Heh. Whereas my mind immediately saw all that dark sixties/seventies paneling and lace doilies spattered with blood.
Mystery writer? Me?
Book: I am a Shepherd. Folks like a man of God. Mal: No, they don't. Men of God make everyone feel guilty and judged.
'Safe'
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
deborah grabien - Mar 15, 2005 3:26:03 pm PST #602 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Susan W. - Mar 15, 2005 5:15:49 pm PST #603 of 10001
Good Trouble and Righteous Fights
Romancing the Blog today is on critiquing, the giving and taking thereof: [link]
Beverly - Mar 15, 2005 5:51:42 pm PST #604 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
I think Jilli should do her Gashlycrumb version of all the photos in the drabble pile. The washerwoman, the high-kicking headkerchief lassies, the cigarette and cocktail girls, the fox and the hound among the pigeons...
Jesse - Mar 15, 2005 6:03:48 pm PST #605 of 10001
Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be.
These drabbles have all been amazing this week. Damn, y'all.
And I keep meaning to say -- I just read a book of Ian Rankin short stories and one of them reminds me of some of ita's drabbles -- it's all internal and twisty.
Atropa - Mar 15, 2005 6:08:32 pm PST #606 of 10001
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
I think Jilli should do her Gashlycrumb version of all the photos in the drabble pile. The washerwoman, the high-kicking headkerchief lassies, the cigarette and cocktail girls, the fox and the hound among the pigeons...
I just might do that. It depends on how the work week goes, but I think I'd like to try that.
Beverly - Mar 15, 2005 6:18:32 pm PST #607 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
Yay!
Er, um, that is to say, I, for one, will look forward with eagerness and anticipation to any stories you may happen to fabricate with the aforesaid photographs in mind. Yes. Thank you.
Atropa - Mar 15, 2005 6:22:34 pm PST #608 of 10001
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
Huh. Well, that one popped into my head quickly:
A sure way to determine if someone is a true aficionado of urban ghost stories is to casually mention the Vetimert Quadruplets. The uninformed will respond with a blank stare, or nod their head and make up stories about four children joined at the torso, or other spooky nonsense. The Vetimerts were, by all (scarce) accounts, perfectly happy and normal women. They passed into legend when the small diner they owned and worked at vanished. Overnight, where the diner stood was transformed into a small park with a weather-beaten statue of a dog balancing a small frog on its nose. Stories of the Vetimert Quadruplets appearing on roadsides across the country and singing prophecies in four-part harmony to startled passers-by have never been adequately verified.
SailAweigh - Mar 15, 2005 6:24:48 pm PST #609 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
Jilli, that is fantabulous! Better than Lemony Snicket anyday!
Atropa - Mar 15, 2005 6:26:12 pm PST #610 of 10001
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
Teppy, I would like to thank you for this (these) drabble topic(s). For whatever reason, looking at those photos you selected has seemed to kick-start my writing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
SailAweigh - Mar 15, 2005 6:31:38 pm PST #611 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
What Jilli said.
A second look at Photo #4.
The Photographer
His assignment for the magazine was almost over. Last week, Elizaveta hadn’t shown up and he’d started to worry. He’d missed her quiet looks and the sweet singing she did while she worked. She was here today and he put his worries aside. Life had been hard since her mother had died this past winter; taking care of thirteen younger brothers and sisters wasn’t easy.
“I missed you last week. Are you alright?”
“We took my brother, Yefim, to the railway station. He is going to America for work.”
Perhaps, before he left, he would ask Elizaveta to marry him.