I came into writing late in life. I think I was forty-one or two (the years become hazy when you get past twenty-five) when I wrote my first short story, although I had written some pieces in high school and edited a newsletter for an insurance company I used to work for. Life before this time was very….confining, let’s say, and not conducive to the creative process.
Haunting the markets used to be a habit of mine. Time and circumstance has limited me somewhat recently, but I’m happy to report the majority of my bookmarks are still working. Small markets come and go at a fast pace and some excellent online publications, sadly, faded out of the marketplace. It’s a loss for everyone, because those ezines produced some excellent literature.
I’ve spent a lot of time this week writing. Alas, non-fiction has take precedence, and I am so out of the fiction circle right now it’s actually painful. It’s pretty sad when you have a hard time with your OWN prompt. Heh. I guess that should teach me something.
At any rate, here’s my offering for FFF IV. One good thing about this is, I think I might be developing a few characters along the way that might come in handy later on. I seem to be drawn to a mother type, which is not surprising, really. Art often imitates life, or do I have it backward?
I have a crappy title for this, and I realize it sucks, but it feels good to wrestle with words. Makes me sweat.
Another Friday already? It’s already inching toward the end of September — has it gone quickly for anyone else out there? Soon it will be full fall, then on to the winter. With that in mind, try this for a prompt this week:
“All he needs now is a pair of ski goggles and a goosedown jacket.”
Use it in dialogue, as a thought, or in a punchline. Who said this, and why? Where were they when they said it? What were they doing?
For further guidelines and “rules”, see the original Flash Fiction Friday post here.
Show me what you got, but most of all, HAVE FUN!
As an anal and borderline compulsive nut-case, I love lists. I make lists of everything – To Do lists, To Don’t lists (although I rarely pay attention to that particular list) and lists regarding shopping, inventory (mental and physical) and whatever else jumps to mind.
Yew doan know me yet, but Ah’m yer granmutha. Ah jess wanna tell ya a couple thangs before yew git here, in case Ah cain’t tell ya later. Fambly squabbles, ya know, it happens in all famblies, doan let no one kid ya. Yer momma might not let me see ya, mostly cuz of that no-good scum-suckin’ pig she merried, and Ah ain’t kissin’ his ass. It’s ain’t laik Ah doan love yew, but a body can only take so much. Yew’ll find owt soon enough, but yore daddy is trubble. He laiks them drugs and wild wimmen, and he drives yore momma crazy. Cain’t hole a job fer nuthin’, and he spends more time in the county jail than not. Ah doan see what yore momma sees in him, Ah surely do not. Mebbe he’ll straighten up when yew git here – we’ll see.
Yes, it’s Flash Fiction Friday!
If you’re not familiar with the rules, you can find them here.
This week’s prompt is:
Write a letter to your unborn grandchild.
That’s it! Easy-peasy. Post your link in the comments, and I’ll read each and every story. Check back Monday for market recommendations.
Most of all, have fun!
*Addendum: Like I said in the comments, this can be fiction or non-fiction, set in the present, past or future, or even told from a different POV — say that of your own grandmother writing to you. Think outside the box!
Well, the last couple of months have been quite a ride for me. Could you make this stuff up? Momma dies, family drama and financial hardship, pregnant daughter and a high risk pregnancy, more family drama, separation from loved ones, blah blah blah.
I’m afraid regular blogging has been pre-empted by the birth of my first grandchild.
Regular blogging will resume sometime next week. Thanks for your patience!