Random Ramblings, Writing, Writing Prompts

2018 Free-Write Flash Fiction #3: Cool Water

 

Another fun prompt! Click the link to the Carrot Ranch if you’d like to join.

xo Juli

Carrot Ranch Literary Community

The clock started ticking at 12:00 a.m. (EST). That’s midnight in New York City when September 13, 2018, begins. The contest ends by the close of day September 13, 2018, at 11:59 (EST).

This is a free-write flash fiction contest to qualify five writers to compete in the October TUFFest Ride event during the 2018 Flash Fiction Rodeo at Carrot Ranch. A free-write requires you to draft quickly.

You can revise, edit or polish. But you only have 24 hours which is not enough time to let a first draft set. We know that. We are looking at your free-write skills, your bravery to write freely according to a prompt.

Judges will examine how creative a writer can be within both time and word constraint. Charli Mills, Cynthia Drake and Laura Smyth all of Hancock, Michigan will judge all TUFF contests. Your free-write must follow all five rules to…

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Random Ramblings, Writing

2018 Free-Write Flash Fiction #1: Scars From Climbing

“I need you to finish these pallets before you leave today,” Sandy said, making a sweeping gesture with her arm toward the maze of stacked boxes. Colleen scanned the hopelessly clogged stockroom. “There’re at least thirty pallets left. How are we supposed to get all of this done with only four people?” Sandy grabbed a… Continue reading 2018 Free-Write Flash Fiction #1: Scars From Climbing

Random Ramblings, Writing, Writing Prompts

Are You Ready to Rodeo? 2018 Flash Fiction Rodeo

 

This looks like such a blast! I’ve got the dates written in my calendar.
Looking forward to writing some flash fiction. 😀

xo Juli

Carrot Ranch Literary Community

To a buckaroo community, the annual rodeo was a chance to show off skills of the trade: reining a cow-horse, throwing a loop and dallying a rope, wrestling a steer to the ground, and tying a goat. Yours truly was the Goat Tying Champion of a long-forgotten rodeo.

I still remember the smell of horse apples condensed in the stalls where all the ranchers and buckaroos boarded their horses during the three-day event. My red hair sported gold yarn bows at the end of each braid, and I had a brand-new felt hat the color of a chocolate lab.

I’d been practicing with the migrant children down at the barn. We could all toss a goat with the same ease our fathers and uncles could take a steer to the ground — it was all about mastering leverage. After practice, we’d eat pinto beans and tortillas. Someone would pass around…

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