Writing My Life

Now and Then

Leave a comment

… final 50-word fiction or NOT: Kakistocracy …

Today’s WordPress prompt was another perfect fit for the NaBloPoMo’s August theme, Fiction.

“Find a word you don’t know, but like, and use it in a short, paragraph length, story, or a clever sentence.” So here ’tis my effort. Kind of a somber way to end 31 days straight of blogging! WheW!


The commentary turned into a prophecy fulfilled.

The BEST shunned public service because of its position at the back of a bus driven by politics.

No one without a personal agenda entered the arena.

The populous surmised that there were no choices.

So why bother?

Results: The WORST of us govern.

Leave a comment

… stream-of-conscious 50-word fiction: “The Shadow Knows”

I’ve awakened to see shadows rummaging through boxes stacked throughout the room but I don’t move or breathe for fear the figures will materialize into something solid and sinister and I pray my lump of flesh and bones curled up here in this corner will disappear into a sinister shadow.

Leave a comment

… 50-words to tell a story: Between the Rock and the Hardplace …

“Your mother is a selfish witch!” HE said.

“Your father is an egotistical brute!” SHE said.

“What’s the matter, Son?” HE asked.

“What’s the matter, Son?” SHE asked.

“Who’s right and who’s wrong?” Son answered.

“I’M RIGHT!” HE said.

“HE’S WRONG!” SHE said.

“Then how can I choose?” Son asked.

Leave a comment

… 50-words to tell a contemporary story … Booked Up …

My head banged down on the table. (Should have used my fist.)

“We’ll die minutes after we can afford to go,” I said. “-  happens all the time.”

His sympathetic smile patted my hand.

Losing myself in books can only take me so far. Time to see what “they’re” writing about!


… fantasy in 50 words: The Big Bubble Theory …

How many are created?

Don’t know.

Some collapse or burst upon creation. Only a fraction survive to contain and sustain life.

Who's in there?????

Wise Ones claim another world collided with ours – merging rather than destroying. A miracle, they say.

Still we hesitate to explore this conjoined sphere where sprites or pixies may hide.


… dystopian fiction in 50-words: AZAZEL

Azazel always carried it but hoped she’d never use it.

Thunderstorms  usually kept the androgynous SHE-MEN in their hostels, and so she risked the venture.

But these cloned beings thought she was the last, and they were waiting.

For us, Azazel pulled the pin; keeping our secret safe. For now.

1 Comment

… visual stories …

When I write one of my mini-stories, I don’t feel that it’s finished until I find a photo or art work to include with it. So I spend another hour or so searching Flickr or other resources to find something that fits – sometimes perfectly and sometimes “not so much.”

Tonight I thought I’d start with the art work and then write the story. I’ve played around with a variety of genres – from historical fiction to paranormal parody to science fiction – and now I’d like to dip into dystopia. With that in mind, I want to introduce you to the work of digital painter Marek Okon.

Here is what he says about where he gets his inspiration:

When its a book cover, inspiration comes from the story I’m reading. During reading I see all the scenes in my imagination and then I pick one that will fit the cover best, one that will draw attention of the people passing by this book. When its personal works I usually create my own little story around the picture, so every piece of equipment presented, every location and character has its part in the world presented. I rarely go and create something accidental.

I hope Marek doesn’t mind if I “create my own little story around” one of his pictures. I haven’t decided which of the two I’ve included here, but return tomorrow and see what I come up with.

I also invite YOU to try your hand at this as well. Choose a picture as inspiration for your own 50-worder, and share it with me. Please.

Til tomorrow, caio.

1 Comment

… 50-word paranormal: Dental Hyjinx …

He fooled others. Not me. I knew who and what he was.

If simplicity in my hair, makeup, and style failed to catch his attention, my A-negative blood-scent would not.

Finally, he sunk his ivory fangs into my alabaster neck.

I winced …

then gasped.

He fled.

Leaving his canines behind.


… 50-word wonders: I WONDER Why I’m Still Doing This …

Note: The month is nearly half over, and I’ve written a 50-word story EVERY August day. There’s much I like about experimenting with this format, BUT I don’t know if the exercise is improving my writing any. I guess I’ll see when I return to  my “work-in-progress.” 

I’m toying with the idea of sponsoring my FIRST-EVER blog contest, but have to come up with a creative AND cheap prize that readers would actually want.  Maybe I’ll ask those who stop by my site to vote for the 50-worder they like best, and then randomly choose one of the “entries” as the winner, winner, winner. That’s as far as my thinking has traveled. Stay tuned. I’ll think of something. In the meantime, here is today’s effort. 


She tapped out her text – meet u @ mall,  k?

The other hand applied lip-liner; and her baby-blues stared into the mirror to oversee the application.

Bright-white teeth chewed the last bite of Egg McMuffin.

Knees steered the wheel, and her left foot slammed on the brake.

Too late.

Leave a comment

… 50-word fiction: Las Vegas 2015…

Sixty-plus huddled in the boxcar; children, too tired and hungry to ask, “Are we there yet?”

Their parents prayed.

The train finally slowed to a crawl, and the families jumped off. All lumbered east towards abandoned houses silhouetted against the rising desert sun.

Shelter and ancient artesian wells fueled their hopes.

Las Vegas means "The Meadow"