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Drabbles Needed! Authors, have a go.
message 851:
by
G J (Gaff to my friends)
(new)
Jul 03, 2015 02:40PM
G.L. I know it's not the done thing to post here before the Hippo, but I'd seriously consider offering it for daily Drabble. I'm sure it would get a lot of love from hippo subscribers.
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How do you do that? I've only peeped at the Hippo once or twice.
Go to www.bookhippo.uk and create an author account. In the Drabbles section, click add Drabble. Copy and paste your work in the relevant areas and click submit. Wait for it to be moderated (which I'm sure it will be) and hold your breath. If Rosen and the crew love it, it'll appear on the hippo and bingo, your first published Drabble. It will also appear on the FB drabbles page and will probably get retreated a bunch.
Fourteen DaysThe first week was tough.
Terminal. It's just a word. Like love. So why does it feel worse? Terminal. It means: to stop. Where a train stops.
It took me until Friday to come to terms with it. No time to worry too much.
Week two was easier. No time for a list. No time to visit people, or do the things you always wanted to.
Now it's time. I think back on the things that make me blush, and realise that they don't anymore. Would I do them again? Hell, yes. I only had one shot to be me.
This one was published recently.The Job Application
I waited nervously for the sedate elderly man to finish reading my letter of application. With an ailing mother and four younger siblings to support I desperately needed the job, even if it would take me away from home. He was friendly and charming and my hopes rose. But then he enumerated his misgivings. I was far too young, I was too attractive, and it was not the life he would recommend for a young woman. I tried to argue, but the answer was still, no. Regretfully, he could not employ me as a stewardess on the newly-built SS Titanic.
This one was published a few days ago.Flypast
Bill’s nerves were taut as he nosed the Spitfire down the runway, remembering his last flight after the war. But as the plane soared upwards his confidence returned. George had warned him to keep to simple manoeuvres. He circled the airfield to give his grandson a better view. But the manoeuvre sent the plane into a diving roll and it slammed into the ground. Two men raced over to the fallen aircraft, followed by a small anguished boy. Surveying the wreckage, Bill said despondently, “You were right, George. These model aeroplanes can be just as tricky as the real thing.”
Jan, I think I've read them both on the Hippo. I really enjoyed them, but especially Flypast. It's nice to have more posts here. Michael is usually shoring the thread up all by himself at the moment.
Gaff (can I call you a friend? ) Yes, they were both on Hippo.My late husband flew model aeroplanes and his favourite was the Spitfire, so I have first-hand experience lol.
Brilliant. There's nothing like first hand experience to make a a good story work. Keep 'em coming. I only reserve G J for book spines and to make it easier for people to find me. I'm a lot more at home with Gaff.
In a bid to increase the number of people submitting Drabbles and, in an effort to garner more readers of flash fiction, I have devised a small advert for Drabble Week (20th - 25th of July).If you would like to use it on your site/facebook page, please feel free to download it from the link. I think Rosen would be happy to accept submissions that meet the usual criteria at www.BookHippo.uk, but even encouraging some new drabblists here or to drabble pages elsewhere would be a bonus.
https://www.dropbox.com/s/rw3pk7g9kmx...
Oh, and please feel free to contribute ... especially if you've never done it before! I look forward to reading them!
I'd like to point out that this is not being run by BookHippo, it's a Drabble-rousing experience to entice more readers to engage with flash fiction. That said, if you feel like submitting your work to the Hippo, you never know, you might get it published!
A new drabble of mine has been posted in today's BookHippo.uk newsletter - visit them to sign up for a daily newsletter with a drabble and Kindle bargains. If you've writen a drabble then why not send it to them?
You can read some of my other drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
The Pond
It’s hard to go back sometimes. The pond was once my hidden place, my refuge from a world too large to feel comfortable in. I always felt safe and hidden within the trees lining the banks like sentries. The lap of water and the sigh of the wind soothed my fevered thoughts.
Now it’s dark and rotten. A sombre reflection of the person I had since become. Its power to protect had diminished with time’s passing. When I look in the mirror of the water I am not surprised to see that it’s not my face looking back at me.
I caught it today on the Hippo and really enjoyed it. Thanks, Michael.
In the latest Drabbles of the Gods we visit the Mayan civilisation and the death god Kisin.
You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Kisin
After the Upper God created the underworld, Kisin took advantage and slew the higher being. The Upper God resurrected himself and condemned Kisin to the underworld. We feel his fury whenever he kicks and shakes the earth.
He tried again to outdo the Upper God by attempting to create humans in his own likeness. From his failure spawned the existence of some of the totemic animals.
Kisin’s duty is to measures the souls passing into his realm. The sinners are cast into eternal flame and those whose evil deserves special punishment become the beasts destined to serve at his whim.
I'm loving hunting through paintings to pick the next image for the Drabbles of Art series and this week's image 'The Water Ghost' by Alfred Kubin is another wonderful chance find.
You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Water Ghost by Alfred Kubin
They say that there is only really one storm in the world. When it wakes, it rages with all its force until its strength is spent. Then it sleeps awhile and drifts upon the currents in the sky until restored and ready to blast its fury once again.
But very few know the real secret. Only those wise in the ancient lore know that at the heart of the storm is a creature. It wears the storm as its garb, a cloak of wind, rain and lightning.
Even the wisest of us don’t know why it hates us so much.
Some nice stuff there, Michael.Have you all had a go at a drabble for next week? See Gaff's idea above - message 861. I have and I'll submit it next week. I might have more inspiration over the weekend too.
I'm sure I can put something together.
I'm hoping to have a Drabble or two to share for the week. Let's see how it goes! :-)
I've written another! On a roll. I'll send them to BookHippo next week. We might keep the drabble slot going for a few weeks. :)
There's a few up for moderation this week, Kath. Let's see if we can get 'em rolling in for next week!
Got my drabble into the Hippo early. So I get the rest of the week off, right?Cat About the House
by Richard Martinus
“Did you notice your cereal bowl smelled awfully nice this morning?”
“What? Uh… sure.” (What the hell's she done now?)
“Really? You're not just saying?”
“Honest. The aroma was, er, intriguing.” (Oh Christ, what did you flavour my bowl with, you monster? Urine? Dead birds?)
“I'm so glad you're pleased. I like to help.”
“You needn't trouble.” (Remember that half-chewed mouse head in the goulash? This’ll be something even more revolting. I'll never eat cereal again.)
“Well, I can't hang around chatting. There's some new furniture that needs clawing.”
“Enjoy.” (That's it, cat! I'm trading you in for a tortoise.)
I noticed this - and wish I'd thought of it! Nice drabble, by the way.
Great drabble, Richard. Like Kath, I wish I'd thought of that one! Still, here's Fifteen Men from the Hippo this weekend.Fifteen Men on a Dead Man's Chest
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest. That's how the song goes. I'd have thought that, if you peeled them all away, the last man would have his hands on the treasure, and that's where the trouble started.
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest. I could laugh at it if it weren't so tragic. Standing here looking at the mess of bodies struggling to get up. They'll find out it was me at the bottom in a moment, with my hand on the ball. What a way to end my rugby career: bottom of the bloody pile, and dead!
It Came From The DeepThe subtle ripple announced its presence. The beast was awake. The ripple became a rumbling, groaning sound, shaking me to my core, and a stench filled my nostrils the like of which I had never smelled before.
One great tentacle appeared above the surface, reaching, searching, before plunging back and disappearing. Another crack sounded in the deep, becoming a long drawn out wheeze that reverberated in the wood beneath my feet.
Keeping my wits about me, I clawed at the curtains and threw the windows wide, exclaiming, "Get up you lazy bugger, you're not spending all day in bed again!"
G J (Gaff to my friends) wrote: "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest. That..."Drink and the All Blacks will do for the rest, I expect.
Richard wrote: "G J (Gaff to my friends) wrote: "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest. That..."Drink and the All Blacks will do for the rest, I expect."
Yes, that's the sorry state of the game at present :-(
For this week's Drabble of the Gods we visit Haiti and in particular Loa of Haitian vodou.
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Baron Samedi
He can fool you with his coarse banter and sharp threads. He drinks in the shadows wearing cool shades and the toothiest grin you’ll ever see. If you’re faint of heart then don’t listen to his wiles because his words will burn your face red with shame.
He dwells in the realm of the vodou spirits, but enjoys the human world, especially the ladies. Black magic is as familiar to him as the rum in his glass. The curse on the spirit as common as the curse on his lips.
He is the Baron Samedi and he rules the dead.
Drabble of the Goods?? Not that appropriate to this one :)
Gingerlily - Mistress Lantern wrote: "Drabble of the Goods?? Not that appropriate to this one :)"Good spot - fixed :-)
One of my favourites, Michael. I've always been fascinated by African shamanism. I think it's one of world's last unsolved religious mysteries. Grey drabble.
We return to a biblical theme with one of William Blake's series of paintings from books of the bible. The Book of Revelations has been the inspiration for many a fine horror story, so seems a fitting choice for this latest drabble in the Drabbles of Art series.
You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Number of the Beast is 666 by William Blake
And from the earth rose a second beast, this one horned as a ram. His words moved the world to fall under the sway of the first beast.
He summoned fire from heaven to fall upon the earth. With other great wonders he deceived mankind into making an image of the first beast.
The image was granted life and he slew those who refused their worship. Those who cast their lot with the beast were marked forever.
Wisdom allows you to count the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man, and his number is 666.
We travel to China for this week's Drabble of the Gods and discover Lei Gong, the Lord of Thunder.
If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Lei Gong
Banging his mallet against the drum Lei Gong is the thunder. With the finely honed chisel he punishes the wicked. From flashing mirrors his wife, Dian Mu, casts lightning from the sky.
Once mortal, he now stands as a fearsome clawed creature, bat wings shade his shoulders and a bird’s beak protrudes from his blue face.
He is more than the Lord of Thunder, upon Heaven’s order he hunts those committing crimes in the shadow and spirits who harm living mortals.
Yet despite his great ferocity he can be held at bay by the most base, and pleasurable of actions.
I've done something a little different for this week and that's feature a piece from a contemporary artist in the Drabbles of Art series. When I spotted The Examination by Wayne Marlowe I had to write a piece based on it. His visions of Hell are superb and you can see them on his blog here:
https://waynebarlowe.wordpress.com/ar...
The copyright for this image belongs to the artist and his writing looks interesting too, so much so I've ordered a couple..
If you haven't read the earlier drabbles in the series yet then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Examination by Wayne Barlowe
“And what is it we have here?” the first demon asked. “It’s shaped a bit like us, but puny and malformed.”
“It’s soft and warm to the touch,” said the second. “And there are things inside that crack when I bend its appendages.”
“I don’t like its strange stink,” complained the third. “It smells sharp and rotten like bad food. Fragile too – part of it has fallen off.”
“Well I think it tastes just fine,” opined the fourth. “Here try for yourself.”
“What a peculiar keening noise it makes,” said the fifth as its teeth crunched through skin and bone.
This is the second painting by Zdzisław Beksiński featured in the Drabbles of Art series and his image 'The Plague Piper' provided superb inspiration for today's drabble.
You can check out is other work on his official website here:
http://www.beksinski.pl/
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Plague Piper by Zdzisław Beksiński
First came the dust and it quickly smothered the world. No-one knew where it came from. It blotted out the sun and scoured life from the earth. Many died as the air became too thick too breathe. The old and infirm were the first to die, and they were the lucky ones.
Now we survive underground, but some of us have to go above ground to scavenge. A few don’t return and we hear stories of a presence in the howling storms. It’s preceded by mournful pipes, alien tunes heralding a fate worse than living upon a sand blasted rock.
Really like that, Michael. It's potent art and a fitting tribute!
Thanks - yes it is an excellent image.
In this week's Drabble of Art we travel to Japan to appreciate the ethereal beauty of Hasegawa Tōhaku's screen 'Pine Trees'.
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
Pine Trees by Hasegawa Tōhaku
Walking through the mist transforms the familiar surroundings into the surreal. The pine forest normally fills the valley with its lush, green texture, but in the morning, when the river’s mist hugs the ground in its damp clasp, there is no colour.
Only the endless wall of grey.
Shapes are formless, the mighty trees only recognisable only as I approach them. The damp drains my spirit. I cannot even smell the sap from the trees. The closing mist presses against me, its chill touch absorbing all sound.
But all is transient. The sun rises and the world of colour returns.
The first Festival of Drabbles will start on November 9th and run until the 15th. It will be a week long celebration of drabbles and the art of drabble writing including some of the finest drabblists in the world.
If you’re new to drabbles then they are a form of flash fiction in which the story is told in exactly 100 words. I’ve been a fan of the drabble form since they were introduced as a daily feature in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter (now Book Hippo) a few years ago.
As a writer it’s a challenge of economy and editing to tell a story in so few words. It’s also an excellent way to play with new ideas and to explore areas that you normally wouldn’t. As a reader I enjoy a bite sized tale in those few quiet minutes in the day. They’ve also introduced to me to new authors whose work I would otherwise have missed.
It’s a form that deserves greater recognition and so I’m organising this week of drabble related reading and activities. I already have a plan for how my blog The Cult of Me will contribute to International Drabble Week. I’ll share these nearer the time, and it will include a drabble competition.
How can you help?
First we need to raise awareness for Festival of Drabbles 2015, so if you have access to any of the following channels then please do the following:
If you have a blog or website then post an announcement for the Festival, you are free to use the logo and text for this purpose.
If you are on Facebook then join the event, invites any friends that you think would be interested and share the event on your timeline and any appropriate groups you participate in:
https://www.facebook.com/events/37560...
If you’re on Twitter then tweet a link to this event and if you can use the #festivalofdrabbles hashtag that would be great!
Good TimesTwo Down is impossible, and Fourteen Across is difficult. As for Seven Down, well ... there's no effin way, so that's going to be fun.
Nineteen Across is misunderstood, but Ten Down can't be read. At least Nine Across will be alright. Twenty-one Down doesn't mean zip and Twenty-three across is appalling.
I might have toothache, I may even have arthritis, but I've yet to discover the meaning of Everlasting Life. I didn't have to think about being overweight, and I'm guessing that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.
That has to be one of the most depressing crosswords ever!
"Lock & Key"Paris, city of romance.
At Pont des Arts, lovers tag their appellations to the metal of a padlock, engage the lock and dispatch the key into the Seine to seal eternal chastity.
The municipality, afraid of the weight of love overwhelming the bridge’s tensile strength, removed the pullulating padlocks. Paris was still declared the city for lovers. Chastity belts were now virtual, Selfies their keys.
Hackers picked the padlock of Ashley Madison’s source code and exposed the globally unfaithful.
The Seine didn’t turn to rust with the betrayal.
Paris, city of mistresses and not just separate beds, but separate bedrooms.
For this week's Drabble of the Gods we hop over the Irish Sea to meet Badb. I've taken part of the translated Second Battle of Motura as the basis of this drabble.
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Badb
I am the crow of doom, the mist of war and the screams of the dying.
I shall not see a world that will be dear to me.
Summer without flowers,
Cows will be without milk,
Women without modesty,
Men without valour,
Captures without a king.
Woods without mast,
Sea without produce,
Wrong judgments of old men,
False precedents of law,
Every man a betrayer,
Every boy a reaver.
Son will enter his father's bed,
Father will enter his son's bed,
Everyone will be his brother's brother-in-law.
An evil time!
Son will deceive his father,
Daughter will deceive her mother.
Ooh, dark! Like that!
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Lost Innocence: The Accused (other topics)Azazel (other topics)
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