September 10th, 2007
With a first novel in the works and dreams of a publishing deal (and what the hell, movie options too!), one begins to look at one’s credits as a writer. Mine are pitifully thin - mostly song lyrics and this blog. So what’s a budding novelist to do? Look for literary contests! Getting published, even in a small journal, puts something on the ol’ resume. And heck, an award looks even better. Why not dream?
But entering literary contest requires actually writing something and who has time for that? I’m a busy girl. So the trick is to find calls for really short pieces, right? I thought so, until I tried to write one. The contest I chose to enter called for erotic stories of 100 words or less - a form they call “flashers.” A flasher is a steamy little spurt of a story. A complete tale one can absorb practically at a glance, quick as a forbidden kiss.
Mark Twain once said, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.” Now I know what he meant. How do you tell the whole tale, suggest an entire relationship in a paragraph? Every word has to be essential to the story. In retrospect, it was an excellent exercise in economy as a writer. Surely a novel is no more in need of extraneous words than a flasher. Here is my submission:
Forbidden
“I thought they’d be round, like apples!”
She stood, gazing at the tree heavy with ripe fruit. Her hand barely reached around the long, fleshy cylinder as she plucked it from the branch. Its heady aroma stirred her appetite as she raised the bulbous end to her mouth.
“Better than apples,” came a languid reply from the dark, sinuous form resting in the branches. “Would you like to know how to properly enjoy the fruit of this tree?”
“Oh, yes!” she cried, suddenly breathless with anticipation.
The long body uncoiled and rose. “It will be our little secret.”
© 2007 Eva Moon
By the way, it won first place!
Popularity: 5% [?]
See more like that one:
Leave a comment | Visit Eva Moon's main website.
It was a balmy night and I was feeling thelonious. I hadn’t had any tatum in so long I could have bixed a choirgirl. But I wouldn’t have to - the moment I entered the Luboff Lounge, the babe with the giant eubies fixed me with a “come duke me” look. She uncrossed her legs and I could see almost all the way to birdland. I felt a tingle in my tito puente, and with a smile, I had her. This was it.
” by Steven E. Landsburg. The 
Would you let this man near your girlybits with a bigass needle? According to this 
Back to the gutter today!
You always hear about the horrors of sexually transmitted diseases, but what if you could catch good things from your partner? Like skills, talents or desirable traits?
