Tuesday, July 31, 2012



People wondered who made the decision. Who? The Triumvirate some whispered. “The who?” people screamed forgetful of the fact that they couldn’t hear anything anymore. It was them, those three ruthless entities who had arrived a long time ago, no one remembered exactly when. They seemed ageless. They never smiled, and their faces were becoming less defined as time went by.  Some believed they were reverting into their original forms, others that people were growing as blind as they were deaf. Yet deafness was very recent, as recent as the use of that high pitched Shredder. It busted everyone’s eardrums, but no one felt any pain. They just became deaf overnight. Why? Well, two days later, it all became clear. What the Triumvirate had brought in wealth and development, they were now taking back in health. They needed humans to survive and it was now time to collect, first it was hearing. What would come next? The itching monocles they made everyone wear were a bit of a hint…

Monday, July 30, 2012



Look around.
Follow the colors.
The star is alive.
It shows the path, it senses the winds.
Where is North? Blue.
Brown, yellow, red and black on white.
The world.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

My method for writing a drabble!


I have been asked a few times how I write a drabble. Some people find it difficult to write a 100 word long text in one try. Yes, it is! It takes a few steps, at least for me! So here they are! Hope this helps and encourages you to write!

Step 1 - Write, write, and write! Don’t worry about the length of the text. Create the main idea, the main characters and the plot. (My first version tends to be about 120 something words)

Step 2 - Cut, cut, cut! Now that you have had all this work, destroy it! Kidding! Just edit it down as much as possible; keep the core of the story. Hint some details; avoid stating the same content by describing the action and having a character say what is happening. Edit out adjectives and adverbs if needed. (The second draft usually goes down to 90 something words)

Step 3 - Add, here and there! Work on the flow of the story; rearrange the sentences and finish with an unexpected or funny or horrid or… ending! It’s a lot of fun trying to catch the reader off guard! (Success! After nipping and tucking here and there, the text is now 100 words long!)

This is just my method for writing a drabble. There are other approaches, I am sure! And I am also sure you'll find your own method as soon as you feel comfortable writing a very short text!


Epic Toy Factory

“Write it down, son, write it down” said the blind Maester.
It was the will. Rowan, the apprentice, tried to keep up, furiously writing with the feather. It was unique, a feather of the extinct giant eagle, and if anything, he wanted it as his Maester’s legacy to him.
“…the feather is to be given to…”
Me, he thought.
Rowan frowned.
He wanted to tell his Maester that Jeremiah would never return, he made sure of that, but his courage failed him and the anguish of seeing that precious feather have no certain destiny made him scribble “…Rowan” instead.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Occupied Art

“Let’s break the silence,” the man said holding a jar filled with odd bits and pieces. He was standing on top of a wall and repeated the sentence every two minutes. His timing was both impeccable and intriguing.
People walked by looking at him.
Suddenly, a young man stopped and asked him why he was holding a jar filled with junk. The man replied “It’s not junk, it’s my life. This key, my first house; the pen, my son started writing with it; the shell, beauty!”
“And why are you standing on that wall?”
“I’m looking at the future,” replied the old man. He opened his jar and took a small bit of paper out with a child’s drawing on it and gave it to the young man. “Art!”
The young man smiled and jumped on the wall.
“Let’s break the silence!” And every two minutes, two voices occupied someone’s soul. Soon, they would be three and then many more.
Entry for the Lit Up Singapore through The Virtual Writers

What is a...?


Dash – writing activity using a prompt word; 15 minutes to write.

Wave - writing activity using a prompt word; 20 minutes to write. 

Word Scrimmage – word-boosting technique; participants write as fast as they can for a pre-defined set time limit; participant who has written the most is the winner.

Flash Prose – text averaging 500-1500 words.

Flash Fiction – text averaging 300-1000 words; also called sudden fiction, micro fiction, micro-story, postcard fiction, prosetry and short short story; contains classic elements of a story - protagonist, conflict, obstacles and a resolution; some elements are only hinted. 

Drabble – text exactly 100 words long.

Nanofiction – text exactly 55 words long including the title; 1 character, and plot.

Minisaga – text exactly 50 words long plus a title up to 15 words long; also called micro-story and ultra-short.

69er – text exactly 69 words long; title not included.

Twit-fiction - a text written in 140 characters or less; also called Twitter length fiction, micro-fiction, micro-flash fiction or twabble. (Source: Vivid Scribe)

Twabble - a text written in 100 characters not counting spaces. (Source: The Drabblecast; check this Sizing Tool)

Vignettes - short impressionist scenes focusing on the impression of a character, idea, setting or object; does not contain the classic story elements.

Short Story - brief work of literature, featuring a small cast of characters and focusing on a single incident; between 1,000 and 20,000 words.

Feghoot – humorous short story or vignette ending in a play on a well-known phrase/pun.

Parable – short story illustrating a principle or lesson featuring human characters.

Fable  - short story illustrating a principle or lesson featuring animals, plants, mythical creatures, inanimate objects or forces of nature.

Anecdote – funny/interesting short story about a real incident or person.

Sketch story – story shorter than a short story mainly descriptive of people or places.

Source when not indicated: scattered notes taken by me throughout time. 

Let me know if you find anything wrong or incomplete. Thank you!

Power Reversed

Mischief Managed

He stood in church waiting. “Women,” he thought. Then she arrived, all in white, and walking slowly. The agony… When she reached the end of the aisle, she didn’t look at him. “We are gathered here…” and he just wanted to run away. “… take this man to be…” and then silence. It was her turn. She hesitated, looked at the priest, looked at him, and after a pause blurted out… “No.” A murmur was heard throughout the hall. “No?!” All of a sudden, he wanted to marry her, just out of spite. But he didn’t. She ran away.

100 Word Stories Power

Sunday, July 22, 2012


Mischief Managed

She walked through the long bridge and thought “they made me do it”. She entered the hall. Empty stares followed her slow paces. The assembly was gathered, as expected. When she reached the end of the aisle, he was standing there; the stranger. “We are gathered here…” a blur of words bundled together screamed at her “… take this man to be…” and then silence. It was her turn to speak apparently. The only word that came to her restless mind was… “No.” A murmur was heard throughout the hall. But she still had the power to decide after all.

Thursday, July 19, 2012


Mischief Managed

On walls, in silence
Other times, other hearts
Hermetic faces of hidden dreams
On walls, in silence

Wednesday, July 18, 2012


Sopor aEternum

Hidden in the mausoleum was the old Sepulchral Book. Many thought this was a strange place to keep a library, others that the cool, dry environment was the best option. To access the library, you had to press the eye of the gargoyle carved on the tomb. It was a rather uncomfortable place to click considering that the grotesque image had been carved at the back and the space to maneuver was rather scarce. That didn’t prevent anyone from visiting the crypt underneath and browse through the books. People were interested in medieval history and poetry books, in gothic and romantic literature, but not in the Sepulchral Book. It was boring, it was said. It held a list of all those who had died in that area throughout time. How names were added, no one knew and no one dared to check if the names had indeed been added.
Sean Patrick, who was convinced his lineage went back to Chaucer and thought of himself as a writer who paid great attention to detail, decided do some research for a story he was writing with the original title “To Die or Not to Die”.
So, he clicked the eye of the gargoyle, he walked down the steps to the crypt and tried to find the book. It took him hours. It was buried in the farthest darkest corner, of course. When he pulled it out of the shelf, he thought he heard a voice. He turned around.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Yes,” a gruff voice said. “I believe you are taking something that belongs to me.”
“Oh, no, no! This is the Sepulchral Book; it belongs to everyone in the village.”
“It belongs to me.”
Sean’s eyes had long adjusted to the semi-darkness, but he couldn’t see anyone.
“Ahm… I don’t think so. Can you step closer? I can’t see you.”
“I’ll step closer alright. It belongs to me.”
“I’m just doing some research, you see. I won’t take a bite off of it, no worries!”
Sean heard a few steps and then… nothing.
The Devil took the Sepulchral Book from Sean’s hands and scribbled his name at the end of the list.
“What an arrogant brat. This is getting boring.  I need to get out more.”

Tuesday, July 17, 2012



I put it in the jar, that glimpse of life I still had, to keep it, to preserve it, to be able to go back to it any time I wanted. But the more life withered the more I panicked. So, I opened the jar and let it fly. I freed life. Go, even if you leave me alone here to struggle with my pain, go. But life would not leave. It floated about and even when it seemed to go away, it always came back to sit on my shoulder and watch over me. There’s hope. And life nodded.