An introduction by friends.
First date.
Second date.
“Pre-test checklist complete.”
She slid into the driver’s seat, wincing as her shoulder brushed the leather surface. Blood from her hand smeared the shifter. She slid the key into the slot, twisted, and the engine rumbled to life.
First, yes it has been over a year since I last put something here. Things happen, but I’m now in a place where I’m getting active again. Thanks to friends and family for their support.
A few months ago, I stumbled on a form of fiction writing called “drabbles”. A good friend pointed out, after I had posted my “vignettes”, that there was a whole class of writing called microfiction, very short stories. I hadn’t thought about it much since he mentioned it, but I came across an article in a writing magazine I had recently subscribed to that covered the drabble. After doing some digging via Google, and reading some examples of the form, I decided to give it a try.
But what is a drabble? It is a form of microfiction where the work is exactly 100 words long. It is a middle-ground of sorts in microfiction, with the addition of a small bit of formal structure. There are other forms of microfiction. One involves writing a story incorporating a daily topic word posted on Twitter, and the work itself must fit within the bounds of a single tweet. Others include works that are less than 1,000 words, or around 300 words, or even as small as 50 words. The name is a play on the word “dribble”, but since the story can be somewhat more expansive, the name “drabble” was coined.
The idea of microfiction was driven, in part, by an exchange involving Ernest Hemingway. He was challenged to write an extremely small, but complete, story using as few words as possible. He came up with six:
For sale, baby shoes. Never worn.
Those six words can form the core of a host of different stories, some sad, some hopeful and positive. But over time it has become a challenge to other writers: can you write a meaningful story using a modest number of words?
To get myself back into writing, I decided to give this new form a shot. I have a few works I have written that will appear on this site shortly, and I intend to post more over time. I expect many of them will not be very good, but it is through practice that we get better.
One of the common themes of reviews of Greyhound is the lack of character development. This contains potential spoilers while describing a different perspective on the characters in the film.
AppleTV+, in association with Sony Pictures, released Greyhound last Friday. While some might assume the setting, a US Navy destroyer escorting a convoy to England in World War II, might not be the most gripping, the movie tells a tense, suspenseful story, packed into 90 minutes of tension. This is meant to be a spoiler-free review.
A man was born, he lived and he died. There was typically much, much more to the story than that, but for some, that is the extent of their lives. The significance, the value, the meaning, all depends on point of view. Ted didn’t have a very high opinion about his point of view, at least not at the moment.
“I was expecting this to change my life,” said the man as he took the seat across from me. The business class lounge in Frankfurt was, as always, busy, so you took whatever you could get. “I’m so amazed how little for me has changed.”
This piece is what I call a vignette, something not long enough or fleshed out sufficiently to be considered a short story. I use these as writing experiments, allowing me to play with mood, setting, action, dialog, etc. This is the first of several that I will be publishing here over time. I hope you enjoy it.
It was a dark and stormy night. Wind howled in the trees and a shutter banged relentlessly against the side of the house like a half-crazed lunatic trying to get in. Lightning would split the sky like a white hot knife, or backlight the clouds with no warning. Thunder would rattle and shake the windows, doors, clapboard, timbers as it rolled and boiled through the air. This was not a night to be outside. This was a night to be in another town, another country, another continent.
We had our game, 3SB. Before diving into marketing and promotion, which would cost money, we released the game into the world. It was free. And life would intervene.
(This is the final part in a multi-part history of Vintrock. Read Our Origin Story, A Company Is Born, and A Game Is Born for the first 3 parts).
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