Thursday, 17 May 2012

My first flash!

I struggle at times to call myself a writer as I'm still in awe of 'proper' writers - mystical creatures who craft creative gems, gripping stories and fabulous fantasies - all from scratch. (I did love the comment I saw going round twitter this week that if you write you are not an 'aspiring' writer - if you write then you are a writer. Full stop.)
My comfort zone is non-fiction - which of course is still writing and still a creative task albeit you don't (or shouldn't) really make it all up! I have done a creative writing course, which I enjoyed, have various short stories drafted, have a notebook full of ideas, plots and characters, and of course have the ubiquitous half finished novel tucked away (who doesn't!).

But I don't 'do' fiction regularly, don't feel part of that world, and I've never shared what I have written with anyone - beyond tutors and other students on the course I did. I write articles and reviews which I am more than happy of course to be made public but even my current WIP is a non-fiction travel memoir type. However, yesterday, inspired by National Flash Fiction Day and a prompt on Anonymous Legacy, and encouraged by Sarah I took the plunge - the first time I have tried 'flashing' (see what that's all about here) and the first time of putting a piece of fiction up in public on someone else's blog for anyone to see. And, like most things, it wasn't as scary as I thought, or difficult, in fact it was great fun - and got lots of other ideas flowing too!

So thank you Sarah, Angela and the other lovely people who read and commented - you may just have started something now...

And - in another first - here is my 100 word Flash, dear reader, just for you to see!

Her feet slapped the bridge, water spittling out from under each heavy step. She hunched her shoulders under the umbrella as the rain drummed down. Her face flinched as his words spat through her mind. A gust of wind caught the umbrella, she watched it slip from her grip and dance away in the river – free, flowing. Tearing off her coat, the rain's fingers felt fresh on her skin. She climbed the fence, balanced a moment, then dropped. A figure nearby, hearing the splash, came running. She gargled out a laugh. She didn't need saving. She was waving not drowning.

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