

Tell something quirky about you.Â
I have notebooks I don’t write in as they’re too gorgeous to use! See the Owl notebook in my writing space photograph above.
An extract from Murmuration:
Gwen retrieved the Christmas decorations from the back of the cupboard praying it would keep Fred occupied for at least half an hour before he was yanking at the front door wanting to go out. This need had been manageable a couple of weeks ago when it had been unseasonably warm but now a bitter Arctic wind blew and she was tired of being cold or maybe she was just plain tired.
As Gwen walked into the hall Fred was making a grab for his woolly hat that hung over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. Nodding to the over flowing box she said, âFred dear fancy helping me with the Christmas decorations?â
He rolled his eyes. It was his new thing. His way of expressing his dissatisfaction at anything he was unimpressed by. He pulled his hat on. âI want to go out. You canât keep me here.â
Gwen kept her sigh inside. It didnât help matters expressing her exasperation. âI know I canât Fred. Weâre going out in half an hour so help me while youâre waiting.â
Fred tugged back his jumper sleeve and stared at his watch. He circled its dial with his index finger. It broke Gwenâs heart. Heâd lost the ability to tell the time over eight months ago.
âIt wonât take long. I promise.â Deliberately she staggered a few steps and tilted the box as if she was about to drop it.
Tutting he said, âLet me take that. Where do you want it?â
It was at times like these, when the old Fred kicked in, that Gwen had to remind herself that there was no point saying âin the loungeâ as he wouldnât know where that was. âFollow me.â
With thoughts of the world outside their front door momentarily forgotten he did as she said placing the box in front of the real Christmas tree that had been delivered yesterday.
Still wearing his hat Fred prodded a branch, âWhere did this come from?â
âBill dropped it off.â
He frowned, âBill? Do I know him?â
âYes. He owns the grocers in the village.â
Fred rolled his eyes and shook his head. âYouâre wrong. Herb owns the grocers.â
He didnât, not anymore, not for thirty years but Gwen knew better than to argue the point. âOf course. What was I thinking?â She forced a smile. She spent most of her time pretending to be wrong to placate him. âHe chose well didnât he?â
âHerbâs always had a good eye.â Fred leant in and sniffed the needles. âI love that smell.â
His words warmed Gwen. It was one of his favourite scents. Maybe, just maybe, this would jog his memory for a while. She knelt down and opened the box. âTinsel first, then the baubles.â
âFairy lights first.â
Gwen leant over the box and flicked the plug switch. âI put them on last night.â
Fred took a step back and grinned, âI like them. Theyâre new.â
They were the same lights theyâd had for the last decade but they shone as bright as when theyâd first bought them. âThey are.â She handed him a long piece of tinsel.
His eyes crinkled as he stared at the gold foil touching his fingers. Gwen took a handful of tinsel and got to her feet. She proceeded to weave it between the branches. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her husband watching her hands. Copying, he put his tinsel on the tree. He surprised her by reaching for more and adding that to the branches.

Click on the Snowflakes cover below if you like to continue reading Murmuration along with 23 other stories.
