Fortnightly update 21: 14.09.2020 to 27.09.2020

EDIT: I’m a fucking moron. There are 26 fortnights in a year, haha!

In this blog series, I share my fortnight-to-fortnight triumphs (and failures) as a writer. Despite all the ups and downs, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This update is actually quite special, as it’s my 21st, meaning I’ve committed to my fortnightly updates for a whole year. Time to crack a Bush Chook, methinks. Also, if you’re one of the few who do read these, good on ya. I hope I bring some sort of value to your life.

As for the featured image, I had that made up over three years ago, when my writing journey began. It’s nice to look back sometimes and see how far you’ve come.

Nick Petrou

Flash fiction

I only managed to write one piece of flash fiction this fortnight, and it’s a just a little twisted. I’m not even sure if a publisher would take it, to be honest. I may just publish it on my website instead; we’ll see. Ideally, I’m writing and submitting a piece of flash fiction each week, but I’m not being too hard on myself just yet.

The Front

I write scripts for the popular World War II YouTube channel The Front. Three videos for which I wrote the scripts were uploaded this fortnight.


I write 280-character stories using various writing prompt hashtags on Twitter, and I also host #WeirdVSS. This fortnight, I wrote three stories, and I love all of them.


Monsters leered from the painted rib vault ceiling. Black candles effused charnel scents. She joined the naked procession, gibbering her way to the faceless priest, who pressed a six-fingered bloodprint on her brow and sent her in dark ecstasy back into the world.


There are certain truths to which I wish I was not privy. Like where we go when we die, and how it’s really more like waking up, and the shapes of the things that linger there, and how we’re just the same as they are, except that we’re still dreaming.


My marrow dried up years ago. It rattles inside my bones as I wander this irradiated world. Why do other skeletons erode, but not I? What binds my chalk? A curse? A purpose? A lone green stem springs out of a crack in the hardpan. I shield it from the wind.


Overall, it’s been a fairly quiet fortnight. Other than what I mentioned above, I also played my first session of Fate Accelerated with two Aussie dudes over Discord. Fate is an RPG (similar, in some ways, to D&D), and we’re running an X-Files-ish game. I’m a paranormal PI with a bit of a drinking problem. It’s great, and if things go smoothly, we might turn our gameplay into a podcast or something down the track — maybe. I’m also writing a “report” after each session from the POV of my character. I may start sharing there on my website at some point. I also did some freelance writing work for an American health employment organisation, which was a little different from what I’m used to but still interesting.

Thanks for reading <3