Over the last month I've had the pleasure of exploring a new blogging community through Lisa Reiter's Sharing the Story. You will recall that I've had some fun with Lisa's Bite Size Memoir Challenge. This week I blog hopped from Lisa's site over to a place called Carrot Ranch, run by a gifted writer named Charli Mills. I don't say "place" lightly here, and if you are hankering for a Western getaway, do visit the ranch.
Charli runs her own challenge, not with memoir but flash fiction. I love how she describes the essence and benefits of writing in this format. For Charli:
. . . flash fiction presents us with stories as flashy and minute as minnows in a stream. Each week I feel child-like in the wonderment of how stories can burst to life and be told in 99 words. Practicing weekly flash within a dynamic literary tribe certainly charges my batteries.
Well, we all need that charge to our batteries, and I find that Charli and Lisa are providing inspiration and direction to me at this juncture. I started this blog to document my progress in writing a memoir for a client. Now that that project is coming to an end, I will be using Memoir Crafter to navigate my own journey with the genre.
This week, though, I have decided to use my post for a shot at the flash fiction challenge. To justify that, I have smudged the boundaries between memoir and fiction by basing my first attempt on a real object, a kind of totem that I treasure. And I doff my hat here as well to the science fiction/time-travel writer, Connie Willis, who, in her novel To Say Nothing of the Dog, has shown me that cats employ a variety of utterances.
The Patrick Cat
The rain stopped. She stepped through to the patio, drank in the scent of quenched earth and creosote, then moved to the Palo Verde tree.Her hand on the smooth, green bark, she looked east. A rainbow crowned Fire Rock Mountain.The she noticed it, the chain, hanging free from a bough. The terracotta winged cat that Patrick had given her was gone.She toed the earth. “Where are you Patrick?” she whispered. “Don’t die on me again.”
A rustle near the rosemary. A cat the color of clay pawed the air. “Meer,” it said. And took flight.Okay that was fun. Now it's your turn. I invite you to share your 99-word flash fiction entry with me in the comment section below.