Monday, December 16, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
NYC Midnight Contest Update
The combined scores for rounds one and two determined who was to go on to round three. Only the top five in each group can continue. I placed 6th!! So close, but not enough. =)/=(
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Creative Writing - Reckless Abandon
***Copyright 2013, Jessica Wolfe Reifsnyder***
NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Round #2. As with the first challenge, we had 48 hours, a 1,000 word limit, and had to write based on prompts. The assignment for my group this round: [Genre] Romantic Comedy [Location] At the Zoo [Object] A Traffic Light. Brief synopsis: Breaking free from the constraints of a tedious and lonely existence, one girl takes a chance, discovering a blossoming new love and lighting the way to a new life.
"Reckless Abandon"
Nothing exciting ever happened at the zoo. You might not think it, but when you're there day in and day out, it gets rather boring. Aurora sighed, trying to endure the noisy crowd and obnoxious company of better-than-you bitches she was stuck with. She glanced disinterestedly at the official looking tour guide, or zoologist, or some important Who-Knows-Who talking to a group of kids about the zoo's latest efforts to facilitate the animals' natural population growth or some such thing. She wandered from the edge of the group. She got so tired of the frigid attitudes. She was tired of feeling so unwanted, so alone and invisible even when surrounded by so many people. She stared at a traffic light just outside the zoo gates; watched it change over and over again. This is my life, she thought. Mundane, unimportant, loveless.
Unfamiliar movement caught her eye. She looked over to see a wall bordering a new space she hadn't noticed before. She craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse beyond it. Now this was interesting! Standing on the edge of a rock, Aurora was able to see a few guys wandering around on the other side. Most of them were not bad looking at all. One of the less-than-handsome blokes caught her eye, though. He sported freakishly erratic hair and a nasty scar across his wide face. He seemed intimidating and amusingly puckish all at once. He looks like a mad scientist! A chuckle crawled up her throat and she quickly glanced behind her at the girls who were busy being cool and spilling drivel from their jabbering mouths. They hadn't even noticed she'd broken off from the group. Rolling her eyes, she turned back toward this bit of welcome diversion. Oh, shit! She hopped down quickly. She had every intention of running away like a little school girl, but her foot slipped and she fell on her ass. Ouch! Knowing she had no chance of getting away quickly enough, she just sat there, trying to breathe, trying desperately to look believably nonchalant.
"Hey," Mr. Scar Face said, leaning coolly against the wall she'd apparently not-so-subtly been peering over. His arms actually glistened in the sunlight. She felt heat flood through her as she took in the sight of him in this closer proximity. Damn! He's chiseled like a freaking ice sculpture! "Uh, hi" was all she could manage. She could smell him. A thick, musky smell. Without thinking, she inhaled deeply; nostrils flared, eyes closed. Realizing what she'd just done, blood rushed to her head. Oh my god. . . If he noticed, he was gentleman enough to ignore her marish behavior. Her stomach fluttered and clenched, though not an altogether uncomfortable feeling. She glanced up shyly, but felt overwhelmed and her gaze fell quickly. He nodded over toward the group who had begun watching curiously. "You with them?" They were slowly edging closer. Probably drawn by the strong magnetic force of pure, animal attraction, she supposed. Geez, what is WRONG with me!? He certainly wasn't suave enough to be appealing to most of them, but his body was that of a god! "I guess," she said. "I mean, I came here with them, but. . ." she shrugged "I'm not really one of them." He nodded. She sensed he knew the feeling. She was conscious of every breath, every cough and random noise as silence seemed to settle around them. "Hey," he said abruptly, "let's give 'em something to really talk about!" He winked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. She thought they looked as though they held the North Star in them. A devilish grin spread across his face. She stared. Delicious!
Aurora shook her head as if to clear her mind; obviously, there were cobwebs making a delirious mess of it. He was an absolute stranger and here she was all twitterpated, letting herself get swept away by a deep voice and strangely attractive face. He gestured for her to come over and it was all she could do to not drool. It was not just attraction she was feeling, though, and she couldn't understand it. Why did she feel as though she knew him; had always known him? A sudden laugh broke forth and before she could change her mind, she bounded to the wall, scaling it. She dropped to the other side, breathless with excitement. Standing so close to him that she could feel the heat from his body, she thought frantically, this is so reckless! Yet she felt safer than she ever had before. She looked back at her group who were now stunned and outright staring. She'd always felt so out of place with them. And here, with this stranger, she somehow felt like herself. Not self-conscious, not invisible; not even scared. And she didn’t even care what the others thought! Somehow she felt an unexplainable trust and a certainty that this was just. . .right!
Feeling braver and more alive than ever, she looked up at him with enamored abandon. "I'm Aurora," she said.
A brilliant smile lit his face. "Borealis," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
***
Outside the Polar Bear enclosure, zoo officials and an excited crowd of onlookers watched with bated breath, eager to see if the recent acquisition would, in fact, be a success and result in a new addition to their species and exhibit. It was looking promising!
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Creative Writing - Exercise/Self Challenge
GENRE: Fantasy / LOCATION: A Train Station / OBJECT: A Bottle of Wine
This is not the challenge my group was assigned for round two of the NYC Midnight flash fiction competition, but I loved the prompts and their potential so much, I wanted to have a go at it. (I am not allowed to post my submission until I've received the entry confirmation.)
Over the past several weeks, I have been 'forced' to put my head down and work; been challenged to explore outside the familiar and to stretch myself beyond the subjects and styles with which I am comfortable. This experience has been exciting, frustrating, and I've loved it! I've determined that regardless of whether I continue on to round three, regardless of the outcome of this particular competition, I need to keep at this - keep pushing myself to write and to expand my realms of writing. So this is what I will be working on for the next few weeks.
I'm giving myself 'til November 30th and a 3,000 word limit. Ready, Set, GO!
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Friday, October 4, 2013
Creative Writing - Unhappy Endings
***Copyright 2013, Jessica Wolfe Reifsnyder***
Challenge #1 for NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Writing Competition. Time given to complete and submit the story: 48 hours. Word limit: 1,000. Prompts given: [Genre] Mystery; [Location] Barbershop; [Item] Maple Syrup. Synopsis: A man in a quiet little town finds himself musing, often lost in his own thoughts, about the recent disappearance of a girl from the local Barber & Brothel stop. While Authorities seem to have few leads, this man's wandering mind guides us through his memories of that fateful day, toward enlightenment, and ultimately, the truth.
No one saw it coming. Thought this was a safe town. Didn't know The Girl myself, but it still has me shook up pretty bad. I mean, this is the kind of thing you hear about in the news - some tragic, distant event. Things like this don't happen here. Nora called had to be fifteen times. By the time her messages deteriorated to wordless, emphatically loud hang-ups, thought maybe I should call her back. But I haven't. Guess it's thoughtful and all for her to check on me, but I just really don't see the point. Hell, not much point in much anymore.
I pass The Shop on my early morning walk. It’s like its own little ghost town now. The lively Beards, Beers, ‘N Broads! sign starkly contrasts its current state, the chains squealing as it waffles in the breeze. An old geezer with a newspaper sits on the porch. I squint up at the weathered, spinning candy cane that has a hitch in it. Heh!...Looks like it has hiccups. Mac always said he ought to fix the thing, but he never much cared for spending money 'less he had to.
Two Suits approach me. It’s too early for this shit. Haven't even had my coffee yet. They want to know if I remember the day The Girl went missing. 'Course I do. I figure everyone in this little town does. Most think she's long-dead by now. Guess maybe they're still hoping otherwise. "Yeah," I tell 'em. "I remember. Don't know there's much I can help you with, though." Tall Guy says they're talking to everyone; anything could help.
"Well, I was gettin’ my usual at The Shop. Not that I took part in that latter bit, mind you." I tilt my head toward the sign. "Never did venture to the second floor." Couldn't do that to Lily. Usually heard enough through the ceiling to get me off once I'd downed a couple and got back home to that old framed picture of her on my nightstand. My favorite of her. She'd just got out of the shower and her hair lay in shiny, clumped ringlets over her shoulder. Her blouse was open just a tad too low, skirt riding up her thigh as she squatted by the stove with a cup of coffee. Caught her off guard and snapped it just as she looked up over the rim of the mug with those big eyes. Gone nearly five years now. I sigh. The Suits shift and clear their throats. "Oh, right. Sorry. Mind drifts a lot these days..."
"Yeah…was about a month ago now, right? It was a hot day, I remember that. Quiet, too. Hardly anyone out this part of town. No other customers while I was here. Jake was actin' real funny. Like he was waitin' for some monster to jump out and eat ’im. He'd usually be chattin' up the girls’ Signature Specials. Was always tryin' to sell me them extras. But that day, no…he was real squirrelly and tight-lipped." I scratch at a small scar on my neck without thinking.
Reached for the cigar in my pocket. Jake's hand jumped. "Dammit, Jake!" My hand flew to my neck, just below my jawline. Stung like a bastard. Blood dripped from my fingers when I pulled it away. Jake mumbled some sort of half-assed apology and handed me a towel. "What's with you, anyway? Always so fuckin' nervous." He didn't say nothin', just waited for me to lean back again. I did. Though now I was the one was nervous. "Don't go slittin' my throat if the phone rings" I growled. (Only half kidding.)
"Wasn't 'til later that night I heard on the news ’bout The Girl. She was his favorite, you know. Fact is, he was always a bit possessive of that one." The Suits share a glance. Tall Guy clears his throat again. Says Jake's missing, too. I blink. Try to process. "Mac don’t even know where he is? Shit." They ask if I've been back since. "Pass by every mornin’. But inside? Nah. Can’t bring myself to." They say to get in touch if I hear anything about Jake. My stomach churns, rumbles loudly. They thank me for my time. I head home.
"So, I been thinkin'..." Pause. Jake just kept working. Didn't look up. Not even a grunt of response. He wasn’t going to make this easy. "Syri available today?" His hand froze, just for a second. He grabbed my head and pulled it back, lifting my chin high. The sound of blade against whiskers scraped through the silence. "Hear she's the best." Still nothing. "She reminds me so much of my Lily..."
I think I’ll forego the coffee. Fuck, I'll skip breakfast, too. Goin’ straight to dessert. I go into the kitchen, hook my finger through the handle of a big glass bottle. It drags with a heavy rasp along the shelf; drops off the edge, hangs from my hand. I walk through the living room. I keep remembering…
"Nora hasn't let me see her since the divorce, you know." He still doesn't say anything. "She’s twenty-one today. To my Little Girl." Raise my beer. Nothing, but I hear his teeth grind. "Syri’s about that, right? Been hearin’ about her Sweet Sauce…how she uses maple syrup for rubbin' a man off? Or suckin' 'em. Heard that's how she got her name." All at once his breath is hot against my ear. "Not you. Never. You." He throws the razor down on the counter. "Finish your own goddamn shave" he tosses over his shoulder, pushing through the door into the back room. I drop my tip into the half-empty beer glass on the counter and pick up the razor. "Suit yourself," I holler. Wipe my face. I glance at the wall of keys behind the bar. "Self-serve it is."
I open the basement door, the bottle swinging from my hand. Hear a small whimper. Yeah. I remember.
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