Tag Archives: flash-fiction-competition

I’m in an anthology! [Try saying that 3 times quickly]

Over the last two years, I’ve discovered that I can write short stories. That was quite a surprise as I’ve always thought I waffle too much for the short form. Imagine my surprise then when I discovered that very short flash fiction was even more fun.

To me, flash fiction is almost like the prose version of haiku. You have to paint the scene, create a character[s], and weave a compelling plot – all in 250 words.

It seems almost impossible, doesn’t it? Yet those clever authors on Indies Unlimited seemed to pull off a miracle every single week.

After much lurking, I finally worked up enough courage to try my hand at this flash fiction thingie, and didn’t win. I can honestly say that was no surprise, but as I honed my skills, my stories improved, and then one day, I did win. I was ecstatic! However the best was yet to come. You see, Indies Unlimited takes those 52 flash fiction stories and publishes them at the end of the year.

So…tah dah! My shorty short is now part of the Indies Unlimited: 2013 Flash Fiction Anthology!

I’ve already bought my copy because I know how good the stories are. However for anyone else who may be curious, the links to the ebooks and print versions are below :
Kindle on Amazon:


B&W (Economy) Print:


Color (Deluxe) Print:




Last but not least, I have to thank all of you for voting for my story.

Great big hugs,


Stop Press! And the winner is…

Thanks to timezone differences – and the fact I was out shopping – I just learned that I WON THE FLASH FICTION contest! But no Melbourne Cup photo finish was closer than this one.

JD Mader and I were literally neck and neck with the exact same number of votes. It should have been a draw. 😦

The reason it wasn’t a draw was because I got my entry in before JD. You see each flash fiction winner not only has the adrenaline rush of winning the contest, their winning entry also becomes part of the 52 stories that are published at the end of the year by Indies Unlimited. Hence only one winner can be chosen.

The way Indies Unlimited decided to break the deadlock of a draw was to award the win to whoever posted their story first. And as luck would have it, the first entry was mine. You can read all about it here.

But in terms of quality of writing, JD Mader did not lose, and I will always consider this contest a dead heat.

Congratulations JD. You’ve been one of my favourite indie authors for a long time now, and I’m honoured to share the glory with you. 🙂

And now, before I go away to do a happy dance across the kitchen floor, I’d like to say thank you Indies Unlimited for hosting the contest, and to every single person who voted for my story. This is literally my first ever win, and I owe it all to you guys. -MASSIVE HUGS-

-dance dance-


Flash fiction competition – please VOTE!

Photo by K.S.Brooks

Photo by K.S.Brooks

It’s voting time again, and I have to say my spy/romance/tragedy story is up against some very stiff competition, so stiff I ended up voting for someone else’s story.

I still like mine, but…

Ahem. I won’t tell you which story I voted for, that wouldn’t be fair. However if you go HERE you’ll be able to see all the contenders for this week’s crown.

Once you’ve read them you can go HERE to vote for your favourite.

I won’t lie, I would really, really like to win as I’ve never won anything like this before, but I know there’s a better story that deserves to win so I won’t mind coming second to that one. Let’s see if your taste is the same as mine. 😉

Intrigued? Good. Now please vote. Pretty please with a lump of rich, dark chocolate on top!



No Regrets – another flash fiction story

“Look out!” I cried as I upended the table in Valentin’s face.

The heavy cast iron seemed to float through the air, as light as a feather, but I wasn’t paying it any attention. In that timeless moment of extreme stress my mind was busy ticking things off my internal to-do list.

Shield Valentin with the cast iron table. Check.
Reach for gun in purse. Check.
Lunge out of chair. Check.
Shoot assassin…

You can see the photo prompt, and read the rest of my latest attempt at :


While you’re there, why not write a story of your own? It’s just 250 words and the winner of each weekly challenge is selected by readers’ choice, so we all have a chance to win. 🙂

Happy Sunday,


Flash fiction on Indies Unlimited

I couldn’t resist this particular flash fiction topic. The picture and the prompt really struck a nerve with me :

firebug pic

Now he knew why the old man was always yelling at him for playing with matches.

He stood well back but could feel the heat even from this distance. He could hear the crackles and groans as the walls of the old place swayed and buckled.

He was afraid, but invigorated. This would change everything. What would happen now? He could hear the sirens wailing in the distance. There might be trouble, but there would be no more beatings.

In 250 words or less, tell us a story incorporating the elements in the picture.

This is my effort. To read the other entries or to write your own, please click this link. It will take you to Indies Unlimited.

* * *

CFA Chief Geoff Baker and his team were the first to arrive, their big red fire-truck screeching to a halt a safe distance from the massive bonfire that had once been a house.

“Bloody hell,” the Chief muttered as his team swung into action. This was going to be bad.

In the end it took four CFA teams to put the fire out, but they did manage to save the neighbouring houses. No-one could have saved the old man who lived in the smoking ruin of the old weatherboard.

According to the neighbours, the old man liked his beer and was rarely sober.

The one piece of good news was that the old man’s grandson would be at school. But who would look after the poor kid now?

The crews were still stabilizing the wreckage so the police could go in when a shout went up, “Over here!”

Like all old houses in country towns, this one had had an outdoor dunny, and that was where they found the boy.

“You’ll be okay now son,’ the Chief said as he lifted the trembling child into his arms.

The boy, who looked to be no more than six or seven, did not have a scratch on him, but there was a strange, almost exultant look on his face as he said, “When I grow up I’m going to be a fireman!”

* * *

For non-Australians, the CFA are volunteer fire-fighters in rural areas. ‘Dunny’ is a very aussie word for the old outdoor toilets we used to have. They were freezing in winter and often full of redbacks [poisonous spiders] in summer. Thank god for technology!

Flash fiction and the rise of Dog Power!

I’m probably as competitive as the next person but I learned the hard way as a kid that competition is only fun when you win, or in my case, manage not to humiliate yourself too badly. If there was a foot race I’d be the kid limping in last. Swimming? More like drowning. Tennis? Oh is that young Andrea flat on her face because she’s tripped over her own racket? Basketball? Duck!

I was ok at badminton and table tennis because the balls were a manageable size but you don’t get too many people cheering at either one of those sports so… I learned to avoid competitions of all sorts like the plague, which is why entering a flash fiction competition on Indies Unlimited is such an amazing turnaround for me. I have no expectation of winning but I discovered that coming up with an ultra short story on an interesting theme can be masses of fun!

The theme that sparked my interest so much can be found here, as can all the other entries, all of them good. Mine is down in the pack somewhere so I thought I’d cut and paste it here as it’s so short [250 words]. But please do check out the theme first otherwise this story may not make much sense.


Death March

The dogs came back for Beth. Snow was the first. She crept up to Beth and licked her face before flopping on the ground, sides heaving as she panted open mouthed. Coal and Emba joined them once they realised the trek was not a game. Together the three dogs and Beth lay still for another hour until the blistering sun finally relented and left them alone for the night.
As desert cold replaced desert heat the dogs licked dew from their coats before getting to work on Beth. They nudged her face with their cold noses, whined in her ear, tugged at her clothing, pushed and pulled until she finally opened her eyes. Then they shepherded her back to the plane.
The trek back was a nightmare of thirst and stumbling feet for Beth but the dogs would not let her be, let her give up and just before the sun rose they all reached the downed hulk. It glittered with condensation in the grey light.
The helicopter spotted the wreck a day later. When the rotors stopped two black dogs staggered out of the shade of the one, remaining wing, their tails wagging. The woman and the small white dog did not greet them but they were still alive. The men were found over the next five days. All alone. All very dead.


I think I’m the only entrant so far who has killed off most of the human protagonists in four short paragraphs but I consider that poetic justice for the many scary movies where the dog [or sometimes the cat] always gets bumped off in some horrible way to convince the audience that ‘the killer’ means business. Besides, there was no way I was going to let that cute little dog die so if it was to live then the others had to live as well. Dog Power!

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