A Surge of Despair – Sunday Photo Fiction – 09/10/17

 

 

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Baskins found himself in a perpetual conflict. On the one hand he knew the reality, but in his heart he hoped for mercy. Living in Florida provided him with great weather almost the entire year. Sun, fun and easy living were the main draws when he pinpointed the Sunshine State as his home.

But with any good there is just a large a potential for bad. A Category 4 hurricane was beyond bad, it was catastrophic. Especially when the room you rented with all your earthly possessions was barely four feet above the flood plain. More than once heavy rainstorms triggered his concern, but so far none had been a serious threat.

This time the threat was a solid promise. With the addition of the high tide the surge would be 6-9 feet, easily consuming his Fortress of Solitude. If her were Superman he could have executed some kind of dazzling deflection of the storm, but he was a humble janitor and all he could do was wait patiently to put his skills to work cleaning up the aftermath.

Sunday Photo Fiction – 9-10-17

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The Nowhere Trail – Friday Fictioneers – 09-08-17

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Sophie Marcus’ detective mind worked every possible angle, but even she could not reconcile what here eyes presented. There was a clear trail of where the kidnappers turned into the brush and then there wasn’t.

Her partner said, “Soph, I don’t like this, not one bit!”

She nodded agreement. They needed to return the child to her parents. But all she could see was an unexplainable escape. You couldn’t beat physics, so where were they?

“Seven hours,” Tom said checking his watch. The kidnappers gave them only a half day to assemble the money and half of that was gone.


 

 

 

 

 

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Insecure Writer’s Support Group – 09/06/17

Purpose: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting! Be sure to link to this page and display the badge in your post.
Here we are at the start of September and while I am thinking about the start of football season and how my LSU TIGERS might fare this season there is another exciting event playing at the corners of my mind. My writing mind, that is. It starts as a whisper early in the year and develops into a full scream by mid-October. NANO! NANO! NANOWRIMO!
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Being a novelist I knew of this phenomenon and the ridiculous premise. Write a book, or at least 50,000 words of it within a short 30 day time frame. I tried unsuccessfully in 2015, falling victim to a couple of problems, sickness and the beginning of an international mission trip that left NO time to write. But in 2016 I had a better plan and I thumped NaNo’s minimum threshold 10 days early and ended up just north of 70,000 words.
While the experience was great from a writing accomplishment point of view it was mostly a solitary affair. Sure I tried to find Buddies as they are called on the NaNoWriMo site to share the journey, but only 2 of the 8 I befriended managed to complete the month. Then I got to thinking about this monthly collection of serious writers and I thought “Oh yeah, that is prime recruiting ground!”
So I am hear to solicit partners who will join with me in the NaNo endeavor this year. I tried really hard to encourage my buddies and also to post encouraging words on Twitter using the hashtag #Encourageawriter. But for the most part Twitter exchanges were one-sided brag fests or solicitations for pity because the Pantsing was overtaking the Planning.
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I wish the experience to be different this year and I believe you fine folks that frequent the #IWSG are just the quality Buddies I want for this year’s attempt. I have my premise well-established in my head thanks tot he 30 day A to Z Blogging Challenge where I mapped out characters, setting and plot of a historical novel.
So who would be willing to be encouraging and receive encouragement and real questions about the progress of your novel in a month madness? If you do either comment at the end of this or send me a message somehow.
Have you made good friends as a result of this monthly gathering? Who is your best writing contemporary? Do you live close to each other or have an online connection?
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Hands Like Hugo – Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers – 09/05/17

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If he wanted to be Hugo he had to learn to hold out the note as long as possible. Practicing the act required a lot of concentration and a specific way o handling the attempt. He struggled or weeks trying to expand his breathing prowess to pull o the eat, but it wasn’t until he got the hand right that he made the breakthrough.

Watching Hugo over the years he had never seen what he did with his hands. Not until he caught a grainy old video someone had loaded to YouTube. Then, he saw how Hugo did it! It was all in his hands.

 

 

 

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Tanked in the Tank – Sunday Photo Fiction – 09/03/17

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There was a lot of money on the race. The guys at O’Peele’s Bar would bet on anything, like the days until it would rain, when the gas price would change, either up or down or when the numbskulls o the drinking club had their annual race through town with whatever moving vehicle they could successfully drive.

There was a new sheriff in town, but even he could not stop this madness once it had begun. His half-dozen cruiser were no match for the surplus tank old man Harper bought to celebrate his glory days. The usual headliner of the Fourth of July parade was every bit as destructive without a working turret, especially when Billy Joe Jones had the steering mechanism.

Billy Joe had no clue how close he was to their agreed upon finish line when he crossed over the high bridge on the west side highway. All he knew was that his bottle was empty and he wanted more.

 

 

 Sunday Photo Fiction

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If You Can Spell It, You Can Date Me – Carrot Ranch Weekly Flash – 08/31/17

crff083117.png Not to mention if we were a couple how much fun we could have rubbing everyone’s nose in it!” Gabe finished his impassioned appeal. Zoe was the one he wanted to be with more than any other and he felt like this was his best chance to convince her.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said turning to the shelf with reference books on it in the school library, “I’ll pop open this dictionary and put my finger on a word with my eyes closed. Spell it and I say yes!”

“Okay,” Gabe smiled.

“Here,” she said. “Antidisestablishmentarianism!”

 

 


 

 

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Carrot Ranch – 08/31/17

Fiction in 50 – 08/28/17- A Blessing in Disguise

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Bruce has challenged us to craft a story using fewer than 51 words on the following topic with the following them for the month of August:

 

A Blessing in Disguise

Hermione knew something felt odd, but this was not the part of town to stop unless you had no alternative. But the car signaled a need.

Standing by the front she heard a loud crack and turned to see a monstrous tree falling and land 100 feet in front of her.

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https://thebookshelfgargoyle.wordpress.com/fi50-communal-flash-fiction/

The Storm of the Century . . . Again – Friday Fictioneers – 09-01-17

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Once this building was the place everyone knew they could go for safety. If there was a threat you wanted to be here. Nestled in these walls dreams were happy no matter how ominous the threat.

But sometimes there is no safe place, no respite. Sometimes the onslaught is so overwhelming the very best laid plans are worthless. Those times present problems to which there is no answer. When the winds and rain are so intense that no structure is safe.

Anna huddled with her children as the wind whipped the torrential rain on her back. This was their choice.


 

I am sorry to paint such a gloomy story, but as many of you are I am feeling heartsick for our fellow citizens in Texas and Louisiana and specifically the Houston metropolis area. We are witnessing the second “Storm of the Century” rip apart the lives of millions less than a decade and a half after Katrina did the same to Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama.

We had the pleasure of meeting a young man while having lunch on Sunday at a local Subway who lives in Houston and was on a truck driving run. We got to pray with him over the situation, which was all we could do to help him. He shared this photo with us.

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The Red Baron Is Up To Something – Carrot Ranch Weekly Flash – 08/24/17

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The first couple of times and maybe for the third escape of The Red Baron the warden at West End Correctional ate boxes of antacids. His facility was nationally known for being escape proof. But then the mysterious packages were foundin his office, right on his desk. Cuban cigars, the good ones! Kentucky Bourbon from his favorite distillery. He came to realize the TRB was doing this for fun. While he could not let it go unreported or unpunished he thrilled at the possibility of the next surprise.

In solitary TBR planned his final escape.

 

 

 


 

 

 

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Carrot Ranch – 08/10/17