Haiku, Writing Prompt Thursday

Ramshackle – Haiku

Somebody used the word “ramshackle” on Twitter. It’s a fun word, in spite of its not so fun meaning, so here’s a ramshackle haiku.


The roof leaks badly,

It’s freezing cold in winter,

But I was born there.

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Letters

A Letter to Nonfiction

Dear Nonfiction,

Boy, you must be mad after reading last week’s letter to short fiction. First I said it was fun writing something other than essay-style posts, and then I went on and on about my romantic, moon-lit relationship with fiction.

Well, all of that is true, but you know what? You shouldn’t have opened short fiction’s mailbox. You know what else? We can still be friends.

Having a romance with you would take too much work. Do you have any idea how much time and effort on my part it takes to research essay topics? Yes, I know, it takes research to write fiction too, but it’s just not the same grinding, groaning, gritty, grumbling, grievous, grunting blend of alliterating adjectives as writing you. It is fun, I’ll grant you that much, but it should be enjoyed sparingly, sort of like…


What was I saying? Oh, yeah, I was trying to explain why I sometimes need to take a break from you and write something that didn’t actually happen, or that isn’t even possible. Here’s a better example. It’s like going to college. I wouldn’t do nothing but study 24/7 without any sleep or time to myself or a roll in the hay with short fiction, would I? You’re really nice, funny, smart, charming, and oh so generous, but you’re just not relaxing. Short fiction is all of those, but it’s just not . . . it’s not nonfiction.

In other words, be happy with your status as my best friend, but don’t expect me to fall in love with you.

Yours truly,

Hyacinth Grey

Letters

A Letter to Short Fiction

Dear Short Fiction,

Every Friday, I post some of you on my blog to give my readers free content. It’s also nice to take a break from writing essay-style nonfiction posts.

I fell in love with you at first write, but I don’t quite remember the first time we met. All I recall is somebody tweeting, asking if people liked to write short stories or novels best. Of course, I voted for novels. Come on, don’t yell at me, I was thinking about those long ago days, you know the ones before I got a real book self-published with FriesenPress? I mean, it was so long ago, it’s embarrassing, so I won’t go into the gory details here, but I was thinking of those times when I only wrote for myself.

I guess the words “short stories” got stuck in my head, but I don’t really know how this happened. Maybe I had one or two glasses of wine too many, and the next thing I knew, I was writing The Choice. Considering that I don’t remember our first night of passion very well, I’m happy that we fell in love, because I do remember most of what we did after whatever it was that got things started. I love you so much, I couldn’t ever in a million years let you go, and I still feel that way today, yes, even after our honeymoon had to be canceled because of COVID-19. I’m having a blast writing The Dark Tide, and after that, I even have an idea for another one.

Do you want to hear a crazy wild secret?


I was thinking it might be fun to publish a longer work, such as maybe kind of sort of like a novel as a long series of blog posts.


I don’t know if I will do that, but I’m certainly toying with the idea. If you have an opinion on the subject, please leave a comment.


I’m not sure if this all means we’re married, or if we’re just living together, but either way, you make my blog complete. Oh, what am I saying? My readers do that!

Yours truly,

Hyacinth Grey