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Sfumato!
Candilynn Fite is holding a UNIQUE BLOGFEST:
http://cfitewrite.blogspot.com/2012/06/1st-ever-follow-my-lead-flash-fiction.html
FOLLOW MY LEAD FLASH FICTION blogfest:
The contestant's entries will be judged on his or her ability to follow the prompt provided, and the writer's overall creative expression. Excited yet??
The contest piece may be merely a Sketch Story . Sketch Stories may contain little or no plot. Click on link to discover more about Sketch Stories and famous authors who wrote them.
Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Check out the deets! (Rules):
~ Entries must be original work of the writer.
~ Only one entry per contestant.
~ 300 words or less.
~ The piece must follow the prompt provided, but may sway in any direction.**See note below
~ The contest piece should be written about the image, in some form or fashion.
~ The prompt should be used in the story and included in word ct.
Have a blast & be creative. :))
**Please copy and paste your entries directly into HER comment section of the post.
To get into the spirit of her contest, here is my take on it (Just as an example):
(250 words)
The streets of this city never slept. Not for the living. Not for the undead. Nor for me. I stand halfway between the two.
I am Captain Samuel McCord, cursed with the blood of the Angel of Death in my veins.
New Orleans has been called a Twilight City, for it rises from civilized slumber to bustling life at night.
Performers often line the streets, pushers sell their brands of death, prostitutes promise sex as if it were love, dancers weave through the partiers on the street, and music throbs through the veins of the French Quarter.
The undead walk lazily down streets in front of buildings dating back hundreds of years. In that sense, they are at home. It is you, the living, that are intruders here.
An odd feeling came over me as I looked at the people, living and undead, strolling the dark streets in search of ... entertainment. For a fleeting moment, I saw the overgrown square of trees and brush it once had been.
I remembered when I had been young, when every moment had been crisp and fresh, where happiness and heartache had quickly changed positions, and life was full of hope and promise. Now, things were crowded, ugly, and the only hope was for a good death.
What had Elu, my Apache blood brother, once told me? "When you were born, you cried and those around you rejoiced. Live your life, Dyami, so that when you die, those around you will cry, and you will rejoice."
Candilynn Fite is holding a UNIQUE BLOGFEST:
http://cfitewrite.blogspot.com/2012/06/1st-ever-follow-my-lead-flash-fiction.html
FOLLOW MY LEAD FLASH FICTION blogfest:
The contestant's entries will be judged on his or her ability to follow the prompt provided, and the writer's overall creative expression. Excited yet??
The contest piece may be merely a Sketch Story . Sketch Stories may contain little or no plot. Click on link to discover more about Sketch Stories and famous authors who wrote them.
Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Check out the deets! (Rules):
~ Entries must be original work of the writer.
~ Only one entry per contestant.
~ 300 words or less.
~ The piece must follow the prompt provided, but may sway in any direction.**See note below
~ The contest piece should be written about the image, in some form or fashion.
~ The prompt should be used in the story and included in word ct.
Have a blast & be creative. :))
**Please copy and paste your entries directly into HER comment section of the post.
To get into the spirit of her contest, here is my take on it (Just as an example):
(250 words)
The streets of this city never slept. Not for the living. Not for the undead. Nor for me. I stand halfway between the two.
I am Captain Samuel McCord, cursed with the blood of the Angel of Death in my veins.
New Orleans has been called a Twilight City, for it rises from civilized slumber to bustling life at night.
Performers often line the streets, pushers sell their brands of death, prostitutes promise sex as if it were love, dancers weave through the partiers on the street, and music throbs through the veins of the French Quarter.
The undead walk lazily down streets in front of buildings dating back hundreds of years. In that sense, they are at home. It is you, the living, that are intruders here.
An odd feeling came over me as I looked at the people, living and undead, strolling the dark streets in search of ... entertainment. For a fleeting moment, I saw the overgrown square of trees and brush it once had been.
I remembered when I had been young, when every moment had been crisp and fresh, where happiness and heartache had quickly changed positions, and life was full of hope and promise. Now, things were crowded, ugly, and the only hope was for a good death.
What had Elu, my Apache blood brother, once told me? "When you were born, you cried and those around you rejoiced. Live your life, Dyami, so that when you die, those around you will cry, and you will rejoice."
What a wonderful piece of flash fiction :-) Going over to check out the contest!
ReplyDeleteAnd the prize is the best part!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Angela:
ReplyDeleteSamuel just tipped his Stetson to you and smiled.
Alex:
That is very kind of you to say. Thanks, friend.
...the legendary Sam McCord returns, whispering tales of the undead, staking their claim on the city that never sleeps, (nor has any need to ;)
ReplyDeleteWell done, Roland.
El
Thanks, Elliot:
ReplyDeleteThat means a lot coming from you. This was just an example, mind you of what Candilynn wants.
Since the prompt was the French Quarter, I couldn't resist putting Samuel on them again! :-)
You're simply the best, Roland! Two plugs for my contest in one week?? Yes, I agree with Alex. The prizes are the best part! (Although, I have to hand it to my strengthening computer skills for making my own badge. :) )
ReplyDeleteMcCord had to be in your example. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way!
Haunting image I chose.