A few of you noticed I’ve been AWOL for a while. I’ve been helping out my mom, trying to make headway on my rewrite, and in general dealing with changes in my life. Back up a bit … did I tell you I wrote a whole novel? Yep. It has romance, sizzle, witty dialogue and characters I hope to introduce to you all someday. But first, I gotta rewrite the darn thing. As it turns out, rewriting is harder than writing. Go figure. I suppose that’s why I recently made my first foray into the world of microfiction, specifically 100-word stories. It was quite a wonderful exercise in brevity and helped me focus on the nitty gritty ingredients of writing – words and sentences.
In the world of microfiction, Every Single Word has to be scrutinized. Verbs become more important than ever. Adjectives become less important than ever. Setting the scene, creating an emotional image, connecting with the reader must be accomplished in the very first sentence(s). By the end of the story, you want to surprise your reader or make some sort of revelation worthy of the time they took to read your epically terse tale. Limiting myself to 100 words actually made me stretch my mind more than when I have no restrictions. I’m sure any writer reading this knows exactly of what I am speaking.
Well, anyway … I’ve been thinking about my blog a lot and how neglectful I’ve been. I’m behind on Outlander – have not even watched the last four episodes! Unfortunately, I cannot simply watch a new episode without it becoming work, so I’m holding off until I can give the last few episodes their due diligence. Soon. Soon. Soon. In the meantime, I want to share with you one of my 100-word stories, (naturally) entitled: That Girl. I hope you like it.
“Look at her,” my friend says with a sneer and a snicker. I glance up from my Diet Coke and rocket salad. My eyes target a lone girl, not much heavier than I am, eating a hot fudge sundae. I wish I were that girl; I think, watching her spoon rise toward her mouth with ice cream and fudge dripping off the edge. She smiles, rapt in her bliss. Darting back to my salad, my eyes feign dispassion, keeping my disloyalty hidden. I am not friends with a hot fudge sundae. But then, a hot fudge sundae never judged me.