Hear ye! Hear ye!! Come one-come all check the newest call for themed short stories at Stormdance Publications. Link below.
Something woke me early. I knew this day was different.
Stars fell last eve, the dawn blinked of day and night.
A woven canopy of twinkling stardust.
This day the Faeries brought the light.
Garden Gnomes emerged with shovels in hand,
Treasure sacks over their shoulders, ready to work.
Fingering my dragon ring; it wiggled.
The air shifted. Red and bronze scales shimmered.
Dainty dragon’s tail curled swirling around my finger,
Wing’s flap, eyes opening, yawning wide,
As babies do, coughing smoke, inhaling,
His first breath in animated life.
Fireflies lit the room dancing with pixies,
They knew. Arriving with treats for the tiny dragon.
The earth trembled. My treehouse woke, stretching its limbs.
A lumbering giant rocking to and fro — we moved.
Over hills and dales, across rivers and oceans,
Up and over mountain peaks, somewhere near eternity’s edge,
We paused. Listening to the distance march of marionettes approach.
We land with falling stars.
A new day, a new dawn.
The Earth thunders beneath our feet.
Wind strums the tree; the Forest sings.
Wave’s clash and crash, cymbals of attention,
To the far-off serenade of a Whale’s song.
Fireflies blinking sparks that litter the air.
Hearts full of life — children still believe.
We will not be erased.
Together we fight— The land of faery arise.
We stand united under the surface of stars.
Timeless by T. R. Neff
Desire by Katharina Gerlach
Covenant by Chris Makowski
Autonomous Militarized by Gina Fabio
Pipes by Barbara Lund
From Bad To Worse by Bill Bush
Under Surface Of The Stars: A Story Poem by Juneta Key
Un-Nefer’s Triumph by Kate Flint
Super Jill by Vanessa Wells
“Doors stuck, shelves fell, and don’t get me started on the landscaping.” Albert pointed at the scratches still marring his cheeks. “I thought paint a little and rent it out.”
“It’s a Tudor Revival,” nice, solid pre-Depression construction. “And you know I worked on my Dad’s team, so I can do restoration.” I even had all Dad’s tools in my trailer.
He guffawed in my face. “Jenny, it’s a ruin by a swamp. No one’s lived there for decades, kids just go there to see the ghost lights and get drunk.” Much like he was.
He poured himself another. “Tell you what – you fix it up by month’s end, and I’ll sell it to you for a dollar.”
“A dollar? That’s it?”
He shrugged. “And back taxes, but that ain’t much. And Lynette has to agree.” Lynette had been a friend since grade one; she’d also turned me on to Albert’s latest ‘get rich cheap’ scheme. It was sell or take a bath on those back taxes.
I knew to the dime how much I had in the bank.
I could do this.
We shook hands and he gave me the keys. “Twenty days.”
The outside was ivy and ornate flourishes.
The inside was a place you hid from zombies.
It took me all day to unjunk the place; trash, cigarette butts, empty bottles, unmentionables. I expected dead animals, but even the cabinets were sans vermin. The City of Port Goode wanted to raze the property and make it a gas station or something, but the house had good bones under the rotting flesh. Hardwood floors, casement windows, carved baseboards: the builder had loved this place and it showed.
And under all the slime and grime, the bathrooms… <sigh>
I checked the living room fireplace then built a fire. Cot, sleeping bag, wind up clock and a good book.
Outside, fireflies played in the moonlight. I didn’t get much reading done.
The next day…
Windows stuck. Drawers tried to brain me. My tools moved from room to room, and the power went off – twice! – when I took a drill to a wall. Food rotted and my water smelled funny. I got wallpaper to come off in rotten sheets – thankfully, there wasn’t any carpet anywhere – but the stairs threatened collapse.
I fought back: bleach, wood, nails, and elbow grease. After the first time, I was hauling the trailer with me to get supplies, which ate gas but let me get more at a contractor’s discount. Worked until I was working by lantern and falling over.
And I woke up the next day and…
The zombies had been there and partied. Hard.
So I got up, and started all over again.
And again.
And again.
It was Monday.
I wanted this place. I loved this place. I needed this place. I’d spent ten days and most of my money.
Dad always said I was too stubborn for words.
I got up – stepped in the obligatory puddle – and rolled up my sleeves. “Listen to me, house. I’ve got ten days to put you right, or they’re going to make you into a parking lot.”
The fireplace belched soot, the pantry door crashed open, and a hippy dressed in leaves popped out, pointing a stick at me. “Get out, stubborn human!”
I didn’t throw the clock at her. “Look, Lady, I don’t know who you are, but I’m fixing this house. It doesn’t deserve to be torn down.”
“My house!” she waved the stick – and kudzu ate my cot.
“Ok,” Palms out, I backed off until the door behind me shut and locked itself. “You don’t want help keeping this place…”
“Keeping?” She frowned at me. “Not ‘gutting’? Not ‘painting white’?”
I shook my head hard. “No! Fixing! Keeping! Restoring!” When she hesitated, I went all in. “I love this place. I’d love to see it back how it was, beautiful, nice…”
She lowered the stick slightly. “Talk, human.”
I spent the morning explaining building codes and eminent domain. Then I got more done in the rest of the day than the previous ten. Bye wallpaper, hello wood paneling – almost everywhere wood paneling, though I got my bathroom.
Every time I went out for supplies, she examined everything I brought back. “Stain, finish, OK, but no paint!”
I lowered my head. “Your house, your rules.”
That got a nod and I got back to work. Almost fell off the roof twice, but there was this tree branch…
The city did it’s inspection three days before deadline. The house ‘barely passed’, but I had the papers in hand when I called Albert.
He was there inside an hour.
“Here, all nice and legal.” I had the new deed all filled out for his signature.
He slid the papers back at me and leered. “I’ll rent it out to you, Jenny. Won’t be that much.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Al.”
The lights went a little dim.
“You have that in writing?” He fondled my new wooden walls. “They’ll look good with some white paint.”
The fireplace spat soot again and the leafy woman stepped out of the pantry, pointing her stick. “Sign papers, man!”
“What is this, Halloween?” He spat on the wood floor. “What are you going to do if I don’t?”
Albert always was a little slow on the uptake.
Lynette signed next to Albert’s scrawl, and I handed her my last dollar. “Place looks like it suits you, Jenny. Your Dad would be proud.”
I stuck the paperwork and the tax receipt in my purse. “Thanks. It was lots of work – more than you’d know. But this place grows on you.”
“It just might. But what’s with the rock sculpture in the living room?”
“Oh that?” I gave her a smile. “Donated by a local artist.”
“It’s so… disturbing. What did she call it?”
“Deference.”
Chris was born in the Pacific Northwest and lived briefly in Hawaii before being reared in New England. After traveling up and down and back and forth from coast to coast, he was dragged kicking and screaming in the bonds of matrimony to the State of Texas and has been mostly residing there ever since with his wife and son.
Fishing Expedition by Laurie Hicks
The Deed by Chris Makowski <–YOU ARE HERE!
Fetching Water by Katharina Gerlach‘
Cataclysmic Disaster by Bill Bush
Fiddle of Gold by Barbara Lund Author
The Origin of a Reluctant Supervillain by Vanessa Wells
Help Wanted by Juneta Key
150 Words or Less for each episode. There are 82 episodes in the short form outline. Book one expanded and revised version is currently in production. Plus five episodes of a short story outline in the same world. Coming in 2023.
This was an experiment on Medium where I outline my first book in the Midlife series in short form, 150 words posts. I created 82 episodes. I am currently writing the first draft expanding and revising. I also have a short story in this world that outline on Medium–Midlife Mayhem. This is complete list of the episodes for reading for convenience. You can find all on Medium on my profile and in my lists on the right side of my profile under the name of series.
Want To Support My Writing Enabling Me To Get More Stories Out?
If you are not a Medium member you can read the first three episodes for free. You can subscribe for $5 a month and become a member. I am in the Medium Partnership Program which means I earn money depending on how many minutes a reader spends reading, which depends on how long my stories are. Theses shorts are under 1 minute in read time, so I don’t earn much, but if you subscribe and use my affiliated link, I will get a small portion of the monthly fee for as long as you are a member. Thank you in advance for supporting my work. Here is my Medium Affiliate Link.
Midlife Crisis Trope
Genre: Paranormal Women’s Fiction
I turned 40, filed for divorce from my cheating soon-to-be ex-husband, if that is not bad enough, he MURDERED me. I didn’t stay dead. I’m magical with a destiny. Who knew? Not me!
I have seen ghosts all my life, mostly I ignored them. I thought everyone one saw them, but I live in a magical world I could not see before I died. Now I can’t unsee it. I am a ghostwalker. I have no idea what a ghostwalk is or does, but the dead and the magical do. The dead gave me a guide and teacher to help me figure it out, and the magical community just wants to hire me or use me.
In the human world I am an orphan, a procrastinator, and just can’t get my shit together. I have stayed in a marriage for ten years despite the fact I should have left after the first year. He comes from a big family. I so wanted to be part of that so I hung on. I should have faced the fact they will never love and accept me.
When I caught my husband in bed with another woman — in our house! Well, I was done. Ok I admit, I had suspected he cheated over the years, but in my face? I finally had enough and left filing for divorce.
I am not even sure it was the cheating that did it, but it was the last straw of disrespect I was willing to accept.
I’m tired of being seen as a doormat, people pleaser, the needy orphan in need of love and acceptance, and taken for granted — by everyone! It is time I demanded some respect, and apparently the universe decided to help me with that, along with Shamus, my cheating husband.
This short form experiment was an outline for a novel, which is currently in production expanding, revising, and editing for book length. Read the outline of the experiment that started the series all 87 links on one page for convenience of access.
Want to know more, stay up to date and be the first to hear when Midlife Ghostwalker is released?
Let’s talk about short story creation and structure.
Word Limits:
· A short story typically has 1500 to a 7500-words. You need to always read and follow submission guidelines when submitting stories.
· Flash Fiction has around 500 to a 1000-words.
These tips tailored for — but not limited, to stories 3000 to 4000 words.
· You need a character with a deep need or desire. Something that they will fight or struggle to get or resist. They need an external need/desire and an internal need/desire. This need or want is intertwined with the character’s core motivation for their actions and choices, consciously or subconsciously, good or bad. Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.
· Your character needs resistance, and by that, I mean something, someone, situation or event, that prevents them from fulfilling their deep need or desire. This resistance generates conflict for the forward story movement.
Clarify and simplify your character’s personality with a one-word description tool to capture character essence while you write. Describe them with one word to help you create a concept in your mind to use as a guide. ex: hopeless romantic, avenging mailman, nervous bank teller, guilty father, cranky bus driver.
Decide on setting. Setting can be snow at Christmas, or in the middle of Walmart, or a rainy day Monday, or waiting for a bus at the bus terminal.
Or a situation can also serve as both setting, location, and generate general conflict ideas: A bank robbery or shopping for toilet paper during the Corvid19 pandemic.
Start a short story as close to the end and in the action as possible.
What is a story hook? Why use it? A hook is something that is special about your story that grabs the reader’s attention keeps them reading. A hook is story-based through ideas and concepts directly connect to the story world. Suggested reading: Active Hooks.
In short stories, the hook works somewhat like the inciting incident in novel plotting. You want to grab them in the first couple of lines or by the first and second paragraphs.
Keep your word limits in mind.
Start your story in the middle of the action, or with active dialogue, or active setting as story character or reveal some aspect of your character. Suggested reading: Active Setting
Get rid of thought verbs, to be verbs and excess filler words such as just, really, very, even, then/than, suddenly, and phrases like at or in the moment, just now and so forth. Write with conciseness. Limit your adjectives.
Use strong verbs such as batter, blab, growl, gush, shimmer.
The purpose of a scene is to show a moment in the life of the character within the story world moving toward the story end goal.
The rising action is a series of actionable scenes leading up to the climax of a story.
The word limits of short stories do not leave a lot of room for characterization, setting, and conflict. That means you have to be selective in word choice and limit your conflict.
The rising action begins at the beginning of any story. Actions and choices, when presented with resistance, move your character toward the story’s high point. (Novels structure refers to this as the climax — turning point.)
Short stories, unlike novels, will only have two or three of these moments until the turning point because of word limits.
The purpose of all conflict in stories is to move the story forward toward the end story goal or scene story goal.
Conflict is NOT something random happening or daily routine.
Conflict is anything that stands in the way of your character reaching their greatest desire or need creating change within the character and/or outside the character or story world.
Conflict is generated and sustained through the choices and actions your character takes when blocked by the resistance, keeping them from the thing they desire or need most.
The climax is somewhere in the middle of ANY story. Everything after that will be falling action moving the character toward the resolution or end story goal.
The climax is the highest pivotal moment or emotional point signifying a change in direction or heart in the story. It is the moment when your character realizes how much they have to lose.
It also clarifies and solidifies all rising action to this point leaving, no doubt why this is happening or happened.
The character is all in — no turning back win or lose.
In short stories, this is often the dark night of the soul too or followed, in short, by the dark night of the soul because of limited word counts. The falling action then is the events that move the story toward the end goal or resolution.
Falling action occurs after the climax and sets a tone opposite of rising action cueing the reader the end approaches.
In a short story, you may have two or just one falling action moment, conflict — resistance, before the resolution. The falling action is the journey to the wrap-up. You tie up loose ends giving the reader closure for the story.
Here are some free tools to help you create characters and guide story structure.
· Cheat Sheet: Character Creation & Short Story Structure.
· Bonus extended character creation cheat sheet using astrology for creating more 3-dimensional characters and in-depth worldbuilding.
· What makes a good flash fiction piece?
