Alternate Version Blogfest Entry

I'm going to share my blogfest entry in a minute, but first I want to explain this photo. As usual, I was up and at my computer around 5:45 this morning. My daughter woke early, even though it's Spring Break, but I didn't realize she was up. When I came down from my office for a bathroom break, this is what I found. Sidney had transformed the hall bathroom into a crime scene. It's the first, I'm sure, of many April Fool's gags to come today.

Actually, this pic is a perfect illustration for today's post, since a crime has definitely been committed in this blog entry. The following exercise was prepared for Livia Blackburne's Alternate Version Blogfest. We were challenged to take a scene from our story and re-write it in another style.

Writing in other genres, or different styles, is hard for me! The grooves in my author's fingerprints run deep. But, in the spirit of trying something new and stretching the old writing muscles, here it goes.

This excerpt is taken from a short story called When Opposites Attract. I was already way outside my comfort zone when I wrote the story, which was penned for a contest that only accepted Speculative Fiction. Below is the original snippet, and then a new version written with the flare of drama/chick lit romance. (Although, even I don't think: (A)That's actually a real genre; and (B)that I hit my mark. :P)


Original Version

Marla caught up to him and matched his long stride. “No shit, Robb. But that’s not the point. The Federation did take over and you no longer have clearance to be here. Disobeying the Federation is an act of treason. If you’re caught…”

He spun on her, grabbing her arm in a vice-like grip. “Now why would I get caught?”

His tone was dangerous, threatening. How far before a stretched rubber band breaks? He’d already come close to the edge of reason with Marla recently, when he’d walked in on her and Steve. That day, he’d understood how people can snap, grab a weapon and take out a few well-deserving people. In the dark days that'd followed, he’d fantasized about tying Marla up, torturing her until she hurt as much as he did. He’d been pathetic, twisted by tormented emotions, but he’d gotten a grip on himself. He'd resolved to be content on hurting her in small ways every chance he got, with spiteful words and defamatory rumors, little pressure valve acts to release his emotional tension and avoid a massive explosion. But the pain was still fresh. God help her if she pushed him now.

Marla was the one to break his gaze. She looked away, hugging her files to her chest. He turned and marched on, though he was aware of her soft footfalls behind him.

Alternate Version

Marla caught up to him, the rapid-fire clacks of her stilettos echoing down the corridor. “Please, Robb! That’s not the point. You can’t be caught here; it’s too dangerous. You just can’t!”

He stopped and turned, his right eyebrow raised. “Now, why would I get caught, sweetheart?”

His voice oozed sarcasm. What did this pretty little thing know about Federation business? Not to say she wasn’t a bright woman, she was employed here, wasn’t she? His eyes drifted down from her face, settling on the rise of suntanned flesh peeking out of her low-cut blouse. Robb released a loud sigh, meeting Marla’s eyes again.

“I appreciate your concern, really I do. Hey, I have an idea,” he added brightly. “Why don’t I give you the keys to my Porche. You go on down and wait for me there, and when I’m finished here, I’ll buy you that drink we keep talking about.”

He noticed she didn’t blink her ice blue eyes. She’d turned down his advances twice already, but when you’re dealing with a goddess like Marla, it was worth another shot. His smile waned to a smirk in the vacuum of her silence. Time was wasting, but he gave her another ten seconds to decide.

Marla was the one to break his gaze. She looked away, hugging her files to her chest. He turned and marched on, though he was aware of the clickity-clack of her shoes behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you're interested in reading someone's entry who did a fantastic job with this challenge, visit Jen Brubacher @ Scribo Ergo Sum I loved reading her snippets and thought she really captured each different genre's style (she did three!)

And I hope you check out the other participants' blogs today. Find the Mr. Linky list by clicking HERE.

Have a fab day!

The Long on Short Fiction

Yesterday at Falen Formulates Fiction, I learned the short story I entered in Sarah Ahiers's 100 Followers Contest won third place! I was thrilled -- thanks, Sarah!

I encourage anyone who has never written a short story to give it a try. Writing shorts is an excellent way to experiment with your craft. We grow as writers when we challenge ourselves, step outside our writing comfort zones. However, embarking on a lengthy project with a complicated plot and large cast of characters may overwhelm an author who's writing out of her box. A short only deals with one significant moment in time, so whether you've never written from the omniscient viewpoint, or you want to attempt speculative fiction, the short story format is the perfect platform to try it out.

In the "short" category, there are a few formats to choose from:

Flash Fiction

This is the shortest of the shorts. There's no definitive definition for flash fiction, but most agree a story under 1,000 words is flash. Despite its brevity, flash fiction still must have a clear beginning, strong middle, and definite end. It should include exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution. Otherwise it is not flash fiction, but rather a vignette or scene.

Read this excellent article to better understand Flash Fiction.

Short Story

A short story is said to be a story you can read in one sitting. Again, the length of this format is debated and often comes down to the submission guidelines of each contest, magazine, or anthology. The most adhered to definition of a modern short story is one which has no more than 20,000 words and no less than 1,000.

This detailed article explains how to write a short story.

[Update: Thanks to Lindsay Duncan @ Unicorn Ramblings for pointing out that there is another format nestled in here between short story and novella. The Novelette is a category of short fiction said to have a word count between 7,500 and 17,499 words (according to Wikipedia) However, the same article points out that "The terms novelette and novelettish can also be derogatory, suggesting fiction which is 'trite, feeble or sentimental'."

When I checked online dictionaries, I found in Free Online Dictionary that the first definition of a novelette is "an extended narrative or short story," while the second definition is "a novel that is regarded as being slight, trivial, or sentimental." (HERE) And on YourDictionary.com the single definition for novelette is "a short novel, sometimes, specif., one regarded as inferior in quality, banal, overly commercial, etc." (HERE) Thanks, Lindsay, for your comment that led to this research!]

Novella

A novella is a renegade literary form in that it characterizes both a short story and a novel. Like a short story, a novella has a somewhat concise plot. The time frame is generally compact, and the reader often knows little about what happened before or after the time period of the story. A novella also mimics a novel because the story is organized in chapter-like segments and enjoys the freedom to explore its characters and plot in greater depth than does a short story. It typically is said to have between 17,500 words and 40,000.

Examples of famous novellas include John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea.

Have you ever written a short story? What's your favorite platform for experimenting with your craft?

My Truth and an Excerpt to Prove It

Almost every lie I wrote yesterday held a grain of truth, but there was nothing false about the two that were true. Of course, I've written stories about the most harrowing of my life's adventures, so my Tuesday Teaser will follow, a snippet from that story. But first:

1. I earned my doctorate in Rhetorical Speaking from the State University of New York at Oswego. Nope. I earned a Bachelor's in Rhetorical Communications from that school.

2. We have seven pets: a Shitzu puppy named Sammy, a Himalayan Persian cat named Pumpkin, an African Gray parrot named C.J., two love birds called Happy and Mango, a Betta Fish called Mr. Odie, and a frog named Jeremiah that hatched from a tadpole we caught in the pond out back. False! We have a Betta named Mr. Odie, but the other pets ALL live with my sister.

3. A ten-foot-long shark swam right alongside me while I was looking for seashells in water up to my knees on the Florida coast. TRUE! I was beach combing on a six a.m. walk, and I thought it was a dolphin in the water. I couldn't believe I was that close to a dolphin and in my excitement, I waded further in and walked alongside it. When it didn't surface for air I became suspicious, but when it thrashed its head I was sure: it was a shark, trolling the shore for breakfast.

4. I trained for three months and won at the regional level (Southeastern U.S.) of the Fitness America Competition. No...but I did place third!

5. I was kidnapped at gunpoint by machine gun-toting rebels during an African civil war. 100% True. See excerpt below.

6. One summer, I juiced three cucumbers a day, and drinking the juice made my hair grow six inches in three and a half months. No way.

7. In 1991, I shook Madonna's hand on the red carpet when she arrived for the premier of Truth or Dare in Hollywood, CA. Untrue-ish. I was there, and Madonna stepped out of her limo fifteen feet in front of me. But I didn't shake her hand.

8. I speak four languages: English (duh), French, Spanish, and an African dialect called Sango. Nope, I only speak three languages. No hablo Espagnol.

I apologize in advance for only offering a short excerpt of the following. In the Face of Danger, which tells the story of my abduction by rebel soldiers during the 1996 mutant army uprising in the Central African Republic, is currently submitted to The New Millennium Awards contest in the category of Creative Non-Fiction. For this reason, I can't publish it on the web. And, for the same reason, this excerpt will only be up for one day.

Here's the set-up: I was a Peace Corps volunteer with only a few months of service left before finishing my two year, three month tour of duty. My husband Christian, who was then my fiancé, and I met there. At the time of this story, he was living ten kilometers away on his company's construction base. When the war broke out, the Peace Corp issued a country-wide evacuation, and we were to follow the Emergency Evacuation Plan implicitly. This included volunteers in the region locking ourselves in the predesignated "Safe House" and awaiting further instructions. We were not to leave under any circumstances. I did. Here's what happened:

Excerpt From: In the Face of Danger
by Nicole Ducleroir

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