6-word Stories Tell a Story on Their Own

I worked on this last week, but I guess I forgot to post. It was something I saw on a Facebook feed from a previous year. Someone had shared some 6-word stories and they were heartbreaking. Beautiful though, but amazing how they were able to portray so much with so little words. It’s such a great challenge though for creative writers.

Let’s see what you can come up with…here’s mine:

Seven 6-Word Stories

1.  Brian said, “Goodbye.” Then he jumped.

2. Snowflakes danced around flower-covered headstones.

3. Black coffee drank up searing disappointments.

4. The advertisement read: need companion, non-violent.

5. Clutched hands trembled, the doctor spoke.

6.  Tail wagged. The Vet said, “Ready?”

7.  Birds chirped happily over rushing water.


Poem: Rules

These are just scribbles, really. A thank you goes to everyone who read and support this blog. Just noticed I reached 401 followers this weekend. 🙂 Might not seem like a lot, but it is to me. So again, thank you!


Shadows creep, winter chills
open closets are unkind
To the wandering mind
Of children just beginning

Poem: My Evil Twin, Doubt

Meet my evil twin
I call her, Doubt
she second guesses
Things I’ve figured out

She makes me weak
When I take a stand
Kicks me down
And takes command

Invites her friends:
Anxiety and Depression
Inside I’m roiling:
I’ve made a bad impression

Anxiety whispers to Doubt and
Depression behind my back
They’re making fun of me!
There’s nothing that I lack

I am Beautiful and Strong
Creative and Inspired
My evil twin, Doubt
Is not even desired

She’s shallow and she’s needy
her friends are much worse
Dripping black negativity
Tucking extra in her purse

She’ll swagger up the street
People spring out of the way
Heels clicking, eyes like daggers
With nothing great to say


NaNoWriMo Day 8 Update: How’s It Going Guys?

Hi Everyone! How’s NaNoWriMo going?

I haven’t got so much of a word count in, but I have been plugging away at 30 days of world building, which I found on this blog here.

Basically you spend each day working on the different aspects of creating your world. So far, I’ve created a climate, created a rough sketch of map, and selected what races will be in my world and how they will interact, etc.

The planning is so detailed and it’s been a lot of fun so far. Some of the stuff I’ve already come up on my own, but before I started doing the exercises I hadn’t even thought as far as climate and how weather (like a bad storm) could help drive a plot point.

Kind of neat! I think tonight I will do my world building exercise, (Economy and Politics!) and get down to some actual writing for once. I tend to not want to sit at my desk, because I sit at one for work all day long, so here I am propped up in bed and it is working so far.

How is everyone doing? How do you keep yourself motivated to keep writing?

Happy Writing Everyone!


Poem: Dumb Bum

Dum Dee Dum…

Feeling like a bum

all in bed, nightie on

feeling sleepy

energy gone

watching Netflix

making rhymes

life is exhausting

…to be creative


I like the new job, guys, but it’s hard to be creative sometimes when you are burnt out from work. Sometimes I work out after dinner, and that seems to give me more energy. Sometimes I read. But most of the time, I am a bum, sitting and watching Netflix and just tired, tired, tired. 

What about you guys? What keeps you motivated?



Our Vacation Out West Part 2: The Desert

After driving through the Rocky Mountains, Mike and I watched the landscape turn dryer, the rocks and dirt became a burnt red and orange. Small bush-like trees grew across the desert. And if you looked towards the horizon, the land continued for miles and miles in every direction. Flat and sparse and rocky, shadowed by giant mesas, we were just accessories to an already finished masterpiece.

This was the Utah that first greeted us. We drove for miles with no one around, except for the sparse trailer or house dispersed across the barren landscape. We drove through a good portion of the Navajo reservation and much of the landscape was the same; houses dotted a flat landscape of orange, red and brown.

Whoever lives here must drive for an hour to reach the nearest grocery store, or a half an hour at best to reach the nearest gas station. Little huts which promised finely woven Navajo rugs and pottery and jewelry, started to pop up every couple of miles alongside the highway.

We felt awed by the difference of this landscape compared to what we were used to back home. Upstate New York is green, the mountains are gentle hills, breezes tease the trees and rainstorms nourish. Here in this desert landscape was a harshness and a palette of colors we had never encountered before.

As the we drove into higher elevations and then drove back down, we kept our eyes out for eagles, and looked for big-horned sheep. We saw a few horses, and the occasional grouping of cattle, which chewed on the brown-yellow grass.

During our journey, I’m thinking about Star Wars, about a lonely teenager longing for adventure his desert home doesn’t provide. I’m thinking about science fiction stories of life on Mars, or a desert planet much like this one.

I fell in love with the desert’s stark beauty in a harsh and unforgiving landscape. Of dirt, and hot wind and a sun that blazes so hot and bright, it makes the sand burn underfoot.

I’m already in awe and we haven’t even made it to Zion National Park yet…and as we soon discovered, it’s always beautiful in Zion.


Poem: Writing Mind

Managed to spend a good four to five hours writing today! This is good news! I worked on a few projects at once, but one project I really got in to today. I realized I could probably submit it to the writer’s digest contest by June 1st, but to do that it needs some serious rewrites.

I got in the writers mindset a lot today and trying to emerge…is like waking up from a deep sleep. (At least it is for me.) I get this spacey expression on my face, and conversation is difficult, because part of me is still thinking about character’s dialogue in my head or planning which way a character is gong to go next.  It is an interesting feeling to say the least, but hey, at least I was productive today!

Pictured I snapped this weekend at the lake.

a writing sort of mood

everything sounds like poetry

blank stare


emerge from the world

like a band-aid ripped from a wound

jarred back to the present

words are like poetry

the trees are like poetry in motion

and everything is heavy, heavy, heavy

like a dark blanket

trapping the sun

in its shadows


Poem: Heartbreak Feels


time given

love lost

to move on

without you



like the color yellow

sometimes ugly

possible bright days a head



feet like lead

days stuck in shadow

heart beats a

heavy, tuneless, solo


when it hurts to breathe

when the smell of shampoo

has you sobbing in the grocery store


we store our memories

with time and love

and heartbreak


Random Flash Fiction: Miss Green

Hmm. Wanted to write some fiction tonight. Sat down and this kind of popped out. Not sure I’ll continue…but hey, it’s something. 

Hope everyone is having a great night, and happy writing!


Miss Green

Her hair was the color of straw; in dreads and pulled up on the top of her head. I loved the way it looked heavy and woolly, like she was carrying some sort of burden that spoke of an adventurous spirit, a need to get a way and explore.

She wore an electric green top, and the jewelry on her nose and ears and hands were a metallic green. She looked like something electric and natural, like a cyborg-computer mixed into the natural environment; something that couldn’t be outdated or out-sourced.

I’d ventured into this club because my friends told me to. Go to The Hollow they told me, you’ll love it. “Eclectic,” another friend had said. “Eccentric,” said another.

I found it to be a place full of oddities – like me. I wasn’t in any position to judge, really. My shy, awkward persona seemed to melt well into the absurd: the guy wearing the golden tights and the black sparkly mask, the woman dressed in garb that looked nineteenth century, and the blonde with the silver bikini and chewbacca tattoo on her stomach. What guy couldn’t resist a woman who had an ode to one of the greatest movies on earth tattooed on her body?

I found Miss Cyborg-Green on the dance floor. She was dancing to a funky beat; something with all drums and a nasal groan. Every one else seemed to be talking or drinking – not the typical mixed drinks and beer, no – mostly ales and wine, and I saw someone drinking coffee.

The lights were dim, but not completely dark. There was an atmosphere of frivolity. If I blinked my eyes, I could lose myself in another world. I felt the magic, the otherness in the air and was certain that Miss Green was a person that I wanted to meet.


How Depression Really Feels

Once again, trying to channel those super-down feelings of depression. Sometimes it helps to just get it all out there. Very much gloom and doom, though, I’m sorry. But sometimes it helps to get it out and maybe it’ll help others to understand. Especially, when they haven’t gone through these emotions themselves.

window-view-1081788_1920Today is a bad day for me. I try really hard, but somehow, I am always less than what I should be. Feelings of worthlessness, tiredness, that whole Is-it-worth-it-to-get-out-of-bed type of attitude.

I wish it was easier to go on, I wish it was easier to snap out of it than it is…but it’s not. In truth, I feel like I’ve done it to myself…not doing things that I should, not being where I should, not being enough again.

If only others knew how it feels. How it feels to be completely worthless.

Let me crawl back into bed with no judgement. Wrap your arms around me to keep me from going to pieces. But don’t look at me and don’t judge me. I can’t bear the weight of your expectations.

Sometimes I need that little push, but sometimes it frightens or scares me. Sometimes, I feel like I’m being thrust out into the cold with nothing to hold onto, and there is an icy floor beneath my feet.

Let me slip and slide if you want to, but how am I going to pull myself up?


My light therapy doesn’t feel bright enough. Usually it blinds and stuns at first, but today, it’s as if I just turned on a regular lamp. There is not enough light in the world to snuff out this darkness.

And I feel as if I have buried my nose in the heart of it and it is weighing me down. Oh, so very much.

Let the rain come, and let the worms burrow in my ears and let everything bad that’s supposed to happen rest upon my shoulders. I’m sure there is a weight in the world, worthy of this. But why all this despair, when I’ve done nothing?

I’ve done nothing to deserve this. And I shouldn’t think I have.

The brain is a fickle friend sometimes. One minute, you’re convinced you are doing everything to live a healthy life, the next thing…she’s telling you: you are worthless scum.

Go away brain, and let my heart speak for once.