Hello Blogging World, it’s me again.
Now, in my first post I discussed the issues I have when writing. They are numerous, variable and an ever changing source of frustration. That being said I thought I’d actually post some of my creative writing.
This is the first and only piece of flash fiction that I’ve ever completed. I (mostly) used the guidelines I found on Holly Lisle’s website: I can’t seem to find the original but the instructions amounted to something along the lines of “Write, Keep Writing, Don’t Edit, Finish, 500 words.” This exercise isn’t to be confuse with her How To Write Flash Fiction That Doesn’t Suck mini-course. Though, I highly recommend the free course if you want to get some practice and feedback, if you’ve never written a flash fiction piece, or want to hone your skills.
Given my writing issues, how did i manage to finish this? I was actually editing a friends short story; using my critical eye to seek out awkward sentences and offer alternative wording unlocked that part of my brain that hides behind the blank wall. A shapeless thought was percolating so i hopped into the shower to let it brew. While I was singing white rabbit and shampooing my hair I fell into a bubble of contemplation.
I got out of the shower and I wrote.
I did not think.
It might seem contrary to not think while writing, but for me I find that in the first spew of creative flow i need my conscious mind to take a back seat and stop micromanaging. when you’re done you can edit, you can read aloud, you can argue word selection with yourself.
But first comes voice. I posted Getting Smaller here on my Wattpad account. Since i’s a short piece I’ll post it in it’s entirety here as well. Let me know what you think friends.
She looked at herself in the mirror, sure that the answers she was seeking were hiding just behind the tired grey eyes that gazed back. Maybe there was something in the golden petals that floated in the storm–they seemed to know where they were going, comfortable in their even spacing. Were they afraid of the black holes they framed, or were they eager for what they knew waited within their depths? She cast a pensive look at the pills on the sink ledge.
She felt larger than herself, almost free with possibilities, though restricted in her choices. One direction led to herself and the opposite led to her other self. The question was whether she would still be herself or whether she would be lost entirely in the other self. Sometimes she was overwhelmed with how big she became when she spread out entirely. When she stretched out her fingertips and brushed the edges of the sky, she felt she could pull her head over the wall and breach someone else’s darkness.
If you were someone else could you still be yourself? And how could you connect with others if you weren’t? They said it would ground me, bring me focus and function. I wouldn’t be so lost. It would make me smaller. It would be easier to fit. She wondered if she’d even fit within herself. What would be lost when she shrunk?
“Is it better to be Big, to be everything and risk wandering away,” she asked. “Or is it better to be small, to just be what was contained, and risk not feeling?” There was no answer, no sound but her uneven breathing.
She didn’t know why she bothered consulting with herself–it only brought up more questions. There weren’t any answers in the little yellow specks in her eyes. There was no decisiveness concealed below lowered lashes. There was only veiled glances and pleading “I can’t help you!” Alice shouted. Her heart broke for the girl in the mirror as her hope fell through her stomach, slipped past her feet, and dropped with a plop to the floor. She winced at the bitterness of the powdered coating on her tongue and quickly chugged the water to drown the taste, chasing it down her throat.
Alice swallowed and sighed. “Maybe I’m meant to be small” she whispered to herself as she walked to her room and climbed into bed. “After all, sometimes being so large is very tiring.”
“But just in case,” she smiled as one arm hugged her knees to her chest and the other slipped the broken half of the pill under her pillow, “maybe I’ll only take half,” she compromised.