It’s Friday, time for another Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction story with adorable and creative Alice, her incredulous and conventional parents, Marsha and Kevin, and her best friend, Billy. Today, we’ll be learning a little more about Alice, and why she needs to be creative. I hope you like this new episode!
Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the challenge and Fatima Fakier Deria for today’s photo prompt, which led me directly to this weeks’ 100-word story.
“Alice Pendragon, you’ll be the first ever one-eyed, girl pirate in the history of Caribbean piracy!”
Alice shook her head and turned away. “There aren’t any pirate ships in the picture.”
“Alice, please look again and choose one of the ships to sail.”
Nurse Temple rapped on the door and strode in. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later, Billy. The doctor’s coming to check out our patient.”
“You already have a head scarf,” said Billy handing Alice the eye patch, “You better be wearing this when I come back!”
****
Sorry, Alice’s story is a little sad today. My granddaughter was admitted to hospital last Monday. She’s home today and it was nothing too serious, but it made me think how lucky we are when we and our loved ones are healthy, and how important it is to be creative and believe in yourself, in sickness and in health.
It’s Friday, time for another Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction story with adorable and creative Alice, her incredulous and conventional parents, Marsha and Kevin, and her best friend, Billy, whom we met last week. Today, we’ll be seeing where Alice lives (see photo below). I hope you like this new episode!
Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting the challenge and J Hardy Carroll for today’s photo prompt, which led me directly to this weeks’ 100-word story.
Billy shrugged, obviously unimpressed. ‘I’d better be going home.’
It was a hideous, old house, but Alice didn’t want to lose her new friend, so she decided to point out some advantages. ‘There’s an indoor pool, viewing room, and tons of video games!’
‘Bye, Alice,’ he said, walking away.
She had to stop him, so she told him her secret. ‘There are wizards, goblins, treasure maps and hiding places…’
Billy’s eyes beamed. ‘Really?’
Alice pushed the iron gates.
‘Race you to the door!’ he challenged. ‘Last one’s ‘it!’’
*****
I think Alice and Billy are going to have fun in that stunning mansion. More next week…
Maybe it’s the beginning of a rainy spring, maybe it’s just that some projects are taking longer than I thought, maybe I’m a little stuck in my WIPs, maybe there are too many WIPs… Probably, it’s just one of those days…
Today I’m posting my review of Evelyn, After, by Victoria Helen Stone, a suspenseful and well plotted psychological thriller.
Evelyn Tester had just taken a sleeping pill, prescribed by her husband, who is a well-known psychiatrist. She was asleep when her husband phoned, asking her to drive to meet him in a lonely country road, because he had a problem with his car. She was bewildered and confused due to the pill she’d taken, but she was aware that her husband wasn’t alone, he was with a beautiful woman, and they’d had a car accident. From then on, Evelyn made every effort to piece together what happened that night and find out everything she could about her husband’s companion.
There is plenty of suspense and there are many twists in the plot as Evelyn carries out her own private and secret investigation, during which she finds out more than she bargained for, including a devastating crime. Her behaviour becomes obsessive, and often rash, yet although the ending is traumatic for everyone involved, Evelyn after, herself is a very different woman to Evelyn before.
Evelyn, After is narrated in the third person from Evelyn’s point of view. The most original aspect of the novel is the way the plot is gradually disclosed. The first chapter marks the present plot time. The accident has already occurred, Evelyn has uncovered some vital information, and she has decided to take her vengeance on the woman she considers has ruined her life. From then on, the author uses two time frames, before and after chapter one. The chapters are alternately called ‘before’ and ‘after’, until the final chapter, which is called ‘Now’, and we return to the present. It isn’t confusing, in fact it adds to the suspense, and makes the reader eager to turn the pages and find out what happened before and after.
There is plenty of suspense throughout, because the loose ends aren’t tied up until the final chapter, when everything comes together and we learn exactly what happened and which role every character played in the events. However, for me, the real subject of the novel isn’t the accident, the crime, or the affair, the novel is about the transformation of Evelyn, who is able to recover the woman she once was and follow her dreams, instead of living her life as the woman everyone takes for granted. Good for her! It’s not a happy ending, but it is a satisfactory ending, because all the threads are neatly tied up. It’s also a hopeful ending, for Evelyn, at least.
Victoria Helen Stone is the nom de plume for USA Today bestselling author Victoria Dahl. After publishing more than twenty-five novels, she is now taking a turn toward the darker side of genre fiction. Born and educated in the Midwest, she finished her first manuscript just after college. In 2016, the American Library Association awarded her the prestigious Reading List Award for outstanding genre fiction. Having escaped the plains of her youth, she now resides with her family in a small town high in the Rocky Mountains, where she enjoys hiking, snowshoeing, and not skiing (too dangerous).
March 16, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) go down the rabbit hole to a place where art is not allowed. It could be a small story or a dystopian vision. Is there a power struggle over art? Would the general public miss it? Is the end of art a natural evolution? Go where the prompt leads.
An Unfavourable Ancestor
‘Destroy it, Brigs,’ Rochester said, pointing to the portrait.
‘But it’s your most glorious ancestor, sir, Damer de Rochester, who died at the Battle of Marston Moor.’
Jane gazed admiringly at the portrait and the man she loved, seeing a likeness. ‘You must be very proud of such a brave ancestor.’
‘Brave but foolish, Jane. The Rochesters have been on the blacklist since the Restoration, thanks to him.’
‘It’s a grand work of art. I beg you to reconsider,’ pleaded Rochester’s administrator.
‘I want no trace of him. The new Queen mustn’t know, and I will have my knighthood.’
****
A little bit of English History may be needed to capture this flash in its entirety.
The portrait of Damer de Rochester, who was slain at the Battle of Marston Moor, is mentioned in Jane Eyre, as one of Mr. Rochester’s ancestors.
Marston Moor, in North Yorkshire, is famous for the battle fought on 2nd July, 1644. The Parlamentarians, led by Oliver Cromwell, defeated the Royalists. After this defeat the Royalists left Northern England.
The Battle of Marston Moor, by J. Barker
It is not known for sure if Rochester’s ancestor was a Royalist or a Parlamentarian, but my guess is that his family were associated with the Parlamentarians, and so when the monarchy was restored in 1660, the family was not awarded a knighthood for their loyalty and service, as would probably have happened if they had been faithful to the monarchy.
Two hundred years later, a member of the landed gentry, such as Rochester, would probably want all reference to his Parlamentarian ancestor destroyed, because the new Queen, the young Victoria, of German origin, might not know enough about English history to continue with the veto on the family. This is why Rochester is so keen to have the portrait destroyed, because he wants no evidence of his family’s lack of allegiance to the monarchy.
Charli’s flash includes the lines, “Your art is my history, Danni.”
Art does indeed record history. It is a historic document, and as such can be subject to manipulation or destruction. Rochester, in my flash, would destroy a work of art because it reminds anyone who sees it that his ancestor fought against the Monarchy. He wants this fact to be forgotten.
My flash is a fictional reinterpretation, based on the painting and the characters in Jane Eyre. I have used it to illustrate the point, that art can be inconvenient for future generations as a permanent record of events.
A world without art that Charli envisages, would be unbearable.
I believe a world without music, dance, literature, fine art, photography, theatre and cinema etc. is impossible, however, a world where past and present art is manipulated or censored is unfortunately possible.
Nevertheless, I’m optimistic, because artists have always found a way to express their true feelings through their art.
I remembered that I have some lovely pictures of portraits I took at the National Portrait Gallery in London, a lesser known gem, right next to the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square, and others I took at Charles Dicken’s Museum at Doughty Street, London.
Here I am as close as I’ll ever be to my favourite writers. Top left Robert Browning and his wife Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Mr. Greenwood, who marries Adele in All Hallows at Eyre Hall is based on the widower, Robert Browning.
Top right with Robert Louis Stevenson, who wrote the unforgettable Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, one of my favourite novels, whose influence features strongly in Midsummer at Eyre Hall. We all have to balance the capacity for good and evil we possess.
The bottom left are the Bronte sisters, Anne, Charlotte and Emily (from left to right) in the famous painting by their brother, Patrick Branwell Bronte. The portrait on the right is of Charlotte Bronte.
The bottom right, Mr. Charles Dickens, who features prominently in Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall, where he narrates a chapter, and Midsummer at Eyre Hall, where his generosity and friendship will be of invaluable help to Jane Eyre.
Isn’t it wonderful that the Bronte’s and Charles Dickens are so close, in the Gallery and in my literary heart and mind.
Here I am with Dickens’ portrait in the reproduction of his dining room at his home in Doughty Street.
A caricature of the older Dickens, on his way to the continent, which means anywhere which is not UK!
This isn’t a portrait, but I thought I’d include his chair, where he sat and probably read, chatted, and perhaps plotted and made notes, before sitting at his writing desk.
Finally, here I am beside a portrait of my favourite sports person, Rafael Nadal, the greatest Spanish tennis player of all time, and one of the best in the world, not only because he’s a world tennis champion, but because he’s such a good sport.
Seen today during the three-hour trip from Almería to Córdoba:
Almost desert-like hills of Almería The Mediteranean Sea to the left. There were plenty of tunnels carved into the mountains.
More dry hills.
Cordoba in the distance, at the foot of the mountain range called, Sierra Morena.
Is it only me, or do any of you find you get inspiration as someone else is driving you, while you’re taking photos, jotting ideas, writing some flash fiction, checking blog posts and twitter messages etc.
The journey always seems so short!
It was sad to leave my best friend, Anna and Viven, behind in Almería, but such is life.
At least she had a lovely birthday party, paella and cake included in the menu!
Here’s the proof:
Happy Birthday Anna with Vivien and Lucy! I love Almerimar!
This post was written in response to Sacha Black’s weekly prompt for 2017 (52 weeks in 52 words).
Sacha will post one prompt a week for 52 weeks, and the challenge is to write a story in just 52 words exactly. The value of conciseness for a writer is invaluable, as Sacha herself reminds us: ‘The art of being concise is nothing if not a muscle flexing ‘write’ bicep curling device’. This weeks’ prompt ‘The distance between,,,’
This week the challenge is to write the most romantic 52 words you can, to turn Sacha’s black coal infested heart into mush! She needs some love to keep her going under the pressure. Bonus points if anyone makes her weepy!
I hope you enjoy this Flash about love beyond the grave. Inspired by: ‘And I shall but love thee better after death.”
****
Love After Love
We were five when you pushed your fingers through mine,
Eleven when you crushed me in your arms,
Fifteen when we sealed our first kiss,
Seventeen when we made love,
Twenty-two when we promised our vows,
And sixty-four when I left,
But you still bring me flowers,
And I blow you kisses while you sleep.
****
I hope that’s romantic enough and sad enough for Sacha!
It is love which brings us the greatest joys, and consequently, separation, betrayal or death of a loved one, which brings us our greatest sorrow, and unfortunately it’s inevitable. Even if our love has no imperfections, it cannot overcome death, or can it? That’s up to the reader to decide…
The title of the poem is another small tribute to the great poet from Saint Lucia, Derek Walcott. His short poem with the same title ‘Love After Love’ is one of my favourite, all time poems. Here is this gem if you’d like to read it
This post was written in response to Linda G. Hill’s weekly Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. This week it’s “man.” Use it as a word by itself or find a word with “man” in it. Have fun!
Manu and Me
My husband is called Manuel, but I call him Manu. We met in 1978.
Over the last 39 years we’ve done many things, including working hard, having three children, buying a house and making a comfortable home for us and our children.
We’ve had good times and a few rainy days.
I’ve mostly forgotten the bad times. Perhaps they weren’t that bad anyway.
We’ve made lots of journeys together: Florence, Algarve, Vienna, Berlin, Bremen, Bratislava, Budapest, and all over Spain and the UK, our favourite places!
Manu loves driving while I take pictures or write.
We love taking selfies. We’ve taken hundreds since the first picture in a photo booth!
I’m glad Manuel and I stuck together, in spite of almost splitting up, more than once.
Here’s our latest photo taken this morning at the beach in Almeria.
Manu and I are still standing, still smiling, still travelling, and still healthy and optimistic enough to look at the camera and smile, and that’s a lot to wish for and enough to have.
Rereading Jane Eyre 