Today’s Tea Tidbit:
Loose-leaf tea is usually a better quality of tea than that found broken and bagged.
Two Haiku Poems
by Kelly F. Barr
A refreshing breeze
Chases Summer’s heat away
Backyard fun today.
Day’s light early ends
School days start at summer’s end
Harvest time is near.
Do you read Flash Fiction? What’s your favorite genre of Flash Fiction?
Flash Fiction’s popularity is growing. You can now find Flash Fiction Online Magazines, such as Flash Fiction Magazine, Havok, and Spark Flash Fiction. There are Flash Fiction Contests also available online, and lots of people writing about Flash Fiction, as well as writing Flash Fiction stories.
In addition to all of the genres and websites that offer Flash Fiction stories and/or Flash Fiction tips and advice, there are websites who define Flash Fiction and the definitions vary: some say a Flash Fiction story needs to be 300 words or less; some say 500 words or less; some say 1,000 or 1,200 or 1,500 words or less. The three online Flash Fiction magazines I listed above all require, in their submission guidelines, Flash Fiction stories between 300 and 1,000 words.
I entered a contest earlier this year that required 500 words or less. A Contest I entered more recently required 100 – 300 words. However, this contest didn’t require it to be only Flash Fiction stories–it could also be the beginning of a longer story (I wrote a 300 word Fantasy Flash Fiction story, and no, I didn’t win; didn’t even make it to the finals, but I rarely dabble in Fantasy. I was just happy to earn some votes in the first round.)
If you follow my blog, you know that I write a Flash Fiction story to post every Friday, and if you haven’t noticed, I do my best to write around 800 words, but I do make sure to write less than 1,000 words.
Why is Flash Fiction so popular with readers? Because theses stories are short. You can read a Flash Fiction story in 5-10 minutes, and you get a complete story. You can read them on a bus or train or while waiting in a doctor or dentist’s office.
Why is Flash Fiction so popular with writers? Because it forces writers to hone their craft — to write a well-written story that is tight and concise–no wasted words.
Every website that talks about writing Flash Fiction says, “Just like any other story, a Flash Fiction Story must have a beginning, middle, and end.”
However, many Flash Fiction writers write a satisfying ending that resolves the scene they have created, but leave room for the reader to imagine a complete ending they might like, similar to the old storybooks some writers wrote for children in the past: “choose your own ending”.
I do my best to put a satisfying ending on my Flash Fiction stories. However, sometimes I do leave it to the reader’s imagination to a degree.
What about you? Do you prefer a good solid ending on the Flash Fiction stories you read, or do you like a slight cliff-hanger that allows you to ponder how it might really end?
Photo by Randy Fath on Unsplash
The Beautiful Bookworm
by Kelly F. Barr
Jordan scanned the room. What a party—lots of food, drink, loud music, dancing, conversation, and pairing off—couples in corners, on sofas, and sneaking off to other rooms. What was he doing here? Sure, Brian was his friend, but Brian knew he wasn’t into this.
Then he saw the beer cans. No way am I hanging around. What if there’s a raid? I’m not getting busted for underage drinking.
Brian was dancing with a blonde in tight jeans and a low-cut red blouse. Jordan was about to interrupt, tell Brian he was leaving, when several dancing bodies parted, giving him a clear view of a girl with long waves of brown hair hanging around her face like a curtain. She was sitting on a large, square ottoman, elbows propped on knees, reading a book. How could she read with all this noise?
Why was she here? Curiosity adjusted his path, past Brian and the blonde, until he stood directly in front of the girl on the ottoman. She didn’t raise her head from the book, so he squatted down to her level. Still no response from the bookworm. He placed an index finger in the open spine of the book, applied a little pressure, and the book lowered, revealing the largest, greenest eyes he’d ever seen. It was like staring into two perfect emeralds, and his heart skipped a beat.
“Hi, I’m Jordan. I was just wondering how you could read with all this noise.”
“It’s a great book. Have you read it?” She lifted it so he could see the cover, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo.
“Uh, no, I haven’t. Listen, would you like to step outside—get some fresh air, talk where we don’t have to shout at one another?”
She shrugged, placed a bookmark between the pages, and stood up.
Jordan rose, turned, and led the way out the front door. The porch was empty. Jordan led the way to the swing.
When they were seated, Jordan, once again, peered into this girl’s emerald eyes. They enchanted him. “So, I take it, this isn’t your idea of a fun evening?” He smiled.
“Absolutely not.” She shook her head for emphasis. “Sabrina talked me into coming. She says I don’t get out enough.”
“Who’s Sabrina?”
“My older sister. She was thrilled that Brian invited her to this party. She thinks he’s hot. Mom and Dad will kill us if they find out we were here, not to mention what they’d think of Brian. I’m afraid Sabrina’s going to get in big trouble, but she won’t listen to me. She says I need to get my face out of a book and learn to live a little.”
“So, how old are you?”
“Sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in two weeks.” She fingered the book’s cover.
Jordan perched on the edge of the swing, ready to rise. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you from your book.”
“Wait, please don’t go. I … I think you’re cute.”
She lowered her head, allowing her hair to hide her face, but not before Jordan had seen the blush creep into her cheeks. Was he the first guy she’d talked to?
He placed a finger under her chin and lifted so he could look at her face. For the first time, he forced himself to look at more than her eyes. Her creamy complexion was flawless and her pink lips formed a bow. He’d never beheld such beauty before.
He allowed his eyes to do a quick scan of the rest of her. She was wearing a white mid-calf length skirt and a mint green summer sweater.
“What’s your name?”
“Abigail.”
“How come I haven’t seen you around before?”
“My mom homeschools me. She tried homeschooling Sabrina, but Sabrina fought with her about it. Sabrina wants to be popular, and she’s boy crazy. My parents keep trying to encourage her to get to know the young people at our church, but Sabrina doesn’t want anything to do with church. I’m praying for her, and I talk to her. She listens to what I have to say, even if she doesn’t agree. I hope she at least thinks about it.”
Jordan raked a hand through his hair. “Do you have a boyfriend at your church?”
The corners of her mouth tipped a bit. “Not exactly, but there is someone interested in me.”
“Are you interested in him?” Jordan held his breath.
Abigail shrugged. “Maybe.”
“But you think I’m cute?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
This time she didn’t lower her head, though the blush colored her cheeks again, and Jordan leaned toward her.
Abigail jumped up and Jordan nearly fell as the swing rocked.
“I’m sorry. I better find Sabrina and get home. It was nice meeting you, Jordan.” She turned to flee into the house.
Jordan moved to follow her. “Wait … Abby!”
She stopped at the front door, turned to look at him. “No one calls me that.”
“I’m sorry. Did I offend you?”
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“Say it again … what you just called me.”
“Abby.” He noticed her slight shiver. He stepped closer. “Abby … Abby … Abby.”
Standing before her, he lifted a hand, cupped the side of her face.
Then she was gone, through the door, into the crowd.
Jordan leaned against the door jamb and sighed, his heart pounding like tribal drums in his chest.
Today’s Tea Tidbit:
Tea began as a medicine and morphed into a beverage of choice!
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
by William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way.
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Fawkes is an historical fiction novel by Nadine Brandes. It is about a plot against parliament, which is an event in history, but Ms. Brandes has added a fictional fantasy story line which is about the power of colors. She has also included the plague in the story because the plague was really happening during the time period of this story. However, she has chosen to put an interesting twist on the plague as well.
I must say that if it wasn’t for my interest in the main character, Thomas, the son of Guy Fawkes, an actual historical character involved in the plot against parliament, I’m not sure I would have continued reading this book beyond the first few chapters. There was so much emphasis on color power and masks in the first part of the book, that I found it to drag on and on. I didn’t actually get really interested in the book until the second half.
I suppose part of the reason I didn’t fully enjoy the story is because I didn’t fully understand the battle between the Keepers and Igniters, and though I thought the White Light was supposed to represent God, I didn’t think it was an accurate representation.
The story began to pick up when Thomas discovered his friend, Emma’s secret, which had a profound effect on their relationship, and from there Thomas began to search for answers pertaining to the color powers and the truth behind them. He had never been comfortable with the constant fighting between Keepers and Igniters and the killing of innocent people. He also wasn’t comfortable with the plot his father and his friends were planning against parliament. He had some difficult decisions to make, and he’d been infected by the plague twice.
As Thomas fought his own internal struggles and the plot against parliament began to be put into action, the story finally hooked me, and during the last third of the book, it definitely kept me turning pages. I was very pleased with the ending as it was realistic and satisfying.
I must say that Ms. Brandes did an excellent job with writing this story. It is very well-written and I found no mistakes that should have been caught in the editorial process, which tells me that Ms. Brandes had a good editor, maybe more than one, so there were no grammatical or typographical errors.
The thing I am most thankful for is that Ms. Brandes included a section in the back, “What’s True and What’s Not”, where she explained what was historically true and where she received her information, and what she chose to add to write a full-length historical fiction novel about an historical event. I had never heard of Guy Fawkes or that particular plot against parliament (apparently, there were several).
This was the first book I’ve read that is a Fantasy Historical Fiction, and as I am a new Fantasy reader, maybe that was part of my problem with this book as well, because I love Historical Romance stories. I think the Fantasy part of this story just didn’t appeal to me. I know many people who read it and loved it, so I know my lack of interest is due to my own opinions and not anything Ms. Brandes wrote, and as I said, I did really enjoy the last third of the book, and was invested in Thomas Fawkes, the main character, from the beginning. Therefore, I hope, if you are considering reading Fawkes, you will give it a try, especially if you’re a big Fantasy fan because you might really like it.
Photo by Ryan Young on Unsplash
At Home in Your Arms
by Kelly F. Barr
There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me.
I’d felt his eyes on me for several minutes and guarded my gaze by peeking through my lashes. He was breathtakingly handsome with cerulean eyes and a cleft chin, thick wavy blond hair that caused my fingertips to tingle with the desire to run through those waves. Muscles rippled down his golden tan arms and across his chest in his snug orange t-shirt. My heart pounded in my chest, but I couldn’t tell if he was interested in me, or if I should be concerned that he was some kind of creepy stalker guy.
I raised my head from the magazine I’d been reading and let my eyes meet his. He smiled at me, revealing bright white perfect teeth and deep dimples in his cheeks.
I smiled back. He rose to his feet and began closing the short distance between our tables. My heart pounded in my ears and drowned out the noise of the cappuccino machine behind the counter.
“May I buy you a coffee?” He towered above me.
I picked up my empty cup, gave it a little shake, and set it back down. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Well, in that case, may I join you?”
“Okay.”
He pulled out the chair next to mine, closing the gap between us farther, sat down, and pulled himself up to the table. “Do you come here often?”
“Everyday. Can’t live without my coffee. How ‘bout you?”
“I just moved to town, so this is my first visit. I’m Randy McDaniels.”
“I’m Holly Applegate. I was born and raised here.” I retained eye contact with Randy. His eyes pulled me in like a couple magnets. “What brought you to town?”
“I got tired of the big city and the fast-paced lifestyle. I was raised on a farm and spent summers swimming in the creek.”
“Why did you go to the big city in the first place?”
“Oh you know, when you’re young you always think you’ll find something better, more exciting, than where you are.” He paused and stared into my eyes for a minute. “You have large eyes. They’re beautiful and I could look into them all day long.”
Heat crept into my cheeks and I shifted in my seat. “Um, thanks. So what are you plans for living in our small town?”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Right now, I just want to get to know you better. Would you be able to spend the day with me tomorrow, show me around, and give me a taste of what it’s like to live in this quaint little town?”
My heart skipped a beat, and I cleared my throat. “Sure, I could do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I gathered my purse and my empty cup and rose from my seat. “I’ll meet you here at 8 a.m. You know, I gotta have my coffee.”
He grinned and nodded, and I made my exit.
The next day the sun was shining and a cool breeze teased some of the tendrils of my hair. I met Randy at the café. We grabbed coffee and a couple scones.
We visited all my favorite places in town and I introduced Randy to many of the locals. We ate lunch at Dee Dee’s Diner, laughing and talking between mouthfuls.
We went bowling, roller skating, and took in a movie. It was a romantic comedy that caused me to wonder what it would be like to hold his hand or have him put his arm around me.
I drove to the beach a half-hour outside of town. We had dinner at my favorite seafood restaurant overlooking the ocean.
After dinner, Randy looked at me as we stepped out of the restaurant. “Would you like to take a walk on the beach?”
I nodded. When my feet hit the sand, I paused and slipped my sandals off.
Randy took his socks and sneakers off, stuffed his socks into his shoes, tied the laces together, and hung them from one shoulder. Then he reached over and took my hand in his. It was a perfect fit.
We walked in silence for a while, then Randy stopped and turned toward me, letting his shoes fall to the sand. He lifted an arm, and with his fingers brushed hair back from one side of my face. Then he placed his hand on my cheek. “I had a great time today. You are fun to be with, and you are beautiful.”
He leaned toward me and I held my breath.
Then his lips were on mine. He tasted of butter and garlic, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and entangled my fingers in his hair. He encircled me in his arms and drew me closer. When the kiss ended, he continued to hold me and I put my head on his shoulder. I inhaled the scent of him—coconut and a touch of musk. His arms felt like home.
He pulled back just a bit and placed his forehead against mine. “This is what I came to this town for—the love of a good woman. You feel so right in my arms, and there seemed to be something between us as soon as our eyes met. Do you feel it?”
I nodded, raised up on tiptoes, and touched my lips to his.
When that kiss ended, he looked into my eyes. “I feel like I’m home.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
Today’s Tea Tidbit:
“Ecstasy is a glass full of tea and a piece of sugar in the mouth.”
— Alexander Puskin
Character Driven
by Kelly F. Barr
They introduce themselves to my mind–
Men, women, children.
We need you to tell our stories.
Their histories, backgrounds, and circumstances unwind.
Notes spill from my pen and a story begins
As my fingers tap, tap upon my laptop keys.
Sentences, paragraphs, pages, and chapters flow;
A plot of conflict and romance weaves.
Nearing the end, and someone new arrives
Upending circumstances, challenging romances.
I thought I knew where this was going; now unsure–
My mind spins as this new person drives.
As the climax hits and the story begins to dive;
A gradual grade descending;
One broken–healed; One rejected–accepted; One lost–redeemed,
Bringing it all to a satisfying ending.
Photo by Molly Belle on Unsplash
Riley’s Hero
by Kelly F. Barr
Tyler tilted Riley’s chin up to get a better look at her face and gritted his teeth at the evidence of a fight. Using his thumb, he delicately wiped away a streak of blood near her mouth, saying nothing as he examined her for a split lip or missing teeth.
After a brief pause, Riley’s heart skipped a nervous beat as Tyler looked directly into her eyes.
His voice, quiet and tense, his anger barely restrained. “Who did this to you?”
Riley turned away and hung her head. “It’s not your concern. I’m all right.”
“All right! Your lip is swollen and bleeding and you have the beginning of a black eye … and what do you mean … it’s not my concern?” He stepped around in front of her, waited until she met his gaze. Then he placed a hand on the side of her face. “I love you. It’s my job to protect you. Now tell me … who did this to you?”
“My dad came home drunk again last night. When he backhanded my mom so hard she flew across the room, I moved in and punched him in the jaw. I told him if he ever hit Mom again I’d kill him. That drew his anger toward me. He said I was too big for my britches and he’d show me I wasn’t so tough, but I showed him I’m resourceful. His first strike was a backhand to my mouth. When his fist connected with my eye, I landed on the floor. I spotted my old baseball bat within reach, so I grabbed it, got to my feet, and swung it. I hit him in the head … not hard enough to kill him … but it knocked him out cold. Then I got Mom out of that house … took her to a shelter.”
Tyler wrapped Riley in his embrace. “Do you think she’ll stay in the shelter … not go back to your dad?” He said the word as if the taste of it was vile in his mouth.
She shrugged. “I hope so. It really upset her to see him hit me. She’s always taken the hits before. I hope that’s enough to motivate her to make a change—to get away from him for good.”
Tyler held her tighter. “You’re not going back there … not ever again.”
Riley looked up at him.
“Marry me, Riley. Then you can live with me and I can always protect you. No woman deserves to be beaten like … this.” He ran a thumb over her swollen lip, so gentle.
The love she saw in his eyes enveloped her with warmth. “I know you love me and … I love you, but I still have two years of high school, and you’re supposed to go to college, get your degree.”
“Look, I already have my own apartment and a good job in the field I want to study anyway. I can talk to my boss … maybe the company will help with my degree … maybe online classes, and you can still finish high school.”
“I can’t marry without a parent’s consent and a judge’s approval. I’m underage.”
“Then move in with my parents. They know I plan to marry you—that you’re the love of my life. I’m sure they’d be supportive.” He took her hand and stepped toward the door. “We can go talk to them now. I need to know you’ll never be near that monster again.”
“Tyler.” She reached up and placed the cool palm of her hand upon his cheek. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a hero like you, and words could never express how much I love you.” Then she stretched up on tiptoes and kissed his lips.
The kiss was light as a feather, but Tyler’s heart turned over in his chest and he drew Riley into his embrace once again. He’d do whatever it took … whatever it took to never let her go.
Kelly F Barr 