Sarah Ann Hall

Flash fiction, progress on WIPs, and the occasional excuse for not writing anything.

#FridayFictioneers – 13/2/15 – The Village Green

with 35 comments

 

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

Thank you to Rochelle for hosting and the photo this week.

 

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

The Village Green

(Genre: General Fiction, 99-words)

There is a patch of green outside my window. As kids we chased balls across it between picnics. Marcie and Ian got married there, inviting all to share their joy from tables laden with buns and wine.

The lawn hosted concerts, dances, feast days and political rallies before the plague came. Tents were erected then; people queued up to be inoculated and left with hope.

When the nursing station closed, a pit was dug through compacted mud. Turf was laid over bodies failed by experimental treatments.

There is a patch of green outside my window, where no one walks.

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

February 14, 2015 at 8:00 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 30/1/15 – Doing the Wrong Thing

with 31 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

There is an unformed story in my head related to Frankenstein’s monster – it’s got something to do with plugs and switches. I gave up on that one and worked with what I think Ted’s picture is of – a kiln.

I hope this translates, but have left a link for those who have different words for these things.

 

Copyright – Ted Strutz

 

Doing the Wrong Thing

(Genre: humour; 100-words)

Halfway through show and tell, Maria skipped to the front, blonde plaits swinging. Miss. Tregold prayed she didn’t trip.

‘My grandma is a potty,’ Maria said, holding up a vase of green swirls.

Maria was a confident child. Admonishment led to clenched fists and hamster cheeks, bulbous tears and wailing.

‘You mean nuts,’ Jason sniggered.

‘No I don’t. She made this,’ Maria brandished the vase, ‘on her potty’s wheel.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ Miss. Tregold said.

Maria beamed. So did Miss. Tregold. Fridays were draining enough without one of Maria’s tantrums. Someone else could remind her about the importance of word endings.

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

What Maria didn’t mean, but Miss. Tregold thought.

 

#FridayFictioneers – 23/1/15 – Myfanwy

with 40 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

 

Georgia’s photo provoked a sense of the ethereal, hence this week’s story. It’s clear what’s going on to me, but let me know if you have doubts.

Thanks to Rochelle as ever for hosting our little gang.

 

Copyright – Georgia Koch

Copyright – Georgia Koch

 

Myfanwy

(Genre: general fiction; 100-words)

Myfanwy skips down the towpath as she does every morning. The sun sneaked around her curtains early and mother didn’t need to shout to her bairns to get outside. Billy left her at the last bridge, walking to the farm to pester McKinley for work during the coming harvest.

Myfwany twines vetch and forget-me-not into a garland, places it on her head and giggles, knowing she is a beauty.

Three steps later her shoulders fall. She is alone in a stand of hazel. Myfanwy’s friends are grown and gone, shunning memories of a girl found floating, flowers in her hair.

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

 

Written by Sarah Ann

January 23, 2015 at 11:49 am

WIP Update – Jan 2015

with 9 comments

 

It has been a while since my last work in progress update. That’s because, although I have been writing, I have nothing to report.

 

On short stories:

All short story competition entries last year resulted in nothing. No magazines accepted any stories either, although I received letters from a few editors, saying, ‘We look forward to reading more of your work.’ I expect they say that to everyone. How many times do you approach the same magazine before giving up?

 

On the manuscript I thought was ready:

Having learnt that submission to more than one agent at a time is assumed and expected, I sent my book to be perused by three at the start of November. I had planned to send the manuscript on a rolling basis, maybe to three agents a month, until someone said they wanted to read more.

I also sent the first three chapters to a couple of fellow writers who I met at a conference in September. Their comments prevented me sending the manuscript to anyone else. There isn’t enough oomph in my story. I knew from talking with an agent at the same September conference that my story didn’t have a USP. With the help of my new writer friends, both of whose opening chapters are far better than mine, I might have found the book’s quite-interesting selling point. I need to start back at the beginning. I think the middle and end will stay much as they are, but the outset needs beefing up.

 

On new ideas:

There are far too many of those. I wrote 51000-words during November as part of NaNoWriMo. This was my first attempt and I didn’t expect to be able to write that much. It was an interesting process to put everything else aside and concentrate on one thing. I learnt I’m a pantser rather than a planner. I have 51000-words of a story about a therapist who counsels young people and suffers burnout because of the things he hears. It’s his story of recovery as well as those of the students he sees. It is a framework from which to build, and needs a lot of cladding as well as the incorporation of research.

Since the beginning of the year I have been working on another new character’s story, which I drafted during two nights of insomnia over the Christmas break. I have a real feel for this one, but that might be just because it’s fresh and new.

 

On self-publishing:

I will publish the writings based on the diaries written when I first moved onto a boat many years ago. This was in the process of being edited towards the end of last year and was ¾ of the way completed before NaNoWriMo happened and then 1st December crashed into Christmas. I’m not saying when, because I’m useless with deadlines, but it will happen this year.

Written by Sarah Ann

January 19, 2015 at 11:31 am

#FridayFictioneers – 16/1/15 – One Day

with 26 comments

 

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

I can’t believe it’s five weeks since I took part in Friday Fictioneers. It’s safe to say I haven’t got back into the swing of blogging and reading since the Christmas break. And now something VERY ODD has happened. I haven’t had a WordPress ‘New post’ email from anyone since 8th Jan. I’m slightly foxed and don’t seem able to fix it.

[Quite soon after posting, I found the problem. Emails and new post notifications back to normal. :)]

 

 

I felt a huge sense of sadness looking at Jan’s beautiful photo, hence this week’s tale, which isn’t great – it shows how out of practice I am.

 

Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

 

One Day

(Genre: misery lit: 99-words)

Harry lays the table every 15th September. One year he knows his in-laws will come to share his meal.

Estella had wanted an engagement party and big announcement, but agreed telling their parents individually and first would be kinder. His parents were thrilled; hers never heard.

Wanting everything to be perfect, Estella was riffling in the airing cupboard for matching napkins when –

Estella was loaded into the ambulance as her parents arrived; they followed to the hospital.

Sepsis seeped in through scalded skin; days later organs failed.

Estella’s parents organised her funeral. Harry wasn’t invited to contribute.

Still he hopes.

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

January 16, 2015 at 2:46 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 12/12/14 – Brotherly Love

with 20 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

(I don’t know why the frog has changed his icon, but at least he does appear.)

 

Many thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Sandra for this week’s photo.

Last week’s prompt and story are still dancing disunitedly in my head. Hopefully, they’ll come together soon.

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT - Copyright - Sandra Crook

Copyright – Sandra Crook

 

Brotherly Love

(Genre: General fiction/ misery lit.; 100-words)

‘I –’ can’t do this. ‘I –’ am a worthless piece of shit. ‘It –’ What am I doing here? ‘It –’

‘Karl, we have time. You can say as much or as little as you need.’

Paternal, caring. Large smooth hands. He’s never done a day’s manual labour in his life. Does that matter?

‘I –’ can’t say it.

His gaze is intent but not threatening. He cares without pretence. I can’t trust him, anyone. Everyone lies.

‘It –’

How can he sit so still? He makes me want to fidget. I need to leave.

‘I –’ must go. Must – ‘It started when I was six.’

 

Friday Fictioneers

Written by Sarah Ann

December 12, 2014 at 1:42 pm

#FridayFictioneers – 28/11/14 – War’s End

with 25 comments

Every Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields publishes a photo prompt to inspire writers to write 100-words of flash fiction or poetry.

At any point during the following week, the Friday Fictioneers post their 100-word tales. Read the other stories by clicking below.

 

It’s almost time for this Friday’s prompt I’m so late, but this story hasn’t left me alone, not that I think it works well enough. Some vital ingredient is missing.

 

Copyright- Randy Mazie

Copyright- Randy Mazie

 

War’s End

(Genre: Post-apocalyptic, 100-wods)

When the conflagration ended, one building remained untouched.

‘What’s in there?’ the boy asked.

‘Books full of learning; the key to building a better future.’

On the other side of the square a fired burned, men tore at spines, scattered pages.

‘What are they burning?’

‘Not all knowledge is good,’ the elder sighed. ‘We will never speak of what’s done. We must destroy all references to it so that those who come after cannot follow our example.’

The boy moved closer to the pyre, studied the partial titles: – Armaments, Modern Wa-

‘What is – ’

‘What you don’t know cannot hurt you.’

 

Friday Fictioneers

 

Written by Sarah Ann

December 2, 2014 at 12:38 pm

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