Flash Fiction Challenge- 2nd Edition
If you choose to accept it...
Back in May 2022, I set a flash fiction challenge. I picked a line from a book at random and challenged you to write a 250 story from that prompt.
Last Month, the piece I wrote from that prompt (yes I took the challenge too) was published in Inkfish Magazine. I was delighted and I love how the story came from this newsletter. It felt special and like I had all of you to thank too! š
So, I thought Iād set another prompt for us to have some fun with. I just love writing flash fiction and I think for those who usually write longer form it is a great way to really hone in and think about every line and every word, to really delve in.
So, without further ado, here goesā¦ (make sure you keep reading to the bit where I suggest you buy cake)
TheĀ Write As You Are Flash Fiction Challenge- 2nd Edition
Prompt:Ā I picked up a book nearby; Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri. I flicked through until I was compelled to stop.
The first line I saw was:
The window on Tinaās side was broken and could not be rolled downā¦
Use this prompt to inspire you. Use single words from it or include the entire sentence, or simply go with the essence, the feeling it inspires in you. Do whatever feels good, follow whichever tendril leads you into a story.
Suggestions:Ā I suggest writing the first draft of the story without thinking too much. Let it come in first, land on the page as it chooses. Then in the edit you get to pare down, think about each word. Is it the best word I can use? Can you play with alliteration, sounds, metaphor, etc? First at sentence level, then down to word level. Is each word doing enough to earn its keep, could I remove it, choose a better word?
If it feels helpful, put a timer on for fifteen minutes in which you have to write the first draft. That will help to move you out of the critical mind and into the subconscious.Ā If the critic comes, just tell it ānot now!ā It will get its chance to be useful when the timer goes off and it is time to edit.
However, these are all just suggestions. If they donāt feel good, ignore themā¦Write as you are!Ā
Ritualise: If you feel called to ritualise this experience, you can light a candle while writing, put on music that you love, dance before and after you write, write whilst drinking your favourite freshly brewed cup of tea, write in a cafe (and get cake when you finish), do whatever it is that makes it feel special, contained, joyful for you.
Rules:
1.Ā Ā Ā Maximum 250 words.
2.Ā Ā Ā Have fun
Sharing: If you would like to share your stories, I would just love to read them. Feel free to share in the comments or send them directly to me.Ā
Let me know in the comments if you are planning to take the challenge, your comment can act like a little marker of your commitment to yourself.Ā
I so love that all theses stories have a great twists.
Here's mine though it still sits at 444 words and I can't work out how to trim it so I thought I'd share what I had
"Window on the world [444 words]
Tina wasn't sure she wanted to see how her life truly was so she kept her window to the world stuck fast.
Sometimes she leaned across and looked out of Levi's window. He liked that. His view of the world was singular, clear, definite whereas, from what she remembered, her view was blurred and indistinct.
They had rode together for many years with Levi making the decisions at the junctions of their lives ā where they lived, who they mixed with, whether they had children or not [that had been a not], how many hours she worked, how their house looked, what money they spent on what, pensions, investments, and so forth. Tina was allowed to choose what they ate, though Levi choose the timings of their meals. Tina was allowed to clean the house as she liked, so long as she did not do it at times when Levi was at home.
At the start of their journey Tina had protested but Levi shown her how her window on the world wasn't clear. She acquiesced for a peaceful life and let her window smear up and stick and learned to be content.
Then Levi died.
He was only 54. She was not yet 50. Their shared vehicle clunked to a halt.
As she stood at his graveside she realised she didn't like any of their so-called friends as they gave their condolences and advice.
Once the house was silent Tina heard a progressive shuddering then a clunk. She felt the breeze of freedom blow threw. It smelt good; of pine forests and new walking boots, of tempestuous seas and yellow waterproofs, of candy floss and engine oil, of new books, log fires, red wine and oysters.
She shook her head and the clips fell from her neat bun. A mess of long salt-and-peppered hair cascaded around her shoulders.
There in the living room she took off her neat black dress suit, her kitten heeled shoes and her Marks&Spencer's underwear. Naked she walked up the stairs to their bedroom. She pulled on a pair of comfy knickers, a pair of patchwork joggers she'd bought on impulse, a t-shirt with WHAM! across the bust bought from a charity shop for decorating, and a blue hoodie of Levi's.
She found a pair of comfy trainers used for gardening and walked briskly to the animal rescue centre. There she procured a scruffy brown mongrel dog. Levi had insisted that dogs were a waste of time and money.
As Tina and Mungo set off to the park she heard a splintering. The window on her side had fallen to the ground and would never hinder her view again. "
Love flash fiction! I hope a few more will be brave with me and share in the comments. Also - a plug for Susannah as a writing mentor! I can't write without her popping into my head now and then, asking me great questions or reminding me that this should be fun. :)
Tina's Window
The window on Tinaās side was broken and could not be rolled down. Andre glanced over to see the beads of perspiration forming along lines in her freckled forehead. Her hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, showing bits of white scalp where it thinned at the temples. The 1990 blue Dodge van whined as Andre depressed the accelerator a little harder. Heād pushed the seat as far forward as it would go, but his toes still barely touched the pedals. Theyād found a few phone books in the junk closet of their grandmotherās house for Andre to sit on so he could clearly see above the wheel. Sunrise waxed into full daylight glaring onto the highway, making them squint. Tina sat in the passenger seat very still, except for the right hand she kept rubbing over her protruding belly. Silently, but together, they prayed to make it into Canada. Women like Tina werenāt allowed to have children anymore, but Canada was still offering asylum to those few who could make it across the border on their own. Andre and Tina broke the silence when a herd of tan antelope ran parallel to them through the fields. āWe should rehearse,ā Tina said in a faint labored voice. Andre nodded. He loved Tina and would do anything she asked. Steal their grandmotherās car. Pose as her son. Tina had heard that unlawfully pregnant women with a pre-existing child received leniency if prosecuted. But sheād still be sterilized if caught.