Experimenting for Cooking Recipes & More Farming – Pumpkin Days – The Th...

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A little bit of peace and quiet at Wahoo Beach:


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Marrietta and the Wreck of the Partying Plesiosaur – A response to Chuck Wendig’s terribleminds blog flash fiction challenge: The Epic Game of Aspects Redux

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Well, this was one very difficult piece to write. I very nearly gave up on it, but I didn’t. It got to 1,300-and-a-bit words and I took a pruning saw to it, but it seems to have come out okay. This thousand-word limit teaches a lot about what can be trimmed and what can’t. Good lessons to apply when writing longer pieces, too. This story is a result of the latest Chuck Wendig terribleminds blog flash fiction challenge: Epic Game of Aspects Redux . Sub-genre randomly rolled was 'fan fiction'; problem was 'family torn apart'; element to include ended up being 'sea monster'. So, like all fanfics, this piece is not endorsed, recognized or sanctioned by the creator of the game on which it's based. Because of my total discomfort about writing something not a hundred percent my own, the only trademarked name used is 'zuleps' and the rest can be tweaked so that it resides wholly in my own world. This story is exactly 1,000 words long, and was ...
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Free Read: Forest Connections

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Today, I managed to settle down and write a response to the latest flash fiction challenge on Chuck Wendig's Terribleminds blog - The Dead Body . There were only two rules: the word limit was 1,000, and the story had to open with a dead body. This is what came out: Forest Connections The body swayed in the trees rocked by storm winds and illuminated by lightning. It was naked, except for the green, leather gloves it wore on both hands—the hands from which it was suspended from the tree. It might have been an attractive body, if there hadn’t been a gaping wound where its stomach should be. Perhaps… but Garamond wasn’t looking at the body, didn’t notice the slender hips or sculpted chest, the beauty of fine-chiselled cheek bones or luxurious fall of hair. Garamond fought his breakfast back into place, swallowed bile, forced his focus to the other trees in the grove, the ground onto which he’d nearly stepped. If it hadn’t been for the crow flying out of the chest cavity...
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