Tuesday 8 May 2012

Flash Fiction


Do you know what flash fiction is? I thought I did, then I did a bit of research and it seems there is some disagreement about what constitutes 'Flash', concerning word count, format etc. Under 1000 words is what I heard but apparently someone, somewhere, said that 300 is the maximum. It's all pigeonhole bollocks though isn't it? It's like metal heads arguing whether Burzum constitutes NSBM when his guitar tone sounded like a bee not a wasp. Who cares?
'Yeah that's right you Nazi peen, a bee.'


It is my understanding that Flash Fiction is short stories only shorter.

Being a touch compact myself, I have a heightened sensitivity for cool short things and I think short stories are pretty cool. I went to a Flash Fiction workshop run by Femi Martin and she tricked me with her Flash Fiction-voodoo-magic into writing some rather nice stories.

Femi Martin writes and perform Flash Fiction and is grotesquely talented and lovely to boot. She's got a website here www.femimartin.com

Here's one the of things I wrote at Femi's workshop. It's a bit sad. I'll throw another up soon. 

Untitled.

The door to their bedroom is half open and I know they'll recognise my steps on the stairs. I want to go in and speak with them but I'm afraid of what I'll see. I'm afraid of my words sticking or flopping like loosely scrunched paper, somewhere between my mouth and their ears. And they'll look at them, unfolding gradually on the floor, with disdain in their eyes and I will feel foolish, like a smudge or a corner of crust. I dump my luggage and head downstairs, being careful to sound as I normally would. I wonder if the tuna I made on Tuesday's OK, and if I have any bread or salad.


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