Sounds Like Blackberries – a reblog

This is crazy! In the best most interesting way.

Annie Cardi

A lot of times, writers rely on sensory details to create vivid worlds for their characters. Sometimes it’s fun to use synesthesia and mix the senses. But it’s not just an artistic tool or neurological condition. Apparently this combination of senses is something we all do to some degree.

Scientists studying this link found that people can generally link specific tastes with specific sounds:

“Blindfolded or not, significant associations emerged. Few subjects linked brass with blackberry, for example, but many associated it with piano. Hardly anybody connected piano with musk, but many linked it to brass. Fruit odors were consistently associated with high pitched notes. That confirmed an earlier study by Crisinel and Spence showing that sweet and sour flavors were also associated with high pitched notes.

This effect apparently works the other way, too. Another scientist recently asked different musicians to play pieces of music with adjectives like “bitter,”…

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Flash Fiction (11) – The Maid

A harder prompt (at least for me)

island vacation

Prompt courtesy of L.S. Engler, go check out what this prompt inspired her to write.

She took shoes off her aching feet and began cooking dinner, knowing that if she  sat down to rest, even for a moment, she wouldn’t have the strength to get up and do what needed to be done.

Her daughter, giggling and cooing, pulled on her skirt.  If she picked her up, she definitely wouldn’t be able to finish dinner before sitting down.  So she sang; she sang about her daughter, making dinner, and how tired she was.  Finally dinner was ready; it wasn’t great, but it was warm and it was the best she could do.  She put her daughter in her chair and gave it to her.

Standing beside her daughter she placed her hand over her pocket, more importantly over the ring in her pocket.  She found it under a chair on the deck in a guest’s room.  It was gold and sparkled with diamonds.  At the end of her shift the manager called her in to his office to ask if she found any jewelry while cleaning that room.  She lied.

Please critique this short story.  When you see something that should be improved please let me know!  Thanks.

Six Word Memoir – an update

I came up with two six word memoirs.

Bar too high; should I limbo?

Forgot to start; ready to begin.

If you want more information about what I’m writing about check out these posts mine (a reblog) or here (the original blog).  Oh yeah, be sure to check out the comments for other bloggers’ six word memoirs.

And please give it a shot (or several).  It’s a pretty fun challenge.  And if you come up with something please post it, I’d love to see what other people do.

Six Word Memoir

What a fabulous exercise!

I’m still trying to come up with my six word memoir. I’ll keep you updated as I work.

What about you? Can you write a six word memoir? Care to share?

Shambolic Living

Do you remember Ernest Hemingway’s short, short story. For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.? At the Smith Magazine Larry Smith used Hemingway’s story as inspiration and asked his readers to describe their lives in six words. It was supposed to be a month long competition but now five years later it’s still going strong.

Oprah Magazine ran an article on the six word memoir this month and there were some great ones in there. My personal favourite was Trudy Love Tantalo, 60 who came up with Was hot. Raised kids. Lost cool. Although kudos also goes to Kimberly Kilroy, 53 with Still fit into high school earrings. There were some particularly poignant ones as well, Melinda Hui, 38 Abandoned at 5. Learning to thrive. While Melanie Barbour, 34 shared Stage IV cancer made me live.

How would you define your life in six words?

I’m struggling with the task…

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Flash Fiction (10) Bones

Here goes another

bones and rocks

Prompted by Madison Woods.  Go check out her blog to read more stories inspired by this prompt.


“Looks like rocks to me.”

“No, they’re not.  Look at that one right there.  That’s a bone.  See?”

The kids backed away.

Curiosity got the best of them and they crept closer to look at the bones.  Mostly they were old, but there were a few that looked very fresh.

They giggled as they tried to scare one another, “those are other kids’ bones,” one whispered.

A twig cracked in the trees behind them.  They squealed in fear, their hearts began racing and their feet struggled to keep up.  As their house came into sight they slowed.

Their giggles returned.

Oh yeah, I’d love some constructive criticism.  I’m trying to improve my writing, so if you notice something that can be tweaked, changed, or improved please please please let me know!

The Old Toothless Hound – an update

Well, my old dog had the rest of his teeth pulled yesterday (you can read a little blurb about that here).

And yesterday evening was a little rough.  He kept dripping blood, apparently the vets wanted the holes in mouth to drain so not everything was closed up.  He had the saddest eyes that just stared into space.  And once everybody went to bed I could hear him moaning.

Today, however, he is doing much better.  He loves that he is getting soft dog food and hopefully follows me every time I go to the kitchen. His eyes have their sparkle again.  And he is back to moving from one side of the room to the other trying to avoid my daughter who loves chasing him from one side to the other (don’t worry, she just learned how to crawl so it takes her awhile to get to him).

A big thank you to everyone who wrote nice words to me and my hound!

Flash Fiction (9) Deja Vu

Prompt from Inspiration Monday.  Go check it out for more prompts and more interpretations of those prompts.

The Echo Before the Cry

I just knew.   Meeting him was kind of like deja vu.  And it sounds so dumb and so cliche, but I did, I knew.  It felt like I had already lived this whole life with him, and now we were just redoing, refeeling, reliving what we had already done.

It’s not like I knew what was going to happen.  I didn’t.  And if I did know, I’m not sure I would have chosen to relive that life, with him.  I mean, it got better, it got good, it got better than good.  But the getting there, that wasn’t so good.  I just don’t know if the now is worth all that past.

I don’t regret staying, or fighting for him, for us.  But I don’t know.  If it really had already happened, and if I knew that this is how it would happen, I just don’t know if I would chose to do it again.  That’s all I’m saying, I just don’t know.