CANDILYNN FITE & THE MOST INFAMOUS SKETCH STORIES!

On this day in 1816, the Shelleys, Lord Byron and entourage gathered at the Villa Diodati on Lake Geneva

to tell the ghost stories that would trigger Frankenstein.

This most legendary of storm-tossed evenings was a literary lightning bolt.

Want to become part of another event of legendary import?

Join Candilynn Fite:

http://cfitewrite.blogspot.com/2012/06/1st-ever-follow-my-lead-flash-fiction.html?showComment=1340036392350

and enter her FOLLOW MY LEAD FLASH FICTION CONTEST!

It will be safer than the one hosted by Mary Shelly.

When word circulated that the infamous Byron had taken up residence at the Villa Diodati on Lake Geneva,

one enterprising hotelier installed a telescope in order that his guests might get a close-up of the "League of Incest" --

Byron, Shelley, Mary Shelley, Claire Clairmont (half-sister to Mary, pregnant with Byron's child), John Polidori (Byron's physician) -- in action.

One gossipy note sent back to England from a nearby villa testified to Byron cavorting with "another family of very suspicious appearance,"

though the communicant admitted, "How many he has at his disposal out of the whole set I know not. . . ."

Meow!

{For more details check out:http://www.todayinliterature.com/today.asp?Search_Date=06/19/2012 }


Now, check out Candilynn's 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.

The contest piece may be merely a Sketch Story . Sketch Stories may contain little or no plot.


Have a blast & be creative. :))


**Please copy and paste your entries directly into the comment section of HER post.

THE STREETS OF THIS CITY NEVER SLEPT ...

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."