Solutions not Resolutions – Shortly

January 18, 2013 at 11:40 pm (horror, writing) (, , , , , , , )

Excuse my absence for the past couple of days but I was on an art break (see my latest project to the left). I like to work on art when I’m feeling disgruntled and anti-social – winter does that to me.

Anyway, I recently read an article wondering why many new writers seem to focus all their efforts on writing novels. I was guilty of the same, and the reason for this was that the shorter the story, the harder it seemed to be to write it. With time and some nudging from my hubby, I got better at writing short stories, but it is still very hit or miss. From time to time I try my hand at flash fiction (only three flash fiction acceptances to date) and when I really want to challenge myself I write drabble. Here are a couple of samples of my horror drabbles (that means “expect them to be disturbing because they are limited to 100 words”.) The second one received a very awkward rejection from Drabblecast. What can I say – it’s not my forte.

Watch Me Bleed

I was never a fan of confined spaces. I didn’t ever like elevators or tiny meeting rooms. They always made me feel too constrained, sort of claustrophobic. They don’t seem quite so bad anymore, in comparison.

It was a really bad accident. Here I am immobile, boxed into a space smaller than any I’ve been in before. I can hear the jaws of life, but I know that they won’t reach me in time. I’m dizzy and fading fast – so I watch my blood trickling away like sand in an hourglass.

Don’t get any ideas about this second one. I share none of the character’s inclinations. It just seemed like a really horrific concept to me when I wrote it.

A View From the Attic

The rafters creaked overhead as Angela gazed out of the attic window. The sight of Andrew playing happily in the backyard brought tears to her reddened eyes. She wanted to call out his name, but the tightness in her throat limited it to a slight whisper.

Andrew was only six and still existed in a world of innocence. He was afraid of the attic, so he was not likely to venture up there. Angela was thankful of this, as Andrew would not likely be the one to find her. Her body sagged in the noose as her world went black.

Considering the only writing I’ve done lately are rewrites, I’m thinking about dedicating March to a drabble dare. I’ll write a drabble a day and I’ll take suggestions for topics between now and the end of February. Post any suggestions you have in the comments section.



  1. Christina Westover said,

    Creepy stories: ) I can relate to the elevator one. I once saw the movie called “Devil” which takes place in an elevator, and I’ve been afraid of them ever since.

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