1. What is the best piece of writing advice you’ve been given?
I can't remember who told me to turn off my internal editor for the first draft and just WRITE, but I love him/her. It means I finish stories instead of deleting the words as soon as I type them. I need time away from a story in order to see it clearly when I start hacking away at the parts that don't fit.
2. The first and last books you fell in love with?
The first book was probably Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren. I remember going crazy over that one. As a kid, I spent quite a bit of time trying to make my pigtails stick out and trying to lift a horse. Never worked. :( The last book was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.
3. What's happening outside the nearest window?
Not a lot, aside from a bunch of pigeons picking at a sandwich. And the sunset.
4. If you could delete one word from the English language, which one would it be?
"Folds" when describing female genitalia. DELETED (I clearly read too much fic).
5. Suppose you could travel to any place in time and history. When and where are you going?
Oh, gosh. I don't know! Would I be impervious to disease in this scenario? If not, would I at least have the opportunity to get vaccines before I left the present? I would worry about dying of smallpox or something. Would I have to be concerned about changing history and messing up the present while I'm there? Could I kill Hitler? Am I over-thinking this? Hmm. If changing the past isn't allowed and I might find myself at the mercy of the doctors in whatever time I choose, then maybe... 1996. I was 14 then, and I read once that the music you loved when you were that age is the music that leaves you feeling the most nostalgic when you hear it as an adult (that might be utter crap, but I think it's probably true for me). I would go see all of the bands I loved back then and bask in the '90s-ness of it all. And then, if it was allowed, I'd find a way to tell my teenage self, "Hey, I promise it gets better."
And now ...
Here's what Bedelia had to say about the entries ...
Ooh, such pretty words. I love how everyone incorporated the prompt in ways I didn't expect. So much so that I joked on Twitter about naming one first place entry and sixteen honorable mentions. ;)
Eeeeee. This is difficult. I've never judged anything like this before. Okay. I can make a decision. Yes.
*drumroll*
FIRST PLACE ... @HUMMINGBIRDFF!
I kept coming back to this one again and again. Author. AUTHOR. If I knew your name I would call you by your first and middle, just so you knew you were in trouble for hurting my heart. Except you aren't in trouble, really. This was so simple and beautiful, and I love your interpretation of "moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life."
Eyes open.
The early morning light makes the dust motes flicker across the sheets.
Eyes close.
Eyes open.
The phone rings faintly somewhere in the living room, but I don’t get out of bed.
Eyes close.
Eyes open.
I see you through the bathroom doorway. You’re shaving. Your eyes catch mine in the mirror, so you give me a crooked smile and a wink.
Eyes close.
Eyes open.
You toss the damp towel towards the laundry basket, but it lands on the floor.
Eyes close.
Eyes open.
You’re putting on a crisp, white button-up with that ridiculous tie I got you for Christmas. It always makes me giggle. My breath hitches.
Eyes close.
Eyes open.
You tie your shoelaces with your foot propped up on my favourite chair. Your only response to my stern glare is to blow me a kiss.
Eyes close.
Eyes open.
You button your cuffs as you walk towards the bed to kiss me goodbye.
Eyes close.
I hold my breath. Waiting. My kiss never comes.
Eyes open.
The room is empty. No towel on the floor. No shoe impression on the chair.
The lone, black dress hanging against our dresser mocks my memories.
Eyes close.
SECOND PLACE ... @KATIEWINKLES
I could feel and hear and see everything in this one. The author managed to fit so much into so few words. Just lovely.
The tines of a fork.
Soapy water and wrinkled, pink fingers.
A plate; the sponge around, around, the front, the back.
Rinse.
The orange glow of dwindling sun shines bright through the kitchen window, rays of golden yellow casting shapes across the countertop.
A coffee cup; inside, outside, the lipstick from the rim.
The minutes feel like hours, one slipping slowly into the next, and the next, like the drip, drip, drip of a leaky tap.
Soap suds hiss and crackle beneath my fingers.
Another plate; the sponge around, around, the front, the back.
Rinse.
A memory of soft white silk and crisp black cuffs drifts into my mind making me sigh. I think of love-lit eyes and smile-sore cheeks; the sound of the tinkling of silverware against a champagne glass, the feel of lips against mine, smiling through a kiss.
An entire lifetime of love promised in just one day.
A blink of an eye and that day is over, and the promise begins to take shape.
Car keys against the countertop.
Lips against my bare shoulder, long fingers brush my arm softly.
“Long day?”
I smile, turning my head as his lips warm my cheek.
“Mm-hm. Too long.”
HONOURABLE MENTION ... @CALLMEPAGLIACCI
Another one I kept coming back to. The snapshots of life were beautifully done. And characterization in just 200 words! "He doesn't tell me he loves me anyway." I feel like I know the dad, just from that.
It was a bright, blue-sky day. I was driving to the store to get my wife some pickles. I thought it was just a stereotype, pregnant women and pickles. I made a left turn and saw it.
It’s my first Little League game. I catch a long fly ball and give it to my mom in the stands. She smiles, and I feel like I won the game.
I’m thirteen. I get lost in the woods on a hike, and shiver through the night.
I’m kissing Julie Christiansen at junior prom. She lets me touch her boobs in the backseat of my dad’s car.
I’m failing O-Chem. I tell my father I don’t want to be a doctor. He doesn’t tell me he loves me anyway.
A freshman in ENG2102 snarks the professor, and I ask her for coffee. We date. We fall in love. She walks towards me in shimmering white. We make love. It’s glorious.
We’re watching her first sonogram. That peanut is our baby. Our baby. Its little heart goes thrum-thrum-thrum. I whisper ‘I love you’ over and over to my wife’s belly.
I made a left turn and saw it. A semi slams into my car.
CONGRATULATIONS @HUMMINGBIRDFF!
I look forward to seeing the prompt you choose for next week's #fanficflashfic.
Thank you to Bedelia for judging, and to everyone who participated!
See you next week.
No comments:
Post a Comment