#FP is the best
Strike a literary stance
Humour & Sci-Fi
One question, tho
Where are my pants!
Earlier this year, the quite frankly Awesome @amicgood introduced the wonder of #FridayPhrases/#FP to Twitter. Amy’s initial proposal can be read here, but the premise, which as is often the case with genius ideas, was elegantly simple: post a story or poem or story-prompt within a maximum of 140 characters (including the FP hashtag), then have THE BEST TIME enjoying the work of other writers.
FP is amazing. It is, in the truest sense of the word, an inspiration. I don’t know how the other contributors work, if they plan ahead throughout the week and post on the day, but my own preference is to wait until Friday and post as soon as I think of something, using the extremely technical writing technique of “Making It All Up As I Go Along”. The happy consequence of this for me is that, on the days where I might have struggled to think of one idea, the cheeky little minx of FP has teased me into thinking of five.
It’s a wonderful Muse, and like many of the best Muses, it’s hard not to have fallen in love with it, at least a little bit, to find yourself checking your phone for the next configuration of pixels to make your heart skip a beat. You might find yourself stealing secret glances throughout the day, admiring those curves or that muscle, the vibrant sense of humour or the razor-blade intellect, knowing that, once in it’s embrace, you throw the dice, unsure if its next move will be a quick kiss in the dark or a blade between the ribs.
Most of all, I’ve enjoyed FP because it’s given me an opportunity to read the work of so many gifted writers and poets. The compulsion to retweet, to shout “Hey Everybody Look At This One!”, from the virtual rooftops, is utterly addictive. I salute them, all those infuriatingly talented people that make me think, “Frak, I wish I’d thought of that!”. They’re so infuriating, in fact, that I’m hoping to read their work and the work of many more new contributors for a long time to come.
I wish I could post their work here, but the best I can do is point you in the direction of #FridayPhrases and imagine the smile on your face. Below are some of my own contributions, some of which have led me to short stories, some to … other stuff. All are presented here with grateful thanks to @amicgood, without whom none of them would have been written.
My boss called me brainless. My girlfriend called me gutless. Her sister called me spineless. So I bought an axe and made us all even.
The vampire cornered me in the courtyard. My timing was all. As the light began to burn him I smiled. He hadn’t known about the eclipse.
His dying scream was stuck in a time-loop. His dying scream was stuck in a time-loop. His dying scream was stuck in a time-loop. His –
Waking up alive in my coffin filled me with a shocked, mute terror. I didn’t scream until I realised I wasn’t alone.
He set down the tray. An ear, a foot, a hand the size of a child’s. He tugged at his apron. ‘As you see Miss, we ARE a Family Butcher.’
The body was battered and torn, open now, spilling its contents. The children all agreed it was the best Pinata ever …
Everyone has a novel inside them, or so they say. He slashed and he slashed, but no words bled from the wounds.
They tortured the clairvoyant, slaved him to a battle computer to predict the outcome of the war. He lied, and said they would win.
I invented a time machine. To avoid a paradox, my 1st trip was forward, to kill my grandkids before they could travel back and kill me.
I built a time machine. Hoping to avoid the Grandfather Paradox, I skipped a generation and killed HIS father! I told you I was clever!
A train, stuck in a tunnel. Passengers, impatient for news from the intercom. A crackling, whispered list of their names was unexpected.
It was cold, and clouds unrolled from the other shopper’s mouths. Too late, I realised they were breathing out ghosts. I was surrounded.
He finally unlocked human DNA, ready to clone himself into immortality. Sadly, he found just two words in the code – COPY PROTECTED.
The victim fell, his last gasp a death rattle. Pocketing the knife, Wally vanished into the crowd.
“Luke,” Vader paused. “I am your father.” Weeping with joy, Luke hugged him. Thwarted, Jeremy Kyle threw the DNA results to the floor.
His first novel as a pantser! He was pleased with it, but how had “Time To Love” become “Robot Samurai Nurses” ???
More of my #FP scribblings: