#fridayfictioneers via rochelle – 03/01

February 28, 2013

First, my apologies for barely reading anyone’s fine work last week.  I had some serious (on a legal matter) writing to do that ate up a ton of time.   Second, this was one of the toughest yet to come up with something, but I like what I ended up with.  I hope you do too.

Every Wednesday Rumbleseat Wisoff-Fields posts a picture prompt challenging writers to create a 100-word story, poem, or whatever works for you.  After posting your work on your blog,  go back to her site and add your link on her Friday Fictioneers post.  Place.  Page.

I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you.  Give it a shot.  I prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way.  Not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.

________________________

 home-made-car

The Car

David ditches work early, swirls the last gulp of lemonade, eyes the old car Mom built.  Smiles, remembers “driving” to California until Mom called “Dinnertime!”  Mexico for tacos,  Atlanta for baseball, until Mom called “Bedtime!”  Lunchbox packed, Disney-bound, until Mom said – differently – “Dad’s home.”

Dad’s home.  Smiles dried, hands twitched, eyes unsure.  Dad’s home.  Voices stuttered, bruises ached.  Mom, David, quietly awaited barks and permission.  Run to the fridge when Dad swirled the last gulp of Budweiser.  Dad’s home.

Schoolbus pulls away.  David Jr. runs up the driveway, smiling, singing, “Dad’s home!”

“C’mon, Son.  Let’s go for a drive.”

________________________

100 words

I started with a story about missing kids and an FBI investigation, searching the car for clues, but it didn’t pan out.  Then I switched to the car being a time-travel device for two kids, but I couldn’t figure out to end it.  Although I abandoned that one, I kept its essence.  Then it became a “time travel” device for a sad kid with difficult parents, but it became too sad to write it.  So I kept that but twisted it to be more upbeat instead of depressing.  I think that was a good idea.

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#fridayfictioneers via rochelle – 12/14

December 13, 2012

Every Wednesday Rocky Wisoff-Fields posts a picture prompt to challenge writers to create a 100-word story or poem or anything that works for you.  After you post your work on your blog,  you go back to her site and post a link to your blog entry on her Friday Fictioneers post.  Place.  Page.

PLEASE get a good look at the things in the picture before you read the story, or a couple of references might not make sense to you.  Oh, look at me, telling you what to do.  Sorry, sorry everyone.  Got carried away. 

Also – after the story – is a long list of the various versions when I first typed it out.  Each version has some crossouts, things I changed, adjusted, then the next version, and the next.  I tried to change some text colors to make it easier to see where I revised, but for some reason a lot of the changes kept disappearing each time I clicked “save draft.”  Must be a WordPress bug.  It seems I went through about 8 revisions and fine tunings.  I have to admit, I never expected to get some of the praise that comes my way for my effort, but the truth is that all that praise is due to revising, revising, and revising.  So, if you’d like a little writing instruction from someone who has been teaching for about 25 years – don’t rush it.  Take your time.  Examine word choices and phrases to see what you can change but still get the same – or better – meaning with fewer words.  Also sprinkled in there are comments about what I changed and why.  My thanks to the mystery person who suggested that I do this.  If she wants to take credit, terrific, but I usually choose to keep names out of it unless I’m sure they are okay with it.

I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you.  Give it a shot.  I prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way.  Not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.

photo-15

The List

Nicholas scratches his head, peers at smartphone through half-moon glasses.

“What’s this?”  Whining.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprays whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“They’re too lazy to write?  Sending pictures now?”

“Twitter.”  Sprinkles cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

She peeks over his shoulder.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Glaring, handing the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“The yellow thing with chains?  A bondage device?”

“Enough egg nog, pervert.”

“And that giant globe?”

She squints, shrugs.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

“Saint Fresh Mouth!”  Slaps him.

“WTF?  Bulls have balls, not cows.”  Pulls on his red hat, heads for the sleigh.

Mutters, “Bitches.”

__________________________

100 words

______________________________________________

now, the revising -

First shot -

A large man scratched his head while peering through half-moon glasses at his smartphone.

“I don’t get it,” he gruffed.

“It’s how they make their Christmas list,” Gertrude said, topping his hot chocolate with whipped cream.

“Pictures?”

“And Twitter.”  Sprinkle of cinnamon.

“I can’t even tell what he wants!  What is all this crap?”

She peeked over his shoulder, same glasses.

“Laptop.”

“I know that one.”

“Quiet.”  Pausing, then handing off the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“What’s that big yellow thing in the back?”

“Not sure, but I saw the elves throwing things at one once.”

“And that big, round thing?”

She leaned closer, shrugged.  “Cow balls?”

107 words

……………………………

 Second try -

A large man Nicholas (name saves two words) scratched his head, peered through half-moon glasses at his smartphone.

“I don’t get it,” he gruffed. (“I don’t get it”  not needed with “What’s this“) “What’s this?” he gruffed.  “What’s this?” Gruffly.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude topped his cocoa with whipped cream sprayed whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“Pictures?”

“And Twitter.”  Sprinkle of cinnamon.  “From Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“I can’t even tell what he wants!  What is all this crap?” two phrases were redundant, cut one.

She peeked  Peeking over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“I know that one.”  “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”  more snarky, saved a word.

“Quiet.”  “Shush.” (more in character with an older woman) Pausing with attitude, handing off  over the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“What’s that Big yellow thing in the back.  Bondage device?”

“Not sure, but I saw the elves throwing things at one once.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

“No more egg nog for you.”  suggests drinking issue, better than both lines above it

“And that big, round thing?”

She leaned closer, shrugged.  “Cow balls?”  “Cow testicle?” (“balls” is a funnier word, but didn’t want it to get mistaken for “cow bells”)

“Bull.”

“Don’t be fresh.”

“WTF?”  He pulled on his red hat and headed out for the sleigh.

……………………………………

Third try - 

Nicholas scratched his head, peered through half-moon glasses at his smartphone.

“What’s this?” Gruffly.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprayed whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“Pictures?”

“From Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

Peeking over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Pausing with attitude, handing off  over (over seems more reluctant, unwilling but have to do it anyway)  the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“Big yellow thing in the back.  Bondage device?”

“No more egg nog for you.”

“And that big, round thing?”

She leaned closer, shrugged.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

“Don’t be fresh.”

“WTF?”  He pulled on his red hat and headed out for the sleigh.

……………………………..

fourth try -

Nicholas scratched his head, peered through half-moon glasses at his smartphone.

“What’s this?” Gruffly.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprayed whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“Pictures?”

“From Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

Peeking over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Pausing with attitude, handing over the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“Big yellow thing in the back.  Bondage device?”

“Pervert.  No more Enough (saved a word) egg nog for you.”

“And that big, round thing?”

She leaned closer, shrugged.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

“Don’t be fresh.”

“WTF?  Cows don’t have balls.”  He pulled Pulling (saving a word) on his red hat and headed heading (saving a word) out to the sleigh.

…………………………………

Make it five -

Nicholas scratched his head, peered through half-moon glasses at his smartphone.

“What’s this?” Gruffly.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprayed whipped cream on hot cocoa.

Pictures?  Too lazy to write?”   “I expected texting, but not pictures.”

“From Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

Peeking over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Pausing with attitude, Slaps him, Evil glare, (trying to save words) handing over the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“Big yellow thing in the back.  “Yellow thing with chains?  Bondage device?”

“Pervert.  Enough egg nog for you.”

“And that big, round thing?”  “And that giant ball?” “And that giant globe?”  trying different versions to see which sounds better while being shorter.

She leaned closer, shrugged.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

“Don’t be fresh.”

“WTF?  Cows don’t have balls.”  Pulling on his red hat, heading out to the sleigh.

…………………………….

 Not finished yet -

Nicholas scratched scratches (went through the whole thing, changing to present tense, more immediate, might save words too)  his head, peered peers at smartphone through half-moon glasses at his smartphone.

“What’s this?” Gruffly.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprayed sprays whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“I expected texting, but pictures?”  “Too lazy to write?  Sending pictures now?”

“Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

She Peeking peeks over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Evil glare, handing the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“Yellow thing with chains?  Bondage device?”

“Pervert.  Enough egg nog for you.”

“And that giant globe?”

She leaned leans closer, shrugged shrugs.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”  Slaps him.

“Don’t be fresh.”  Slaps him  (just moved it)

“WTF?  Cows don’t have balls.”  Pulling on his red hat, heading out to the sleigh.

……………………………

 Lost count.  Seven?

Nicholas scratches his head, peers at smartphone through half-moon glasses.

“What’s this?” Gruffly.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprays whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“Too lazy to write?  Sending pictures now?”

“Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

She peeks over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Evil glare, handing the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“Yellow thing with chains?  Bondage device?”

“Pervert.  Enough egg nog for you.”

“And that giant globe?”

She leans closer, shrugs.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

Don’t be fresh.”  “Fresh mouth!”  Slaps him (saved a word)

“WTF?  Cows don’t have balls.”  Pulling Pulls on his red hat, heading out to heads (present tense and saved a word) for the sleigh.

……………………..

maybe eight?

Nicholas scratches his head, peers at smartphone through half-moon glasses.

“What’s this?” Gruffly.  Whining.  (wanted him more complaining than angry)

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprays whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“They’re too lazy to write?  Sending pictures now?”

“Twitter.”  Sprinkling cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

She peeks over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Evil glare Glaring, handing the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“Yellow thing with chains?  Perhaps a bondage device?”

Pervert.  Enough egg nog for you.”  “Enough egg nog, pervert.”  (saved two words)

“And that giant globe?”

She leans closer, shrugs.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

“Fresh mouth!”  Slaps him

“WTF?  Cows don’t have balls.” “Bulls have balls, not cows.” (added a word, but clarified too) Pulls on his red hat, heads for the sleigh.

………………………

finished?!

Nicholas scratches his head, peers at smartphone through half-moon glasses.

“What’s this?”  Whining.

“Christmas list 2.0.”  Gertrude sprays whipped cream on hot cocoa.

“Too They’re too lazy to write?  Sending pictures now?”

“Twitter.”  Sprinkles cinnamon.

“What is all this crap?”

She peeks over his shoulder, same glasses.  “Laptop.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Shush.”  Glaring, handing the cocoa.  “Toolbox, tools, bucket.”

“The yellow thing with chains?  A bondage device?”

“Enough egg nog, pervert.”

“And that giant globe?”

She squints, shrugs.  “Cow testicle?”

“Bull.”

“Saint Fresh Mouth!”  Slaps him.

“WTF?  Bulls have balls, not cows.”  Muttering, pulls on his red hat, heads for the sleigh.  Mutters, “Bitch.” “Bitches.”  Stuck here because “bitches” could get confused with all the reindeer.  but “bitches” also makes it sound like santa is complaining about women in general, which is what i specifically want.  tough call.


#fridayfictioneers via rochelle – 11/23

November 22, 2012

I know it’s early, but I don’t know how much computer time I’ll have over the next couple of days, so forgive the early posting.  Seems I’m not the only one though.

Every Wednesday Rigby Wisoff-Fields posts a picture prompt to challenge writers to create a 100-word story or poem or anything that works for you.  Then post your work on your blog.  additionally, on friday, you go back to her site and post a link to your blog entry in the comments on her Friday Fictioneers post.

I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you.  Give it a shot.  I prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way.  Not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.

 

Tombstone

Two boys approached a slab of limestone as others wandered the grounds.

“What’s it say?”

“Doesn’t say anything.  You have to read it.”

“Shut up and read it.  I can’t find my glasses.”

Here’s lies Lefty Grace.

Not even the undertaker could knock the smile off his face.

Never had a bad day except the last one.

Left behind a loving wife, two daughters and a son.

His brother is mad, says Lefty stole his money.

Knows right where he hid it, that’s why he walked funny.

Brutally honest was his only blunder.

That’s what got him six feet under.

__________________________

100 words


#fridayfictioneers via rochelle – 11/16

November 16, 2012

First – Apology for  not reading anyone’s stories last week.  I was on a plane for Mexico at about 7am, and I only had time to post mine and head for the airport.

______________________________

Every Wednesday Ramses Wisoff-Fields posts a picture prompt to challenge writers to create a 100-word story or poem or anything that works for you.  Then post your work on your blog.  additionally, on friday, you go back to her site and post a link to your blog entry in the comments on her Friday Fictioneers post.

I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you.  Give it a shot.  I prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way.  Not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.

 

Your ABC’s

“Wait.  So AAA is better than AA?”

“No.”

“Then why three A’s?”

“It’s smaller.”

“Smaller is better?”

“Sometimes.”

“Isn’t 3 better than 2?”

“Not in golf.”

“If AAA is smaller than AA, then is AA smaller than A?”

“There is no A.”

“Why not?”

“Dunno.”

“Is AA bigger than B?”

“Is no B.”

“Damn.  There a C?”

“Yeah.”

“Are A’s bigger than C’s?”

“Batteries or boobs?”

“Either one.”

“C is bigger in both.”

“You got D’s?”

“Me personally?  No.”

“Is D bigger than C?”

“Bigger, not necessarily better.”

“What’s the best?”

“Lithium.”

“I got a prescription for that.”

“Not surprised.”

__________________________

100 words


#fridayfictioneers 6/22 via madison woods

June 22, 2012

Every Wednesday Madison Woods posts a picture prompt to challenge writers to create a 100-word story or poem or anything that works for you.  then post your work on your blog.  additionally, on friday, you go back to her site and post a link to your blog entry in the comments on her friday fictioneers post.

I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you.  give it a shot.  i prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way.  not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.

For the past few weeks, I had trouble and didn’t come up with something until the last minute.  This week too.  Oh well.

Here’s this week’s picture and my 100 words -

The Bug

“Hey Dave, look at that bug.”

Bug?  You little shit.  Try Zygoptera.  Try Ischnura Elegans.  Can you clock twenty-four miles per hour?  No.  And don’t even try “dragonfly.”  Dragonflies can’t fold their wings back.  I can.  See?  Little bastard.  Who do you think eats those mosquitoes and spiders that freak you out?  Yeah, me.  That’s right douche face.  I can rip a spider right from its web and eat his ass while you’re running for mommy.  Think just any bug gets the nickname “El Caballito del Diablo”?  The Devil’s Horse.  Well, sorta.  Whatta you say now, punk?

(smack) “Got him!”

________________

100 words


#fridayfictioneers 6/15 via madison woods

June 15, 2012

Every Wednesday Madison Woods posts a picture prompt to challenge writers to create a 100-word story or poem or anything that works for you.  then post your work on your blog.  additionally, on friday, you go back to her site and post a link to your blog entry in the comments on her friday fictioneers post.

I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you.  give it a shot.  i prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way.  not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.

For the past few weeks, I seem to have gotten away from the horror thing.  I could have easily gotten nasty with this one, but it felt redundant.  Oh well.

Here’s this week’s picture and my 100 words -

 

Six hours, complete darkness, a cold night.  Two Allied soldiers lay silent, motionless in shrubs aside an uphill trail.  The sun teased the horizon.  Whispers began.

“See anything?”

“No.”

“Captain said find a sign along the trail.”

“Should we go up or down?”

“Dunno.  Wrong way gets us killed.”

“Dammit.”  Head shake.  Neck rub.  “Krauts can be anywhere.”

Eyes widened.  Heads turned alertly.  A bird fluttered from its nest searching for breakfast.

“What’s that?”

“Bird?”

“No.  The white thing on the tree.  Maybe it’s the sign.”

One crawled forward, neck craned, crawled back.

“What’s it say?”

“Made in Japan.”

“Bastards.”

___________________________

100 words

 


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