fiction

The Deal: A Flash Fiction Piece

I had received a D on my science test. My teacher, Mrs. Wellington, had given me extra help prior. But for some reason, biology ended up a weakness of mine.

            I considered it strange since I had enjoyed studying animals growing up. I would read about them, talk about them, and beg my parents to take me to zoos and aquariums.

            I entered my house. My mom got off the phone.

            “Jade, we need to have a talk.”

            I sat with my mom.

            “You promised me straight A’s for all of ninth grade.”

            “I’m sorry,” I said.

            “I think I’m going to have to make you miss your class trip to Ocean Life Park.”

            “No!”

            “You want to have fun, you need to maintain good grades.”

            I covered my head.

            “All right, if you really want to go, here’s the deal. You get A’s in all your classes for a week. Plus, you do every chore exactly as I ask. No mistakes. If you do everything right, I will let you go on that trip. If not, you are going to miss the trip.”

            I gazed at my mom. “Deal.”

            “Good. Now can you wash the dishes, please?”

            “Yes.” I stood up and rinsed each one. My shirt got soaked along with my hair. Nevertheless, I continued.

            After drying the dishes, I went to my room and did my homework. My mom knocked on the door.

            “Yes?”

            She opened it. “Jade, you forgot a knife in the sink.”

            I gasped. “No, I… I couldn’t have.”

            “Come see for yourself.”

            Gulping, I followed my mom downstairs. We entered the kitchen and approached the sink. Yup—one butter knife remained.

            “I guess you’re going to kiss that trip goodbye.”

            “Mom, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t see it.”

            “We made a deal. We’re not going to break it.”

            The phone rang. My mom answered it. I stared and breathed. It couldn’t be my dad on the other line.

            “The trip is cancelled?” my mother asked.

            “No,” I said.

            My mother remained on the line.

            “Oh, okay.” She hung up. “Jade, your school trip to that ocean place has been canceled.”

“I knew it.”

“The deal is broken.”

“I sighed.”

“But we can consider going there as a family… for dad’s birthday.”

I grinned.

fiction

Friends for a Party: A Flash Fiction Piece

I looked forward to my eighteenth birthday party. It would happen in two weeks. We would host a movie night at my house.

            I’d sent out the invitations yesterday via snail mail. Why? Because I didn’t want anyone to see who else had been invited.

            Now that might sound harsh. However, my best friends, Sophie and Danielle, had fought last week. Danielle had done something to Sophie that had led to Sophie blocking Danielle in every form of communication. Sophie had messaged me on Facebook saying that she never wanted to talk to Danielle again.

            I had said nothing. I mean—I was about to come of age. Why should an adult have to put up with that drama?

            I received a phone call from Sophie. Sighing, I answered.

            “Hey, Candace, I got your invitation to your party.”

            “Okay.”

            “You didn’t invite Danielle Josephson, did you?”

            I said nothing. I could not think of any answer that would keep Sophie from getting upset.

            “Candace, are you there?”

            “Yeah, I’m still here.”

            “So aren’t you going to answer my question?”

            “I… I…”

            “You invited her?”

            “Well, I’m friends with her too.”

            “Are you kidding me? She was driving me crazy.”

            “I’m sorry. But that’s not my problem.”

 “Candace, how could you?”

            “Well, I can’t un-invite her.”

            “Whatever. I’m busy that day, anyway.” Sophie hung up.

            I looked down. I should never have to choose between friends. I shared an equal level of friendships with both Sophie and Danielle.

            I received more messages. My other guests responded. Most said that they could come. A few said they were unsure.

            At least I had friends who cared about me as well as each other. Because this was the last time I could celebrate my birthday with them. Then we’d all go off to college.

            I focused on the others and suppressed Sophie and Danielle’s situation in my mind. If neither could come, that didn’t matter. Those who were willing to celebrate with me mattered more.

fiction

Fiona: A Flash Fiction Piece

I didn’t mean to hurt her. I should have known that this other girl had a disability. I realized that some people with disabilities did not respond well to yelling.

            The girl’s name was Fiona. Fiona had interrupted me with some thought going on inside her head while I’d talked to my friend, Juliette. She’d spoken about something that happened at a game she’d seen. She’d done it over and over again until I snapped at her, saying, “Fiona, stop it! You’re being so freaking annoying! Go away!”

            And right that second, Fiona had burst into tears. Another kid had said that Fiona had some disability. I had flushed after.

            I now sat at my desk and did my homework. For health class, we had to research a disability. I was assigned Asperger’s Syndrome.

            As I pulled up the Internet on my computer, I received a text message. It came from Juliette.

            Hey Mandy

            Fiona just told me she was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome over the weekend. She was too afraid to tell you.

            I opened my mouth. I had not yet researched the symptoms of Asperger’s Syndrome. But maybe that explained why she had had trouble with understanding my feelings. Why she had been desperate to get her thoughts out. Why she had cried when I’d yelled at her.

            When I did the research, I saw that people with Asperger’s can be eager to let their thoughts out as well as emotionally sensitive.

            After finishing my homework, I texted Juliette back.

            Tell Fiona I am sorry for yelling at her. Thanks.

            I sent the message. Hopefully, Fiona would forgive me.

Writing

How I Develop My Characters

Characters come in all shapes, sizes, personalities, and much more. So do the ways they are developed.

Many writers base their characters of real people they know. They also develop them like the folks they know.

Want to know how I develop my characters? Yes? All right. Here I go. I often develop them as I develop my storylines. I get to know them as I draft. I unconsciously develop them through other story elements too, like dialogue and actions.

Now these are not the only ways I develop my characters. Sometimes I plan their personalities, even if the characters don’t make it to the final drafts. I also might base them off other fictional characters from other franchises, sometimes myths and legends. For example, in one of my works, there’s a character inspired by the Grim Reaper.  

Unlike many authors, I never really base characters off people I know. However, I do often develop them like those in my lives. This was especially common in my earlier works, when I was still learning how to develop my characters. I developed a couple like my cousins at that time and one like my brother back then.

Remember, there is no one-size-fits-all way to developing characters. It is, however, important to make your characters believable, round rather than flat, crucial to your story, imperfect (they should have at least some flaws), and change at the end of your tale. This is especially essential for you main or major characters.

This technique also takes a while to learn. It took me, like, seven years to discover my writing voice. A similar amount of time might happen for you if you’re new to creative writing.

If you search for me on Amazon, you’ll see that I have published five books, but only one is for sale. That is because the others weren’t exactly the strongest. Except for one, I did pretest the others to make sure they were good enough to please strangers. They were. But I felt the novels could’ve been better.

So hang tight as you learn to develop your characters. If you need assistance, there are character development worksheets you can find online and use to answer questions about your characters. Sometimes I’ve interviewed my characters, answered questionaires about them, or even wrote short stories from their points-of-view. This might help you. Something will.

Writing

When You Unconsciously Use the Plot Structure in Any Story You Write

I’ve been studying the writing craft for years. It was seven and a half years ago when I learned the right rules of creative writing. It took about that long to hone my skills and mature my creative writing abilities to what they are now.

However, before I studied the craft, I wrote a bad novel that I was dying to publish and convinced my parents to let me do so. When it was published, there was no positive feedback. However, I do realize now that I still included the classic plot structure, which I wasn’t aware at during that time. I continued to use that structure in later novels where I studied the craft.

What is the structure, you may ask? It starts of with the inciting incident, where something greatly changes your main character’s situation and sets him or her up on a rough road to achieve his or her goal. Then there is a call to action, and the main character often refuses it at first. Then he or she will accept it.

Next comes the first plot pinch, which sets your main character up for failure. Then there is the midpoint, which can be a major defeat or loss. That will push the protagonist’s struggle to achieve his or her goal even further. There will be complications and higher stakes, which will lead to an all-is-lost moment, where the antagonist wins at that time.

Then comes the climax, where something prepares the protagonist for the final battle (not always literally, though). There may be a ticking clock too, where the protagonist’s time starts running out. Finally, there is the resolution of denouement, where the main character has come somewhere satisfying. He or she may achieve his or her goal. If not, he or she may realize that the goal was not something he or she had wanted all along or something not right for him or her.

And no matter what story I write, usually novels, this plot structures comes out into my writing unintentionally. I don’t know why, though. It’s like my brain has somehow inserted the plot structure into its subconscious or something. But that’s probably a good thing.

No matter where you are in the writing process, whether you are new or experienced, it’s important to know the plot structure. Any successful work, written or visual, needs to follow this structure.

Writing

Plot Hole Problems: Why They Bother Me (and Others)

Plot holes happen everywhere: movies, TV shows, books, and so forth. Even the top writers end up making plot holes, either as inconsistencies or unanswered questions.

Of course, no one ever means it—at least not usually. Even when they are being reviewed by agents or anyone before the works get released to the general public, plot holes are missed. It often isn’t until after the works are available to the public that the plot holes are pointed out. Sometimes, shortly after, and other times, not till several years later.

Obviously, no work is perfect nor do any please everybody. But some plot holes bother certain people a lot. There are examples in some of my movie critique posts, like “The Little Mermaid” and “Aladdin”. The ones where I spend a lot of time expressing my thoughts are the ones that bother me the most.

A plot hole I have not addressed here before is from the book, “Being Julia”. It’s not a super-big bestseller. But it was good and engaging up to a certain point. Julia gets grounded and has her computer confiscated. She tries to convince her dad to give it back to her shortly after, even though he won’t. When she is no longer grounded, the reader doesn’t get to see her getting her computer back. Another situation is happening. Then the next chapter takes place months later, when Julia is getting ready for college. Um… hello? When did she get her laptop back? This unanswered question plagued me so much that I wrote to the author and asked when Julia got her laptop back. Sadly, the author didn’t answer. So I moved on.

Some people will address plot holes later or separately. A good example is J.K. Rowling. These days she has been answering so many questions about plot holes in “Harry Potter”. Some folks, like me, enjoy that. Others, however, find it amateurish and lazy. I could see why.

While there are some plot holes in works that don’t bother me or I don’t care about, there are still some that will plague me for a while. A YouTube channel, called Cinemasins, is known for pointing out flaws in movies, such as plot holes. Because I watch movies with a critical eye, I enjoy this channel. I discover issues that I didn’t realize before.

Remember that nobody is perfect. Pretty much all works will have plot holes. Some may be addressed in sequels or on separate sources. Others will remain unanswered forever.

fiction

Job Opportunities: A Flash Fiction Piece

I sat on our summer home porch. Night fell as I stared at my father’s submarine. He lost his life from a bee sting two days ago.

            My mother came out and removed her diamond ring. She sat with me. “Sarah, we’ve got to give up this house.”

            I opened my mouth. “What?”

            “I don’t think I can afford it anymore.” My mom sniffled. “I don’t even know if I can hold a job much longer.” She burst into tears.

            I petted her back. “I’m already sixteen. I can try and help support our family.”

            “No, you can’t.”

            “Holly recommended a position for me at her orchard last week.” I referred to my best friend. “I can make this work, Mom.”

            My mom breathed. “If you think so.”

            “Thanks.” I stood up and returned inside. I packed my belongings. Tears stung my eyes as I thought about my dad. Who would take his submarine? And would we ever get this summer home back—or any summer house in general?

            After I finished packing, I followed my brother, Timothy, downstairs.

            “Sarah, is it true that Holly is going to give you a job?” Timothy asked.

            “She said she might.”

            “How do you know you’re going to get it?”

            “Well, I have known Holly since kindergarten.”

            “That doesn’t mean anything.”

            “You’re only twelve, and you met your best friend in third grade since he was new then.”

            “Why does that matter to you?”

            “Because I’ve known Holly longer!”

            Timothy stared at me. “Gee, Sarah. You need to relax.”

            “I can’t. Not without Dad.”

            “Please stop.” Timothy’s eyes watered.

            My phone rang. I answered to Holly.

            “Hey, Sarah, sorry to hear about your father.”

            “Thanks, Holly.”

            “Anyway, I’ve got some bad news too.”

            “What?”

            “The job I offered you isn’t available anymore.”

            I gasped.

            “My cousin took over it.”

            “Holly, how could you do such a thing?”

            “We needed someone as soon as possible.”

            “B-but—”

            “Sorry, Sarah, but you’ll just have to look for something else.” Holly hung up.

            I looked down and sighed.

            “I told you,” Timothy said.

            “Shut up!” I inhaled and exhaled.

            My mother returned inside. “Kids, are you all packed up and ready to go?”

            “Wait, we’re moving out tonight?” asked Timothy.

            “Yes,” said my mom. “Sarah, did you hear from Holly?”

            I nodded. “But she gave the position to someone else.”

            My mom gasped. “No.”

            Her phone rang. She answered it.

            I tuned out, assuming that it had nothing to do with me. But my mom looked at me. “Sarah, Mrs. Johnson has a job opening for you.”

            I opened my mouth. My mother’s friend offering me a job opportunity?

            “All right then. Thank you, Martha.” My mom hung up. “Sarah, Mrs. Johnson expects you next week.”

            “Why not sooner?” I asked.

            “Because she has to take care of other things,” my mother said. “But we may get this house back.”

            I smiled.

fiction

The Prince Who Loved Boys: A Short Story

Once upon a time, there was a prince who lived in a castle. He was seventeen years old and completing his education soon as well as preparing for engagement. His parents, the king and queen, had arranged princesses and other young ladies to meet him and bless them with marriage.

            Only that—the prince didn’t love girls. He loved guys.

            “Mother, I want to marry another boy,” the prince said.

            “You do?” asked the queen.

            “I’m gay,” said the prince.

            The king hung his jaw down. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

            “I’m sorry, father, I… I wasn’t sure if you’d accept it.”

            “Of course we would, son,” the king said. “It’s just that… we don’t know any other gay guys.”
            “There has to be someone out there.”

            A guy cried for help outside. The prince ran to the window. A boy, around the prince’s age, carried a rose outside the moat.

            “Has anyone seen Casey?” the strange boy asked.

            “Um… may I ask if Casey is a boy or a girl?” the prince asked.

            “He’s a boy!” the guy stared at the prince. “Were you overhearing my—”

            “Sorry,” the prince said.

            “Why do you care?” asked the boy.

            “W-well… b-because—”

            “I’m taken, sorry.” The boy turned around.

            “Wait!” exclaimed the prince.

            The guy stopped.

            “You’re gay too?”

            “Yes.”

            “Oh, isn’t that wonderful?” the queen approached the window. “In fact, I think you should have dinner with us tonight and let my son get to know you.”

            “But I—”

            “We’ll have the guards open up the gates and take it from there,” the queen said.

            Some time later the royal family and the new boy sat at the dinner table. The butlers brought out the food.

            “So what is your name, sire?” the king asked.

            “I’m Kyle,” said the guest. “And there’s something I need to tell you.”

            “Well, our son is due for marriage soon,” the king said. “And he just told us that he’s gay.”

            “So am I and—”

            “You and our son would make a perfect couple, Kyle,” the queen said. “We’ll make you both live happily ever after.”

            “What I’m trying to say is—”

            “And you two will rule the kingdom together,” the king added.

            “I’m in a relationship!” Kyle yelled.

            There was a pause. The whole table went silent.

            “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry the prince,” Kyle said.

            The king sighed. “Fine. Then I guess you guys will just be friends.”

            That night the prince sat in his chamber. Tears stung his eyes. He and Kyle could be friends. But the prince loved him as a partner.

            What if there were no other guys to love? The royal wedding was set to start in six months. The prince only had a few more days to find a suiter.

            But Kyle seemed to sob outside. “Casey, you can’t do this to me.”

            The prince rushed to his window.

            “I don’t love you,” Casey said. “Honestly, I don’t feel ready for a relationship.” He walked away from Kyle.

            The prince hurried to his parents’ chamber. “Mom, Dad, I need your help with something.”

            “If it’s about Kyle, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about it,” the king said.

            “That’s the thing,” said the prince. “His boyfriend doesn’t love him. He broke up with him.”

            The queen gasped. “Oh, that’s terrible.”

            “Can we let him back inside?” asked the prince. “Please?”

            “It’s nine o’clock,” the king said.

            “I don’t want to lose him,” the prince said.

            “Your majesties!” cried Kyle.

            The queen walked to the door. “We’ll let him in.”

            After the guards let Kyle in, the prince approached him. “Are you all right?”

            “Casey’s used me this whole time for nothing,” Kyle said.

            “I’m sorry,” said the prince. “But… maybe I can make it up for you.”

            “You really think so?” asked Kyle.

            “Yes,” said the prince. “I promise to love you with all my heart. I’ll never cheat on you or dump you.”

            “You promise?” Kyle asked.

            “I do,” said the prince.

            Kyle smiled.

            The next few months, the two spent several dates together. They married in the late summer as prince and prince. And did they live happily ever after? You decide.

fiction

Spring Explained: A Flash Fiction Piece

Image from Pixabay

Today is March twentieth. You should know what that is. The first day of spring. You’d expect flowers blooming, tree buds expanding, and much more.

            Maybe in parts of the south. However, here in New York, the first day of spring is cold, can snow, and has no blooming of anything whatsoever. It’s practically still winter.

            I’ve always wondered why the dates of spring couldn’t be regional. Why does it have to rely on an equinox related to the Earth and where it is around the sun?

            Because where I live, “spring” isn’t until at least close to mid-April. That’s right. Nothing blooms or fades from winter until about a month after the first day of spring.

            On the bright side, winter weather delays my allergies. When pollen flies and plants bloom, I sneeze a lot. Sometimes I even catch a cold.

            I stare outside my window, and watch flurries fall from the sky. Darn. I didn’t expect that today.

            But someone knocks on my door.

            “Genevieve, it’s time for school,” my mom says.

            I leave my room and go downstairs. I realize that global warming has made some springs come sooner. It wasn’t until three years ago that things bloomed in March. And that’s unusual.

            “I’m surprised it’s snowing,” my mom says.

            “It’s March, Mom,” I say. “It’s always cold at this time of year.”

            “Um… no, sometimes it’s warmer than usual.”

            “Global warming.”

            “You really believe so?”

            “Yes.”

fiction

The Cruise: A Flash Fiction Piece

Image from Pixabay

Ava took out her paper while facing the classroom. “This is a true tale about something that happened over the summer.” She gazed into her sheet and looked at the other students. “The sun was shining over the ocean. I was dancing on a cruise with some friends and my family. But a thunder storm struck lightning nearby. Our ship had to move away from it. The party was over. I was disappointed.”

            “And we’ll stop there,” said Mrs. Sanders, the teacher. “Ava, is this really a true story?”

            “Yes,” she said.

            “You’re crazy,” said a boy.

            “I thought your family didn’t have a lot of money,” said Kelsi.

            “Mind your own business, Kelsi,” Ava said.

            The bell rang. Everyone left the classroom and packed up as his or her locker.

            Ava breathed, thinking about what her classmates had said. She couldn’t be insane. She couldn’t have made the whole thing up.

            After hopping onto the bus, Ava’s phone rang. It was her mom.

            “Ava, what happened in school today?”

            “Nothing, Mom.”

            “I got a call from Mrs. Sanders that you made up a story about us being on a cruise.”

            “We did go on a cruise over the summer. I remember.”

            “We’ve never been on a cruise before. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to have a chat when we get home.” The mother hung up.

            Ava felt her stomach compress. How could her mom not recall the cruise? Either her mom was starting to forget things or… Ava had some memory issue.

            No. She couldn’t. She’d heard of some condition where people unintentionally lied about things that never happened. But that couldn’t be the case for her.

            Minutes had passed. Ava got off the bus and went inside. Her mom gave her a sharp look. “Ava, I have some bad news for you.”

            “I’m grounded, aren’t I?”

            “No.” The mother sighed. “You have been cursed with a condition that gives you memories of things you’ve never had.”

            Ava lowered her jaw. “What?”

            “I found out that your father was a magician. And that he gave you that jinx.”

            Ava gasped. “No.”

            “It’s been ten years since he died. I waited too long to tell you.”

            Ava looked down. “How am I ever going to get through life like this?”

            “You’re the only one who can control those false memories.”

            “What?”

            “It’s all up to you.”

            “But how do I control them?”

            “You have to consider other circumstances and suppress those that don’t match with them.”

            “Okay.” Ava sat on a couch. She closed her eyes. “We never went on a cruise ship,” she whispered. She repeated herself a few times.

            The thought faded. Ava forgot what happened before the storm. She reminded herself out loud a couple more times. She couldn’t remember anything about a cruise vacation.

            Ava looked down. It would be nice if we went on a cruise one day. Perhaps, before my thirteenth birthday in January.