Jforce1964 is contemplating things in general...
Would like to publish a short story in the near future
How I did it: I took writing classes, online and in person I joined a critiquing group I networked with publishers and other writers (this allowed me to find the Flash Fiction Challenge published by Absolute Xpress where I was finally published) Read how I did it…
fomaguided will be a sexy writer. Just wait.
How I did it: My university's newspaper had a flash fiction contest last semester, which I entered and won second place. The professor in charge of the contest also helped put together our school's literary magazine, and he asked me if he could include it. Obviously, I said yes. It was supposed to be out last week, but there was some kind of delay. Hopefully, I'll be able to get a copy Monday! :) Read how I did it…
Jforce1964 is contemplating things in general...
Would like to publish a short story in the near future
She stands curious
and he is standing infront of her dont know where to start
she starts to feel worried
and he is saying what he wanted to say from the time he decided to meet her today
which is “we’re not good for each other..you will find a better person”
she is shocked wondering what could be the reason for what he said
and he shows his sad face..then goes away!
She keeps staring at him giving her his back and walk away..till he disappears from her sight!
she starts walking in the opposite direction to make sure she wont meet him
her hurt is getting deeper and deeper..which made her feel like dying
she cant see anymore from the tears that filled her eyes
she cant think about anything other than him..she hears nothing
except his voice and the sentence that turned her life from heaven into hell!!
She runs..as fast as she could..thinking that running will get rid of that memory
she keeps on saying why??what happened?? I loved him so much!!
then she stops!!
trying to take her breath after running for a long time
asking herself the questions that she was supposed to ask from the day she met him!!
did he love me??
when he said “I love you too”..did he really mean it??
she still cant figure out!!
but the only thing that she knows..is that he prefered to be with someone else
and leave her with her pain
she stayed up all night
thinking about the beautiful and happy days that made her smile impossible to erase
then…she thought about something..
she said”I dont need to hate him!! I should thank him..at least one day he was a reason for my happiness!!I will forget him and live my life happily!!..I lived before him and I will live after him..nothing deserves a tear from my eyes..why should I cry when he’s laughing right now? I deserve more than him…and he losed me..losed me forever”
finally she went to sleep with a smile on her face and a tear falling from her eyes onto her pillow!
THE END
“You kill me with your kiss, and you bring me back to life with the other”Aliena cried while she was trying to describe such a feeling , she doesn’t know anymore how to differentiate between the realm of reality and the realm of her dreams she has created . but then she smiled, this kind of a confidental smile and said anyway i’d like to live in this realm i’m in love with and she looked me up in the eyes and said …Shall i continue ?!
this story is short but sweet im 13 years old and i absolutely love writing and i love writing about love lol adults say you don’t know much about love when your young but damn i bet you i could prove any of them wrong any day i love this story and i loved writing it.
Melissa B. is a "Newness-seeking Self-improving Tree Hugger" . . . or is she? :)
10 years, to be exact . . .
Bad, bad me.
I’ve been working on a few lately, some I actually kinda sorta like.
elizabethmerchant loves to do lots of stuff
not sure, but i do have some kind of fun flash fiction
On the misty Saturday mid morning, only puddles and silence was awakening. The feeling that no one lived in the city. Rusty old cars near the curbs of the roads. No one lived in the older homes. Birds were prehistoric featured. Nature was at rest. The sky seemed as if it were featured in an 80’s show, ”Knight Rider”. Only those who lived the 80’s could remember that series. My heart was stopped, a pressure so deep within me, as I heard a fainted howl from afar. I felt a shiver from behind and the breeze from the shattered window from the rude awakening from the Tornado that hit last night. Not a soul in sight, I felt the loneliness so deep and within me. Where was I to go, amongst the grounds and the shivering cold feeling on throughout my skin, I’d look around and whilst walking on the creeking floor beneathe me. Not to far from the shattered window to what appeared to be a box someone had left behind it was slightly opened. Curiosity to open and see what was inside was hopeful but scared it was a something that wasn’t be reveled by just somebody, taking a deep breathe and grasp some hope to see what was in side. Dusted off the debris from the top of the box,inside a book with a gold plated feather. Could this be someone’s treasure, are they coming back for it. The rain had tapered off and looked as though the sun was attempting to come out. Again, in a distance the howl from a dog, so faint couldn’t figure out from what direction the noise was coming from.This house so desserted and the town so fague and unfamilar to me. In some unsuitable clothing, older looking fleece from the 80’s was the only thing that kept the cold from getting to my skin. Although the dampness on my pants from all the rain was doomed to give me a tummy ache. The feeling of the wet, soggyness that was in my shoes was almost unbearable. Leaving this old wicked home, carrying onto down this desserted street in hopes to find another human being. A child’s laughter not far from where I stood. I followed the laughter to end of an alley not 100 meters from where I’d heard a child and a few more voices laughter.Reaching that alley a garbage can had fallen, alley cats scraping and no one insight. My uneasy stomach feeling dropped, I shook to the point, the feeling in my throat was unbearable.Felt my skin sweat, my palms were clamy carried onto see where these voices were coming from. Reaching the voices, a old man sitting on old recliner just turned and looked at me with his undaring stare, the voices from a radio he had been listening to. With my nervous and fear in my voice, I asked who he was. He pointed to the curb and told me to sit and wait. I did as he asked although, wanting to take several steps back the other direction , not knowning who he was. He was the only person I had seen since this morning.
Listening to the radio with hope the radio man could tell us what had happened or where we were. Only thing I can recall is my tiredness and going to bed. Waking up to the morning of noone in sight. Building up the courage and tried to but the nervousness being me and ask the “old man” who was just sat there rocking in that chair, with his beedy brown eyes listening to the radio. What was happening, what he was listening for and how or where to go. I took a deep breathe, excuse me, excuse me sir. He looked at me, I just stood there and shivered and shook with fear in my voice. The man, got up and handed me a blanket and smiled. Can you help me sir, I asked. He sat back down in his chair and continued with his program on the radio. I couldn’t understand why he would not respond. So, I went back down the alley. Too scared to look back. Crossing the street, noticed a bright light in a store,”the book store” in this store there were no books, only shelves and old paintings.
Walking towards the back of this store, searching for some sort of sign or for someone who managed the store to help me find my way out of this town, but no one was there, my racing heart beat out of control ,suddenly a sound, just a tin can fell off the shelf and the wall hanging shifted and door squeeked. Much to my surprise, a small box in a corner just hidden from everything else. Almost scared to open it, I looked at it, shook it, was unsure if I should open it. I tried to open it but it was sealed shut. I kept trying, looked for something to help me open the box. It was sealed shut. It was small enough to put in my pocket. I continued to look around to see to find something to help me. I exhausted myself in the store. I looked behind me and the door was no longer there. I followed the bright light to what appeared to be a storage area for a clue. The howling sounds were back, I listened to it carefully and followed it to where the howling was coming from, it lead me to an old fashioned jukebox. The noises stopped, the howling was gone and only a tune of sounds was coming from this music box as if someone had just put in there coin requested a song and left.
I looked to see what my selection was, I played some relaxing meditative music in hopes it would calm me down. I sat there and daydreamed of a beach far away and smiling at the sun as the sunrays hit my face and thinking about all the places I wanted to be. Suddenly an old woman tapped on my shoulder and asked what I was doing there all by myself and if I knew why the police where circling the neighbourhood. I explained to her about the house, cars and curbs and rust in the old man and his radio, the alley and told her about the book store but no books. She looked at me like I was crazy and It looked as tho, I had made it all up as if it were all a dream. I was confused to why she wouldn’t believe me. I said didn’t you see the roads when you arrived here. She asked if I was hungry. I hadn’t even thought about eating. I told her I lived down the road from there. Still unsure who she was, she looked at me and said come with me so we can see why I was at fears sight
Still casually working on this goal, but in the meantime I’ve had a book review published (second one will be published this week, I believe) and am about to start my probationary period as part of the review staff for another publication.
It’s not a published story (someday, Aunt B, someday!) but it’s pretty darn cool for me. :)
i’m in the midst of writing a good romance story. i don’t know if it is too long to be published as a “short” story. but, i really love the story that i’m writing, and when i’m done, i really want to get it published. my grandma is a writer, she writes mysteries, and gets them published in alfred hitchocke and ellery queen’s all the time. i want to live up to what she has done, not for anything but pure joy.
|
|
aspire345 asks,
“Does anyone have recommendations on where to send a first short story (fiction)”
— 2 years ago |
|