Although I have not recently been writing this blog per yesterday’s post, I was still writing little bits and pieces here and there. I recently received notification that one of my poems is being published in a book. Here’s proof.
It really is no big deal. People put together these anthologies all the time. They need lots of authors to include so they will all buy the book upon publication. That’s at least one sale per author, but likely more. Yes, I bought a copy for my middle daughter for whom the poem’s about. I know, sucker, right?
After some recent writing disappointments, I was determined to right write more betterer better. My first baby step toward that goal was a micro-fiction story in the humor category. I was pleased with the story I crafted – funny throughout with a twist at the end. And … drumroll please … success! It was selected for publication. You can click here to read it.
However, it was not awarded as the best humor story. The awarded humor story I did not find very funny throughout. In fact, it made me a bit sad. Sour grapes? Perhaps. I prefer to think that it’s my keen sense of humor that presents a high bar to clear to elicit guffaws from me, or maybe it’s my predeliction for fart jokes. Not one in the “winning” story. But what it did have was a twisty ending I didn’t see coming. Kudos to the awarded writer for that ending. Nicely done. You can click here to read the awarded story.
I am quite pleased with my story’s picture, created by AI. I continue to mess around with AI in the hope that I can compensate for my lack of natural intelligence.
I’m working harder than ever to shed work responsibilities as I try to retire, so I can write more. Why? I’m not so sure anymore after getting emails like these.
Can we really trust a contest that calls the 2nd quarter of the year the 3rd quarter? Anyway, I was hopeful of seeing my name among the over 300 listed on the winner’s blog as finalists, honorable mentions, and suspected internet scammers. Nope, unless I forgot that I used my pen name of Seymour Butts.
I don’t mind a good rejection. I think I got used to rejection many years ago while single and dating. As a writer who submits stories for contests, publications, etc., you have to be ready to accept rejection. And what do they always say? If you’re not failing, then you’re not trying. Or, maybe your stories just suck. All the more reason to keep writing to get better.
This recent rejection left me a bit surprised and confused, although that’s a low bar.
I don’t consider myself a good poet. Not at all. I even wrote a poem about how difficult it is for me to write a poem. But this one was different. It flowed organically onto my laptop. Sure, I pecked and poked at it after it was written, but the bones of it were easy and natural for me to write.
The prompt was to write about an experience that changed me or my life for the better. I wrote about adopting our middle daughter. Hers was the second of our three adoptions. Like I stated, the words just flowed onto my screen.
I was pleased when I received word that they chose my poem for publication in an anthology, but I am also pragmatic about it. They need a lot of stories or poems to fill an anthology. I think I am one of about sixty chosen for publication. The more they choose to publish, the more copies they are likely to sell. Yes, I’ll probably be a sucker and buy one for my daughter. Still, it’s nicer to get an invite to a party with the cool kids than not. I’m grateful. I wonder what I should bring. Oh, right, it’s a metaphorical party.
Anyway, my takeaway from this experience is not to force writing. If I do, the result may be a hot mess like my first attempt at a recent micro-fiction prompt. My writing needs to flow like urine from a baby without a diaper on rather than a sad dribble from an old man at a urinal – not to be confused with this sad drivel I used to conclude this post.
Did you know that Mark Hamill played one of the 8 Bradford kids in the TV show Eight is Enough? He left after the pilot to go play some obscure movie character called Luke Skywalker.
But that’s not the 8 I’m writing about. My 8th out of 8 micro-fiction stories submitted to www.curatedmicrofiction.com was selected for publication. You can read it here. It’s not my favorite one I have written. I think I need to escape from the Literary/Creative prompts and get back to my humor roots.
I plan to keep submitting these until my streak is broken, or I find no value in doing them. I currently find them to be a useful exercise in editing. I took a look at the humor prompt for the current challenge and said, “Yuck.” You can read it here. I wasn’t sure where to go with that prompt. This was the first draft of my first idea.
I’ve continued my improbable writing winning streak on the curatedmicrofiction.com website. Sure, this latest one from me was not awarded (more money), but it was published which gets me 10 bucks. I kind of knew this one would not be awarded since I chose the Literary/Creative prompt. I think I provided a suitably creative comic twist at the end, but I don’t think it was literary which connotes serious writing to me. The awarded story in the Literary/Creative category was oozing seriosity.
But still, my winning streak of 7 stories continues on. The current prompts are tough. Nothing jumps out at me. But I have a possible idea for a funny story. Unfortunately, it is for the Literary/Creative prompt again. Ugh.
No, not mine. I wasn’t too fond of my last micro-fiction story, but they published it HERE anyway. Maybe it was a mercy publishing, because I have been faithfully submitting every two weeks. More likely, it was because of the cool AI-generated picture I submitted with the story. Breaking News …
Old Person Uses AI
That’s right, the pic shown with the story was created using AI. I kept revising the description until the pic met my needs. The result is that I no longer am terrified of AI. I have embraced AI and all its benefits. And, oh, what benefits, if you know what I mean. I don’t, so please tell me if you do. Maybe this very post was even written with AI, hmm? Full disclosure … it was not. I don’t want to give AI an even worse reputation because of my shoddy writing.
The fine story referred to in the title of this post isthis one that was published and awarded. Love the twisty ending. But I am working on a story with an equally twisty ending for the current challenge closing next week. It even suprised my wife who knows how any movie will end after seeing the first 5 minutes and before I’ve even started my popcorn. Sure, she knows how the movie will play out, but do we really have to leave after 5 minutes?
Here’s the AI website I used to create the sailboat pic – https://www.fotor.com/images/create. I didn’t pay anything, although somewhere down the line I am sure that I will be asked for money. Try it out. I mean the AI part, not asking me for money.
I alerted you almost a month ago to a writing contest at Weird Little Worlds Press. It wasn’t easy, but I wrote a mostly-coherent sci-fi story of just under 5,000 words involving lizard people and pencil sharpeners. But then came the editing … and the rewrites … and the formatting into their accepted style … and finally the self-doubt. It’s not like the humorous stories I write. It’s easy to tell if a story is funny or not, and I’m pretty self-aware of whether my stories are chuckle-inducing gut-busters (typically not). But writing sci-fi is a new experience for me. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I am learning.
The submission deadline was May 31. The day before I had finished another micro-fiction story that I submitted to www.curatedmicrofiction. And why not? They have published and paid me for every story I’ve submitted. Here’s my most recent one that they liked that I wrote to their sci-fi prompt. Maybe I was practicing for the Weird Little Worlds contest with sci-fi micro-fiction.
So, by the time I finished the submission for Weird Little Worlds Press, I was just tired of writing, editing, etc. Today has been a dreary, rainy day – perfect for writing! And there is a website I had my eye on with a submission due today. But I just can’t. I have cranial writer’s cramp. My brain hurts.
What I can do is plan for the future. There’s a new window open for submissions at www.curatedmicrofiction.com. I have my eye on the Literary/Creative prompt but with a humorous twist. First submission is free! Come join me. And I may be able to use my sci-fi submission to Weird Little Worlds Press for this contest from the Scientologists. Finally, I have a story in my head about a carnival sideshow wild woman that will definitely have to be written before I forget it. For a memory of the most famous of carnival sideshow women, Lydia, click here.
When I wrote my last post, I had no idea that it was my 2500th post until after I published it. I guess that’s somewhat of a milestone unless you discount all the dumb posts, memes, and cartoons. If I just count what I would consider legitimate posts, I’m at 37. I’m not sure if this one will count as #38.
I do find it ironic that my 2500th post was titled “Write Weird.” I started writing this blog to practice writing, and now I’m encouraging others to write weird. How about writing well? That’s kind of a foreign concept for me. Or, is it?
I submitted more micro-fiction to a curatedmicrofiction.com prompt that I blogged about. Rather than loading my 300 words with dad jokes, fart references, and invented words like last time, I decided to change tack.
Last year, I submitted a vampire story to Weird Little Worlds Press for their Playlist of the Damned anthology. They didn’t like my story enough to select it. They were right. It can be better. I’m rewriting it for possible use later, although a rewrite by me may not necessarily make the story better.
It’s time to write weird again. Weird Little Worlds Press has a new anthology they are putting together, and they want new authors. Hey, that could be you or me. The problem is that we only have until the end of this month to submit a story. So, start writing weird. We have no time to lose if we want to place a story in their anthology.
If that’s too soon for you to write 500 to 5,000 words without a specific prompt, try this one instead.
That blog post title may seem odd coming from me, but I think I have a legit reason to ask that question in light of a story that supposedly broke yesterday. Here’s one of the many headlines I have seen.
The full story can be accessed by clicking this link. Other news stories I have read even go so far as mentioning a dangerous “sarcophagas.” Hmm, now where have I heard that invented word before? Oh, right, in my award-winning micro-fiction story. Yes, I broke a deadly sarcophagas story two days prior to all the other stories published yesterday. I knew I should have trademarked that word. It’s true that these other stories contain more supposed “scientific facts,” but I will remind you that mine is the only award-winning story.
I have reached out to numerous attorneys to see if I can pursue any legal action against these media hacks with their copycat stories. Unfortunately, the only attorneys interested in representing me are busy defending Trump in various trials.
As a last recourse, I consulted noted Egyptologist Dr. Steven Martin to see if he could provide guidance. His advice follows.
In a recent post, I promised (threatened?) to share my 300-word micro-fiction short story with you that was comprised of dad jokes, a fart reference, and an invented word. I planned on copying and pasting the story here, but I don’t have to do that now. I received an email stating, “Your story ‘The Sarcopha Guys’ has been recognized by our curation team as exceptional in your category.” Exceptional? Me? What category, fart fiction?
I figured I had an outside chance for one of the $5 awards, but now my comfortable retirement is assured after securing a $60 award. Anyway, enough complaining about winning something. It’s time to share it with the world, regardless of the world’s recalcitrance toward reading it.
Click HERE to link to the page showing the weird prompt and my story that you can then click on to read. After the minute it takes you to read 300 words and ten minutes it takes you to stop guffawing, then click HERE to go to the current challenge. Pick a prompt and start writing. I think the first submission is free. Let’s see if some real writing can challenge my fart fiction. Yes, I do have a story planned in the Humor category. That’s another tough prompt, but somehow I have a story concepted about a librarian that involves flinging mashed potatoes. I think I really need to seek professional therapy.
And they didn’t like it enough, but at least you had a reader. I tell myself that when I get a submission rejected, which is more often than not. At least this one that just hit my inbox was quite pleasant.
They didn’t technically say that my story was well-crafted, but at least that complimentary hyphenated word was included in the rejection email. So, what do I recommend after rejection?
It’s not what you’re thinking. I didn’t pee myself, although I have peed and will continue to pee throughout the day into a proper toilet as I write this. However, I don’t want you to get the impression that I’m writing this as I pee. That would be awkward, standing there with laptop in one hand and my dingle in the other. How would I type? Maybe with my nose, but that would surely result in a mess on the floor. And surely Shirley, my wife, would be upset. Suffice to say that I take breaks while writing to go and pee. In retrospect, I should have chosen a different title for this post.
Anyway, I have PEED – Post Ecliptical Experience Depression. I didn’t drive the 2+ hours to get into the center of the recent eclipse‘s path in order to get the full effect, and now I regret it. Friends did, and they tell me it was dark, eerie, and magnificent. I figured that at 93% coverage by me, it would be magnificent enough for someone of my ilk. I remembered the 2017 eclipse being dark and eerie. Maybe it was cloudier that day. Wasn’t it always a bit cloudier when Trump was in office? It was a perfectly sunny day for the eclipse a week ago, and the result of the eclipse out by me is that it got slightly darker and cooler. That’s it. A big nothing. I hate that the Trump eclipse was more memorable to me. Thanks, Obama.
But my PEED has slowly faded as some good things happened over the course of the past week, and I feel I can write again. Here’s what has helped me out of my PEED.
I’ve been recently using writing contests to finish short stories. I’ve always got a dozen or so half-finished stories rattling around in my laptop. And yes, that is my hard drive, and I am happy to be writing.
Choosing a half-written story to enter into a contest is a great way to get some closure. I finished two short stories recently to enter into this contest I told you about. They were micro-fiction stories I wrote for an event at a local Chicagland public library. I was invited to write to some paintings as artistic prompts for the event. I wrote two micro-fiction stories and one poem. I liked the two mini-stories enough that I expanded them from micro-fiction to fuller stories, but I left both under 1000 words to fit the contest rules. And really, how much more can I write about talking peaches in one of the stories? I could only enter once, so I chose the talking peach story to enter. Duh! There’s still time for you to submit a story. Under 1000 words. Just sayin’.
Anyway, both stories are now in good shape to include in my next collection of short stories. But my first self-published collection of short stories remains unfinished in my mind. It has been only available in digital form and has never been printed. Well, I am determined that the second edition will be available in print. A writing acquaintance advised me that a print version is vital to the success of a book. So, I am re-editing all 16 stories prior to formatting for a printed second edition, including a fantasy story set in a dystopian future.
In parallel, I stumbled across this contest.
Yes, it is that L. Ron Hubbard, founder of the Church of Scientology. Do I still want my fantasy story included in that collection? Yes, please. Take a look at over 2000 reasons.
Zero dollars is a good price to pay to enter a writing contest with actual cash prizes.
Here’s the link to that page. Make sure to read the Submission Guidelines. There is a 1000 word maximum for the flash fiction contest. And you must be at least a free subscriber. One story per submitter per contest. I have two done. Decisions, decisions. Which to submit?
How many do you have written? None? Well, get writing. 1000 words is a piece of cake. In fact, I can write 1000 words about my last piece of cake. You have almost 3 weeks. I will offer free editing, time permitting. Just contact me.
I previously blogged about how anxious I get before submitting any of my written creations to anyone anywhere for any reason. Once I submit, I’m fine. In one recent instance, I became very anxious and agitated after I submitted to the January Storytwigs micro-fiction contest that I blogged about so you could enter. I supplied you a blogplanation of my writing faux pas as the source of my post-submission anxiety and a reason to have a good editor. Well, a reader alerted me that Storytwigs appears to be in a coma on life support. After resurrecting itself for a January contest, the Storytwigs needle appears to be stuck in the January groove. The relaunch may have failed. RIP Storytwigs … again. My apologies to anyone who took the time to write and submit, but it was only 100 words. Most of my grocery lists are longer.
Anyway, it was anxiety time for me again as I spotted this inexpensive contest.
Well, now it’s your turn. It’s short story contest time again. It only costs 5 bucks per story submitted, but this time the story has to be about this picture …
In a word – YES! I’ve come a long way as a writer in the 8+ years since I started practicing writing on this blog. I’ve won a couple awards, been published, and think I’ve improved as a writer. Regular readers of this blog may disagree with good reason.
So, it should come as no surprise that I now use my editor/cousin/godmother/writing mentor less and less. I think I write better now. Who needs an editor? Plus, I feel guilt. I have never paid her a dime for her services. The problem is that even when I send something to her just to read and specifically ask her not to edit, she can’t resist editing. And she’s an excellent, although brutal, editor. She does not pull punches with me. Her editing is outstanding, and I value her general opinion of my writing even more. But still, I don’t want to take advantage of her skills. Sure, I send her a box of orthopedic socks at Christmas, but is that really enough? Probably not. Maybe I should consider a membership for her in the Jelly of the Month Club.
I blogged about a FREE micro-fiction contest. Hey, you writers out there. Yeah, you. Write, dammit. Bookmark that website and enter their next contest. What have you got to lose? I entered. And did I need a professional edit after 3 stories of just 100 words each. Well, 2 stories I wrote were kind of dopey, so I didn’t care about them so much. The third story I kind of liked. I thought it had some legs. I couldn’t screw up 100 words, could I? Here it is. You be the judge.
Jim Flanigan Looks at the World 