Fortnightly update 16: 06.07.2020 to 19.07.2020
In this blog series, I share my fortnight-to-fortnight triumphs (and failures) as a writer. Despite all the ups and downs, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ve decided to get back into the flash fiction game, and I started it strong by submitting an 800-ish-word sci-fi story to Daily Science Fiction this fortnight. I can’t share it here, as that counts as publication, but I’ll let you know how that travels. Wish me luck! For those who don’t know, I started my journey as a writer with flash fiction about three and a half years ago, hence the title “Back to my roots.”
As a gesture to those days, the featured image I used for this post was created by Oliver Ragen more than three years ago for my terrible, terrible flash fiction piece Gods on the Scarp. I forgot how damn cool this illustration was.
I write scripts for the popular World War II YouTube channel The Front. We uploaded two videos this fortnight, as usual, and they were both about the WORST jobs of the Vietnam War.
I write 250-character “stories” using the #vss365 word prompts on Twitter under my own name. I think I used the wrong spelling of “sceptic” for the first one, but who cares? Got a bit weird with the latter two, haha.
They called him skeptic and laughed at him his entire life. How could their rosy little town not actually exist? How could it not be… real? It made no sense at all.
“But who’s laughing now?” he said, folding his arms in the endless white void.
“Who’s laughing now?”
A budding xenophobe, the veins on his brow took angry breaths as he raged and spat about the Visitors to his very best friend, Po.
But Po had been in the very first ship to land. His human suit itched bad, though not even six green hearts were enough to break the news.
The red wine charisma that once had carried him died as he took up the pen. He knew all the words in the world, but in social circles once familiar he was now off-key, stammering sentences he saw so well in his head, heard by only his friends in the pages back home.
She sucked the ocean from the Earth like the outmost layer of a sweet. Then between her molars she cracked open the core, impatient for the molten caramel within. But for her impatience, she cracked also her tooth, and her silent crying clapped out the sun.
Other than starting to write flash fiction again, this fortnight was a pretty normal one, and it’s honestly nice to get my routines back on track. Not much else to say.
Thanks for reading ❤