Category Archives: meta-fiction

Happy International Flash Fiction Day!

I adore flash fiction. For the uninitiated, flash fiction is generally considered short fiction of less than 1,000 words, usually with a beginning, middle, and end. Last year, I participated in (Inter)National Flash Fiction day with my story, Calico, in Raging Aardvark‘s Twisted Tales anthology. This year, I submitted to Flash Mob 2013. My story, Hey, Diddle Diddle, can be found on my own blog here.

But it didn’t seem right not to create a fresh work just for today. So, if you’d like to read my newest creation, Picture, you can find it over at the six minute story site. The idea behind the site is to write something in only six minutes, so be kind!

Thanks for reading, and once again, Happy Flash Fiction Day!


*image courtesy of

Leave a Comment

Filed under Current events, Flash Fiction, meta-fiction

Friday Flash: Femme Fatale

Femme Fatale

The man, exhausted from a full morning bent over the keyboard, grabbed the paperback from the shelf and plopped onto the sofa. Lying back, he opened the pages – prepared to surrender himself to the world another author created. He read joyfully for the first hour or so, but with increasing wariness as time wore on. One of the main characters looked disturbingly familiar.

“Elizabeth?” the man wondered.

“It’s Eliza now,” she replied. The crisp black text coalesced into the shapely form of the novel’s femme fatale.

“What are you doing here? In a Murder Mystery of all places. Aren’t you classier than that?”

The woman, now fully formed, stepped out from between the lines. She knocked some letters out of her way with the sharp heel of her shoe and sat down. Her newsprint crisp skirt swayed as she kicked her legs back and forth. She regarded him through coal black eyes before answering. “Class has nothing to do with where you are. It’s who you are and how you wear it.” She brushed a stray ‘w’ from her skirt.

“How could you.. What are you doing here?” the man asked, scratching his scalp. His face flushed with righteous indignation.

“I left you, Roy.”

The man’s features fell. “You left me? How could you…?”

“Oh- don’t bother to look so surprised. You haven’t looked at me in months.” Her skirt billowed as she swung her legs with casual rhythm.

Roy got up and started pacing before the couch. “I had to put it down!” he said. “The story was driving me crazy. I couldn’t see where the plot was going…”

The woman looked defiant but said nothing.

“Sometimes you need to put a draft down until you work out the plot problems. If you’re short on ideas, you need to give yourself a break, let the well fill back up so you can draw on it again.”

A smile creased the corners of her face like folded origami. “That’s true,” she said. “But you never came back.”

“I meant to!” he cried. His pace quickened. “But life got in the way. There’s so much to do…” He stopped, looking lost in the small living area. “I can’t believe you left me for another author…”

“I’d had enough, Roy. We were going nowhere fast. I wanted to live and see what possibilities life held for me.” She pulled out a long tipped cigarette from the folds of her skirt and lit up, depositing the match on the table beside her.

“Aren’t you made of paper?” the man asked, his gaze fixed upon the ashen end of the cigarette she held.

“I’m made of dreams, Roy.” she said, blowing out a stream of cool blue smoke. “That’s why I left you. You never realized.”


*I’ve been thinking quite a bit about a story that I’ve been forced several times to put aside for other projects. I hope you enjoyed the product of my musings. Don’t forget to check out more #Friday Flash!

**Just a quick note, I am working on some technical issues, but hopefully my podcast will be up again on Sunday in time for #Spoken Sunday. As usual, I plan to read my 52/250 story and then discuss more about preparing for Nanowrimo. Have a great week!

*image courtesy of Library of Congress via FlickerThe Commons. No known copyright restrictions.


Filed under fantasy-magic, Flash Fiction, humor, meta-fiction, Writing Corner

Poem: Jumble


All a jumble
what should i do?
or something new?
but wait i have housework
i need to pay the bills
just another load
oh what else should i do?
the words
spill on the screen
in a jumble
like my thoughts
i know i’m forgetting something
what should i get my spouse?
tomorrow’s our anniversary
and i need to make a card
he won’t tell me what he wants
and i don’t know
for things we can’t afford
but if that is what he wants…
what am i saying?
we need to fix our house!
i need to work on the garden
but only after school
my son should finish math soon
then we’ll cover history
and then there’s lunch
and oh- another load of laundry
maybe i should freewrite
but then again
i think this counts as that
or maybe i should
check on my submissions
or work on #fridayflash
or outline my new story
i think i’ll take a nap
oh i only wish
i wish i wish i could
but first
i need to do the dishes
or maybe just put on pants
my bathrobe’s good enough
to do the housework in-

*I wrote this free form poem this morning. It’s not my favorite, because I usually prefer my poems to be more structured. However I confess that the disordered state of the poem perfectly reflects my state of mind – at least sometimes. I hope you enjoy it.


Filed under meta-fiction, poems, slice of life, Writing Corner

Friday Flash: Parts of Speech – The Untold Story

Parts of Speech – The Untold Story

Housework could be a dangerous thing, especially in this house. That thought crossed her mind more than once as she performed her daily duties. She
picked up another carelessly thrown interjection, cutting herself sharply on the word. It wasn’t unusual. Perhaps she should wear protective gloves.

Cleaning her husband’s office was especially dangerous. He’d often, in fits of rage, hurl expletives at the computer. The screen hadn’t broken yet – most of the obscenities bounced harmlessly off to lay in wait for Sally on cleaning day. More than once she’d felt them lodge in her bare feet.

She made the best of it, extracting the sharp edges from her flesh to keep for later. She wrapped an especially descriptive epitaph in some tissue paper before placing it in her pocket along with other colorful phrases. She knew just what to do with them.

Her chores completed, she sat at the table and carefully spread her treasures before her. She enjoyed the feel of the sun on her neck as she worked, pulling her hair aside to catch more the warmth that seeped through the window. The light spilled over her shoulders, shining on a rainbow of words.

She sighed. Way too many obscenities in the last batch. Not that she was a prude, but when overused they lost their punch. She sorted her harvest into the correct boxes – organized by catagory, sharpness, or turn of phrase. The commas and dashes were kept in a drawer with her paperclips.

She didn’t know why her hands were shaking.

Recalling her friend, Michelle, Sally reflected on the similarity of their hobbies. Michelle scrapbooked with her friends, laying out their collected photos and decorations to assemble stunning family chronicles. Sally created a collage of words.

She picked up the glue, grabbed a conjunction, and started on a page.



Filed under Flash Fiction, meta-fiction, Writing Corner

Poem: "Doctor How"

Doctor How
*a parody-poem written 2010-03-05

Doctor How_ do you do
these wondrous works?
We have no clue.
You travel time,
yes, this is true,
in your mysterious
box of blue.

Doctor How_ can I write
about your exploits
without fright
of violating
or Intellectual Property?
If I am sued
by BBC
I’ll want a time machine
just for me.

Please let me know what you think. I am a huge fan of an unnamed but extremely popular time traveling hero featured on British Television. And I’ll just leave it at that.


Filed under humor, meta-fiction, poems, Writing Corner