Chuck Windig's flash fiction challenge, this week, was to tell a story using only three sentences....how hard can that be, right? Well, not as easy as it sounds....
Here's my entry:
As Dy’lon crouched behind a solid steel table a beam of energy, strangely resembling musical notes, punched a hole to his right.
Taking a deep breath, he stood, spun, and aimed his glittery, antique Fender Stratocaster…sending a hard stream of musical energy at his foe.
Just as the ancient prophesy said….it’s a long way to the top, if ya wanna rock ‘n roll.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Another 100 word flash fiction challenge....
Once again, Chuck Windig has thrown up (again, no, not as in 'blew chunks') another flash fiction challenge on his blog. This time three words had to be chosen from a list of five:
Enzyme, Ivy, Bishop, Blister, Lollipop.
Here's my entry:
“Don’t tell me he ate it?”
“Oh my God...he did eat it!”
Agent McCabe watched in horror, hissing to himself, as Bishop Tutu crunched into the lollipop.
The lollipop given to him by the “President”.
The lollipop that contained Enzyme X, a deadly pathogen that could wipe out an entire country.
Nothing left to do now, but run. Get to the airport and try to get the hell out of this country before things spread too badly.
How many licks did it take to get to the center of this lollipop?
This time the world may truly never know.
Enzyme, Ivy, Bishop, Blister, Lollipop.
Here's my entry:
“Don’t tell me he ate it?”
“Oh my God...he did eat it!”
Agent McCabe watched in horror, hissing to himself, as Bishop Tutu crunched into the lollipop.
The lollipop given to him by the “President”.
The lollipop that contained Enzyme X, a deadly pathogen that could wipe out an entire country.
Nothing left to do now, but run. Get to the airport and try to get the hell out of this country before things spread too badly.
How many licks did it take to get to the center of this lollipop?
This time the world may truly never know.
Just for the record....
...and, in case anyone was wondering, I -am- writing. I'm not posting said writings because, well, I'm trying to coalesce a bunch of stuff into a novel....of sorts. While I really don't want to give too much away at this point, I can say it has the following:
Wish me luck!
- Time travelling robots
- Masked vigilantes
- Gypsy fortune tellers
- Wealthy socialites
- Movie actors
- Streetwise ex-boxers
Wish me luck!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Lesson learned...
On going back and reading "The Road to Hell ('s kitchen)", parts one and two , I think it taught me a lesson.
Don't do accents. At least, don't try to write accents. I guess it's o.k. to describe an accent, but trying to phonetically put it down is a pain. I looked back and saw quite a few parts of this simple, short, story where I really jacked it up. Imagine if the story were longer.
Or, I had actually went back and edited it better =)
Anyway, lesson learned.
Don't do accents. At least, don't try to write accents. I guess it's o.k. to describe an accent, but trying to phonetically put it down is a pain. I looked back and saw quite a few parts of this simple, short, story where I really jacked it up. Imagine if the story were longer.
Or, I had actually went back and edited it better =)
Anyway, lesson learned.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
100 Word Flash Fiction Challenge....
I've started following author (and self professed "penmonkey") Chuck Wendig on Google+ as well as over on his blog. Recently, he threw up (no, I don't mean as in 'blew chunks') a 100 word flash fiction challenge....a tale of revenge...and here's my entry.
The Brownian Kill Unit's optical sensors recorded everything for the records, sending it down the time thread. The micro-pulse beam, literally, cooked Von Braun from the inside. The sound of wet flesh hitting the ground was followed by the clink of a monocle. The symbol of another infamous criminal scientist shattered.
Von Braun had slagged more of his kind, over the years, than he could count. Now, it was over. Now, maybe, it might have never happened. Time travel was funny that way.
His last thought, as he faded from existence, was that “Braun” sounded very much like....Brown.
The Brownian Kill Unit's optical sensors recorded everything for the records, sending it down the time thread. The micro-pulse beam, literally, cooked Von Braun from the inside. The sound of wet flesh hitting the ground was followed by the clink of a monocle. The symbol of another infamous criminal scientist shattered.
Von Braun had slagged more of his kind, over the years, than he could count. Now, it was over. Now, maybe, it might have never happened. Time travel was funny that way.
His last thought, as he faded from existence, was that “Braun” sounded very much like....Brown.
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