TBR Piles Plot Your Demise ๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ”ช ๐Ÿ˜ฑ

Most of us have an unmanageable TBR pile. Some of us aren’t reading quickly enough to put a dent in it. A lot of us are adding to it. It’s pretty simple mathematics or statistics or physics (I don’t know how those work). And the truth is…it’s going to eventually kill you.

Logic:

If you have a pile of unread books and you’re not reading them, they will sit on your shelf. If you’re buying more books, those will squish in alongside the books you already have on the shelf. If you continue to get new books, they will sit on top of the books you have, then in front of the books you have, possibly spilling over onto a nearby table (or four) and onto the floor. When you are hopping over hardcovers and ducking under paperbacks, you know you’ve lost control. Your love of books has blinded you and now it is too late. (You have literary Gremlins.) These books simply cannot stay perched atop the precarious pile any longer. Whether they trap you in a corner, suffocate you, or come crashing down on your head…they will eventually kill you.

Math:

Word problems are fun. (See what I did there? You know, because a toppling TBR pile is a problem. With words. Get it? Okay, let’s go.) There are 1000 books on your shelf. 1 book is taken off the shelf and read. 20 more books are purchased and added to the shelf. 5 books are taken off the shelf and read. 10 are received as gifts (lucky you) then 25 more books are purchased and 5 read. (If you subtract 1 from 1000 then add 20 then subtract 5 then add 10 and add another 25, then subtract 5 they actually defy the laws of math and multiply…and eventually kill you.)

Story:

Once upon a time, people and books lived together in harmony. They got along swimmingly. They were similar in a lot of ways and respected each other. After some indeterminate amount of time had passed (because this is too short to get into the history of it all), people forgot that books had feelings. People treated books poorly, bending their pages, breaking their spines, piling them in stacks on the floor, and, worst of all, leaving them to gather dust. The books felt unloved, neglected, and angry. Those tricky YA trilogies, dastardly detective novels, and sneaky mysteries gathered fellow books for a revolt. People began to get that uneasy sensation of being watched. Began to imagine books were glaring at them from shelves, tables, and floors. Under the careful watch of sweet romances (they’re the ringleaders), deadly plots were hatched (pun completely intended), and plans were carried out. Moral: TBR piles will eventually kill you.

Story in Emojis:

๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ˜Š

๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ˜

๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ˜Ÿ

๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ˜ณ

๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ”ช ๐Ÿ˜ฑ

๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š๐Ÿ“š ๐Ÿ”ช ๐Ÿ’€

This silliness is in response to Diana’s awesome writing prompt about TBR piles. Check out her post here:

Diana’s awesome writing prompt

Harvest Moon #Haiku

moonlight kisses trees

late summer’s emerald leaves blush

rosy autumn hues

I haven’t written one of these in a long time. But, this week, Colleen’s #TankaTuesday is turning 5 years old. Happy Birthday, Tanka Tuesday! ๐Ÿฅณ I wanted to celebrate by participating. (Sorry, Colleen. I’m a bit rusty.)

The theme is autumn’s ‘harvest moon’.

A haiku-ish contribution to Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. You can write any of the following: Haiku / Tanka / Haibun / Cinquain / Senryu. Check it out and challenge yourself to some poetry.

Dreams #Tanka

 

Singing to the stars

Dancing on rays of moonlight

Falling to the earth

Waking from whimsical dreams

Entering daily nightmares

 

This week’s prompt is to write a poem with the theme of ‘dreams’.

A tanka-ish contribution to Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. You can write any of the following: Haiku / Tanka / Haibun / Cinquain / Senryu. Check it out and challenge yourself to some poetry.

 

 

A Deadly Substitution

 

โ€œYour Majesty, I beseech youโ€ฆโ€

โ€œIt is not your place,โ€ the king continued rewrapping tampered-with food parcels. โ€œIโ€™m surprised itโ€™s you who objects.โ€

โ€œI live for the court,โ€ the jester looked at his pointy shoes mumbling, โ€œand this may bring the end of it.โ€

โ€œWhat was that?โ€

Taking a deep breath, the jester lifted his head, bells on his hat jingling. โ€œThe commonersโ€ฆthey will revolt.โ€

โ€œNonsense!โ€ The kingโ€™s face reddened, softened, and then he laughed. โ€œAh, another of your jokes.โ€

The jester cringed. โ€œNo joke, Your Majesty. Substituting carob for chocolateโ€ฆ It may be the end of the kingdom.โ€

 

 

The weekly 99-word Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranchย ย 

February 4, prompt: Substitution โ€“ย In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features a substitution. *Bonus points for fairy tale elements.

#BlogBattle is aย monthly writing prompt for flash fiction/short stories hosted by Rachael Ritchey.

February Prompt: Revolutionย 

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Hidden Obstacle #WritePhoto

 

 

There was something behind the rock.

She hitched her bag back over her shoulder and stepped off the path. Hidden in the ferns, she had time to think. Was there another way to get to the hill? Could she wait it out? Should she confront it?

A million more questions plagued her, comforted her, kept her still in body, if not mind.

She was stuck in the safety ofย not moving on.

The rock was fairly small for a boulder in these parts, wasnโ€™t it? Or was it large? She didnโ€™t dare peek, relying on the accuracy of memory.

Fear danced with reality and the rock became a boulder, then three, then a wall. Late morning shadows stretched before her, creating shapes of all that the obstacle could be.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, another, anotherโ€ฆ On opening them, she saw the dark shape of the ferns. Felt the fear of the woman waiting in them. She stepped out from behind the stone, reached out her hand, and walked with her to the hill.

 

 

Here is my attempt at #writephoto, a weekly writing prompt for poetry/flash/short stories hosted by Sue Vincent. (So pleased Sue was feeling able to bring #writephoto back. Please do visit and write a little something.)ย 

 

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Light at the End of the Tunnel

 

There would be no escape.

That was it then. Sheโ€™d gotten turned around somehow. Night clawed at her bare legs, ripped through her thin, cotton gown.

Sheโ€™d never been afraid of the dark but, tonight, it had teeth. It chewed her psyche, swallowed her hope of leaving this place.

A spot of light caught her eye. The beam from a flashlight bobbed just beyond the gate. A hand stuck through the bars, dangling keys from its fingertips.

She ran to the light, laughing.

Theyโ€™d catch her and sheโ€™d be back here but no matter. First, sheโ€™d have her revenge.

 

The weekly 99-word Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

 

January 21, prompt: Clichรฉs โ€“ย In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that rephrases: “light at the end of the tunnel”.

 

Freedom of Flight

 

She always knew she’d be the one to die.

Ever since she was a child, butterflies landed on the chains that bound her feet as she worked.

She stood with the others before the sacrificial stone. Stained with blood and carved with butterflies, it spoke to the village of fear. Freedom caught mid-flight.

Each girl’s hand held a slip of paper.

One after another, they faced the crowd, lifted their arms. One after another they displayed their papers. Blue ovals.

She unfolded her sheet. Blank.

Today, she would be the reminder. Although they had wings, they would never fly.

 

 

The weekly 99-word Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch  

January 7, prompt: Butterflies & Stones โ€“ In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about the contrasting prompts butterfly and stones. ๐Ÿฆ‹ 

#BlogBattle is a monthly writing prompt for flash fiction/short stories hosted by Rachael Ritchey.

January Prompt: Blank 

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Lemon Queens

 

It’s because of my sister.

She got a Disney princess dress for Halloween two years ago. Now she wears that stupid costume, and crown, every day.

We’re the Lemond twins but, in our neighborhood, we’re known as the Lemon Queens. And itโ€™s because of my sister. She turned a serious business into a joke. And I hate her.

After the cards, cakes, and casseroles stopped, I opened a lemonade stand. I made the drinks myself. People said it was tasty. It wasnโ€™t. I smiled. They knew we needed money and I knew to be nice, so we both pretended.

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranchย 

August 27, prompt: Lemon Queen โ€“ In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features Lemon Queens.ย ๐ŸŒป

 

 

When She Was in Danger

 

I wanted to be brave.

Not like heroes in fairy tales.

Not like that.

Just an ordinary courage that snuck in the drafty front window in our kitchen and found me in the midst of calamity.

But I froze. Mind blank.

For all the bravery I thought I possessed, that I claimed I would have, should the moment arise, I failed.

Whether it dissipated when need barked at it or I never had it to begin with, I was frozen in a time when she couldnโ€™t respond and I wear that coldness like a lead vest. My badge of dishonor.

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranchย 

May 14, prompt: Danger โ€“ Inย 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that answers the question, โ€œWhatโ€™s the first thing that comes to mind when you are in absolute danger?โ€

 

 

Nourishment

 

She felt magnolia petals falling on her grave.

Freshly dug, soil still loose, the mound surrounded by mourners, she heard crying. Noisy sniffles, gentle sobs, painful wails.

She shifted focus from those above her, fixing her mind on the tree. Its branches reached for her. This time of year, it offered pale pink flowers.

This time of year, it needed her most.

And every spring these coming years. Her body would nourish the magnolia roots and, in return, her grave would be speckled with velvet petals. Nourishment for her soul.

When the grieving left, she would dance in natureโ€™s bouquet.

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranchย 

May 7, prompt: Nourish โ€“ Inย 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about something that nourishes/is being nourished.