Robin Hawke

December 31, 2011, 7:56 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Finally back at her desk, the writer drew a doodle. Then a blank. Blogging from parking lots, with its sloppy results, victimized her contemplative processes.

December 30, 2011, 12:25 AM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Gillian’s wit, honed by four years of college, provoked immediate laughter. Her observations became the necessary salt of conversations. Her sister’s responses—the pepper.

December 29, 2011, 10:18 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The first departures signaled the end of another family gathering. Affections exchanged, two people, then three, left for the airport. A skeleton crew remained to wash dishes, sweep floors, and long for one more game of Monopoly.

December 28, 2011, 4:24 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

They told family stories over mulled cider. But when the subject became loneliness, the stories stopped. Someone put another log on the fireplace; someone asked a question; someone answered with a story about an embarrassing incident and a cat.

December 27, 2011, 9:11 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The wet snowfall began around midnight and ended before the morning. Deer and seagulls made the first tracks. Then humans exercised, covering  delicate markings with muddy footprints.

December 26, 2011, 7:11 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The stockings were a last minute purchase. Aubrey always intended to make handcrafted and fine replacements. Instead, years came and went and the stockings gathered character.

Warrior Types
December 25, 2011, 10:09 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Christmas  morning they killed monsters. Then, they blew up pirate ships. After pudding, an elaborate scenario took place in the disappearing cupboard under the stairs.

December 24, 2011, 6:29 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Sitting at the top of the world seems like a good idea. Until you can’t breathe deeply and panic and no one offers oxygen. Then it’s time to head back to the sea.

December 23, 2011, 12:09 AM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

I tap my halo back in place. I wave my wand. I sing without making noise since my teacher says I’m off-key.

Beagle Boys
December 22, 2011, 2:24 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The howls of hunting dogs snuck under the door, registering excitement. Outside, white tips of tails pointed directions to the mouse in long grass. Grass the color of oatmeal fluttered.

December 21, 2011, 3:11 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,

Dressing: Oysters and cornbread or sausage and thyme?
Dressing: Satin bows or green-minded brown paper?
Dressing: A cornucopia of fruits and nuts or candles in holly?
Dressing: A wreath or a new coat of paint?

During the season of dressings, I’ll lift skirts to find cheer and my blessings.


100 Words for Grown Ups

The prompt this week is: …The Season….Click to read entries.

Evening Out
December 21, 2011, 2:33 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

While I never loved to dress up, my mother did. The preparations began in the early afternoon with a scented bath. When my father met her at the door, she’d bend and kiss me goodnight,  leaving a whisper of perfume before joining the company of adults.

A Week of Six Word Stories, December 13-19
December 20, 2011, 4:06 PM
Filed under: Six Word Stories | Tags: ,

John explained his love with texts.

Lara chose to believe Ray’s love.

Easy loving was hard on Minnie.

High tech solitude visited the newlyweds.

Somebody whispered an I love you.

The prizefighter crashed on Lori’s bed.

Early days. The rush thrived on promises.

Link to related posts.

(These stories were posted, one by one, on DIY Romance, where you will find more six word stories. Feel free to submit your own.)

December 20, 2011, 3:52 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Palates, roughened with age, sagged inside the bodies surrounding her. Lyla propped herself on her elbows. She listened to the melodic snores of her animals and husband with the ears of a connoisseur.

Buddha Rocks Project and Wrap Up
December 19, 2011, 7:52 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges, Emotions, Life and Stuff | Tags: , , ,

I want to thank Evelyn and Eric. The Buddha Rocks Project gave me something I haven’t put my finger on yet. How silly, I just learned BuddhaRocks is one word. Seven days rocking—you think I would have caught that significant detail before now.

This I believe: when we write, we have writing thoughts. When we stop, our writing thoughts get overlooked. During the Project, sentences invaded my dreams and images caused forgetfulness.

I sent the David Foster Wallace quotation to my sister-in-law who’s been MIA on the blog front. It helped her. She’s posting again. And in posting, became excited by what she was writing.

The cure for a writer’s block is absurdly simple. String together any two words. Then two more. Write until you feel like writing what comes.

December 19, 2011, 3:40 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Anyone who can kill is not afraid to criticize. Nicole killed the protagonist. As she pulled together the remaining strands of her story, she realized a bomb would do nicely.

December 18, 2011, 11:48 PM
Filed under: Quotations

What the really great artists do is they’re entirely themselves. They’re entirely themselves, they’ve got their own vision, they have their own way of fracturing reality, and if it’s authentic and true, you will feel it in your nerve endings.

—David Foster Wallace

December 18, 2011, 2:56 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

Are you familiar with Southern roads? The visible humidity that hovers over tarmac, tricking your eyes by acting like a fog filter? That’s the way I pretended to drive you home.

Versatile Update
December 17, 2011, 6:12 PM
Filed under: Uncategorized

Remember this?

Click if you don't...

I’ve trolled only to discover the award has visited many, many blogs in recent weeks. So, I’m hanging onto it for now, until after the holidays. In the meantime, interview me.

The award celebrates the recently discovered. I’m celebrating recent subscribers by dividing them out of The Write Stuff on my sideboard. While you wait for me to pass out The Versatile Blogger award, give these folks a click. Or if you want to grab this award for yourself, feel free.

Buddha Rocks, Saturday
December 17, 2011, 3:32 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,


Secrets in figured stone.
Other gods'.

This six word story is for the Buddha Rocks project. Photo credit: Eric Alder

December 17, 2011, 3:03 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

As a child, Tommy collected stamps and shells. Furniture and marriages, divorces and art—these came later. Pictures of his children surrounded his hospital bed when he looked like a collection of bones.

Buddha Rocks, Friday
December 16, 2011, 8:41 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,


A runner of water carpets all noise.
Don't stir.
Don't struggle with twine.

This thought is for the Buddha Rocks project. Photo credit: Eric Alder

A Tree
December 16, 2011, 4:40 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: , , ,

Georgia’s favorite part about love was the freedom it gave her to be sentimental. That says it all, doesn’t it? She dredged old memories, mining them for romance. Georgia even asked a farmer to bring ugly trees to market. Every Christmas, she rushed to his stall where he twirled each pathetic specimen for her serious consideration.

So, there it stood, a fussed over weakling, the symbol of another tree found on an adventure trespassing between cow patties. Always a bald, scrawny thing, the tree never helped me recapture romance. What did an eyesore have to do with my sweet love?

Flash Friday

Click to read entries...

December 16, 2011, 3:11 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The new house was not to Paul’s liking. His new job was not to Penny’s. They kept their dislikes a secret from one another until they became bored.

December 15, 2011, 7:11 PM
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags:

I haven’t picked up my NaNoWriMo Winner badge. I finally made it back to Inspiration Mondays, crossing fingers for Flash Friday Fictioneers. I’m getting something written every day for the Buddha Rocks Project, but only because I’m keeping it short. In the midst of my December madness, I received another blog award.

Thank you Leila…visit a warm voice, another chocoholic and a fellow work-it.

After visiting Leila’s blog, come back and click Interview Robin on the sidebar. Ask me any question. Seven answers will get me halfway through the following rules and some time to procrastinate with rules 3 & 4.  (I haven’t even notified the recipients of the last awards I’ve received.)

The Rules

1. Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass this award along to 15 recently discovered blogs you enjoy reading.
4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

Buddha Rocks, Thursday
December 15, 2011, 3:33 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,


The future arrived on track. The weeds followed, green signals.

This ten word story is for the Buddha Rocks project. Photo credit: Eric Alder

December 15, 2011, 2:16 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

A winter storm isolated their driveway for weeks. Two hunting dogs made it to the back door, asking Jane’s mom for scraps.  The strays received tins of cat food and the old chicken coop for board in return for tail-wagging antics.

A Summer Day
December 14, 2011, 9:00 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,

This was life: salt water, my friend Ayres, and a large, green bottle of champagne. We waded, me in Spanish army boots with a suit hiking up my cheeks, her in a loose mens’ shirt. Low country waves smacked our knees on a day buttery with sunshine.

Our spirits drifted higher on each retold joke. She had the laugh to go with her goddess locks, the ones that went below her hips. Ayres loved a bargain, in humor and other departments. Today’s bargain: fresh crab.

I caught our dinner by throwing rotting chicken thighs out twelve feet to play mind games with blue crab. If I fiddled, pulled sideways when the crabs backed off, acted as if my poultry was distressed—I could tow the malcontents up my green boots. They’d hang on, sure of grip. She’d bend, wet strands of hair tangling with the crabs she netted.

Over frothing mouths, we drank our bubbly. We threw the females onto sand and watched them skitter back to water. I’d run beside them, feeling the sun burn my nose. When I ran back up the beach, we polished the champagne.

That night we enjoyed spicy boil and sweet crab with brown beer. We picked at shells, saving the claws for last. Turning to the television for the tides, we charted our next day’s venture as hunters.

Tandem divorces pulled at our friendship. When the bill collectors insisted on their due, she stopped answering phone calls, mine among them. Two years later, Ayres died of cancer. I lacked the green for a flight to see her put in the ground. The bargain—our good company—terminated in brine water.

Click to read more...Inspiration Mondays prompts...mind games...

Buddha Rocks, Wednesday
December 14, 2011, 4:22 PM
Filed under: All Writing Challenges | Tags: ,

cubicles of industry—
tiger swarms.

This haiku is for the Buddha Rocks project. Photo credit: Eric Alder

December 14, 2011, 3:40 PM
Filed under: Three Sentence Stories

The entrance hall, a shade of mustard, was too small for conversation. Sally loved its color—it reminded her of the renaissance. It reminded her friends of excrement.