by Mayumi-H | Apr 25, 2014 | Finding Mister Wright, Persona 4 Fan Fiction, Short Stories
A recent post by fellow blogger Vanessa J. Chapman about coriander/cilantro brought back this memory of cultural differences. Now, I like the leafy stuff, especially over curry or in guacamole, but head on over to Vanessa’s post to get an opposing view. Whether you like it or not, though, a standing argument is what to call the darn stuff. At least around my house, anyway. That led me down memory lane and got me to put together this free-write short story (if you can call ~2300 words “short”), set in my “Finding Mister Wright” original fiction continuity.
Homemade guacamole, heavily laden with cilantro (sorry, Vanessa!)
Apologies to folks who’d rather read a (potentially) more interesting article about my writing process than my fiction. But, the FMW universe of characters and situations is too much fun for me to let go. Click here to read the PDF (it will open in a new tab). Or, don’t. I will say it was fun switching to another character perspective for this one…especially since I’m more used to writing Rob in his intergalactic gunslinger persona, and not as a rather soft-hearted dad. đ WARNING: Because this is Rob, there are a few four-letter words in there. Nothing nasty, though. All colloquial.
On a semi-related note, please join me in sending your best writing concentration mojo to JM McDowell, who’s working her darnedest on her manuscript even as I post this. JM was the only one gracious enough to bite on the original “Finding Mister Wright” story draft (not even my husband’s bothered to read it!), and, without her thoughtful feedback, I probably would have left Marshall and the rest to languish in a drawer. Instead, I’m letting them flourish. Maybe they’ll never see a bookshelf, but they’ve given me a lot of joy these past few months. If only for that, I have to say, thanks, JM! Good luck with your latest version!
by Mayumi-H | Apr 12, 2014 | Finding Mister Wright, Short Stories
I’ve been writing a lot of dark stuff, recently. So, at the end of a sunny, productive week at work, I just didn’t want to venture back into that ugly universe of gunslingers and death-dealers. I wanted to do something light. As it turned out, something sappy, too, but we have to take the respites when they come as they come. Thankfully, one of my Twitter buddies – George McNeese – gave me the push I needed to see the following short story brainworm through. It’s a free write I pulled together between 4:30pm yesterday and 9:00am this morning, so it’s quite rough. But, I had fun writing it. Hopefully, you have fun reading it, should you so choose.
Click the link below to read the story in PDF format. It follows the characters and situations introduced in my “Finding Mister Wright” series. It’s also fluffy and silly (and quite non-traditional), but all the stories told are true, albeit taken from different sources.
All Yours – A Finding Mister Wright Free-Write
‘Til next time, happy writing!
by Mayumi-H | Mar 30, 2014 | Short Stories
Just a bit of free writing on a Sunday morning, inspired by the following Tweet, from fellow writer Sally-Jayne:
The tinny tune wafted on the night breeze, rippling over the burbling canal and along the street, bouncing from brick to brick down the row of tightly-packed houses. Up over the doors kept safe by Yale, Alexor, and Infinite, to the windows above propped open to let in the subtly soothing wind. And more.
Two rooms away, Daddy slept soundly with Mummy beside him. Lily knew he’d wake â both of them would â if she called. If she could call. But when the tune stuttered, skipping on a high C, the breeze fell still, and Lily cringed beneath the covers.
The curtains drifted up without wind, slow arms seeking blindly in the dark. A shadow of a beast loomed between them, head large and misshapen by tiny, crackling crystals.
The Ice-Cream Man had come.
I happened to glance at Twitter this morning, and was struck by this quick idea for a horror story. I’m not good at horror (I’m not good at much of anything, save perhaps drama), but it’s always fun to take a stab at something different.
Thanks again to Sally-Jayne for the prompt! I hope that all of you, too, are finding ways to tap into your own inspiration, whether it’s silly, scary, or the next part of your ongoing story.
by Mayumi-H | Jan 18, 2014 | Finding Mister Wright, Persona 4 Fan Fiction, Short Stories
No preamble for this bit slew of free writing I did over the course of Friday day/night…except a note to say thanks to Kourtney Heintz, for prompting me to actually write this piece, in her comment from last week’s 2013 WordPress blog report, made in reply to how I should maybe focus this blog on topics like “deep sea ice f***ing.” I’d meant that only as a joke, honestly. But, once a seed gets planted, it has to be quashed or nurtured.
The story below revisits Marshall Wright from another previous post, and takes his story a bit further than the short-ish story I wrote over winter break. There’s the suggestion of adult situations herein, but nothing graphic. I think, more than anything, the length of this one will probably lose me some reads/comments. But, I had such a good time writing this, all 3000+ words of it, I won’t fret about what should be done differently, here, or any of that. It felt great to write all of this in less than 24 hours, on a single prompting, I don’t regret it, any of it.
Take a look and read, if you’re so interested. Or, skip it, if you’re not. I’ll be back next time with something different (and shorter), I’m sure.
“It’s not really about the fishing” (more…)
by Mayumi-H | Dec 12, 2013 | Short Stories
Maybe you know Neeks? Well, if you don’t, this is a great introduction!
Over at her neekswrite blog, sweet Neeks has started a brand new contest of sorts, called “The Short and the Long of it.” Each week, Neeks will give her readers 3 words to use as prompt for a story or poem. It doesn’t matter how long or short the story/poem, though there are a few standing caveats regarding subject matter and word usage (specifically, no XXX, no swearing, no harming of children). For Week 1, we’ve been given these three words:
Plaid Moisture Defenseless
Now, my own judgment on what counts for XXX and harm is somewhat lapsing, these days, so I’m posting here instead of over at Neeks’s blog. Plus, my entry goes over 500 words, though only a bit. I’m also horribly mired in one particular story right now, so my mind couldn’t jump from these characters as readily as I might have liked. I did tweak them, though, but I think any readers of the sci-fi story will get ’em right away. Anyhow, here goes….
She pinned the clothes to the line, the sum total of her life: two denim coveralls, six colored shirts, three plaid miniskirts, and a pair of baggy trousers. Candy-cane-striped socks and boyshort underwear. And one lone dress, slender and colored crème, little more than a slip, really. But, it always made her feel a real woman. A fact everyone else on the planet conveniently seemed to forget.
Except for him.
Sure, twenty-seven wasn’t what she’d been looking for. But, she’d come to know him for who he was. More than just a hunter, grifter, or rogue. She knew him as a man. She’d heard it in his voice, felt it in his touch, tasted it on his lips. Against them, she’d been defenseless.
Sure, nineteen was young. But, he saw her for who she was. More than just a hacker, mechanic, or getaway driver. He saw her as a woman. He’d told her so in his whispers to God when they were alone beneath the stars, in the pattering of her heart when he’d squeezed her hand as they’d run, and in the tart need of his kiss before he’d made his farewell, followed by a hushed promise to return. Left with only that, she’d felt naked.
That had been a week ago.
Of course, she’d worried he’d been waylaid by roving scavengers or bandits. But, worrying didn’t make the time pass any faster. And, of course, she’d wondered if he’d been diverted by other, more…familial distractions. But, wondering didn’t make it true.
So, she waited. And tinkered. And washed. And put her clothes on the line, watching the dewy wetness in the creases dry beneath the desert sun…until she heard the rustle of tyres in the dirt.
The cloud of his stop was still hanging in the air as he jumped from the driver’s seat, with the spryness of a boy closer to her age than his. He scooped her up with a whoop and spun her about, hushing his own voice against her lips.
She laughed when they parted. âI can’t believe they let you go,â she said, smoothing her fingers over the scar at his temple, where once there had been the insignia of the hunters’ guild.
He grinned up at her, still caught in his arms. âNobody’s gonna tell us what to do. Not anymore, and never again.â
She just laughed again, flicking away the moisture on her lashes with three quick blinks.
Her tear bounced to his cheek, making his grin soften. He squeezed his arms tighter around her, murmuring, âYou ready to marry me, darlin’?â
She bobbed her head, a fresh slew of tears brimming on her lashes. âJust let me get my dress,â she said, and grabbed his face to kiss him again.
She spent her wedding day in that crème slip of a dress, but not her wedding night. That, she spent in his arms and a wind of rough motel sheet that kept them together for what felt like it could be forever.
âI love you,â she whispered during one relaxing lull.
His face, half-lit by the streaming moonlight from the window, smiled down at her. âI never want to be with anyone else,â he said, and bowed his head to hers.
She closed her eyes and waited for the press of his kiss, when something wet touched her lips. Again, wet.
She licked them. Salt.
She opened her eyes but couldn’t scream, despite the dripping blade sticking out her new husband’s neck.
Behind his head, she saw the black mask of a hunter, who muttered, âYou won’t.â His eyes flashed to hers, as he added, âDaddy says it’s time to come home.â
This one took me to a place I hadn’t expected. So, I think I’ll borrow from Neeks’s own name, here, and end with… EEK!
Why not try your hand at Neeks’s new contest? It’s great fun!
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