Short Stories: September 01, 2010 Issue [#3947] |
Short Stories
This week: What did he say? Edited by: Leger~ More Newsletters By This Editor
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The purpose of this newsletter is to help the Writing.com short story author hone their craft and improve their skills. Along with that I would like to inform, advocate, and create new, fresh ideas for the short story author. Write to me if you have an idea you would like presented.
This week's Short Story Editor
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What did he say?
Knowing the vernacular
: of, relating to, or characteristic of a period, place, or group; especially : of, relating to, or being the common building style of a period or place |
of a particular time can authenticate your characters and setting. Researching the 1950's in the United States, you'll find all kinds of vernacular phrases.
A 50's guy would reach up and brush his flatop or comb his duck butt or D.A. Greasers were grody in that time. Ask his friend if his nest looked okay and jump into his rag top, or his screamer and peel out to find another guy with a hopped up hot rod to race. They'd floor it and race for pinks and the winner would go ape! Hopefully the heat wouldn't show up.
His mirror warmer would remind him to pick up his girlfriend with the classy chassis he jacketed earlier in the week so they could go make out at the passion pit. He'd be frosted if she decided to bring her friend whom he was sure had cooties.
LOL, that was overload but you get the idea. Do some research, it's fun! Some phrases are still in use, some outdated and quite amusing. Some of you might remember your parents using the language and some of you might remember saying those things yourself. Some of you might remember the day the music died. Write on!
This month's question: What funny phrases did you use as a teen?
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In this contest, you will write a story each day about a character. The prompt for the day will be posted at noon and entries will be due by noon the next day. You will use the same main character in all ten stories! BIG PRIZES, check it out!
Extra prizes awarded in this contest during WDC's 10th birthday celebration.
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Flash fiction contest. Joust with fellow members to win thousands in gp prizes.
Excerpt: Mummy always asked: “Portia, what would you like to be when you grow up?”
Excerpt: Xavier held his hand to his forehead and felt the lingering warmth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m no mage, I can’t use magic or whatever you did. Or even if I could, I never learned how.”
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Excerpt: Well, that was how it worked with family. Today, on the other hand, was his first party on the outside, with his English school friends who called him 'Day Wood, Day Wood', in imitation of how his father said his name.
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Excerpt: “We’ve been in Verdun for two months and haven’t moved an inch! Hodges, our phone lines have been cut again, we are surrounded by Krauts, and again we are being bombed by our own side.
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Excerpt: Normally, walking the Institute's grounds freed his mind of mental obstacles and accumulated debris. It was not working. His world had become richer but his mind was bankrupt. He had already passed through the elation, even the ecstasy, of discovery. Then, realization of what it meant twisted his initial excitement into an awful knot. The net effect was resignation. It was inevitable. Strange. You can’t fight it. He should have felt guilty, not indifferent.
Excerpt: He scrunched down and ran his fingers through his frizzy, blond hair. God, she's looking at me. I bet she thinks I look like Krusty the Klown. Trent Paulson shouldered his way through the students and bent to give Roxanne a kiss on her forehead. She giggled and grasped Trent's hand, crushing Christopher's hopes like a semi driving over an empty soda can.
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Excerpt: In the before times, when Ohwega's grandfather brought his family down through the ice sheets of the north, they met many types of animals they had never seen before. Tame and docile with no fear of the hundreds of people emerging onto a great plain of grass with far off mountains to the west. With this abundance there was no worry about food.
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This month's question: What funny phrases did you use as a teen?
Send in your feedback below. Editors love to hear from their readers!
Last month I wrote about the anatomy of a lie and asked the question: What cues have you used to show your characters were lying?
atwhatcost replied: The dominant side of the brain for most right-handers is the left side, causing those reactions you described with their eyes. Half of lefties also think through our left side of the brain, so would react the same way. Maybe that's why I got away with lying so much as a kid. Who can tell with us? lol
As for how I show characters lying, I prefer showing the truth before the lie is said or letting readers figure out later on. Short stories become novels by the time I describe the looks each time. ;}
Lauriemariepea said: Thanks for featuring "Dancing With Mrs. Brown" in your newsletter! Always exciting to see one of my stories on the screen.
Regarding this month's question about cues I give characters to show they're lying, I like to use hesitation and redirection--the character changes the subject or focus of the action, or has to pause before responding (either verbally or physically) to whatever stimulus is confronting the lie. Ooh, also: tics are fun. Tics as response to stress--which we usually feel when we're trying to slip one past somebody. (Not that I know a whole lot about that . . . )
Thanks for another solid newsletter--I appreciate the hard work.
NickiD89 wrote: Fascinating information on the body language of a liar. I'm immediately inspired! And I know for a fact that I shift my eyes when I'm in deep thought and "talking to myself," because my kids have commented on it. Now, I'll have to catch myself and see whether my eyes shift down and to the left. (Since I'm a lefty!)
Helen McNicol responded to Zeke 's comment "Sometimes I've found that an 'Out of Gas' story just needs some wait time. I have a number of partially complete stories that I've gone back to and finished." and said "I agree with Zeke's comment about stories that run out of gas. Sometimes you just have to put them on the backburner until the day when you find the drive to put yourself back into it. I find that forcing it to come doesn't work...you have to wait for the muse to return."
Mia sent this in: I took a few days because self praise is difficult for me. I have to share my good news anyway. My little short story "Mystery of the Keys" is going into print. I am shocked and amazed but this is thanks to my guardian angel RoseMarie DeCastro. I just had to share this with the wdc community. Mia
Congratulations!
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