Showing posts with label flash fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flash fiction. Show all posts

Sunday, 21 June 2015

Where Inspiration Can Lead



Source
Last week, saw the release of my debut novel, The Adventures of Katie Button. It has been a busy week some of which included interviews. And one question kept cropping up; what was my inspiration for the novel? It all started with a piece of flash fiction about a highwayman which I wrote for Five Sentence Fiction. It was my very first short story and I had no idea how important those five sentence would be back then in March 2012. The prompt was ‘wicked’. And it turned out by the comments my piece received, a highwayman is the ultimate in wicked, with a mischievous glint in his eye. I really wanted to expand on that idea which I finally did in my modern day chick-lit (If you want to find out how the highwayman fits in, well you know what to do). :-)

But where did the inspiration come from to write the five sentences in the first place? It came from the narrative poem, The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. I absolutely love this poem. Ghostly description takes the reader on a dark, spine tingling journey, where not a word is wasted as it chillingly teases you to the very end . . . which is what also makes a good flash fiction piece work.

I’m lucky enough to be working with this poem at the moment as it is one of the narrative poems studied in Year5. And it’s that time of year where we are immersing ourselves into The Highwayman as another generation are introduced to his tale. The enthusiasm in which they discuss, act out and predict is tangible and I can't wait to read their own narrative poems. Maybe The Highwayman will be a form of inspiration to a budding writer in the near future like it was with me.

Now, I have my own novel out, which seems to be doing well on Amazon and it’s all thanks to Alfred Noyes and The Highwayman.



http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171940isit The Poetry Foundation to read The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes

Lillie Mcferrin's Five Sentence Fiction

My Highwayman five sentence fiction from the prompt 'Wicked'. 

The Amazon UK link to my novel, The Adventures of Katie Button


A few of the quotes people are saying about Katie Button

Monday, 25 May 2015

The Adventures of Katie Button by Me, Lizzie Koch, is happening!!!!


Back in Feb 2012, I started my blog. I didn’t know what I was getting into when I first wrote about a disastrous journey home. All I knew was, I wanted to write. Then, quite by accident, I stumbled upon Five Sentence Fiction and thought I’d have a stab at it. 


The reaction from the community of writers to my piece inspired me to write more. Friendships blossomed too. I loved this new world of flash fiction!!


In November, 2012, a few writers were taking part in NaNoWriMo so I investigated and thought I’d take part. National Novel Writing Month is a challenge for 50,000 words in 30 days. And, The Adventures of Katie Button was born.


Now, I’m preparing to share Katie Button with you all . . .  in less than 3 weeks,  thanks to my publisher, Crooked Cat Publishing . Exciting times!! But a little nervous.


The launch date is Friday June 12th and I’m having a little online launch party (on facebook) of which so many of you have said you’ll come!! Yay!! Some of you have asked 'what the heck is an online launch party?' Well, it’s a place where you can drop in throughout the day to share and enjoy the launch of my book, leave comments and eat virtual cake! And of course, purchase, read it, and let me know what you think!


With that in mind, I thought it about time I share the blurb with you.
Thank you, all for your support. And I look forward ( I think) to your reviews . . .

The Adventures of Katie Button by Lizzie Koch

What it's about in a nutshell . . .

What happens when your dreams collide with reality?

Katie Button doesn’t believe in soulmates. When charismatic Jack Masterson asks her out on a date, despite him being her new boss alongside his more aloof brother, James, she agrees.

But her romantic dreams about a dashing highwayman, heroic gladiator and Tudor Lord are becoming more frequent. And, more worryingly, they feel real. She remembers every detail, every touch, every kiss. Until she realises the man in her dreams is James.

But Katie doesn’t even like James. And what about Jack, who is whisking her away for sexy mini breaks in the here and now?

Katie knows she needs to put an end to her dreams before they ruin her life.

But how?

Available June 12th

Amazon
Smashwords




Friday, 30 May 2014

Thursday Threads You Know What I Mean?

The drinks came thick and fast yet Lianne wasn’t relaxed despite the row of empty glasses. She’d pay  in the morning, no doubt, but right now, her mind and body needed numbing as she downed another shot.
   “I’m sure Tim would’ve forgotten all about it,” Janice said in a sickly sweet sympathetic voice.
     What did she know? “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lianne sneered. “You weren’t there.”
     “I know but, people have rows all the time, you know what I mean? In the heat of the moment, things are said, you can’t unsay but you can move on. Everything will be fine come morning.”
     Lianne’s hand shook as she picked up a fresh cocktail glass. Nothing was fine and never would be. He said dreadful things, pushed her too far with his accusations of cheating, throwing mistrust at her in the form of a fist. All she wanted was to go out for drinks with Janice, had planned it months in advance, knowing what he was like.
    It was when the second fist came in towards her already bloodied nose, she defended herself, grabbing the first thing she could, hitting him in the forehead. She’d never forget the blank look on his face as his eyes rolled back and a trickle of blood ran down his face before he keeled over, slamming into the floor head first.
   She’d left him exactly where he fell, and as she downed another cocktail, a story had already formed in her mind.

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My first Thursday Threads in I don't know how long!!! Visit Siobhan Muir over at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked for more tales. xx

Tuesday, 8 April 2014

#HorrorBites Challenge A Bag Of heads



“Weirdo,” was the usual  greeting for Sasha as she walked through the school corridors. All she wanted was for someone to call a best friend. But she was alone.
   Luckily, Sasha found a way to have friends.
   Her dolls.
   They travelled with her everywhere.
    Until the school thug, Tony, decided that today he was going to be extra mean. Not content with kicking Sasha’s bag across the hall, he decided to empty it all over the corridor. Deafening laughter followed as Sasha’s dolls tumbled out for everyone to see. Red with rage, Sasha tried to ignore the laughter as she bent to pick up her dolls but not before Tony picked one up and pulled off the head, copied by Ryan and the rest of the gang until every doll was headless. Ryan threw a head at Sasha as the gang walked off, their laughter echoing in Sasha’s ears.
    “I’m so sorry Michelle,” Sasha said softly to one of her dolls. “I’ll fix this.” She placed the dolls in her bag and left.
     Once home, Sasha fixed up her dolls. 
But the magic had gone.
     The next day in school, the halls were peaceful. Tony wasn’t one to hunt without his pack but Sasha approached him.
    “Fancy kicking my bag around today, decapitating my dolls?” She delved into her bag and pulled out a doll.
     Tony blanched.
     “This is my new doll  . . . Ryan. He makes a fine doll don’t you think? While he’s like this, I can bring him back to life but if you do this,” she pulled off the head. Tony wretched, “he’s always going to be just a doll. Shame, for Ryan . . . and you.” She threw the head back in her bag with the rest of Tony’s gang, biding her time for their leader.

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Monday, 17 February 2014

My Writing Process Blog Tour

So when Laura James over at Office Mango invited me to the Writing Process Blog Tour, I automatically said ‘yes’ not actually thinking about what I would have to produce about writing. Gulp! It’s hard enough thinking of the next line in a story let alone thinking how you go about it.
But Laura did  and her entertaining entry. And thanks Laura for the invite. xxx 



My Writing Process


What Am I Working On?


   I wish the answer to this was a simple “I’m working on X” but the reality is, I’m also working on Y and Z too. Writing is like reading. I have three books on the go that I am reading and like wise with my writing. Last year’s Nano novel, which suddenly came to a halt due to a dead laptop, has now found new love/life and a few late nights which is great considering this week is half term. It’s a paranormal romance with a kick ass heroine. That is all I’m going to say on that one.
   Some lovely friends Beta read my Chick lit which I am also in the process of editing. One day, when I feel confident about sharing it with the big, wide, world, I will publish on Amazon.
   My very first attempt of a novel is also being revisited on occasion when I can face it due to the many errors I can’t believe I made!
    And of course there’s my blog I am working on with flash fiction. Often, a short story is the spark to something bigger.


How Does My Work Differ from Others of its  Genre?   


   That’s tricky. I can only go by what I have read. And there is not enough time in the world to have read every book in the genres I write. I guess it’s unusual to write in different genres and not stick to one. Whether this is a decision that will hinder me or enhance my writing, I do not yet know. But I do know I write because I enjoy it, love the characters and know there is a story there. I also know my female protagonists are not just there to be eye candy or fluff. They have purpose, are fun and can definitely look after themselves no matter the genre.


Why Do I Write What I do?


I would like to say ‘because the fairies in the bottom of the garden told me to.’ But it’s a lot less boring than that. Like I said, I always wanted to write but didn’t know how to start. Then, two years ago, a funny thing happened that I just had to share and on Feb 18th (two years tomorrow) my blog was born. It was then I stumbled into flash fiction and this is where ideas grow for feature length pieces of work. Flash enables you to experiment and go places I never thought possible. Only last week, due to the prompt, I wrote my first piece of erotica (very tame). It was well received so I may (when brave enough) expand on it. If I love the characters and there’s a story, I will write it. My venture into the  paranormal was inspired by my son wanting me to write for him, not sure I have fulfilled that though as it’s gone bit gushy. So I will be culling very soon.


How Does Your Writing Process Work?   


Sometimes it doesn’t! It completely leaves me with a blank page for days. So I walk away and enjoy life (usually a walk along the beach, or baking) until something hits me and I can’t wait to get back and write it, noting it down in case I forget (which does happen).  But I tend to be a rather chaotic writer. Too many things going on, notes everywhere. If it comes into my head, I write it. So where my story goes depends on the mood I’m in, the music I’m listening to and something I may have heard either on TV or spoken to me. I have a main plot written down in various places (too many notebooks) but any sub plots are victim to the time, mood and place. I make it up as I go along I guess. If I’m really excited, I will talk it out with close friends which inspires me even more. Often, ideas come into my head during the night. But can I remember them in the morning? I can't be the only one that happens to. There's probably loads of best sellers that have been born and died during the night somewhere in the world.



Thank you for reading and thanks again Laura for the tag. Now I have some people who would like to share their writing process with you. Here’s a little tease until next week ( Monday 24th Feb) for their story. . .



Rebecca Fyfe


An author with stories in several anthologies and collections, is a mother of seven children and, having lost 145 lbs. of excess weight, blogs about health and fitness at skinnydreaming.com. In keeping with her lifetime love of stories, she graduated with a degree in English Literature. She is a Californian who married an Englishman and now resides in Great Britain. Rebecca created and runs the chapter book challenge which runs every March, and, when not writing short stories or children’s stories, she’s busy creating urban fantasy novels, full of her own special blend of magic. She gets her inspiration from her five daughters and two sons. She is the founder of Melusine Muse Press and owns several online gift shops, one of which can be found online at moondusters.com. You can find her on facebook, Twitter and through her blog at Rebecca Fyfe.blogspot.co.uk/ and at maginecreatewrite.blogspot.com




M L Gammella 

M L Gammella has been writing on and off since hight school, where she was often found scribbling in her notebook instead of following along in class. Who knew you had to pay attention in Pre-Cal to understand it? To this day, she still doesn't. 
She put down her pen for several years as she got caught up with college and work, but finally found her muse again after graduating with a bachelors in business in 2010. Her day job as a mortgage laan processor pays the bills while she pursues her love of writing. M L Gammella is currently trying to finish her Nano novels from 2012 and 2013 (she won in 2012). She also participates i several flash fiction contests throughout the week, runs the Daily Picspiration blogspot., and freelances in content marketing. When not writing, M L enjoys travelling, football, cooking, reading and spending time with her husband and three pets.

http://mlgammella.blogspot.co.uk/





Monday, 3 February 2014

Monday Mixer Treasure Seekers






The traipse of soldiers finally reached the river where they could rest. Although a long, tiring and challenging day, they were still at full complement which deserved some celebration especially with skirmishes from bandits along the way.
From across the river, snow capped mountains loomed, looking peaceful before the sun dipped behind the tallest jagged peak. Darkness cascaded upon them, leaving most with a feeling of penitence for what tomorrow would hold.
A thunderous roar ripped through the silence, sending half dazed soldiers scrambling for weapons in the thick, pitch of night, bristling with fear now that the bruits were true about what lurked in the mountains.
Sign up, be a soldier they said. See the world! Go on treasure seeking adventures! Well, that was all good and dandy until the roar of the mountains shattered every illusion that stealing dragon eggs was a good idea for a get rich quick scheme.
      “Don’t worry, settle down lads,” the stupid, corpulent leader said as the roars died down. “There’s enough riches in those mountains for us all to retire on.”
     “I predicate strongly a massacre,” Ronin whispered to himself as he tried to find sleep on his last night on earth.


200




Nouns:         1) bruit           2) traipse        3)  complement

Verbs:          1) round         2) predicate    3) bristle

Adjectives:  1) corpulent  2) penitent     3) euphoric

Thursday, 2 January 2014

No Time For Tears Thursday Threads 102



Haven't written for Thursday Threads over at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked by Siobhan Muir but with a new toy and still in the Christmas holidays, there is no excuse. Hope you like this little tale based on the prompt "No time for tears".


No Time For Tears


Jacob said there would be no time for tears. No time to mourn. No time to remember. But what else did we have if we didn’t have our memories? It was our memories that made us different to them. Them who ravaged everything with a pulse, my beloved Marley the latest victim of the insatiable need to feed.   

An uncontrollable shudder ran deep leaving my bones cold.

I needed to harden up in this new world; Jacob had said that too. And he was right. I wasn’t going to survive with my head full of cupcakes and fairy dust, even though a world filled with cupcakes and fairy dust brought miles of smiles.

I wanted to smile, remember, cry and mourn. I didn’t want to forget who I was just because the earth had turned topsy turvy; the dead now living, the living now dying slowly. Jacob called it survival. But what was survival if you forgot who you were and what made you human? What was the point if the death of a beloved pet didn’t mean anything?

I wasn’t sure this new world was worth surviving in if life was cheap and discarded so easily like yesterday’s newspaper.

The sun started bidding farewell. Darkness was our enemy along with apathy for our own soul it would appear, if Jacob was anything to go by.

I defied the darkness and defied Jacob as I gave way to my sorrow for Marley and made time for my tears.


247

Tuesday, 31 December 2013

The Good, The Bad and The Catasphrophic



I have been pondering this blog post for a few days now; should I write it, would people find it interesting, am I wasting my time, no one is bothered about the the ups and downs of a writer. But the urge to write and celebrate a wonderful year took over and here I am.

It has been an amazing year where my writing is concerned and that's thanks to the fantastic writers I have 'met' on facebook who have become wonderful friends. Firstly, there was the Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower. Who can forget the crazy goings on in the process of a fairy wedding? Who can forget the excitement of creating a gorgeous story for the anthology? 





Two more anthologies followed (see above pic), both raising money for good charities and my stories were included. I'm in print! Yay!!! (I still look at my name in print and can't quite believe it). Both available on Amazon. 

It was on this high that I went full steam ahead into this years NanoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) with the support of the crazy community of writers. I was a Nano Rebel as my story had already started but I still had 50,000 in me as did the story. And that's when the catastrophe happened; my laptop just stopped working. I couldn't access any of my work as the little hole where the cable goes was broken or something like that. There wasn't even any power in the battery to boot it up. And do you know the worst of this sorry tale? Despite months of nagging from Hubby about backing up my work, I hadn't. So over 35k of words for my novel was locked along with all my other work. 
I cried.
I spat my dummy.

My writing career had only just started and had come to abrupt halt. Until Hubby's friend rescued my work which is now stored in various places; external hard drives, sky drive and now google cloud. I think my bases are covered. I just need to learn to use them properly.  

And the writing is back as Hubby bought me a Samsung Chromebook for Christmas/Birthday so happy, happy, happy although very different to what I am used to.  No excuses now for writing and joining in more on the flash fiction circuit. 



 That's where the bad comes in. I have been away for so long, I think I've forgotten how to write! I look at flash fiction prompts and have absolutely no clue. My Daily Picspiration pieces are so difficult and don't flow at all. I apologise for that and will up my game for 2014 especially as the calibre of writing is absolutely wonderful.

Looking to 2014, I am full of optimism. I intend to blog more, write more, share authors more. I also intend to publish my own novel. It's not going to happen unless I make it happen and I have wonderful friends who are helping me make it happen (Lisa ShambrookLaura James and Ruth Long who are now thinking oh darn, forgot about that!) as well as friends who always love my work (Jan, Clare, Toni, Angela, Charlotte, Char, Shelley to name but few). So look out for The Adventures of Katie Button coming soon. 

I have other projects in my head that must escape. So watch out!  

2014 is going to be epic. . . . just saying. xxxx 

Happy New Year folks and to nick/adapt a famous Brucie phrase. . . Keep writing/reading. xx 





    



    

Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Mid-Week-Blues-Buster-Flash-Fiction-Challenge




This piece was written for the mid-week-blues-buster-flash-fiction-challenge-week-01  hosted by the The Tsuruoka files.

The prompt is Freedom accompanied by a song of the same name by Elayna Boynton & Anthony Hamilton which you can check out here.

As with any flash, there are rules: 500 words is target but you can go up to 700 but no less that 300. Very generous and what an opportunity to write something a bit longer that usual.


"The weight of the world was on my shoulders. . . . I'm looking for freedom and to find it it may take . everything I have . . ." The whole song has a melancholy rhythm with lyrics that inspired this short story which at present is untitled.   xxx



The thick rope gnawed away at her flesh with every twist, turn and struggle to free herself, tightening its grip; at times numbing the excruciating pain which was a welcome relief but only fleetingly as the pain seared her flesh to the bone.  Closing her eyes, Narla, as the Blonde One called her, sort solace in her dreams where life was kind, people cared, she could roam free and be herself without recrimination. Those days were another lifetime now and were becoming folklore and fairy tale to her kind just as her freedom became a lost word without meaning.
Fat rain drops fell heavily from the summer sky, trickling off palm leaves, evaporating before her eyes; teasing and taunting Narla as she lay, desperately stretching to reach the precious liquid that lay on a leaf but it was just out of reach. If her wounds didn't end her, thirst would.  She prayed it be quick.
Exhaustion took hold, not even enough energy to stop the wood ants from marching right over her, taking a nibble here, a bite there causing the most agonizing itch that couldn't be scratched.  Rolling over wasn't an option; the binds just tightened, deeper into her flesh, oozing a flow of crimson. Narla could only watch.
She wasn’t sure how many hours she had lain but two nights had passed and she was sure there would not be a third. Where was that fair skinned blonde woman with the kind blue eyes, the soft voice and gentle touch? Surely she would come and rescue Narla from her pitiful fate before The Others did. The Others would jeer, poke, torment at their prize possession for that was all Narla was to them; a possession. Not a soul, a spirit, a life. Not the chance to live to a full age, not the chance to wander free ever again. The thoughts depressed her frail body as she sank deeper into the lush vegetation, as soft as a blanket which would end up being her grave if The Others didn't get there first. . .
Through the thick canopy, Narla glanced up for one last look at the stars, shining down from a clear sky. They gave her comfort as they watched over her in her hour of need. In Narla’s world, each star was a soul looking down and guiding those in need; Narla was in need and she sighed deeply wanting the pain and loneliness to end. She wished The Others understood her needs and shared her beliefs and wished this now to the stars before her eyes closed.  
A rustling awoke Narla and her eyes widened and her heart beat rapidly. Nearer and nearer it came, footsteps towards her, a familiar smell; the Blonde One. Even in the pitch black of the jungle, Narla knew the Blonde One. But even Narla knew she was too late. But a friendly touch to see her through to the end filled her heart. She heard the Blond One’s strange tongue but recognised the anguish in her voice as her hands tried to release the binds.
“What have they done to you my Narla?” The Blonde One otherwise known as Carrie, gently bathed the wounds, gave her water that Narla could not drink.
“I think we’re too late.” Carrie’s tears fell on Narla’s face knowing Jake was right. She stroked Narla’s orange and black fur, still gloriously soft, and thick despite death creeping foreword. Jack sat next to her, the three of them silent in the jungle.  No words could make this situation better or change the inevitable but Carrie knew her touch soothed Narla. She would not die alone.
Narla knew the end was in sight. She raised her head, nuzzled Carrie before letting out one last gut wrenching roar, so powerful, the forest floor shook. A sleeping jungle came to life as if they knew one of their own was gone, singing, howling their mournful song as Narla began a new journey where freedom would be guaranteed; up among the stars as they shone down, listening and offering help where needed and guiding those who deserved it.   

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