Posting the Frantic Flashes

I am posting the flashes in Boot Camp in a dedicated forum. If you are not a Boot Camper and wish to see them, get a YUKU ID (yuku.com) then go HERE http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/forums/260 and post a message. I will fix access. (Obviously we need to keep stories out of the public domain.)

Listen to a Frantic Flash

http://www.capel-bethel.com/Site1/Blog/Entries/2010/1/30_Frantic_Flash_1.html

Frantic Flash Practice 02

You will wake soon, I will go
This will need to be checked out, then we'll see
MAYFLY
I dreamt of the perfect story
BIG BROTHER
Tell me about the future, I want to know
HARDBACK
For five days we waited
TORTOISE
A crisp, fresh page
STICK
Remember me when you are gone
THE WHOLE TRUTH
I am too well to be a poet
AUSTERITY BRITAIN
It is like, after too far in the rain, you see a light
TAPE
There is a cold field somewhere, and gold
WATCH
After, we laid in the sun and wept
Where is the boy now, what is he?
CHINK
Owl, white as light
We could build a bridge, or a castle
CHAIN
At your ear, something breathless, rising
For all the mothers in pain
Where dead feet walked
I walked with sorrow, listening to her silence and understanding

Frantic Flash Practice 01

Stories due at the very latest 23;50


We are waiting, listless, breathing shallowly
SUBSIST
A Madness of Ashes
The walls are high enough, for we are small and feeble
It's not easy to admit
There are small heroes, just as heroic
Van & Wheelchair
A pebble in her shoe
Standing Stones
Caravan
iPad, Oh I-PAD!!
Ping, something has arrived
It isn’t just the crying
You are sitting, I am sitting. One of us should speak
Boiled Egg
Old Fart’s Ticket
Books for ten pence
Fiddle! Fiddle!
And BEFORE the big bang?
The boys have been playing poker
My mother has sold my books
Sheds, Pigeons
A little bit of luck would have seen us through
Nail
From the backs of pick-up trucks
If you love me, build
Read to me by candle-light, your soft voice
Wearing an old coat
At least the roof doesn't leak
Progress
Are you happy to be in this picture?
Beef
Drifting, Salt

Friday's Frantic Flash Prompts

Women in neon passing the window
Career Path
Plain-Clothes detectives are operating in this store
Tripod
What I was about to say
In my attic
She leaves the nursery and begins to walk
There is a pause in the music
Another Toy
I will choose a child not my colour
All the ships have left, the last plane
A Silver Bracelet
So I opened the parcel
ACID
I stood once, at a window in a storm
Tomorrow or Not Eating
Electricity
SAND
And for another twenty-five pounds, a neat leather wallet

Frozen Shoulder

I Have My Lover's Heart (in the fridge)

Come Live With Me and be my fuck-buddy

Shall I compare thee to a 0-0 draw in Crewe on a wet Monday?

Here, have an onion

Bloody Men!

Flea

Catch a Falling Star and Put Him in Hello

Drink to Me, Leona

Gather a few roses and that

You waste your time and mine

When I consider how my life has whistled past

Had we but world enough, and time

There is no one like Sally

Listen, the Curfew Bell

I had a goldfish

I will have a cat named Beatrice

And when a lovely woman

The harbour is still, the sea is low and swollen

11 Signed up. We want 111

Despite my losing web access we now have 11 people signed up for the Frantic Flash for Charity (raising money until end-February for Haiti

But 11 people is simply not enough!

Join us to flash for fun and competition and raise money for the islanders.


Alex

More Prompts, Thursday

So this is how it begins, with a tiny cry
I place my hope on the water*
RETREAT
Night will kiss your eyes
Cocoa
They are beating the homosexuals in the street
A small, powerful, deadly pellet


Another twenty prompts in the usual place at Boot Camp
or in the Facebook Group "Frantic Flash for Charity

22 Frantic Flash Prompts

We can, but might not, seek answers
Spare Ribs and bad wine
Telephone
My father was put on the train
Her long black hair
If I should die, think only this of me*
He sleeps
After the books, the wine-glasses, the clothing on the floor
TACK!
All men are rapists! All women are typists!
Wheelbarrow
Ted's Letters to the Gas Woman
Kindly
On the other hand, courgettes
Through bars it looks different, but it is still the sky
ANGEL
I have considered death, but it does not hold much interest
Or an acorn
There are worse jobs than whore
GLASS
Stretch-Limo From Milton Keynes
Ian Paisley's Poem

Frantic Flasher Until End-Feb for Haiti

We aim to raise money for charity at this Facebook Group

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#/group.php?gid=271582653966

and at Boot Camp


PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD.



In the first instance (for a few warm up days then all of February) the charity will be Haiti.

Members pay £20 to join. This is £10 for the anthology and £10 to Haiti

After that we raise money as follows.

Every Day we post a set of prompts, at least one set in the morning and one at night, probably more.

Members get the prompts by email at the set times and can flash "immediately" in response to one or more of the prompts.

They get a maximum of 70 minutes. Miss the cut-off you're not in the pot for that time slot.

We run a competitions as follows.

Entry (per flash) is £5. Every £300 collected is split, £150 to Haiti Relief, £100 Prize, £25 second prize, £25 to a pool for the Grand Prize. While we are raising money for Haiti, there will be deductions for judges etc, no deductions at all.

SPONSORSHIP

We would like all members/entrants to raise sponsorship either for "total words written" or "number of stories" (between now and End-February (for Haiti)

100 Members would raise 1,000 in joining fees, whatever "excess" or profit is left from the anthology, and half of any entry fees, plus sponsorship

Imagine 100 Members, entering an average of ten stories in the month and managing £500 sponsorship from friends, family, businesses

010 Joining Fee
002 Profit from Anthology
025 50% donation
500 Sponsorship

537 x 100 = 53,700


Meanwhile we have had 1,000 stories, 10-20 £100 First Prizes, loads and loads of writing fun, and we finish with a grand prize and a great anthology.


CAN WE DO IT?


Absolutely YES!

We have run highly successful "Blasts", run Frantic Flashes (more than ten competitions), have a daily flash system already, and raised tens of thousands for Children in Need.


Please join us. Tell your friends.

Sponsorship for individuals will be handled by the individuals. We will only collect the joining fee and flash entry fees.

JOIN US!

Tuesday's prompts

The rest of the prompts are in Boot Camp

http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/topic/12305/master/1/



Here is a taster

Lines with an asterisk are a direct quote

Other things to do in a library
The photographs opened it all up
Size -2 is the new thin
I a running through feathers, choking
They set about him with a knife and fork*
The third lie down, six lies before the end
Press Button A. Press Buton A. Press Button A.
The Terminal Conditions of Miss Jean Bickerstaffe

Monday 26 Prompts

26 Prompts in the usual place

http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/topic/12300/master/1/?page=1

Argh! I wrote twenty-five prompts and they disappeared.



01 A selection of useful pills
02 OLIVE
03 Six hours in a stranger's town
15 Numb with frost but still moving
18 Sat on a wall
19 No-one made you eat it. No-one made you
20 God is a lousy witness
26 I a old, I am old. I will wear my trousers rolled

Sunday Prompts

Twenty-Four prompts in the usual place at Boot camp

http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/topic/12291/master/1/

Here is a taster



01 The lake before it rises

02 His Permanent Address

03 Going out to the island until the light

04 Mummy's Puppy Guard-Dogs

05 Burnley

06 When we talk about love

24 Iceland

Dogs without Typos

This has just been posted elsehwere in Boot Camp

It's straight of the bat, unedited, take it as it comes. IMO it's far more fun, more real and true than a carefully edited, "constructed" article where the truth is slowly edited out. (EDIT) I shall now remove typos!

THREE WRITERS


Three Writers are walking together and they see a small dog in the rain,
perhaps waiting patiently at a closed door, or trotting miserably down the road.

They all physically see the dog.

Writer 1 couldn't give a sh---. It's just a dog in the rain.

Writer 2 feels sorry for the dog, and vaguely thinks of a story and wonders if he can use the image...

Writer 3 feels a blow in his stomach. Something rises somewhere, a heat, the vaguest of memories.
It feels as if the dog, its predicament, the image WAS SENT TO HIM.

IT PHYSICALLY HURTS. IT ACHES.

Dorthea Brande argued that when we are "tweaked" by something like this
it's because the image, the something, the snippet of conversation, a smell,
a colour, a sunset, whatever, CONNECTS TO SOMETHING INSIDE

Something old, something deep and possibly painful, something forgotten
or suppressed... we are feeling the power in the image of the dog but it is
actually the power of the vaguely-jostled deep memory. We might write in
the now but the power is in the way back then.

We do not need to ever KNOW what the original thing was, or the pains
if they were pains, but we "revisit" the swelling darkness of it, and allow it
to work its psychic dark magic on us.


What the memory or memories is or are is hardly the point. A common error when
reading this is to imagine that we must REMEMBER, actually recall the specifics.


WE DO NOT

In fact true so-called remembrance might well spoil the swelling story.


Memories that have been forgotten or suppressed may well have been forgotten
or suppressed for a reason. Trying to go there, trying to switch on a light and
understand the SPECIFICS is almost certain to be unsuccessful.

The writer does not need to know or remember or understand the darkness,
he or she merely needs to sense it, let it wash over, let its weight and truth
and hot winds affect today.

TWO WAYS OF ACCESSING

The Slow Burn, the Fermentation


We see something, our dog in the rain, for example. It thuds in the gut or the heart
(or the soul if we are lucky.)

We MUST NOT write about it.
We MUST NOT write about it.
We MUST NOT write about it.
We MUST NOT write about it.

We MUST NOT write about it. We must WAIT. We must allow the opening to open more, the weight and smell and pressure
to be combined and the NEED to grow until it forces its way out and we can no longer resist writing.

But of course we must not rely on memory to hold the idea safe. We need to have a way
of maintaining the faint connection and revisit every day, poking it with a stick, BUT

this but is important

BUT WE MUST NOT LOOK AT IT BECAUSE OF THE SENTINELS.

We need to tickle, prod, coax, but in the most minor ways. We absolutely
MUST NOT sit and think, stare at the problem, ask ourselves questions,
go left-brained, "wrack our brains" trying to remember.

It is NOT the incident, it is the emotional response we are looking for.


Let us make up an incident that happened to us when we were barely three. The obvious suppressed memory might be physical or sexual abuse, or perhaps “you” as a child saw a man beaten badly or a father beat a mother, or a dog cruelly run down and abandoned. There are a million possibilities including irrational childhood fears that have no connection to actuality.

IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT IS.

This is so important and few believe me. I say again, if there is or was a specific event (such as a beating, a murder, rape, a fire, a terrible illness, stumbling in on a parent having sex with a stranger, or merely some horrendous dream) IT-DOES-NOT-MATTER. You do not EVER need to recall the specifics, or even “know” what the incident (now fuzzy) was approximately.

Let’s say there was a dog in the rain and “somehow” way back when that image was associated with something awful (any of the above)… If it was suppressed by your psychic defences (I call these the Sentinels) why ON EARTH do you suppose they would just roll over after forty years and say, “Fair cop, guv, you remembered, we give in, what happened was this…”

Do you think the Sentinels are that dumb? Do you think, nearer to the events they didn’t have to deal with the memories? They know every trick in the book. Uh-oh, she’s sniffing round, better give her a “memory”, side-track her.

The harder you look, the less likely you are to discover truth.

Psychiatrists have known this for a hundred years. You have to sneak up on the truth and trick it.

But even now I’m misleading you or your getting the wrong end of the stick. I say again, it is not necessary to dig through and find the awful treasure.

It is not THE thing but the response to the thing that matters. To write with deep power does not mean you have to dig into the horrors or joys. What we seek is the heat of dark memories, the things that make us what we have become.

In this case, remember we saw a dog in the rain. We were Writer 3. The others didn’t have any connection triggered.

We write on our white board, “Little dog in the rain” or something similar. Maybe we have a photograph, or find something that is close enough that we can re-trigger the gut-feeling. DO NOT WRITE ABOUT IT.

Instead look at the white-board, THIS dog in the rain, and “think without thinking” just FEEL the image. The soft tendrils reaching back will feel for connections, and eventually they will be made. It might take 3 days. It might take months, years.

In the same way as the dog didn’t touch Writer 1, interested Writer 2 and blew away Writer 3, so it is with books, poems, short-stories, films, plays, TV shows, news reports, adverts. Different things hit us with differing intensities, BECAUSE OF WHO WE ARE and because of our deep pasts, especially the first twenty years.

If we re-awaken (and look away from) our dog in the rain connection, slowly “down there” deep in the soul, other things begin to connect.

Maybe for me (I’m making this up) I will see this trigger-dog, the similar-but-not-the-same photograph, keep hearing Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah, remember (what?) a sad advert featuring a wet dog, think of a poem by Blake, a play by Pinter, almost remember my first wife and the dog we found, combine a story a poem, a TV serial, The Railway Children, 2001, then for some reason remember “Steve” from the children’s home and how he got angry and pushed the home leader down the stairs, oh and I broke a snooker cue, and there was the day I stole the rugby money, and and and…

Whether any of these things emerge clearly or merely in their essence is neither here nor there. The point is MY connections, what connects to what will be different from YOUR connections and probably driven by different deepnesses.

All we have to do is keep prodding, very, very gently, and with our eyes closed.

At some point, words, images, feelings, maybe lines will “want to write themselves down”. DON’T.

Just as we shouldn’t dive in Day One, so we shouldn’t dive in after a one-month pregnancy unless the story is screaming to burst from us like the Alien from John Hurt’s belly.

THINK maybe (not AT ALL about the original driving force, still probably unseen) but about this sense you have, this story that keeps rising up, something about a piano, a dog, a gas-fire. What’s that sound, that tone of voice? Who is the woman? Is it her dog? (All these questions and half-answers should be RIGHT brained, vague, NOT an interrogation…)

But there’s a line that keeps coming, something like Jennifer Merridrew, unmarried, but not a maiden, hides behind her piano, her fingers still…

THERE IS NO LAW THAT SAYS YOU MUST WRITE THAT LINE DOWN NOW!!

So why did it come, where’s the dog? I dunno. But the stars are aligning for you, some wormhole through space is forming, you have found (almost found) a back way past the Sentinels. Remember they look IN THE LEFT BRAIN not the right. Put anything in that left brain, think deliberately and they are back on the case.

Maybe you write “Piano” beside the dog on your white board. Everything should be, MUST be, vague, loose, unspecific, open-ended. Go to your surgeon and ask if you can have your left brain removed.

PLAY with the words, sounds, tone, feel and start thinking ONLY of the opening lines. That opening contains the whole of the story, all the deep connections, the tendrils, the connections to the darkness. Slightly different openings will start to feel sort-of right, others righter. It’s like trying to find Radio Luxembourg on your transistor radio that you sneaked into your bedroom. Tune in. Eventually, often very suddenly you find the channel, the signal is perfect. THE OPENING WRITES ITSELF.

It takes me, sometimes, YEARS to persuade a single Boot Camper of the power of this approach. Few TRULY believe me when I say that 98% of the time the ONLY thing I know when I start a story, finally start it on the screen or page, is that opening and that I simply “know” that the whole story will fall at my feet.

Of the stories in Ballistics, of all my first-prize winners, at least 80% will have been written like this. Now ALL my stories are “written like this.”

And I a fully aware this appears to be the total opposite of the principles of flashing.

It is not. Flashing, as will be explained, is a cheap-but-effective-trick, a sneak-in-the-back-door way of APPROXIMATING all that I have just talked about.

More on Dogs in the Rain

This has just been posted in Boot Camp

It's straight of the bat, unedited, take it as it comes. IMO it's far more fun, more real and true than a carefully edited, "constructed" article where the truth is slowly edited out.

Three Writers are walking together and they see a small dog in the rain,
perhaps waiting patiently at a closed door, or trotting miserably down the road.

They all physically see the dog.

Writer 1 couldn't give a sh---. It's just a dog in the rain.

Writer 2 feels sorry for the dog, and vaguely thinks of a story and wonders if he can use the image...

Writer 3 feels a blow in his stomach. Something rises somewhere, a heat, the vaguest of memories.
It feels as if the dog, its predicament, the image WAS SENT TO HIM. IT PHYSICAL HURST. IT ACHES.

Dorthea Brande argued that when we are "tweaked" by something like this
it's because the image, the something, the snippet of conversation, a smell,
a colour, a sunset, whatever, CONNECTS TO SOMETHING INSIDE

Something old, something deep and possibly painful, something forgotten
or suppressed... we are feeling the power in the image of the dog but it is
actually the power of the vaguely jostled deep memory. We might write in
the now but the power is in the way back then.

We do not need to every KNOW what the original thing was, or the pains
if they were pains, but we "revisit" the swelling darkness of it, and allow it
to work it's psychic dark magic on us.


What the memory or memories is or are is hardly the point. A common error when
reading this is to imagine that we must REMEMBER, actually recall the specifics.


WE DO NOT

In fact true so-called remembrance might well spoil the swelling story.


Memories that have been forgotten or suppressed may well have been forgotten
or suppressed for a reason. Trying to go there, trying to switch on a light and
understand the SPECIFICS is almost certain to be unsuccessful.

The writer does not need to know or remember or understand the darkness,
he or she merely needs to sense it, let it wash over, let its weight and truth
and hot winds affect today.

TWO WAYS OF ACCESSING

We see something, our dog in the rain, for example. It thuds in the gut or the heart
(or the soul if we are lucky.)

We MUST NOT write about it.
We MUST NOT write about it.
We MUST NOT write about it.
We MUST NOT write about it.

We MUST NOT write about it. We must WAIT. We must allow the opening to open more, the weight and smell and pressure
to be combined and the NEED to grow until it forces its way out and we can no longer resist writing.

But of course we must not rely on memory to hold the idea safe. We need to have a way
of maintaining the faint connection and revisit every day, poking it with a stick, BUT

this but is important

BUT WE MUST NOT LOOK AT IT BECAUSE OF THE SENTINELS.

We need to tickle, prod, coax, but in the most minor ways. We absolutely
MUST NOT sit and think, stare at the problem, ask ourselves questions,
go left-brained, "wrack our brains" trying to remember.

It is NOT the incident, it is the emotional response we are looking for.


Let us make up an incident that happened to us when we were barely three. The obvious suppressed memory might be physical or sexual abuse, or perhaps “you” as a child saw a man beaten badly or a father beat a mother, or a dog cruelly run down and abandoned. There are a million possibilities including irrational childhood fears that have no connection to actuality.

IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT IS.

This is so important and few believe me. I say again, if there is or was a specific event (such as a beating, a murder, rape, a fire, a terrible illness, stumbling in on a parent having sex with a stranger, or merely some horrendous dream) IT-DOES-NOT-MATTER. You do not EVER need to recall the specifics, or even “know” what the incident (now fuzzy) was approximately.

Let’s say there was a dog in the rain and “somehow” way back when that image was associated with something awful (any of the above)… If it was suppressed by your psychic defences (I call these the Sentinels) why ON EARTH do you suppose they would just roll over after forty years and say, “Fair cop, guv, you remembered, we give in, what happened was this…”

Do you think the Sentinels are that dumb? Do you think, nearer to the events they didn’t have to deal with the memories? They know every trick in the book. Uh-oh, she’s sniffing round, better give her a “memory”, side-track her. The harder you look, the less likely you are to discover truth.

Psychiatrists have known this for a hundred years. You have to sneak up on the truth and trick it.

But even now I’m misleading you or your getting the wrong end of the stick. I say again, it is not necessary to dig through and find the awful treasure.

It is not THE thing but the response to the thing that matters. To write with deep power does not mean you have to dig into the horrors or joys. What we seek is the heat of dark memories, the things that make us what we have become.

In this case, remember we saw a dog in the rain. We were Writer 3. The others didn’t have any connection triggered.

We write on our white board, “Little dog in the rain” or something similar. Maybe we have a photograph, or find something that is close enough that we can re-trigger the gut-feeling. DO NOT WRITE ABOUT IT.

Instead look at the white-board, THIS dog in the rain, and “think without thinking” just FEEL the image. The soft tendrils reaching back will feel for connections, and eventually they will be made. It might take 3 days. It might take months, years.

In the same way as the dog didn’t touch Writer 1, interested Writer 2 and blew away Writer 3, so it is with books, poems, short-stories, films, plays, TV shows, news reports, adverts. Different things hit us with differing intensities, BECAUSE OF WHO WE ARE and because of our deep pasts, especially the first twenty years.

If we re-awaken (and look away from) our dog in the rain connection, slowly “down there” deep in the soul, other things begin to connect.

Maybe for me (I’m making this up) I will see this trigger-dog, the similar-but-not-the-same photograph, keep hearing Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah, remember (what?) a sad advert featuring a wet dog, think of a poem by Blake, a play by Pinter, almost remember my first wife and the dog we found, combine a story a poem, a TV serial, The Railway Children, 2001, then for some reason remember “Steve” fro the children’s home and how he got angry and pushed the home leader down the stairs, oh and I broke a snooker cue, and there was the day I stole the rugby money, and and and…

Whether any of these things emerge clearly or merely in their essence is neither here nor there. The point is MY connections, what connects to what will be different fro YOUR connections and probably driven by different deepnesses.

All we have to do is keep prodding, very, very gently, and with our eyes closed.

At some point, words, images, feelings, maybe lines will “want to write themselves down”. DON’T.

Just as we shouldn’t dive in Day One, so we shouldn’t dive in after a one-month pregnancy unless the story is screaming to burst from us like the Alien from John Hurt’s belly.

THINK maybe (not AT ALL about the original driving force, still probably unseen) but about this sense you have, this story that keeps rising up, something about a piano, a dog, a gas-fire. What’s that sound, that tone of voice? Who is the woman? Is it her dog? (All these questions and half-answers should be RIGHT brained, vague, NOT an interrogation…)

But there’s a line that keeps coming, something like Jennifer Merridrew, unmarried, but not a maiden, hides behind her piano, her fingers still…

THERE IS NO LAW THAT SAYS YOU MUST WRITE THAT LINE DOWN NOW!! So why did it come, where’s the dog? I dunno. But the stars are aligning for you, some wormhole through space is forming, you have found (almost found) a back way past the Sentinels. Remember they look IN THE LEFT BRAIN not the right. Put anything in that left brain, think deliberately and they are back on the case.

Maybe you write “Piano” beside the dog on your white board. Everything should be, MUST be, vague, loose, unspecific, open-ended. Go to your surgeon and ask if you can have your left brain removed.

PLAY with the words, sounds, tone, feel and start thinking ONLY of the opening lines. That opening contains the whole of the story, all the deep connections, the tendrils, the connections to the darkness. Slightly different openings will start to feel sort-of right, others righter. It’s like trying to find Radio Luxembourg on your transistor radio that you sneaked into your bedroom. Tune in. Eventually, often very suddenly you find the channel, the signal is perfect. THE OPENING WRITES ITSELF.

It takes me, sometimes, YEARS to persuade a single Boot Camper of the power of this approach. Few TRULY believe me when I say that 98% of the time the ONLY thing I know when I start a story, finally start it on the screen or page, is that opening and that I simply “know” that the whole story will fall at my feet.

Of the stories in Ballistics, of all my first-prize winners, at least 80% will have been written like this. Now ALL my stories are “written like this.”

And I a fully aware this appears to be the total opposite of the principles of flashing.

It is not. Flashing, as will be explained, is a cheap-but-effective-trick, a sneak-in-the-back-door way of APPROXIMATING all that I have just talked about.

6 + 18 Prompts for Saturday

01 iGod
02 An apple, glistening with water
03 We were all made for the plough and arrow
04 God found him drinking cider
05 And I must love

24 I am lying, somewhere in this, but truthful too.

The rest are at Boot Camp Keegan

Part of a Discussion in Boot Camp

THERE ARE THREE BASIC WAYS OF APPROACHING A STORY

1

Get an idea. Grab at it. Start writing.
This almost always results in a story which wasn't really what you wanted.

Or you, from the idea, plan, decide, manipulate, force.
This almost always results in a story which wasn't really what you wanted
and even if you end up with the story you THINK was what you wanted, it isn't.

And if it IS the story you wanted, it won't have soul or surprise
and it will look left-brained, plotted, manufactured, without heart

2

Get an idea (or feeling) save it, let it ferment and
connect, don't write it until it forces itself up out of you.
This is using the unconscious, the YOU of you. Who and what you are.

3

Use prompts and the pressure of time, no-time-to-think
so that the left-brain processes cannot be unleashed. The psyche
has to resort to primitive connections and these (approximately)
will be the deep stuff, the stuff you are.



Flashing from prompts is a way of accessing deep connections "at will" almost.

It's not the same as wallowing, nurturing, fermenting stories (sometimes for over a year)
but it DOES often catch the unexpected and the true rising up from within.

Friday's Prompts

24 Prompts again today over at BC

HERE

http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/forums/252





06 Granny showed us a gun, another gun

07 I don't see cats any more, or drizzle

08 There is bald and angry bald

09 Not About Her Father

10 On Sundays they did not speak and the hall-clock boomed like a coming animal

11 On being a flea. Gotcha!

Openings

Over in Boot Camp the New Year (started January 18th!) is ramping up.

This week (and probably next week) we are discussing openings to short-stories (and novels) the first 2-3 flashes have been posted, and Sunday is our first Story Deadline (8PM)

At the moment, part of BC is viewable by the public. Come over, drop in, ask questions.


Alex

Thursday Prompts

Flash Prompts in the Usual Place

http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/forums/252

and here are a few of them



I love you, even though I don't know how

Does my soul look small in this?

Human detritus, five year's soap

I have looked at a lot of photographs

The gas-fire sizzles, I hear a milk-float light ip


another twenty at http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/forums/252

Wednesday Prompts

There are 24 prompts in Boot Camp

HERE: http://bootcampkeegan.yuku.com/topic/12265/master/1/

Here are a few of them to whet your appetite

01 I live on remembered taste

02 More than once I have been opened up

03 The abortionist's packed lunch

20 I am considering Africa again.

21 Here is a small gift

22 We say we thought it would never stop but we knew it would stop. It always does.