1) Writing Group: This Wednesday (two days from now), we’ll have our first Writing Group meeting of the semester – 11am in Don-360. We’ll do some writing together and also talk about the coming semester.
2) Submissions: The deadline for submissions to our big Spring edition of Pulp City, HCC’s literary magazine, is coming up in a few weeks. So… send submissions of stories, poems, plays, or whatever you have as a Word attachment to dchampoux@hcc.edu. We’re looking forward to seeing your stuff.
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Last month, we held our Flash Fiction Contest - here’s another winning entry by Chris Trubac (check out his website – http://staticmachine.blogspot.com/)
I was standing outside my mother’s house when the most peculiar feeling took hold of me. Through the large glass windows of the master bedroom I could see a strange shadow moving about. I was watching the figure dance and spin in the dim lighting of mother’s scented candles, struck by awe, when it occurred to me that I hadn’t any recollection of how or why I was here- it had been years since I’d visited the tired old town where I grew up, and even longer than that since I had spoken with or seen the family that I left behind. Yet here I was, standing on the crisply cut front lawn, my surroundings wrought with the sterile characteristics of suburban landscaping that so affected my distaste. I marveled at the scene, as if unfamiliar with my family’s need to pursue this warped sense of what they called perfection. In truth, I knew it all too well. Continue reading
It’s a form of control
it’s a tax, a toll
a yes or a no
but relax
it moves slow
Thirty days to pay
to find a way
to reach an agreement
that won’t let you fail quite yet
Here’s a piece Bill W. wrote – he’s looking for feedback…
The Apple Strudel Caper
The street buckled and writhed under my feet as I walked along a canal in the early morning hours. Each cobblestone was a different color like the scales of a serpent and the canal water was black, yet I could see the faces of fallen angels or maybe mermaids within. I moved away from the edge of the canal as the pale faces watched me with bemused expressions or regarded me with disdain. Either way, I didn’t trust them. Continue reading
On Wednesday, November 16th, we held our 10th Flash Fiction Contest (see the prompt in the previous post). We had many fine entries, most of which we’ll be posting here in the next few weeks. The winner, as selected by two student editors and two faculty…
The Other Woman
By Kara Fimian
The neighborhood I work in is one of these neighborhoods that I can picture myself living in, but not necessarily being ever able to buy. The houses are close enough to look into the windows of the next house. This must be why there are so many fences, so many curtains, and so many distractions in the house. Giant TV’s, stereos, jewelry boxes, new monthly furniture, fancy kitchen. The house is clean, but only because I clean it. The clothes hang on a clothesline I hung between the back porch and a baby swing set I hung myself. The parents want everything to be machine washed. But look how much money I save you on your electricity bill I say. They let me. Not that they care. They’re going on their third honeymoon at the moment. Which isn’t completely true. It’s more like they’re traveling on the same plane to Africa, but once they get there, they’re going to find new shiny distractions from another. Their kid isn’t allowed to come on honeymoons. Why? Because it’s an adult thing to do. Continue reading
Here are the prompts we used…
1) First, look at this picture (by HCC alum Aliea Wallace: www.aliea.com) – interpret it in whatever way you want…
2) Consider the following trigger words, and choose at least 2 to work with:
dark green, the smell of comfort food, a pocket, a shadowy figure, a
song from way back when, a new possibility
This is not a quiz, so take the prompts and then go wherever you want to go with them. Get as creative as you want to.
Even though the contest part is now closed, if you try the prompts anyway, post your results in a comment…
Or… send to: dchampoux@hcc.edu
Subject Line: Flash Fiction Contest
We will judge the winners in the next week. Everyone will be notified by e-mail. Good luck, and thanks again for being part of the contest.
I had a choice of three Bobs to haggle for (Arabs love to haggle)
One of which I do not remember and the other one ended with Dylan.
I made the right choice with Marley and we headed out to a nearby village
Bob and I. Continue reading
Posted in poetry
The heavens place in her bruised heart, one moment.
One small relevant break in time is all she has to force the fear out of her voice and make verbal the
words she has longed to pour into the open air.
Her skin crawls with doubt and indecision to make reality of what has been living its own life inside the
safe walls of her mind.
She can’t see clearly now. Continue reading
Easing back upon bed and pillow and
Fading in and away from attention
To the realm without the body
And awakening the inner soul to sleep … Continue reading
You don’t know me
and I don’t know you
and I like you.
In reality you’d call that creepy,
Pining over a lover that’s make believe.
Flattering?
Try overwhelming. Continue reading
Open-minded with respect, loyalty, energy and most of all truth Full of massages, Freedom to eat cupcakes, bathtub filled with water and bubbles by candlelight, just breathing. A book, cuddled in fleece. The smell of Perfume on my skin and a hairbrush to comb my long brown shiny hair with no fear-I am safe.
(Photo taken by: Christian Ramos from my camera)
Posted in announcements
