HAPPY NEW YEAR and LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!
WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS
If you’re looking for a good time with interesting people you’ve come to the write place.
We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt. The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.
WARNING! This is an addiction for which there is no 12 step recovery program.
Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)
Make every word count.
- Please copy your URL to the Linkz collection. You’ll find the tab following the photo prompt. It’s the little white box to the left with the blue froggy guy. Click on it and follow directions. This is the best way to get the most reads and comments. PLEASE BE CERTAIN YOUR LINK IS SPECIFIC TO YOUR FLASH FICTION.
- Please make sure your link works. If you find that you’ve made an error you can delete by clicking the little red ‘x’ that should appear under your icon. Then re-enter your URL. (If there’s no red x email me at Runtshell@aol.com. I can delete the wrong link for you).
- If your blog requires multiple steps for visitors to leave comments, see if you can simplify it. Please, for the sake or our writerly nerves, disable CAPTCHA –that wavy line of unreadable letters and numbers. This mainly applies to Blogspot. It’s frustrating to have to leave a DNA sample, your blood type and your shoe size just to make a comment. (So I exaggerate. But hopefully you get the picture).
- Make note in your blog if you’d prefer not to have constructive criticism.
- *NOTE-If your link is to an advertisement or any type of platform (be it religious or political) it will be deleted. And on that note:
TALK ABOUT CHANGING HORSES IN MID-STREAM
- For those of you who have a problem with labeling your story with genre for whatever reason, fret no more! While there was a good reason for it, it appears the cons far outweigh the pros. I maintain that it’s a good idea to know your genre for professional purposes. But for Friday Fictioneers purposes and my own precarious sanity we’ll let it go. PLEASE exercise discretion when commenting on someone’s story and blog. Keep the comments respectful and kind. This is not the place to promote political or religious views. If you have a severe or hostile difference of opinion with someone please take it to email or other method of private messaging.
- Thank you for your patience and support as I learn to steer the bus.
- ***My story will follow the photo prompt for those who would rather write before reading other stories. Like everyone else, I value your comments and critiques. ***
Atiya Townes -January 3
David Stewart -January 4
Erin Leary-January 10
(Let me know if you have a birthday this month.)
This week’s photo prompt from Lora Mitchell seems to be just the right one to launch the new year.
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Genre: Historical Fiction
During China’s Song Dynasty (970 – 1260), seen as property, a woman’s sole purpose was to please her husband. Officially sanctioned, foot-binding became the essence of feminine beauty. The smaller a woman’s foot, the better her chances of marrying well. The practice continued into the 20th century until China came under Communist rule. To read more on the subject, click here.
With highly prized feet that fit a man’s palm, bones bound and crushed in childhood, Zhen Xi’s youthful beauty caught wizened warlord Han Donhai’s eye.
Every night she endured the beatings that followed his inadequacy. She feared he’d too soon discover her secret and she’d suffer the same fate as three past wives who died under his sword for failure to conceive.
Seven months after the wedding, fireworks spangled the sky in celebration of Donhai’s nine pound heir.
Hours later his blade flashed above her.
“You faithless whore!”
She smiled. Her child would live while her unbound spirit ran free.