The ocean-liner featured a first-class, saltwater swimming pool, heated via nearby boilers.
Knowing women may not be welcome to dive in, she purchased the latest swimming costume anyway.
But April 14th came all too soon. Sadly, only men, poor women and children took the saltwater plunge.
None wore swimming suits.
Nothing could hide it. Not her perfect page-boy or her expensive dresses. My friend said the roof of her mouth was missing. That’s why she drooled all over herself. That’s why we couldn’t understand anything she said.
Not that she talked to us.
But we didn’t talk to her either.
“You’re stealing the old clock?”
“Quiet, or I’ll have you written out faster than you can say Helen Corning.”
“What kind of chum are you?”
“One who doesn’t need a namby-pamby whiner hampering my mystery-solving abilities!”
“Ahhhhh, you’re the 1930’s sassy Nancy, NOT 1959’s fancy Nancy! SO glad to meet you!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Post Note: NaBloPoMo posts a daily prompt to ignite bloggers’ imaginations. I decided to respond to today’s prompt – “Which character would you most like to meet?” by working it into my 50-word piece of fiction.
N.D. ~ 1930
Note: Penny, over at WIDELY UNREAD, introduced an interesting writing exercise from 3 A.M. EPIPHANY that challenges writers to create a scene using imperative commands. Penny’s example is 500 words as suggested by author Brian Kitely. I decided to accept this challenge today using the 50-word limit! Let’s see how this works.
Morning Glory
Meet Chelsea at the parlor on Main. Watch Raul open new needles and check latex gloves for pinholes.
Don’t be brave; let Chelsea go first.
Breathe; the stings WILL stop.
Admire Raul’s handiwork, hidden so Mom won’t see.
Dream that night of spreading vines.
Awaken to a nightmare come true.
The two giggled as they struggled to slip pajamas onto uncooperative 18-inch dolls. Joy reigned until both grabbed for the flannel mini-robe.
“It’s mine!”
“No! Gramma gave it to me.”
Tears.
“They usually play well together.” The care-giver observed.
“Sisters?” asked her new assistant.
“Mother and daughter. Eighty-eight and sixty-nine.”
Note: Because I have absolutely NO challenges in my life, and because I have little to do, I decided to bring on some craziness as I am SO sane and all. To jazz up my days, my writing, and my attempt to stave off Alzheimers, I registered with NaBloPoMo AGAIN. How could I not? The theme is FICTION!
To place time constraints on this project, I decided to play around with 50-word Fiction/Stories. I may scrimp on the word-count, but hopefully not on creativity. Let me know what you think. About the stories; NOT my mental condition.
Why didn’t I take Family Home Evenings seriously? Especially nights when Mom
72-Hour Kit ~ aka Bug-Out or Blow-Out Bags
produced giant garbage bags and begged us to organize 72-hour kits.
B-O-R-I-N-G.
I thought Mormons did this for “fun.” And to prepare for IMPROBABLE catastrophes.
Wrong-o.
I didn’t know about the Zombie Apocalypse. Why didn’t Mom mention that?
SOME things never change. Mom still can't drive a van.
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks helping the Utah State Office of Education roll out the Common Core State Standards to some 5000 teachers throughout the state. Scores of facilitators have traveled the state to educate educators about the core and to share teaching strategies as well. While we’ve been sharing lots of lesson ideas, my FAVORITE is the 6-word memoir. They are fun to write and interesting to read.
Photo Courtesy of Flickr
Legend has it that someone pressed Ernest Hemingway to write a novel using only 6 words – an appropriate request for the king of minimalism who didn’t disappoint. His creation tells a story of loss and heartbreak.
The first time I remember reading 6-word memoirs was when I qualified for AARP membership and received the organizations magazine for geezers. Some made me chuckle; some made me think; and some, like Hemingway’s, made me reach for the Kleenex or the toilet paper, depending on where I was perusing the column.
It takes some thought to sum up an experience in 6 words, but tweeting on Twitter is good practice because the writer has to weigh every word, and if one is a light-weight, out it goes. I noticed that most mini-memoirists keeps playing around with the words until the statement feels “just right.” Sometimes that happens in a matter of minutes and sometimes it takes a matter of … minutes. (I don’t know of many writers from our classes who pulled an all-nighter trying to exact 6 perfect words.)
Some writers created HUMOROUS mini-memoirs like this one:
Others are TENDER:
Many are just REALISTIC:
PROFOUND:
SCARY:
WISTFUL:
HEART-RENDING:
LONGING:
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In Parting: One sweet teacher told me that writing and sharing the memoir was even therapeutic as she reflected upon a recent hiking accident where she and her grandson tumbled some 50 feet down a trail. It was a frightening and painful experience that ended miraculously.
I feel blessed that during this past month I met some wonderful people and learned that even something as simple as this little exercise provided a way to build communities of new friends.
P.S. Wondering if I created a 6-word memoir? Yes, I did. But before I share, I invite YOU to comment with YOUR mini-memoir!
So here’s my attempt. I wrote a couple to make a simple comparison of two lives a couple of generations apart.
My grandmother’s memoir: “Raised 13 children during Great Depression.”
My memoir: “Raised 4 boys; suffered great depression.”
Note to sons: You know I am kidding! Raising you 4 was the adventure of a life time! Love you!
Writer's BootCamp D.I. (Drill Instructor) Ann Cannon
I went off to WRITING CAMP; draft, write, draft.
I worked till hands and brain were cramped; draft, write, draft.
I critiqued all day with writing buddies; draft, write, draft.
I revised the parts that were cruddy; draft, write, draft.
We listened well to our D.I.; draft, write, draft.
Yell “PUBLISH IT or you will DIE;” draft, write, draft.
Now that we are all encouraged; draft, write, draft.
Our careers will surely flourish; DRAFT, WRITE, DRAFT!
I’ve been working on this ridiculous chant for nearly a week. It wasn’t getting any better and so I decided to publish the darn thing so I could concentrate on some SERIOUS writing. BUT this had to be said. My week with Ann and the other boot camp participants was such a great experience. I promise to share more details later, but right now, I just want to say that Carol Lynch Williams chairs the best Young Adult writers conference in the nation. YES, I said NATION.
And did I mention the break-out sessions with participating authors? I was NOT disappointed in a single one – must say Louise Plummer’s love affair with Stephen King’s MISERY was a highlight. This woman loves GORE. Her unique analysis of how the King of Horror builds suspense was entertaining as well as helpful.
Got to call it a night but not before I tackle my manuscript.
Thank you, Flickr, for this foto!
You know how you hear a word for the first time, and then flood gates open and you hear it again and again and again? For example, I remember the first time I “saw” the word “akimbo” – as in “she stood there with her arms akimbo.” It means she stood there with her hands on her hips. Guess that description was too blasé for Harper Lee, so she introduced me – and probably many other readers who poured over To Kill a Mockingbird – to that most unusual word.
I thought it sounded like a character’s name from Roots: Akimbo Kinte, son or daughter of Kunta???? There were not enough context clues to help me figure it out, and so I looked it up in a dictionary – this was before mass Internet. And, as often happens, the word started popping up all over the place. My favorite discovery occurred on the trip home from St. George one summer. We passed a truck hauling a sail boat and as we zipped by I noticed the vessel’s name plastered on the side: AKIMBO! Perfect name for a sailboat, don’t you think?
My latest addition to my vocabulary is SCRUM. Not being a follower of Rugby, I had NEVER heard this weird word. But on Friday evening at Joe’s pinning – NEVER heard of an MBA pinning either – the dean of the college asked the grads to “scrum” forward to pose for a class picture.
“Scrum”???? Like “scrum of the earth?” I guess that would work if the “scum bag” was also a “rummy.” But then would it be “scrummy?” No. The dean used it as a verb. Luckily, my daughter-in-law attended Highland High School – not MY Highland High in Pocatello, ID, but SLC’s HHS, where Rugby reins supreme. She clarified the term for me even though the dean used enough context clues that I was able to figure it out.
Obviously, SCRUM is a Westminster College favorite because the graduation speaker weaved it into his comments the following day, which accounted for the second time I heard the word.
The 3rd repetition was a surprise. Just minutes into Pirates of the Caribbean 4, viewers are introduced to a singing pirate named – yup, SCRUM. How he came by that moniker, I don’t know as there is very little written about the mate.
BUT, I’ll wager that he is one of them lovable RUM-swillin’ ScumBags!
Oh, and see you soon – but NOT tomorrow! 😉
Dad dressed like this while serving as a Top Turret Gunner in a "Flying Fortress.
When I was young I thought Memorial Day or Decoration Day – as it was also called – was set aside to honor ALL whohad departed. And Americans do that, but I did not realize it is primarily a day to remember those servicemen who are no longer with those they fought for. While we attended the grave sites of both my father’s and G.E.’s, I thought of the time a few years ago when we learned more about my Dad’s’ war by visiting the Mighty 8th Air Force Heritage Museum near Savannah, Georgia. It was a great experience for us both, and the biggest thrill was finding Dad’s name carved on the long veteran’s wall.
Here is just a taste from that day of learning and thanksgiving.
The Mighty 8th Air Force Heritage Museum 2003
The 379th Bomber Group
What they all fought for - PEACE!
G.E. points to Daddy's name on the Veteran's Wall
My hero!
Writing My Life 