Notes on the Previous Four Stories

“A Lakeside Tale” was a lark that came out of nowhere – always a gift. I just saw a pretty woman in my mind (although admittedly, I always see pretty women in my mind) and got to thinking about how that sight tends to make an idiot of most men, and how nice it would be if somehow a guy – even if only in fiction – somehow managed to keep his wits about him even after he has made a complete ass of himself. This story is what came out.

“The White Book” was my and my niece Emily’s entry to Three-Minute Fiction's latest round. As I wrote, I had already written a couple of other pieces in response to this round’s challenge of writing a 600-word-max story whose first line reads: “She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door.” But I wanted Emily to try her hand at writing, so we agreed to get together and each write a story, and whatever we wrote we would send in. Unfortunately, I discovered that the rules didn’t allow minors to enter the contest. To try to get around this, I suggested that we do a collaboration instead, and I would submit our story under my name.

I don't think I ever had as much fun (co)writing anything as this story, which Emily and I wrangled into shape over a couple of very pleasant days. I mostly steered and I did provide the twist ending (and put in some constraints: she wanted to include a bunch of adventures, and I had to tell her that we only had space for maybe one scene in a 600-word story), but the main idea and the great, weird imagery – the people with beaks, the medieval costumes, the skates made of animal bones – are hers, from her Social Studies lesson on the Black Plague. During a lunch break, I got to telling her about the Monty Python Black Knight scene, and when we went back to writing, we decided to add a black knight into the mix.

It turned out that we were probably disqualified anyway, since another rule of the contest was that a story should be the sole creation of the person submitting. But – what the heck. As I said, the experience of writing this story with Emily was priceless in itself.

The next couple of stories came from prompts from Flash Friday Fiction.

“Fear” came from the cue: “A story about fear using the words: dark, crunching, eerie, monster, and fear. Word limit: 1,313 words.” I had been wanting to write a story where a protagonist’s experience with a primal emotion shatters his self-conception. I had anger in mind, but when I saw the prompt on Flash Friday Fiction, I figured fear would do as well.

“By Mokelumne River” arose from the cue: “Write a Western short story using these words: rope, dust, whiskey, medicine, and ceremony. Word limit: 1,500 words.” I had thought that of all genres, the Western would be the most difficult for me to write, but it turned out to be very easy. All I had to do was think back on Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, one of my favorite movies, and Firefly, one of my favorite shows, and try to emulate the tone and the penchant for twisty turnabouts of those two entertainments. I can only hope I succeeded somewhat.