Flash fiction – portfolio draft

Every morning we have to be woken by the maid because our room is so dark and quiet. The heavy wooden shutters block out the heat, the noise, the startling sunlight. Once awake, we sit on the balcony and blink at the purple bougainvillea growing in the spruce trees and the light glinting off the sea and then we join the others for a breakfast of tree-fresh orange juice and aromatic grapefruit under the canopy of the vines. This is Casa Cueni in Sicily. The world moves by at a slow and steady pace behind the doors to this garden and even the lithe green lizards are in no hurry to leave our sides. Once fed, we melt onto the roof terrace and with our novels wilting around us and we dream of lunch, dinner and wine, but never going home. Never returning to the dreary greyness of life in England.

Response to a photo

She sat on the bed staring fixedly at the covers. The geometric pattern kept fading in and out of her blurred vision like a doppler effect on the eyes, and she tired to focus. She tried to focus on the what happens next, the what now, the where shall I go, the what shall I do, but she found it impossible without him. How could she see a beyond him? She gave a sigh and lowered herself down onto the mattress. She pushed her face deep into the folds of the fabric and breathed deeply. It still smelt of him in places and she frantically searched them out. Near his pillow, in the dent from his hip bone, along the top where his arm rested outside of the bed.

Manifesto

Week 5 Assignment – COLLABORATIVE WRITING (MANIFESTO): group writing exercise on writing a Manifesto – discussion of manifesto (arwebwriting.wetpaint.com).

http://arwebwriting.wetpaint.com/page/MANIFESTO+-+group+1

Blog homework

Week 9 Assignment  - BLOG WRITING: a week of blog entries as a creative writing exercise in itself, developing existing piece as longer assignment if preferred.

See http://stalker33.wordpress.com/

This is a separate blog with posts.

Spilling from my mouth – ideas on rewrites

Week 8 Assignment – REVISION OF WORK: post entry on how to develop hypertext photo story (or other piece if preferred).

I really enjoyed writing this piece. The enjoyment largely came from deciding where the hypertext links should be placed and what text should lead on. However, I appreciate that my choices may have been confusing for readers. But, this was partly intentional. The confusing and unsettling nature of reading the different links was supposed to emulate how the character was feeling.

Having re-read the story, I think that some parts would benefit from a re-write and/or re-think. This is because I think some of it sounds far too rational. I think the sheer panic and frustration needs to be captured in the tone more.

I wonder if I need to develop a blog specifically for this story. In this way, could it be more dynamic and less confusing? But is this a feature of the piece that I don’t want to lose? I can’t decide at the moment. I am also toying with the idea of adding links to “home” or the starting point of the story so that the reader can always find their way back, but again, I can’t decide if this is a good or a bad thing. In other words, does this muddled linking work best for the subject matter? I would really appreciate comments and thoughts from class mates.

I think that the hypertexting way of writing works well for this interior monologue style. It allows the reader to get deeper and deeper into the character’s mind. In this sense, I believe I have chosen the subject matter well.

Hypertext link to go in Matt’s edit of Sarah’s article on “Alzheimers”

Alzheimers: is the most common cause of dementia. The term ‘dementia’ is used to describe the symptoms that occur when the brain is affected by specific diseases and conditions. Alzheimers is a physical disease affecting the brain leading to the death of brain cells. It is a progressive disease, which means that gradually, over time, more parts of the brain are damaged. As this happens, the symptoms become more severe.

Image for Matt’s Flash Fiction

Edit of Matt’s Flash Fiction

EDIT: Standing in line, waiting to be served. He hoped the waitress wouldn’t notice he had 20p instead of 50p. He wanted tea. Shuffling forwards, one more person was served. He kept his eyes down as he got closer. The sound of coins falling into place became louder. Sweat formed on his brow, before falling on his cheek. His heartbeat pulsated. Finally it was his turn.“Cup of tea please.” She dropped the money in the till without a glance. “YES!” he shouted. Everyone turned.

ORIGINAL: He was standing in line, waiting to be served. He hoped that the waitress wouldn’t notice he was using a 20p imitating a 50p. All he wanted was a cup of tea. He anxiously shuffled forwards as one more person was served, each having enough money, most had the correct change. He was far too superior to ask anyone for money. He kept his eyes down as he got close and closer, the sound of coins falling into their place inside the till drawer became louder and louder. Sweat was forming profusely on his brow, taking a detour around his eye before falling to his cheek. His heartbeat became so pulsating he thought the people around him may feel the vibrations through their fresh cups of decaffeinated coffee. Finally it was his turn. “A cup of tea please” His hand trembled as he passed her the money. She dropped it in the till without a glance. “YES” he shouted using all the air in his lungs. Everyone turned.

Flash fiction

Chester was at the bar, making his last orders. Julian sat alone with me. He was picking his nails and looking at the beer stained table. “Have you ever told him?”

My chest was gripped with fear. “Told him? Told him what?” Even though I knew damn well what he was talking about.

“What happened that night, at that party.”
”No.”

“Why?”

I thought long and hard. “I haven’t told him because he doesn’t need to know. It was a thing that happened. It shouldn’t have happened and the next morning, it may as well not have happened. I don’t see the point in mentioning it. It’s not like it happened again, is it?”

“I wish it had happened again. I still wish it would happen again.”

I didn’t know what to say; didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry Julian but you need to forget about it. I have.”

Spilling from my mouth

Week 6 Assignment – HYPERTEXT: Hypertext writing/photo story (’flash fiction’ approach).

I just can’t stop myself. The words come spilling out of my mouth and no-matter how I try to stop them, they flood out in a torrent. I sound like a human with verbal diarrhoea, a tourettes sufferer, some kind of lunatic. Sometimes they’re not even words. Sometimes they’re just sounds. Wails and moans. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Is that it? Is that what is happening? Am I losing my mind or just losing my rag? All around me people are staring. Some looked frightened, some smirk. Parents pull their children closer to them. And even though I see them; even though I can feel their thoughts whirring inside their heads, sense their panic, I just can’t stop. My panic runs far deeper than theirs.