Glad to be back in the world of flash fiction with my favorite weekly writing prompt over at Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  Hope you guys enjoy this one!



“We’re losing elevation, Tom.”
“I know Ben.”
“There are cars in those streets, Tom.”
“I know Ben.”
Tom had never flown a chopper before. He still wasn’t sure how Ben had talked him into being the one to do it. Ben was always setting him up. They had been planning the heist all summer. Weeks, even months of effort would be wasted because Tom couldn’t maintain altitude. Assuming they weren’t killed. Even if they somehow survived, the consequences would without question last the rest of their lives. There’d be no leniency.
“Tom, you’re going to crash!”
Tom panicked. He pushed down hard on the stick and the chopper lurched violently towards the ground. Too late he remembered he should have pulled back.
“Oh no oh no.”
There was a terrible grunt as the thing hit the asphalt. Cars shrieked as their drivers slammed on brakes and horns alike in a futile effort to avoid this sudden invader to their streets. Time stopped for Tom as his world crashed down. In that frozen moment, a single car dodging the pileup managed to break through and run right into Tom’s chopper.
And crushed it.
It was Dad’s favorite.
Dad was going to be pissed.




“Come on come on come on! Get your stuff!”
Matt tapped his foot and glanced again at his watch. Every hour wasted was another hour he’d have to rent the damned moving truck. It was cheaper than the hotels, but that didn’t make it cheap.
Avery, his oldest stepped up, one hand on her hip and the other clutching her travel bag. “I’m tired of moving,” she whined. “Can’t we just stay in one place for a while? I’d like to you know, make friends.”
Matt dismissed her complaints with a wave of his hand and stepped forward to grab the edge of her bag and pull her towards the truck.
“You’ll understand when you’re older.” She dutifully climbed up the side and pulled open the door. A stack of fliers and brochures of locations all over the country littered the front seat. A giant “X” written in black Sharpie marked over half. His daughter pushed them to the floor. Once she was settled, he handed her a map with the paperclip on the top holding yet another flier to it.
“Destiny Falls, North Dakota. Fame and fortune await.”
This time would be the one.


Here’s this week’s Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.



“That’s 49.” George sighed, letting the warmth of satisfaction pass through him. It contrasted nicely with the cold outside. So close to done.
The stinging in his leg pulled his attention back to present. The buzz of the needle was the only sound while the tattoo artist worked. The artist leaned back and admired her work. A beautiful black outline of a malamute wrapped around his shin.
“49 Tattoos?”
George chuckled. “Yes. Some people collect license plates. I get decorated. 49 designs on the car. 49 on the skin. Almost done. Just one more state to go.”
“Good luck man.”
He nodded and smiled.
Now how was he going to get the car to Hawaii?

Recapping a Year of Blogging

I’ve officially had this blog for a year.  It seems almost shocking that I “Started My Fiction” a year ago (technically 3 years ago, but I’m measuring in terms of when I started the blog).

To be fair, I only did the blog for a month and a half before I let it go, and didn’t pick it up again until six months later, but I’m still feeling sentimental and wanted to post on it.

I’ve compiled some lists, and thought I would share.  Before I do, I would like to thank each and every one of you that has been part of this blog for however long you’ve been part of it.  It wouldn’t be where it is today without all of you!

Top 3 Non-Fiction Posts

Scrivener vs yWriter5: Edging out just ahead of the competition, this post discusses pros and cons of Scrivener vs yWriter.  I still have them both, but I’m currently using Scrivener.

5 Tips for Writing Flash Fiction: I love flash fiction.  This is a list of a few things I think can be used to make it great.

Outlining your Story – Plot:  Pretty self-explanatory.  Part of my Outlining your story series, focusing in on Plot.

Top 5 Liked Fiction

What I Always Wanted: This one still comes in head and shoulders above the rest.  Probably in my top 3 favorite stories to write.  It was my second attempt at a photo prompt, and when I read it, I still have to smile.  I was pretty mean to this poor kid.

Runner: Also in my personal favorites.  Wanted to get into the head of this kid and do convey enough meaning to show why he’s running.

Harriett:  First stab at a horror story.  How to build emotion and dread in so few words?

Fifth Period: I really loved this one.  I wanted to write something with strong descriptive language, and I enjoyed the humorous twist at the end.

Condemned: A little surprised on this one.  I had no idea what to do with the prompt, and let myself go.

Top Interview

This interview with Matt Kilby.  He wrote a great piece of horror, and had lots of good tips for new writers.

Top Book Review

Magic Bites.  Ironically, of the books I’ve reviewed, this was both my first and my least favorite.  Maybe it has a closer cult following, maybe other people reading it just felt the same as I did.  Maybe the timing was great or the tagging clever.


Our Table

This week’s Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.


Our Table


Claire’s heart fluttered as she read it again. She had been seeing George pretty regularly for almost a year… He was perfect. Sweet. Caring. He brought her tulips (her favorite). He read to her. They took a trip to Europe together last fall. He talked to her cats… And no guy had done that before. Perfect.

Would he ask her tonight?

She didn’t really have to consider what her answer would be. Just how she would say it.

She sat at their table in her best evening gown and waited, a place they had only been once before… their first date. She couldn’t believe he still remembered it.

“I told you I’d be here,” she heard George’s voice from behind her. She smiled and rose to her feet, spinning around.

And her heart collapsed back into the chair… to the ground… Six feet under.

George was settling into a table a few feet away with a petite blond with unnaturally large eyes, a pout set on her lips.

“I’m at our table, babe.  Didn’t you get my text?”

Tilting at Windmills

I couldn’t resist this photo-prompt from Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.  Hope you enjoy it!  Thanks to TJ Paris!


Tilting at Windmills

Donald took a deep breath. This would be the biggest moment of his life, a life which until today had been sentenced to menial chores around the farm. Well, he wouldn’t stand for it any more. Let somebody else carry grain to the mill! He was already nine, and life was passing him by. Well, no more.

He’d need to prepare. He grabbed his lance, an old post that he’d spent most of last summer filing the end down to a point. He strapped on his armor, the pots and pans that he had scavenged from Mom’s kitchen. The family dog watched him at this with some interest, thumping his tail dutifully on the floor.

Don leaned down and pet the dog, who got up to follow him as he strode from the house.

“Come on, Sancho. Today, we set things right.”

Today, he escaped monotony! Today, he freed himself of the giants that loomed over him.
Today, he’d be tilting.

White Snow

Here’s today’s Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.  For some reason, the focus and color made me think Disney.  A little long this week!

Thanks to pixabay for the picture.

White Snow

The outside of the apartment was like nature’s circus, a beautiful assortment of colored plants. If only it didn’t have to snow!
The young man fiddled with the door for several minutes, large droopy eyes giving him an almost childlike visage. Didn’t work. He gave the door a feeble kick. Nothing ever worked. And suddenly, his friend was there, the nice lady with the pale skin and dark black hair.
“Come on, you old dope. Don’t let the grumpies get you,” she sang before nimbly stepping over to help him. She eased the key from his hands and helped with the lock.
He smiled up to her. She leaned in as the lock clicked. “See! Be happy.”
He just kept up with his simple smile.
“Not talking… Feeling bashful?”
He wasn’t really sure what bashful meant, but nodded at her. He liked to see her smile at him. The snow had begun to land on her, each flake adding a sparkle to her sapphire blouse. A flake landed on his nose, making him sneeze.
She shepherded him into the apartment, the only light of that cave coming from the brightness outside. “Now go wash up for dinner.  The Doc says you need to get some sleep, and I’d like for us to eat first.”
He shuffled off, trying to do as she asked. Moments later, he heard a voice at the door. It was an old woman, looking almost one with the falling snow, withered skin and a pointed nose like a wilting gray carrot. The young man disliked her immediately.
“Would you like to buy some fruit, my dear?”