welcome readers & writers! in this cyber space please find: + a photo writing prompt + a place to post your creative writing response (poem, memoir, short story or the like) to the prompt + a community of readers and fellow writers excited to read your writing + morsels of genuine fiction, poetry & creative non-fiction as the blog is updated. share a response as often as you'd like. everyday discoveries from my life, captured on film, will serve as prompts. this is not a place where we will critique one another's work; however, words of encouragement or praise for writers who share their work are most welcome. writers, share your story, poem or creative non-fiction response to the photo by clicking on comments; word count is flexible. cheers! demery

Saturday, August 7, 2010


hoooooowllldy!  we're going to take things a little less seriously on saturdays. in fact, i think we'll call them spoof saturdays for awhile. let's have some fun.
btw - thanks to De Langer & FilmGuy for yesterday's posts. it's been a great work week in the young life of this blog.
come write with me about today's photo prompt. credit for this mysterious moon shot goes to my oldest son. below, with all due respect for some amazing & successful writers, is my take on the fantasy genre for spoof saturday:

Little Edwin Rice knew he was different from day one. Of first grade, that is. Which technically would make it day 2,523. Anyway. During circle time he couldn't take his eyes off Katie Dulce's neck. Well, that and the baby eye tooth he lost yesterday had been replaced by a full sized, razor sharp fang. He'd have liked to talk to his mother about his new lopsided smile. He'd have liked her to ruffle his widow's peak and kiss his little red lips, to tuck a note into his lunch alongside his blood orange slices and thermos of Hawaiian Punch. But she'd been gone since he was a baby, dragged off into the woods and eaten by a wild dog, or some such furry animal. The search had been fruitless in the lackluster light of a new moon. Edwin had tried looking in the mirror this morning to see if his new tooth was noticeable, but something must have been wrong with the mirror. No matter, he thought. Back to Katie. With a quick glance at Miss Granger, who was busy sticking the date (13) to its square on the calendar, he leaned forward and opened his mouth. Just as he was about to take his first taste of Katie's neck, she turned. "Are you trying to be funny?" she asked. Her choco brown eyes were stunning. He put a hand on his chest, sure his heart was beating wildly, but there was only stillness. He smiled anyway. A lopsided smile for this new puppy - no - batty love.

any vampire fans out there? hp? give me your best fantasy genre spoof, 250(ish) words or less, by clicking on comments below.


  1. Seems like this was the last thing Billy saw. Sometime later that night Billy... died. I remember that blurry full moon hanging overhead as we tromped through the forest beside town. Seriously, we had taken this shortcut a billion times. Billy loved the darkness and sense of danger. All those animal and insect sounds. The whole world feels wilder out there. Billy would tell you every sense comes alive out there.

    I wish we had seen it coming. Have you ever felt that power when a freight train passes your car? That's what it felt like just an instant before Billy was gone. Then I was covered in red. And I think my heart stopped because I didn't even scream or move. I watched Billy being dragged off, his voice gurgling and sputtering. And then he was gone and it was silent.

    At some point I managed to get my legs moving, and I went home. And then I came back here with my Dad's rifle. I was sticky with blood and breathing hard. That rifle felt good in my hands. I walked that entire forest until the police and my parents came searching the next day. I had forgotten how I looked until I saw their faces, clutching that rifle and glazed with my brother's blood.

    So every night I come out here armed, and I strain my senses. I reach my listening out for that sound. I will probably die, but I don't care. Sometimes, though, I wonder in that chill of night, whether a bullet can stop a freight train.

  2. Under a rock, under a tree, under the blackest of black skies sat Weevle. "It'll be fine, it'll be fine." he kept repeating to himself. He had been waiting for this day for months, ever since his mother told what happens to boy froggits not the first full moon after their twelfteenth birthday. "I don't feel like I am a man pup, I feel just like I did yesterday. No different at all, just a lot more nervous."

    His family and closest friends were gathering at the top of the hill, all waiting patiently for him to take his place and recite the forma magnificat. It was a simple recitation and the. The party would begin and his new life would start. What he didn't realise was that it was not going to what he or almost everyone else expected it to be.

    "... tamsilfa mang tahfoolint pasfantas." finished Weevle, visibly relaxing.

    He looked up, expecting to see everyone smiling at him, but instead he saw them all staring at a hooded figure that had arrived during the maturation.

    "Who are you?" Weevle asked.

    "I am your father." the figure answered, "and now that the curse cannot affect you any more, I have come to train you to fulfill your destiny, to become The Magus of Pentall Hill"

    As Weevle fainted, hearing the gasps from the collective and the questions he desperately wanted to know the answers to, being asked, all he could think of was 'That’s not at all what I expected!'

  3. Remembering Love’s First Touch

    The mists began to dissipate before us and the moon could be seen with its bright reflection shining upon us. I always liked watching the moon rise with her next to me and as I sneaked a glance at her luminous skin I noticed that she was looking back at me. As I felt the warmth I told her I thought there were different worlds and different life from our own but the warmth, I thought, would be the same and she agreed. Looking down I marveled at how many of her tentacles brushed against mine as we floated high above the rocks of the land. I thought back to a time when she first extended her longest tentacle to me and I eagerly entwined my longest around hers and we existed together but far apart. As the cycles passed and we grew to agree with each other she would extend shorter and shorter tentacles to me so that now we floated so close to each other that most of our tentacles were able to relax and did not have to reach far at all. I looked up and we could now see the light of the second moon shining. With a groan, the great beast of the land closed its top most breathing tube as it held it’s breath for yet another cycle. The second moon became unobscured as the last of the creatures misty breaths drifted out of sight. I asked her if she wanted to stay and watch the little sister rise and chase after her sibling. She suggested that we go and meet her as she extended her shortest tentacle to me. I was stunned with a burst of warmth as her top feathers began to sway and she started to drift apart from me. I quickly began swaying my own and moved closer to her than ever before as we entwined our shortest tentacles. I could see the warmth in her as well as we drifted to meet the little sister.

  4. Mother always told her not to read too far past bedtime, but Rachael just couldn't put the novel down. On this crisp August night, the night wind delicately disturbed the white curtains and the full moon shone brilliantly, awkwardly peeking from the clouds. These were nights Rachael loathed; the cool air reminded her summer was ending and, even worse, school would start soon enough.

    But she managed to stay warm under the bedsheets-and-pillows tent, pushing thoughts of school out of her mind. She lay with her legs crossed ankle-to-knee as she cradled the latest in the Early Dawn series in her right hand inches from her nose. The other hand tightly gripped an old Barbie flashlight, and the hands on the vampire bat clock on the wall reached 2 a.m. -- the latest she'd ever stayed awake to read about Edmuhnd.

    (What a dreamy, unnecessary "h" he had! Like her dreamy unnecessary "a." They were clearly made for each other, the fictional blood sucker and the whimsical 13-year-old.)

    Rachael turned the page and saw there were only a few chapters remaining. She could stay up to finish. Besides, Edmuhnd had just professed his vampiry love to Betina as the eternally clumsy female protagonist woke up to him eerily perched on the foot of her bed.

    But since Rachael hadn't breathed fresh air, hadn't left the shelter of the bedsheets in hours, hadn't seen the time creep toward 3 a.m. or a threatening shadow creep toward her bed...

    Well, why notice now?

  5. The light peaking from edge of the clouds was enticing to us like a woman's soft breasts rising and falling beneath a cotton gown, and when the the clouds parted, ever so slowly, revealing what we came here to see, it took our breath away like an eager groom on his wedding night. We strained in delightful agony for the fullness of the moon's glow to fall on our acursed bodies and satisfy our need: the ache of bones rearranging, the throbbing pressure to run and feast and howl. We,like the groom who, in the throws of passion sweats and grasps and becomes one with his bride, revel in our wolfness. Now it is time to hunt.