I’ve been pondering on flash fiction. This month I’m writing some every day. Here are a few thoughts about the process:
– It’s a useful exercise to use a prompt just to get the creative brain firing. Simply setting words down.
– A strict word limit can produce unexpected juxapositions. As in this micro I wrote this morning using Meg Sefton‘s prompt crisp for 50 word fiction:
First frost and the white ground is calling to me to imprint it. I run alongside tracks of mice and vole, earlier risers. Breath of dogs fogs the air, the shouts of their people boom and retreat. The colours of this time of day are muted, waiting for sun stroking.
I don’t think I would have come up with ‘sun stroking’ if it hadn’t been for the constraint of the work limit.
– Collaging the fragments which float out from my brain in response to different prompts may show up connections.
-At this stage this is all raw material, which I will return to later, to cut, shape and stitch into finished stories.
And here’s a picture, which could also be a writing prompt…..
Last year I took part in NaNoWriMo. That was fun and gave me lots of material to work on.
This year I’m back to FlashNano. Nancy Stohlman gives great prompts every day during November. You can use these as you like – for me they are so useful to get my writing brain going, and the little stories I start here may bear fruit later – who knows?!
I’m also using prompts from Meg Sefton to write a 50-word micro each day in November, posted on Twitter with the hashtoag #50FlashNov19. Another little brain workout.
Here are a couple of the micros I’ve written so far:
Day 1 – prompt #ripe
I scan the room. Grey suits, haggard faces, the smell of age. I should never have trusted the photograph. The line is so fine between fullness and the slide into the decay. There, he’s waving. I recognise the eyes. But the flesh is weak. Mine that is. I turn away.
Day 5 – prompt #cat
They said they had to keep us in for three weeks. My sister and I had no say in the matter. They said we were feral. I have no idea what that means in human, but when they finally let us out we climbed over the house. To show them.
Huge thanks to Nancy and Meg for sharing the prompts.
Thanks to all who entered my story competition. The entries were anonymised before I judged them, so knowing me did not benefit or disbenefit anyone!
I enjoyed all the different ways you used the prompt. On another day, with a different judge, any of you might have won.
I chose Samuel Dodson’s story as the winner because of the way it goes beyondindividuals. And it has a thought-provoking ending. Congratulations to Sam! Check him out on twitter at @instantidealism and find out what else he’s up to in the writing world.
I’ll run another competition before Christmas, so look out for that.
Here is the winning story:
There is a gap that runs through the town. A bisecting line that divides the residents. It is small – smaller than you’d think; and almost un-noticeable. Yet it is impossible to cross.
The two tribes on either side inhabit separate worlds, though they all pretend not to. It only really becomes apparent when people from each side start to approach it. You can watch them – go on. See how they pause, look around; turn away. To cross the gap would be to acknowledge it.
There are, however, cracks. They spread out on either side. They started to appear not too long ago, when the mayor of the town forgot such a gap existed, and tried to ask the town-folk what he thought was a simple question:
“Are you content with where you are?”
The mayor thought the answer to this question was obvious. After all, he himself was exceedingly content. He lived in a big house in one half of town. He had a big garden with a stylish wooden hut where he could sit and write ideas he had. His wife wore expensive dresses and he never needed to worry. People even brought things to his house! There were fancy dinner parties. He never even needed to go into town – so forgot all about the gap that neither he nor anybody he knew would cross.
He couldn’t figure out what to do when the people in the town said they were not content. He hid in his little hut and didn’t come out.
We live in ‘interesting’ times. There are lots of things to cause us anxiety and fear. I find the very best thing to do when I feel anxious or afraid is to get out into the countryside and walk. Trees in particular are very calming. Did you know that they have a communication system between one another too?
If you’re writing this week, make sure you take breaks and get out.
As I said in my last post, I’ve been working on edits of my second novella, In the Sweep of the Bay, which will be published by Louise Walters Books in September 2020. You can read an extract of it here.
The editing process has been a very positive and fruitful one. It’s been great to work with an editor who is thoughtful and thorough, and Louise and I have sent edits back and forth several times to get to the point where we’re both happy to send the book off for copy editing. Louise has challenged me on sections where I’ve been a bit too much in love with my own writing and I’ve had to murder a few of my darlings. I’ve also had to work to make some parts clearer – a writer may see something in her/his own mind, but we have to make sure we’ve conveyed it to the reader. But on the other hand Louise has also been sympathetic to my wish to retain certain things, so long as I’ve been able to justify their inclusion. All in all, I’m sure the process has made the book a better one, and for that I’m very grateful.
And, excitingly, we’ve secured the rights to include the lyrics of a song which is very pertinent to the story.
There’s a way to go, but we’re well on the road to publication.
Here’s a selfie of me in my garden room, a haven for writing.
Coming soon: My thoughts about the shortlist for The Guardian’s Not the Booker prize.