Tell me…

I’m surprised to see where you are today. Where are the binders of stories, drawings, plays, and poems? I’ve got a couple filled out already, but all I see on your shelf our textbooks of equations and binders of regulations. Though you write on the computer your files are not nearly as full as they should be for twenty years of writing and cannot find any CD’s stashed away either. Your decor has changed. Do you no longer reach for the stars? Do you no longer dream? Is you imagination waning or is there more that I do not know yet? Tell me…


Ghoulish Flash Fiction A to Z: Fairy/Fae (Many cultures worldwide)-Sunday Poetry

a9feffc2377a07c05a617ac22579c4f5Don’t ask her to stop and play
Run and hide
She brings the darkness of the fae

Happiness will give way
To an evil tide
Don’t ask her to stop and play

Skies turn dark and gray
And the Earth divides
She brings the darkness of the fae

If you see her just back away
Hide your eyes
Don’t ask her to stop and play

She’s coming this way
Step to the side
Don’t ask her to stop and play
She brings the darkness of the fae

—–87 words—-

Another poetic haunting inspired by the fae.

Trifextra Week Sixty-Three: Imagination

Trifextra: Week Sixty-Three

This weekend we’re asking for exactly 33 of your own words inspired by the following quote from the book you could win in the WBN giveaway. Good luck!

“It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.” ― Paulo CoelhoAlchemist

So here is my entry this weekend…


Shadows dancing in the mind

Until letters become words

Syllables formulate into poetry

Lines become flowers of prose

Intricate weaving of story

Magic leaping from the page

Sparking golden wonderment

True Alchemy


Fried and Frazzled

Camille made up to the cover of the bar, breathless, hair a mess, fried from the sun and frazzled from her encounter with the Hercules, “Great here I am in paradise and I’m more interested in fantasy than reality. Oh Camille, when will you ever get your act together?”

As Camille pondered her need to escape into her romance novels she felt a tap on her shoulder,”Excuse me miss, you forgot your towel.”

“Oh, thanks,” Camille smiled shyly.

“Can I buy you a drink,” Hercules grinned.


Continuation of Beach Romance


5 Sentence Fiction-Paradise

Lillie McFerrin Writes







NaNoWriMo-Day 5

Day 5 and already behind. I had no motivation to write this weekend so I didn’t. Ugh and I have a really busy week and next weekend ahead. Got in 1,657 words today though and I’m going to tomorrow night’s write in, if it’s still on. (I think its at a polling local?) Got some more of the intro in and some of the ending. So writing out of order. Any way time to rest the weary muse…

Troubled Muse

Hermes could smell the hot, sweat of the Muse as she labored, dragging the prose ever longer. Dissatisfied with the result she over-hauled the soliloquy for a shorter, better version to satisfy the gods. Sharp laughter radiated her pen; Hermes was not pleased with the monologue  Again she started over, but she would not quit.

Creative Copy Challenge #284

Letter to the Past

Dear 14 year old Jennifer,

This is your 28 year old self writing to you from the future with some advice. No, I’m not going to tell you all the future. To do so could change to course of human history as we know for better or worse. Anyway, I want to tell you about one event that either you may have already participated in or are going to very soon. I can’t quite remember the exact time, but I remember the events and consequences vividly.

They’re putting together some kind of writing journal for the school and you who love to write are going to enter. Even despite what I’m about to tell you will still enter you works if you have not already done so. You have or will soon amassed a variety of poetry, short stories, and plays, some not very happy in nature. But then again you are a teenager and you’re just writing what you feel and what you know and what you imagination creates.

There will be an exhibit or open house of some sort and the journal and your writings will be there as will you and your family and friends will show up. There will be one particular piece that you are particular proud of, a real creative mastering so you think at the time. (And I still think so too.)

Perhaps you’ve already written the piece and you know the one I’m talking about.  You were outside you’re element that day, creative juices flowing. Not a particular pleasant or happy piece though.

Anyway, at this event, you work is read, and a certain someone is quite ‘displeased’ (if you will) with your work. “How could you write that? What were you thinking? What will everyone think when they read this?” They question you work over all and perhaps you’ve already guess whom I’m referring too, but they single out that one particular piece that is your centerpiece for your works in this journal.

You are mortified, distraught, your works stomped upon. It’s the harsh truth. In fact you stop writing, aside from assignments in high school. No writing in college either. It takes you nearly 14 years to start writing again.

If there is one piece of advice, one small piece of history for you to change, that is, “KEEP WRITING!” Ignore those hurtful words, they mean nothing.  I am here to tell you from the future that to keep writing is worth every moment of embarrassment and mortification. Your creativity and imagination is like a muscle that you need to exercise and I’m a bit rusty. It’s up to you to not let this go 14 years.

Best Wishes,

Your Future Self