Week 5 of the 100-words-per-week Serial Novel (which is technically Flash Fiction) exercise at the Writing Forum has come and gone. Over a month ago, I’m afraid [1]. Still, I owe you the conclusion to my wee story [2]. So, without further ado, the end of What Price, Charlie? (Working Title) Amber hooch was the hardest to fake. That’s what Edna the waitress had told … Continue reading And finally… the conclusion
It’s Week 4 of the 100-words-per-week Serial Novel (which is technically Flash Fiction) story I’ve been working on in the Writing Forum Exercises I participate in. This week, we addressed the Climax and Resolution of the story typically found in Act III of a 3-Act format and the six prompts to work into the narrative were: Invitation, Lantern, Twisted, Grainy, Falls, and Greedy.
If you recall from earlier in our story…
Continue reading “Words 301-400”
Part 3 of the 5 Part Series on Serial Novels
Building a story is a bit like building a house.
Continue reading “Construction 101”You might remember from last week that I’m participating in a month-long writing exercise building a short story [1], one-hundred words at a time.
Last week, we tackled the introduction: a hundred words to acquaint the reader with the characters, setting, and develop a story question or inciting incident. This week, we move on to what is often considered Act One in the Three Act Writing Structure [2] where we address the Rising Action [3]. Prompt words to weave in, to add to the challenge [4], are: common, infinite, captive, flaming, constant, movement
So, without further delay… the next 100 words! (Ahh… maybe I should include the first 100 words? They’ll be in italics.)
Continue reading “The next 100 words”Before television… before radio… many people got their fiction fix via serial novels. [1]
This is especially true for Rose in the late 1920s and early 1930s. While radios were getting their start, it wasn’t until the mid-30s that nearly every household could afford one. And since books were expensive and libraries few and far between, newspapers filled the void by publishing serial stories that readers looked forward to each week. [2]
Continue reading “Serial Novels”
I was reading an article about jazz in the Time-Life special edition on the Roaring Twenties [1] that I recently purchased when I read about a band in Chicago that was tantamount to the rise of that particular music genre.
Of course, that got me thinking about my W-I-P, as all things related to that era do, and my character Charlie Brockway.
You’ve seen Charlie in some previous posts [2], but he is still a relatively unknown character for me. I know he’s originally from Chicago; that’s there’s some big secret in his life; and that he’s a musician. But this Time-Life article got Charlie talking about his past a bit.
Continue reading “At the Garden”
One thing I’ve learned while writing is that I have a terrible visual imagination. I can describe how something feels. Or smells. And I’m pretty good with emotion. But ask me to describe how something looks and if it’s not right there in front of me, I go totally blank.
Maybe I’m afraid I’ll get it wrong? Without looking at it first?
Take my mythical town of Henderson…
Continue reading “The mythical town of…”
I’ve never been a gardener. In fact, I usually tell folks that “I don’t kill plants; I just make ’em wish they were dead.”
So, it’s fitting that, as I plan what flowers I’ll be planting this spring, I’m thinking about Rose, who also wasn’t much of a gardener.
Continue reading “How does your garden grow?”
I’ve been considering bank closings, and the panics that ensued,1 and how that would have manifested itself in the small town where Rose and Harold lived?
We’ve seen pictures of the mobs that rushed banks in New York after the big stock crash in ’29. But stories about smaller crowds, smaller towns, smaller banks, are harder to find.2
Continue reading “Banking Panic”
It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to sleep without air conditioning. Why is it that the A/C has to wait until mid-July to conk out? Couldn’t it have done this in April???
But, as I notice the little runnels of sweat forming on the back of my neck, I can commiserate with Rose. Summer is a hot and sticky time of year. Sometimes, we of the A/C generation forget that.
Not that I’ve always had air conditioning. No, you young whippersnappers;
