twitter fiction

Here is a list of my Very Short Stories that I've been posting on Twitter this week for the Twitter Fiction Festival!

• Emotions ran deep as the ocean. Only two possible things can happen: sink or swim.
• “The first snowfall is always the prettiest,” he told her. “Until it gets mixed with dirt and turns to slush.”
• “Bundle up, its cold outside.” She smiled, nodded, knowing that would never help her cold heart.
• She was shy. Afraid of something new. Different. “You’ll never be great without taking chances,” she told herself.
• “Hi there,” she greeted. “Hello,” the older couple smiled back. “Have a nice day.” They had no clue. That hurt her.
• I crawled. I walked. I ran. I jumped. I flew. I fell. You caught me.
• It was bright, blinding almost. Yellow, orange, pink and red. The sunrise appeared so gentle, yet deceivingly burned so hot. 
• His voice is gentle, soothing. My own personal lullaby. It’s the first and last sound I wish I could hear every day.
• A smooth sphere covered in subtle bumps made for grip, which I know oh so well. The feel of a basketball is one I could never forget.  
• The smell of fresh air. The smell of a basketball gym. The smell of home. The smell of him.  There isn’t a feeling I love more.
• We were in the middle of nowhere. The water began to taste like rust, reminding me of blood. I then realized, it’s hopeless.
• She gazed at the city through the window of her small one bedroom apartment, wondering, is this is?
• We all have a choice. To let our past make us better, or bitter. He chose neither.
• She got tired of the tears. Tired of the heartache. The day she’d had enough, he finally began to notice. To care.
• All she ever wanted was to do good by her own means. Karma, she believed, would take care of the rest.
• “Don’t worry about what you can’t control. Instead, focus on what you can.” She couldn’t tell the difference. That worried her.
• The sadness in his eyes showed somewhere he’s been that would never allow him to see the world the same.
• Her biggest problem was how cold her water tasted after chewing mint gum. He hasn’t had a single thing to eat all day.
• “What are dreams?” “Dreams are anything you want them to be. Places you’d like to go. People you wish to see.”
• As he aligned his feet, bent his knees and set his arms, thoughts of doubt flooded his mind. With a flick of the wrist – he missed.
• He was the last man on earth. He heard a knock on his door.
• She gave him her heart. He gave her his heart. He took it back. She was left empty and cold, with nothing to keep her going.
• I walked the long smooth road, to be sure no unexpected bumps or cracks could set me off course.  I regret it.
• He kissed her forehead, turned, walked away. Never look back, he told himself. There’s so much more for me. But he was not convinced.
• “Why do bad things keep happening to me?” “To prove that you’re worthy of all the good you cannot see,” a voice he didn't recognize.
• He gazed upon the same ocean, the same way they always had. It really was a completely different world without her by his side. 
• She awoke smiling, happier than ever. Her soldier was coming home. Lonely was another night, crying herself to sleep.
• The beautiful sunrise gave her a glimpse of hope. Until she remembered what day it was. No other pleasant thought crossed her mind.
• She sat innocently, alone in the corner of a local coffee shop, wondering if anyone knew what she had done.
• “Having money isn't everything. Not having it is,” the man said to himself, finally comprehending the importance associated with it.

writing reflection #9 / twitter fiction check-in

                It’s hard to say how close to “done” that my Twitter Fiction story is. I started off with a few one tweet stories, thinking that would be much easier. Only, I ran out of idea quicker than I was expecting, and found it much harder selecting words that could really get a message across in a short 140 characters. Which is why I began writing an extended story instead. However, with an extended story, I’m not too sure how to get my message across or how to complete the story within approximately 30 tweets. Honestly, Twitter Fiction is just not for me. I find both extremes are difficult.

                On another note, I feel as though I’ve included most of the criteria on our Twitter Fiction To Do List. Dialogue seemed to be the easiest, whereas imagery I’m finding a little more difficult. I also chose to write my story in first person narration, which makes it easier to get feelings across to the reader. I personally feel that we can be much more accurate in describing what we see, feel, hear, smell or taste, compared to someone else trying to interpret our take on those same things. Also, I’m realizing that I should probably start thinking about images I’d like to attach to my tweets to further the visuals in the story. Overall, my Twitter Fiction is beginning to come along nicely. However, there is still quite a bit of development and editing to finish.

                Once everything is complete and our tweets are organized in complete stories, I’m curious as to how we will be posting our work. On our blogs? On Twitter? If we actually are posting them as tweets, in what order? They would have to be backwards in order to make any sense – starting with the last tweet in our stories, making our way to the very beginning. They’ll also be interesting to read.

I'll be strong (10)

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." - Martin Luther King, Jr. (1963)

"Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength." - Michael Jordan


The two quotes above may not seem too relevant to one another. To me though, they mean nearly the same thing. Revolving around the idea of determination, persistence, and strength. Which I believe are such important qualities to have. However, they're not developed and cannot be measured, by all the things that come easily to us. It's the challenges and the struggles we push ourselves through, that force us to grow, that develop our character. Often, the most difficult things to achieve are the most rewarding.

looks can be deceiving (9)

I always take two buses to and from school, transferring downtown where there are all sorts of people. One day last week, I was waiting in the bus shack for the bus where I normally do, when an old women sat next to me. She showed me a loonie and said she didn't have enough for bus fare. I honestly don't think I have ever personally given a stranger money. Until that day. Even now, I'm not really sure how I feel about it. 

The crazy thing is, we never really know anyone's story. Where they've been or the things they've seen. It's almost impossible to tell whether someone really needs and wants our help, or if our contribution is actually worsening their situation by their own means. Looks can be deceiving. However, that's no right to judge.

reading & writing reflection #8

Reading Reflection:

Book: The Help

Author: Kathryn Stockett

Pages Read: 100-125

                I had just finished reading The Book of Negroes, which I loved. So I decided to follow up with another novel – The Help – confronting a related issue. The idea of racism and discrimination is a really touchy subject that I’d find hard not get into or to feel passionate about. Like many of us, I feel strongly against is. And although there is much more equality today than there has been previously, it is still an issue in society.

                What I found really interesting is when Aibileen, a coloured maid, points out the fact of white people despising blacks so much, yet they still hire them to look after their own children. The black maids and housekeepers raise their children, who turn out just fine, yet the whites still have such disrespect for them. Miss Skeeter also mentions that idea later on. The irony of it all. She understands how it is to be raised by a coloured woman – how simple it can be and how complex it can be. However, I really like Aibileen’s point because in reality, it makes no sense. The fact that some people can decide someone is lesser due to the colour of their skin is unreasonable and illogical. It’s ironic, how someone can be raised by a person and grows to love them, until one day that person becomes exactly like the rest and starts to see things in black and white, disregarding all they’ve ever known of the person they grew to love. 

Writing Reflection:

                When we were first introduced to Newspaper Blackout Poetry, I wasn't too fond of the idea. We're just supposed to for words? Single out the ones that stand out? That almost sounds too simple. Then you need to string them together, in order to actually create a story or a meaning. Yeah, that makes more sense. There's always a catch. We also need to be more cautious of our word choice, in order to get the message across. Since we're using such few words (generally), it seemed easier to use clear, precise words.

                What I found difficult though, was how we're not supposed to read the article or pay attention to the content, but simply scan for words. That was hard in the beginning. However, like anything else, once we get going we get the hang of it and ideas come more naturally. So the whole process did become easier. Fun, even. After creating my own Newspaper Blackout Poetry, I find the concept really neat. How we're really subtracting words, rather than adding them. 

                It's an awesome way to get yourself to think outside of the box. Personally, I found creativity within myself that I didn't know was there. On another note, something that came as a surprise to me was how naturally a theme came across for my three poems. When we were told that they all had to be a part of a theme, I couldn't see that happening. I thought I would have to write a ton before finding a trio that related. Then, to my surprise, it all unfolded perfectly. Newspaper Blackout Poetry is easily my favourite writing form we've done so far.