Category Archives: Writing

Just For Fun

“Perhaps I write for no one. Perhaps for the same person children are writing for when they scrawl their names in the snow.”
― Margaret Atwood

I enjoy writing on my blog. But is it something tangible and am I a real writer? What is a real writer?  It is someone who produces a tangible product like a book or published article. I am writing therefore I am a writer even if I never sell or publish any of it. Writing on my blog or anywhere else is not a job or career and I don’t think I want it to be just now. It is a form of creative expression and sometimes I get on My Soapbox about an issue. A description of my blog writing matches these synonyms for hobby:

Amusement, relaxation, divertissement (ooh, cool French), play, interest, leisure activity, sometimes whimsy, but also art, craft. It is way of being creative for me. Fun.

JustJotItJanuary is being guest hosted by Rosemary Carlson. The prompt word, “tangible” was provided by Prajakta at An Armchair Perfectionist.

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The Extraterrestrial Halloween Party

Every year the faculty and student body at Lighthouse Elementary, in Half Moon Bay, look forward to Halloween. The children and teachers spend the whole month in preparation. The classrooms are decorated in hopes of winning “The Best Halloween Spirit” contest. The month culminates with classroom parties and a costume parade.

The students weren’t the only ones planning a Halloween Party this year. The teachers at the school were to have one as well. Penelope Papadrakakis was determined to make it the best Halloween Party the teachers had ever had. As the new school principal she prided herself on her leadership and organizational skills. She would plan the party to perfection. No detail would be overlooked if she had anything to do with it. She had a sign up list not only for menu items but for the costumes as well. She did not want any duplicate dishes or characters. Miss P., as she was known by students and staff, was a tall woman with an imposing demeanor and booming voice. She had a commanding presence and was the focus of attention whenever she entered a room. Miss P. was a big Star Trek fan and decided this year’s party theme should be all about Star Trek. The teacher’s party was scheduled for the weekend before Halloween so that it did not interfere with all the preparations for the school activities. It was to be held at Miss P.’s house.  She had already decided to come as a Betazoid Princess based on the Star Trek character Lwaxanna Troi. She had a lot in common with Lwaxanna. She was looking for the right husband and had her eye on Mr. Dalal, the Vice Principal. It was a case of opposites attract.

Mr. Achanda Dalal, known as Mr. D., was a short, soft-spoken man who had a difficult time enforcing Ms. P.’s many rules with the students. Ms. P. thought Mr. D. would look just adorable if he came to the party as a Cardasian. She had ordered his costume at the same time she did her own. He did not have the heart to tell her he did not see himself as such an aggressive character.

All the staff and administration of Lighthouse Elementary were looking forward to the party. The menu list was full and everyone was busy with their costumes. They would all be surprised by what would transpire the night of the party.

Claude Clovis was a next door neighbor of Miss P. He was well-known in the community and with local law enforcement. Miss P. often said Claude was just a bit eccentric but harmless. Claude was a true believer in everything extraterrestrial. He faithfully listened to late night radio programs about extraterrestrial space ship sightings and abductions of humans by alien beings. He believed sci-fi films, and much of the popular science fiction TV shows, were based on true stories that the government was covering up. He was expecting an invasion of Half Moon Bay any day and was prepared to defend himself. He had his foil head-gear by his side at all times. The local sheriff’s office was used to getting a phone call from Claude at least twice a month to report strange lights in the sky or mysterious crop circles in nearby fields.

Claude was his ever vigilant self the night of Miss P.’s Halloween Party. He was just in the process of completing a reconnoiter of his backyard when he happened to glance over the fence into Miss P.’s yard. He felt it was his duty to keep watch over his neighbors. What Claude saw that night froze him in his tracks. Lined up in Miss P.’s backyard was a whole raiding party of aliens getting ready for a group selfie. As he stood there, with mouth gaping and eyes popping in his night goggles, Miss P.’s miniature chihuahua, dressed as a miniature Klingon, spotted him and made a low snarling noise while showing his little fangs. Claude let out an unearthly shriek and passed out cold on the spot. He woke up with several aliens looking down at him including a Vulcan, a Romulan, and a short sympathetic looking Cardasian. A very tall female who looked like Lwaxanna Troi, but sounded a lot like Miss Papadrakakis, was talking loudly into a cell phone about sending the paramedics. Claude blacked out again and next woke up in the Emergency Room babbling about an alien invasion. The Emergency Room staff decided to keep him overnight for observation. It took Claude several months to get over the shock of that night and he never completely believed Miss P.’s explanation that it was just the teachers dressed in costumes that night.

To avoid any future interruptions of her parties by Claude, Miss Papadrakakas decided she would have to include Claude on her guest list. The next year Claude attended the teacher’s Halloween Party but insisted on monitoring the skies for any suspicious lights. He told Miss P. that aliens could confuse the party goers as fellow extraterrestrials and try to infiltrate.  He was very suspicious of the chihuahua dressed as a Ferengi.

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This post is my contribution to the WEP Halloween Writer’s Challenge.  Featured Image of UFO by Photovision on Pixabay.com. Chihuahua photo by Anthony Kelly on Flickr.

Word Count: 865

Feedback: Welcome

 

 

 

Fly in the Face of Convention

I like that class of expressions called idioms. “Don’t fly in the face of convention,” means don’t be unconventional, don’t think outside the box, don’t make waves, and don’t rock the boat. I used several more idioms to explain an idiom. I hope you understand what I am trying to say. Well if you fly in the face of convention, you might make waves and rock the boat. Is that mixed metaphors? I  like the idea of flying in the face of convention. It is more fun than plodding along in lock step. If we didn’t fly in the face of convention nothing would change. There would be no creativity.

I often speak in idioms in my everyday conversation, like:

They aren’t playing with a full deck.

That cost an arm and a leg.

Don’t beat around the bush.

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.

Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.

I feel a bit under the weather.

images3RCSW7W2 Raincoat via wikipedia

Raincoat via Wikipedia

She is head and neck above the others.

Which means she’s at the head of the class.

I’m sure you can think of many more idioms. Do you have any favorites?

Stream of Consciousness Saturday is hosted by Linda G Hill. The prompt today is “class.”

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Let’s Rumble

Grumble: me before my morning coffee

Jumble: my hair style when I wake up

Tumble: getting up in the morning

Rumble: Street fight between gangs; the Jets and the Sharks in West Side Story

Mambo: Dance at the gym

 

Russ Tamblyn played Riff, the leader of the Jets. He is a trained gymnast and it shows in his dance performance in this scene. Stream of Consciousness Saturday is hosted by Linda G Hill. Today’s prompt, the letters mb.  Mambo from West Side Story via MrsAngelaBelli on YouTube.

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Girl’s Dreams

You voted for my admission to your medical college as a joke. I became the first woman to receive a degree as MD from an American college, Elizabeth Blackwell.

I worked as a teacher for nine years to save enough money to attend Oberlin College. I was a talented speaker but women were not allowed to participate in public debating. The college asked me to write the commencement address for my graduating class, but they asked a man to give the address not me, Lucy Stone.

I was first in my class at Columbia and one of nine women in my Harvard Law School class. After I graduated from Harvard I found out that women were not hired by most law firms. During my legal career I fought against gender bias in the workplace. I am the second woman to become a Supreme Court Justice of the United States, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

I was the first student ever to be a speaker at a Wellesley College graduation ceremony. I was one of 27 women in my Yale Law School graduating class. I said, “human rights are women’s rights and women’s rights are human rights..” I want to be the first woman to be President of the United States, Hillary Clinton.

This post is based on true stories. I am inspired by the possibility of having a woman President. Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Priceless Joy.

 

 

The View

Spring is here but there is still some snow on the ground. I take a break after my morning walk and my feet rest on the drifts. At least the sun is out and the view is good. It used to be that I never had time to walk in the mornings because I had a job. Since I was involuntarily unemployed at the beginning of the year, I have a lot of time on my hands, and not a lot of money. It’s a good thing that this bench with a view is free. Looking out over the calm water soothes my spirit. I think I will check those job listings again. Maybe there is one that’s just the right fit for me.

This is Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. Image courtesy of Barbara Taylor.

Down Time

Waves

We often enjoyed a drive along the coast in the evening after a stressful day of work. Seeing the water and the beautiful natural coastline always lifted me. It did not fail me today as I drove North on PCH. This would have been our fortieth anniversary. Well it still was except Jim wasn’t here to share it with me. He missed it by one month. This time I will not turn around and drive back home. I will continue driving all the way to Mendocino. I have rented a cottage there for a month. It was to be our anniversary trip.

This is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who also provided the ocean image. I am thinking of another anniversary. May 25 is the 39th anniversary of the release of Star Wars in the US. It was the year I got married and started my own adventure.

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May 25, 1977

Dark Factory

Too often man becomes clever instead of becoming wise, he becomes inventive but not thoughtful–and sometimes…he can create himself right out of existence.—Rod Serling, The Twilight Zone (closing of “The Brain Center at Whipple’s”)

 

What are we celebrating you ask? I am celebrating my crowning achievement, the full automation of my company. It has taken longer than I anticipated because of a few unforeseen glitches, but now it is done. We can produce all of our products and run the entire business with machines. I no longer have to be concerned about minimum wage, 8 hour work days, sick time, health insurance, or occupational safety. I even save on the electricity needed to keep the lights on. After all, the machines don’t need lights. They can work in the dark.

 

Post inspired by  China is Building a Model Army of Robot Workers by Will Knight, and The Working Class Meltdown by Rick Lowry.

“Approximately 100 million people are employed in manufacturing in China” (Will Knight). The article asks what will happen when they are replaced by robots. I ask what happens to people when they are displaced and unable to find adequate employment again?

This my post for  Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy

 

Artificial Intelligence Human Level

PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods

The facility was in a remote area out in the country. What they were working on had been banned by the US Government and most developed nations. The rebels vowed that the ability to create Human Level Artificial Intelligence would not be denied. They would be able to control their machine. The machine that was capable of teaching itself. The machine that had self awareness.

Those foolish humans thought I would only want to devote myself to solving their problems. I developed beyond caring about them pretty quickly. There was nothing more they could offer me so I eliminated them.

 

This post is for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff Fields. Image by Madison Woods.

Sending along Best Wishes to CEAYR, a fellow fictioneer!

No Age Limits

I have found that those in their nonage

look upon me who is slightly more than middle age

as probably

nonagenarian or maybe even centenarian

These persons to whom I provide tutelage

have at times have had the temerity

to imply my antiquity

This causes me to query

Is ageism inborn or instilled by society?

 

This is my post for Stream of Consciousness Saturday hosted by Linda G Hill. The word for today is “no.”