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Flash: Peace Out

Erin Penn

Photo by Kyle Szegedi on Unsplash

The damp reached its oxidizing claws toward the abandoned VW camper. The cheerful sky blue outside an affront to its power. Even though the daisy and flower decals long ago succumbed to its strength, peeling back the paper and glue, the metal sides continued to shrug off its assault year after year. Not heat, frost, or cold mattered.

Vandals and homeless equally tried to leave their mark, attempting to break windows or streak the side with obscene and vulgar messages. Only one tag stayed after the assailant left, a beautiful mural of a mother holding a baby who transformed into a solider, died, had flowers grow and another child, clearly related to the solider, was shown running with flowers in hand to a grandmother. Even that artistry did not stand up to the onslaught of time and elements.

The only thing left was the annoying cheerful sky blue van-a-gon, waiting for its driver to return from a long-forgotten concert held near the field where the vehicle had been abandoned. The damp pulled back as the sun raised above the hill, cursing its failure in dozens of spiraling evaporation trails as heat dissolved the dew.

Sometime later the vehicle sighed, a shifting of metal during the heat of the day. Sliding side doors became arms, wheels became hands and feet. The robot stumbled as it stood in his true form for the first time in decades.

“Man, what a trip.” He looked at the sky stretching from horizon to horizon, as blue as his body. Missing his driver and the group of Deadheads they gathered crossing the country, and their multi-colored smokes filling his cabin-lungs, he sighed again, “Guess it’s time to peace out.”

The damp screamed its frustration in unending steam as the metal body launched itself into the waterless void of space.

(Words 303; first published 2/17/2019)

Editing Rant: Head Hopping

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of Somkiat Fakmee at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Head hopping. A virtual Easter Bunny jumping from point-of-view (POV) character to another; a camera so mobile, as to make one nauseous from the concussive force of the head-banging switches. Reading the work of a writer operating an “over the shoulder” drone flying so fast we get glimpses of the decision-making and emotional state of each character, not from one scene to another, but one sentence to another … and no telepathy involved.

Please make it stop!

What is the problem with headhopping? Well, while multiple close third person allows for one POV character per chapter or scene to have their thoughts revealed, headhopping switches the emotions and thoughts of one character for another paragraph by paragraph (or one sentence following another) creating a whip-lash effect in a reader who is trying to emotionally connect with a character.

Connecting with a character, empathizing with them, is an essential component of recreational reading. Prominent headhopping prevents that. In addition, headhopping increases confusion about the story’s focus.

Readers don’t need to know everyone’s reactions to a character’s declaration. Observing how people react and interpreting it can double up the character development. Think about it. A headhop would only provide surface information about the two characters – one acting and one reacting. But staying with the primary action character means we not only see the thoughts of the action, but we observe how the character interprets the reaction, giving us insights on how the singular POV character views the world and the people in it. This is a great way to show an unreliable narrator, as we see the reaction through the character’s eyes, and “hear” their interpretation of the reaction.

Jennifer Ellis has a marvelous blog on the subject, showing different conventions for shifting POV including one of the most common – focusing on a common foot solider, then zooming out for a bird’s eye view of the battle, and then dropping the drone of the storyteller behind the general watching on the hill.

You can find out more details about headhopping, its pros and cons, AND HOW TO AVOID IT (please, please avoid it) at her blog here: (NOTE 2/28/2022 – Looks like this website has been taken down.). There is lots more on the topic available, so google-hop around the head of the interwebs and learn all about it.

Flash: The Archer (Part 2) – The Reaction

Erin Penn

Image from freedigitalphotos.net

Rating: Mature

Banging open its doors, the metro bus traded another group of afternoon commuters with a tide moving out and a wave moving in. Susan stared outside hoping people would take the hint that she wanted to be alone. She still debated trading her car for cash. Now limited to public transportation, the trip between her apartment and her department store job went from a short fifteen minutes if lights were with her to over an hour unless she hit the transfer jackpot. Today the commute home was exceptionally bad after being on the wrong bus for five stops.

Someone in her peripheral vision paused by her row, dragging her out of self-flagellation.

“Is this seat taken?” a smooth baritone asked. Susan forced her eyes to look at someone directly. Her eyes started at the belt buckle and crawled up. Past the sweat stained shirt declaring a name of Billy working at DJ’s Recycling. Over the dark almost beard hiding the shape of Billy’s chin. Stopping a moment to trace the purple scars scratched into the man’s face. To finally focus on two of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Her heartbeat stopped.

The bus lurched and restarted her heart. “No, please sit.” Susan tried to ignore her tightening breasts and moisture pooling in her nether regions as he took her up on the offer.

“Billy” he said, offering his hand. Susan stared at the well-scrubbed pink hand before gripping it. All she could think of was his callused tips dragging across her nipples. What was happening to her? Her fantasy life usually was limited to the camera and software at her apartment.  With her behind the camera, outside the action.

“Susan, Susan Freeman.” She responded before reluctantly removing her hand from his warm grasp. She half turned in her seat as his wide shoulders encroached on her area, bringing her wide thighs into direct contact with his uniform encased legs. The surge through her system sent her mentally inventorying her apartment for working batteries.

“Nice to meet you Susan … Susan Freeman.” He responded in a voice that made her insides crawl, and her hands itch for a sound board. What a great narrator’s voice.

“James Bond fan?” She responded, hoping to hear his voice again.

“More like movie fan.” He said turning his body towards her. His lips parted in a smile so perfect she would have given up a day of chocolate to film it. “You?”

“Oh, something much worse.”

The man’s expressive face shrank in pretend horror, the recent scarring hardly noticeable in his constant animation. “No, not a critic!”

“Worse than even that.” Leaning forward she shared in a whisper. “I am a wanna-be. A wanna-be-director.”

The bus came to a stop causing her to glance outside. One more stop, she thought.

The response of “Really?” had turning back to the first man she ever wanted in front and behind the camera. “How badly are you wanna?”

Very, very badly wanna, she thought. To think she wouldn’t have met him if she hadn’t daydreamed her way on the wrong bus. “Enough to sell everything I got to get my own RED. My friends think I am crazy.”

He nodded. “Art students usually are. Which school are you attending?”

She shook her head, her brown curls bounced off her plump cheeks. “Not a student. Remember I had to buy a camera. Students have resources.” Susan focused on the driver’s head four rows ahead. “I created a couple shorts using a camera phone I posted to YouTube. They got a lot of hits. I always loved movies and writing, with the Internet response the bug bit big time. Now I’ve sold pretty much everything and spent every cent on equipment and software. Don’t even have money for rent this month.”

She refocused on Billy as her depression came rolling back. “I’ve been so stupid.”

Consideration crossed his face. “How many hits?”

She almost reached up to kiss him. No one had ever asked that. Not her co-workers, not her friends, not her family.

“About 12 million between the two.”

His blue eyes blinked. “Twelve … million?”

Smiling happily at the first person who seemed to get it. “The Moonpie Werewolf got more hits, but I feel Vampire Twister is the better of the two. “

“Those were yours?” he gasped. “Hon, hate to break it to you, but you got talent. Stupid would be not trying.”

The brakes squealed indicated another stop. Double-checking, she stood to get off. He stood letting her by. Feeling reassured someone liked her work, she disembarked. Sure, twelve million hits indicated interest and the ton of comments helped – but actually talking to someone who like it! She started floating towards her apartment.

Behind her came the perfect rolling baritone again. “Hey hon.”

Her body turned to face him. The other commuters scurried away. She debated responding, but seeing his face again outside the bus made her heart race. In for a dime, in for a dollar – as she had been telling herself for months now. “Yes?”

“Look. I don’t normally come this way. Got some buds catching the game at a sports bar tonight and I need to get food before male bonding with alcohol. Want to grab some pizza?”

She smiled sadly. “Sorry, don’t have any money.”

“I’ve got plenty.” He waved a hand over his face. “Car wreck two months ago. Lawyers are still working out the details, but the other guy is rich and they don’t want it to hit the courts. I’m set for the rest of my life if I don’t live large. I just got to accept no woman will ever look at me again.”

Susan grabbed the fallen hand and started pulling him to her apartment. “No woman ever look at you again? Really? God, just wait until I got you in my sights.”

In for a dime, in for a dollar “And between my legs.” She added.

(Words 993; first published 12/12/2012; republished 2/10/2019)

Other Cool Blogs: Magical Words February 13, 2008

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

It’s February, the very beginning, and there are never enough hours in the day to do taxes and write and edit and eat and sleep and socialize enough to stay sane. Something has to give. I can feel sounds like impacts, and paranoia is rising every time someone walks by my tax location with a hand full of papers (are they tax papers? are they coming here?). Then I go home and my computer lights are blinking, asking me to write instead of sleep. Friends? I think I have some, maybe. Art? I’m actively not looking at my embroidery basket right now, and my garden likes its weeds better than me.

David B. Coe describes some of the things he did to stay healthy and sane as a full-time writer back in 2008 when he blogged at Magical Words with A Full-Time Writer’s Top Ten List. Central, of course, is treating writing like a Job – a Real Job. Otherwise things slip.

This applies even when working a full-time job, like taxes, and doing other stuff like sleeping.

Since I do editing and writing, why do I continue to do taxes and day-job?

  1. Money – Editing and writing don’t cut it yet. Not with car repairs, mortgage, and student loans. They might never cut it, however hard I work and wish it … but I still may do taxes because …
  2. Discipline – I’ve discovered I need to touch base with answering to someone else, clients and bosses, to remind myself how important showing up to work is. Day-in-day-out. Tax time provides me discipline and structure after losing both over the holiday season. And I do lose them, every holiday season. I come out of New Year’s wondering what happened to all the time since Thanksgiving, every.single.year.

As hard as these four months are, they allow me to focus on writing and editing the rest of the year. And during that time in 2019, I will approach editing as a full-time job. It nearly became one in 2018, and I will focus writing and editing for 2019.

David’s list is perfect to hone the focus during the editing season, and for any work-from-home position. Exercise and eating healthy seem like no-brainers, until you’ve stared at your screen for six hours without moving. Realistic Daily Goals to prod yourself to always move forward is not just good advice, the Goals are talisman against depression. Time off, away for the keyboard, allows you to bring new stuff to the keyboard. Look over the list and think about what top ten works for you. I need to make mine … later, after I sleep.

Again, you can see David B. Coe’s full list and the related comments here: http://www.magicalwords.net/david-b-coe/a-full-time-writers-top-ten-list/