Writer Wednesday - Flash Fiction Inspiration in Images

Here's another installation of images that can be used as inspiration for writing flash fiction. Today's concentration is on futuristic and fantasy landscapes. Hope you enjoy!





Anamnesis of Estivation by Alexiuss




Future City






Cloudcity by Aksu

 


Halcyon Falls by Alexiuss


Share your favorite landscapes, especially futuristic and fantasy.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - Protector

image credit: Gild_a_Lily

The pain took my breath away and doubled me over. I shut my eyes tight against the onslaught of the sensations. The magic swirled around me, tight and potent. Gasping for air, I came to my knees and felt tears making a wet path down my face. I knew people I loved were around me, within a single touch, but I have never felt more alone. The feeling of loneliness almost made me choke and I swallowed hard but tears wouldn't stop coming.
"Don't fight it," I heard someone say. The voice was close but it would take more strength than I had to focus and recognize it. Didn't matter whose voice it was, anyway. "Let it take you. Ride every feeling and every emotion. Let them make you stronger."
I let go and collapsed. Never have I felt such sadness, such anguish, such loneliness. Never would I want to feel them again. When I thought I could take no more, calm descended. The tears still flowed freely but I felt calm and sure. Magic ran through my veins, strong and intoxicating. I felt like I was floating. I slowly opened my eyes. My mother stood above me, my people surrounded us within a circle.
"You have been born once more into this world," my mother said. "You now possess the magic of all of our people." She helped me up off the ground. "You rise a true queen. Use your magic to protect your people."
She turned towards the people.
"I give you your Queen Protector," she announced with voice that rang out like a bell of the purest sound.
I became who I was meant to be. And my mission was just beginning.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - The Decision

Derek slowly raised the gun in his hand and fired at the target. Once, twice, three times. The shots were ringing out faster, sharper. Derek’s face was calm, collected but Livia knew better. His close friend was just murdered, in cold blood, and Derek wasn’t pulling any punches to find and bring the killer to justice. His way. Not that Livia wouldn’t do the same.

Living in a world changed forever by the crash of the civilized society tended to change ones views on justice as well. Derek, the leader of their survivalist group and Livia’s lover, raised his eyes once the last bullet hit the target’s bulls eye. There was not a hint of doubt in them, only will.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Livia touched his arm. “This kid is probably not out of his teen years yet.”

Derek pulled away as if electrocuted by her touch. Livia’s eyes darkened with hurt.

“It’s us against them, Livia.” Derek sounded tired. He sighed. “This kid, as you call him, killed a man not to protect himself, not to protect his family. He did it for fun, Livia. We can’t allow people like that to walk the world. Next, it might be you they hunt for fun.”

He touched her stomach gently, still soft but visibly growing. “We have to make a better world for us now. At the very least, we need to survive and give our child a chance.”

Livia looked away, and then back at her stomach. Everything Derek said was true. But she knew the consequences. He was a good man. Killing a kid will haunt him. He should not have this on his consciousness, she thought as she reached up and kissed him tenderly. She could not let him do that.

           Livia left Derek at his target practice, throwing a quick glance behind her. His consciousness would remain clear. Hers could take a few hits. She pulled a gun from her backpack and walked into the night.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - Writer Campaign 2nd Challenge and General Updates

Please check out the flash fiction written earlier this week for the Writer's Campaign 2nd challenge here.

Meanwhile, I thought I'd update you on my projects, etc..

I've joined the WIP March Madness and listed my goals as follows:

1) Write for half an hour every night, even after karate training, no matter how tired.
So far I've been able to do this for about half of the March days that passed. Working on making it an
every day thing.
2) Write during lunch (that is when my work load allows me to take a full lunch, which lately it doesn't
always).
So far I've used three of my lunches during March to write, which is better than in the previous few moths.
3) Write and schedule blog posts the day before.
I've been fairly successful in doing this, although there were a couple of blogs in the past two weeks that I wrote the day of.

In other news:
1) I have submitted one of my flash fiction stories to a contest.
2) I am completely re-working my WIP and will probably end up scrapping that 4 chapters I already wrote and re-writing them. Right now I'm doing a lot of brainstorming and putting ideas on paper so I can then review all of the ideas and chose the best.
3) Started hashing out ideas of a "secret project" with my writing partner Tina Moss.

This is for my writing partner, Tina Moss, because she has a corgi :)

And just to make March more interesting, I'm training hard to test for my 2nd degree black belt in the near future. Yep, March is going to be fun.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - Leapling

 

I’m a “leapling”. I was born on leap day. I got my powers on leap day. I was prophesied to die on leap day. 

Would today be that day? I thought as the children of the night pressed around me. 

I hailed from a family of powerful witches who had control over other supernatural beings. Yeah, we weren’t the most popular lot, until people wanted our help, of course. But my power was the strongest yet, being the prophesied “leapling witch”, and all that. I had the power to make vampires mortal. You’d think that all vampires would hate this particular talent of mine, but you’d be surprised how many came to me seeking to regain their mortality. Still, the majority wanted to see me dead. I have been under special protection all of my life, until I got so fed up with it that I slipped my bodyguards. Hey, sometimes a girl wants to play and be free.

Of course, I wasn’t counting on the biggest vampire clan in the city to find me within an hour of my brilliant escape. And now, the creepy immortals surrounded me on all sides in a dark alley, their silence and slow movement more terrifying than anything else they could have done.

"Nice going", I muttered and squeezed my fists in preparation to raising protective energy.

Before I could raise my hands, a man walked in front of the rest. He was tall and beautiful. I may have been sheltered but I could appreciate a gorgeous male specimen.

“Don’t be afraid, Talia,” he said. “We need your help. Agree to work with us, and we’ll return you safely to your family.”

We stared into each others eyes, and I felt like I was drowning. In a bizarrely pleasant way.

I nodded my agreement. As if I could refuse. No, this will not be the leap day I die.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - First Writer Campaign Challenge and Guest Announcement

Today I won't be able to bring you a new flash fiction but please visit the flash fiction post I wrote on Monday for the First Writer Campaign Challenge. You can find the post here. Please vote for the entry if you liked it (you'll find the link to the voting page within that post).

On another note, I'm very excited to announce that the amazing Heather McCorkle will be stopping by for an interview next Thursday, March 1st - just one of the stops on her Channeler's Choice tour! 
Don't forget to visit and read the interview!

What is Flash Fiction?

Today, instead of posting a flash fiction story, I wanted to talk about what flash fiction is and what are its rules.

Flash fiction is a style of fiction writing which is identified by its brevity. Beyond the agreement that flash fiction is shorter than a short story, there's no consistency on its length. It can be anywhere from 150-200 words to over a thousand, although mostly it's under one thousand.

I like to find my own prompts - whether a picture or an idea that inspires me. However, there are a lot of pre-made prompts on-line that writers can use to inspire their flash fiction. A few of the ones that I like are:

Flash Fiction Net - gives you a list of various sites with all kinds of interesting prompts
Flash Fiction 365 - A list of prompts, as well as links to the flash fiction submissions written using those prompts
Flash Fiction - provides a new prompt every 15 days and also lets you read the submissions

There are not many rules for writing flash fiction. There are a few sub-groups of flash fiction that require an exact amount of words, as well as particular parameters to the story. For example, nanofiction is exactly 55 word and has to contain an understandable plot and at least one character. Drabble has to be exactly 100 words.

Many writers, including myself, prefer to write flash fiction that contains some type of a twist at the end. Since one has only a very short amount of words in which to tell a certain story, as in the art of short story telling, it is imperative to only include action and facts imperative to the essence of the flash.  There's no time to develop characters or do too much of scene setting. You want to keep the readers guessing for the duration of the story about what this is all about. Until you hit them with the punchline - the twist.

Keep in mind that in flash fiction, even the title should have meaning and pack a punch. It should be part of the story.

A few questions:

Have you ever written flash fiction?
Do you like to write flash fiction? Do you find it a useful exercise for your other writing?
What advice would you give to those just starting out in flash fiction writing?
What was your favorite flash fiction prompt?

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - The Reunion

Sweat covered my body as I looked around. The unforgivable sun beat down on my head and made the next breath feel scorching inside my nose and mouth. How will this meeting go? That was the only question on my mind. My steps fell on the faded dry grassland. I’ve given years of my life to them. Will they know me? Or will they attack?

Something moved in my peripheral view, in the shadow of the lonely tree. Or someone, perhaps.

“Maybe we should go,” Lilly whispered at my side. I put a calming hand on her shoulder and smiled.

“You can’t show them fear, Lilly,” I told her. “You have to trust.”

I couldn’t blame her for being nervous. After all, she hasn’t been doing this as long as I have. Then again, I didn’t know if that would matter much in the long run. Maybe I was nuts to seek them out. But I had to. This was the culmination of so many dreams and hopes.

If they don’t recognize me, they might kill me. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought Lilly along. But she was so excited to be out here with me.

“I need to see this,” she told me.

Another noise had us jump and look around. My breath caught. There they were, coming towards us. This was the moment of truth.

They stopped and sniffed the air. I felt Lilly squeeze my hand. Then they started running, racing towards us. This is it.

The two lionesses that I raised as cubs approached fast. I stood my ground. When they came nearer, they both roared and ran into my arms. They hugged me and licked my face like puppies who haven’t seen their owner for the whole day. These magnificent animals remembered me, and the culmination of my work was just as I imagined it. Tears slid down my face, mingling with laughter, as Lilly recorded our reunion.

Vote For Flash Fiction Post You Like Most

 Today, I need your input on which flash fiction post so far you have enjoyed the most. Your participation in this poll is greatly appreciated.

You can find the flash fiction posts here:

Tango

The Tiger

The Road Not Taken

The Sole Survivor

The Museum

The Sword

Which Flash Fiction Do You Like The Most

More Pictures That Inspire Me

Unfortunately, I have to suspend my Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction feature for today. My hubby was in a hospital for a couple of days with chest pressure. He is ok, his heart checked out completely ok but he's still not feeling well, so now we have to figure out why. So my head has not been in writing the last few days.
Instead, I would like to post more pictures that inspire me - and maybe they will give you inspiration as well.
Flash Fiction will return next week as scheduled.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - The Sword

The inspiration for this week's Flash Fiction came from watching and reading a lot of historical fiction lately. Especially about one period in history (which I will let you guess from the story below).

The Sword

 The Sword is rushing towards my neck. I don't see it but I know. It makes a low whistling sound as it descends, rushing to take my life away with one clean cut.

My daughter. My little girl. My Elizabeth. What will become of her now? She is the most precious thing in this world to me. I hope the world would treasure her the way I did. But the world is cruel. As cruel as her father, the king.

I loved him. I loved him with all my heart and soul. I still do. That is perhaps the cruelest thing of all. All I wanted was to have him all to myself. A woman's heart can bleed with a thousand wounds that nobody would ever see or know. But he gave me Elizabeth and for that I will forgive him everything. For that, I will even wish him happiness.

The Sword is getting ever nearer. I hear my women wailing. I hear the roar of the crowd come to watch their queen die. They never liked me. They never understood me. I could have been better. I could have been stronger. I could have been more sensitive to them. But I am what I am and I hope that they will forgive me, in time. I hope that Lord will forgive me and show me mercy.

Mercy is the last word I hear before the Sword reaches my neck. Before the world goes dark. Mercy. And Elizabeth. My heart fills with strange warmth as the name of my daughter rings in my ears. Then darkness descends.

I jerk upright, sitting up, my heart beating triple time.

"Welcome back," says the man across from me, smiling gently. Recognition rushes back at me. This man is the therapist who specializes in past life regression. Today is my appointment with him. I blink rapidly to clear my eyes of the remaining images of...what?

"Looks like you were Anne Boleyn in one of your previous lives," he says, not a hint of humor in his words. "We'll build your therapy from this memory. There's much that troubles you."

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - The Museum

The Museum

The night was abuzz with life around me in the city that never sleeps. The honking of hundreds of yellow cabs and thousands of tourists still milling around should have made me more relaxed but my heart was pumping double time. I always wanted to do this. I had to do this. A deep breath later and feeling a bit calmer, I began to ascend the great staircase towards the entrance. The Metropolitan Museum of Art towered majestically above me. I stopped in front of the large doors and looked at the key in my hand. A friend working in the museum got me this key. I shouldn’t be here. I was about to trespass. But I had to do it. Once in my life I had to be inside the empty museum after dark. I had to know if the feeling I had when I was a child was real. I had to know if everything inside came to life when no humans were present.
I walked left to the small staff entrance door and turned the key in the lock. As soon as I entered, I disabled the alarm as my friend taught me. The sounds from outside muted to an almost silence as the door closed behind me. This was it.
I took out my flashlight, although I could see dim lighting in some places, and walked into the belly of the building. Silence was complete here. Men and women on Rembrandt’s and Titian’s paintings stared down at me, watching me, waiting to see how I would disturb their peace. Roden’s Eternal Kiss marble lovers were locked in their eternal embrace. The gods of Egypt seemed to whisper and reach out to me. But it was only my imagination. No movement or sound penetrated this sacred space – the sacred space of masters and geniuses and their creations.

Eternal Kiss by Rodin

I smiled to myself. Nobody came to life like in my silly childhood dreams. I turned to go. And saw a woman in a beautiful 17th century gown. She put her finger to her red plump lips in a sign of silence and then beckoned me to her. As if enthralled, I felt myself drawing nearer. The woman's eyes twinkled as she leaned over to me and whispered into my ear.
“Are you sure you want to know our secrets?”
Her smile was stunning and enigmatic. And suddenly I had a feeling I will never leave this museum.

Writer Wednesday - Flash Fiction suspended for the holidays

Because of the workload I have right now at my day job, at he dojo on top of holiday stuff and, trying to stay on top of WIPs, I will be suspending Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction feature until early January. I promise that it will come back with flourish early next year though.
For now, take a peak at my previous flash fiction: The Tango, The Tiger, The Road Not Taken and Sole Survivor.

I will be posting my writing goals for the next year (and my methods of achieving them) by the end of the week.

Writer Wednesday Flash Fiction - Sole Survivor

I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how long I was unconscious. All I know is that I woke up all alone in the smoldering world. I tried to breathe in deeply and was punished with thick black smoke going up my nose and into my mouth, choking me. I tried to cough it out but it was everywhere. I blinked my eyes a few times and my vision finally adjusted enough to make out gray shapes all around me. Thick boulders and concrete beams lay in heaps and I realized with horror that one of those beams lay across my lower body. I tried to move, expecting pain. But all I could feel was chilly numbness. I could not feel my legs. Terror twined its icy tentacles around my heart.

I tried calling out but my throat was dry and all that came out was a horse squeak. Blackness wrapped me up once more. Something tugged at me as I slowly came back to. I heard a low growl and saw a large brown dog standing over me. It was doing something with my legs. The dog was a giant; I’ve never seen such an animal before.

Was he chewing on me?

“No, get away!” I yelled. Or at least I thought I yelled. A whisper was more like it.

The dog turned its yellow eyes on me and I thought it smiled. I was having hallucinations.

I must have blanked out again.

When I opened my eyes, there were two men with axes. They raised them over my head. They were going to chop me to pieces. I shut down.

The next time I woke up, the dog and the men with the axes were gone. I was lying on the grass outside of the ruined building and the sunshine produced black spots in front of my eyes. A kindly face of a middle-aged man in firefighter uniform leaned over me, gently soothing my horror.

“There was an explosion in your building,” he said when I gave him a questioning look – I still couldn’t talk. “You were the only survivor. And you will be ok.”