The Winter Adventure of a Cushion-dog - #FridayFlash

I'm cheating this week and reposting one of my very first stories for this week's #FridayFlash. I'd love to have some feedback on this one; It's very different from what I've been posting lately, and I'm curious as to your opinion. :)

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The Winter Adventure of a Cushion-Dog

On my first winter in this new land the family was finally gathered together again. How merry I was!

For the first time I tasted snow, sniffed the chilling wind, and ran free on motionless crops and mild streams. I wasn’t alone of course; my beloved seemed as pleased as I was with the surroundings. The beaming smile that I cherished the most, lately so scarce, blossomed in her peaceful countenance.

It suddenly broadened to a playful grin as she signaled a dash on the frosted grass. I needn’t a second stimulus; sprinting uphill I – what? Didn’t find the other side but a stony fall onto itchy leaves and rounded rocks. The cold water below was another unexpected sensation, but the familiarity of the beloved’s worried cries calmed me down. I smiled up to appease her, and shouted back so she could appreciate that I wanted to rejoin her as soon as possible.

She is a smart human, my beloved, smarter than anyone else! At once she understood my need and studying the vines that had held me moments before, climbed down, urging the brown-black intruder to remain far from us, where it belonged.

The intruder is a most aggravating creature that entered our lives not long ago, indicating the firm intent of residing with us permanently. Not even my best efforts seemed enough to cast her away once she planted her malign seed in the second beloved’s heart. I only tolerate it for fear of displeasing beloveds first and second. They must pity the wretched thing; that’s the only possible explanation!

Indeed, whereas she ensured that I was unharmed and the intruder had not followed, we exulted in our reunion and walked upstream for a short while, accompanied from above, sadly, by the anxious brownish.

An enlightened glance flashed in beloved’s honeyed-coloured eyes when she spotted a larger ivy vine, but I’m embarrassed to admit that her physical strength is not as grand as her mind, as she was unable to pull us up. I even daresay that the effort of reassuring the intruder might have played a decisive part in her rescuing efforts.

A few bruises, a ripped coat and another flash away, she was holding me again, lifting me up to salvation. But how could I abandon beloved? How could I leave her to her doom, and worse, to once again meet my abhorrent foe? No, I would not leave her. Besides, she had raised me so high to help me up that I didn’t feel as nearly safe as in her arms!

“You damned dog, go! Go that I’ll follow suit!”

I knew she was a tad upset with me, but I was firm in my purpose of not abandoning her to death. I’m certain she could read this in my eyes!

“You coward! I’ll be right there with you!” Her arms trembled with the exertion. “I can’t carry you up, don’t you understand?”

Oh, my beloved’s warm embrace is inestimable! I was presently adjusting myself to her chest’s shape when she put me down, clutching her own knees. She is so pretty when flushed, you should see it! But once again the intruder called out, diverting her attention from my grateful wagging.

She then found a clear branch on the thorny vegetation to rest, as the twilight threatened to fall upon us. For a few moments her respiration accelerated when noticing the darkening sky, but did I mention how clever the beloved is? Deep breaths prevented desperation and another flash led us farther upstream, where she spotted a clearing and a lowering of the fringe right ahead.

At this point the water was too cold, so I found lodge on a small ravine. She called out, but my paws were much better placed (and warmer) on the sand than in the icy stream. I was once again lifted and carried safely to the dry margin, where the blackish intruder manically wagged us welcome.

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Moira’s misfortunes may have been a grand adventure for her and Iris (the “intruder”, which is actually my other lovely dog), but from where I stand it was not so. Only a hot shower could prevent an onset of the flu. These cushion-dogs can be so troublesome…

Below you can take peek at her amusement, a season later, when revisiting the site.

Book Review: Demo Tapes 3, by Susan H. Gottfried

Demo Tapes 3 is a collection of short stories and micro fiction featuring the rock band Shapeshifter, which main characters are Trevor (the main character) and Mitchell (the band leader and Trevor’s best friend). All Demo Tapes anthology refer to the novel Trevor Song, in which Trevor’s and the Shapeshifter’s  story is further developed.

The whole Demo Tapes concept is very interesting. It gives the reader snippets of intimate moments of the characters that would slow down the reading if introduced in a single piece but are very interesting as separated stories. It’s very possible to read any Demo Tape isolated, as I did, since the author takes care of introducing each story and informing the reader where in the band’s story each short story fits. It was a bit disconcerting, at first, to be introduced to so many characters and viewpoints at once, but Susan’s characters are very well rounded so it soon becomes easy to identify the protagonists and to welcome new people as they are introduced.

These short introductions to each story also create a connection with readers and fellow writers, as she addresses them directly. She shares elements of her writing process, her blogging history an even some personal aspects of her life that explain why her descriptions and the situations depicted on her stories ring so true. Her experience in the business show may not have provided her the most fulfilling happening in her professional life -- as her character Jen came to realize in “Backstage with Jen” -- but it’s certainly paid off. Susan has a very effective and engaging way of killing our curiosity about what is it like to be a rock star, and also about how does it feel to be around them, and worship them. That makes quite a complete profile of the “rock’n roll people”.

The Demo Tapes gives hints about their inner conflicts and successes spiking my curiosity about Trevor's complicated family history, Mitchell's love life, and the secondary character's personality. Despite my initial disorientation, the book achieved its goal and I’m caught up in what the author likes to call the “Trevolution”. That is, I’d love to learn more about Trevor and his band, and specially to read a longer and complete piece about these grumpy and ill-mouthed guys. (Just a final warning for the purists.)

That’s certainly a recommend.

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Susan Helene Gottfried is the author of ShapeShifter: The Demo Tapes — Year 1, ShapeShifter: The Demo Tapes — Year 2, and Trevor’s Song. She can be found online at http://westofmars.com, where you can find The Meet and Greet, among other goodies. A tone-deaf rocker-at-heart, Susan worked in retail record stores, in radio stations, as stage crew, and as a promoter while earning two college degrees in creative writing.

The Sweetest Trolls #19 - Memories part 2 - #FridayFlash

This is the 19th installment of the Troll Serial. To read from the beginning, or to find past and future installments, click here.

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“Who’s your family?” asked Aimee in her gentlest tone.

“Kutril,” he replied. “My dad, and my mom.”

Kratan didn’t elaborate, so Aimee made a pause to reflect on that information. So Kutril was family? How would a troll family be? Considering that neither Kutril nor Kratan were ordinary trolls, their family shouldn’t be either. Kratan kept staring at nothing so she peeked at the deep cave through the fire light again. The chambers looked like rooms, if you considered the possibility of a troll family. There were two entries at one side, and two larger ones at the other. She’d have a look when she would be able to walk again.

Kratan grumbled something as if he was reliving old memories. He shook his head and hit himself with his fists.

“What’s happening?” coached Aimee.

“Mom’s not well...”

“What does she have?”

“She’s hurting… dad’s not here… No! Don’t hurt Kutril! No, no!” Kratan shook violently, tears running free down his cheek.

“Kratan?” said Aimee, with a knot in her throat.

“Mummy is bad, mummy’s bad!” was his reply.

“Where’s your dad? Can’t he help?”

“He’s out for help, but mummy’s nails are so big… She’s hurting Kutril. Stop, mom! Why is she laughing so hard?” Kratan wailed and rocked, scratching and banging his head alternately on the wall.

“Mom, stop hurting yourself! Muuuumy!”

“What happened?”

“She’s gone and Kutril is hurt. Must get some bandages.” Kratan stood and hushed to one of the larger chambers. Aimee saw him carry an armful of bandages to one of the small ones. He stayed there for a long time and she dozed off.

She woke up with someone sniffing at her. “Hmm, time for a snack,” said Kratan with his evilest grin.

Aimee started and grunted in pain. She stayed very still while he frowned at the scent of herbs and turned to the half-cooked body by the fire. He took an arm off and threw at her. She squeaked and looked up in horror.

“This has been too close to the fire. Why don’t you have a bite?” His mouth twitched between amusement and disgust. She shook her head, tears threatening to come out. “I agree this is not as pleasant as fresh food, but I can’t waste it, can I?” She pressed her lips together so no sound would come out. “Or maybe I should start off with you?” He smiled widely at her, but didn’t move. She tried not to stare at him while he fed and resumed their conversation, to see if she would be able to extract more information.

“Do you know where your mom is?” Kratan stopped mid-bite and looked wide eyed at her. She cringed internally at his reaction but managed to maintain a neutral face.

“Mother is dead,” he replied neutrally between bites. “She’s been for a long time now.”

“What about your father?” Aimee’s breaths came out in shallow gasps, but she couldn’t let this opportunity pass.

“Oh, the old fart is pretty much alive. He’s giving me so many playing opportunities!” While he laughed there was a flicker of light in his eyes and he shook his head. His voice came out deeper this time, “Too bad I couldn’t finish him off on our last encounter.”

“What about Kutril? Don’t you miss him?”

“Kutril…”

Kratan dove into his mind again, dropping his food. At some point the fruits Aimee ate gave signal of having worked through her system. She didn’t remember having used the bathroom ever since she was captured; how long has it been? Maybe it was only now that her body was recovering from the shock. Kratan’s herbs must be working.

Kratan was crouched with his head firmly set between his knees, his hands protectively put above his head. “Kratan?” No response. “Kratan, I need to… I need to pee.” Aimee blushed violently, but the troll didn’t look up. “Is there a bathroom here?” He pointed to the small chamber in the farthest corner. She sighed in relief, not wanting to imagine what the other Kratan would do. Aimee tried to get up, but the pain was too much for her. “I can’t… I can’t walk.”

Kratan stood up with veiled eyes and gingerly carried her to the bathroom. He left her there to balance herself in the darkness in front of the large gully. She thanked Holy Mary for its existence and for the old wooden cover that creaked loudly when she closed it with no little effort. She realized that she hadn’t prayed a single time these days, and chastised herself mentally for such negligence. Slowly, she limped out to see no Kratan to take her back. The fire light wasn’t strong enough for her to see where she was stepping so she bumped her naked feet on rocks and slumps, her right hand supporting her weight on the back wall. After a few steps she stopped, panting, and slid down the murky wall. She joined her hands together and prayed for help, for Kratan and his family, and for her own. The tears’ warmth contrasted with her body’s shivering cold. 

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<< Back to episode 18                   Go to episode 20>>

Go to the beginning

Uh, oh! Randomities Won the Versatile Blog Award!

A while ago, Angela Perry bestowed me with the Versatile Blogger Award. This is one of my favorite awards, because it implies that your writing is not limited to a certain genre, voice or else. Thanks, Angela, for the honor!  


Since the rules for this award became a bit confusing, I'll break my own rules and share a bit more of myself, but I'll not follow Angela's to the letter. (I have principles, you know? :P)


I'll stick to four random facts then:

• I have recently moved across the ocean. That's why my tweets seem to come up so late, but I'm actually going to bed much earlier than when I was in Italy. 

• Most of you already know, but to my new friends I'm revealing that Mari Juniper is a pen name. As a former attorney I have this weird obsession about privacy, which is why I'm not telling anything else about the item above. Sorry? 

• Do you have a favorite writer? I do. It was Neil Gaiman's wonders that drew me to the writing career. Do I want to write like him? No, of course not. I want to write like myself, but I certainly want to write as well as he does. ;) 

• You know I have two dogs, right? If I could, I'd have three. No, four! Gee, My house would probably become a shelter... :P

Okay, breaking one's own rules is fun, but it's more fun to share the love! So, I'm sending the Versatile Blogger Award to:


>> Kevin Mackey, from KjM on the web.


>> Chuck Allen, from Chuck Allen


>> Sonia Lal, from Story Treasury


>> Helen Howell, from Helen Scribbles


There you go. Now go share the award love, my friends! :) 

Random Cool Things #10 - Water

Lately, randomities hasn't been as random as it used to be. There has been mostly stories, book reviews and a lot of knigh-posts, which are all great! But today I'd like to present you something different I stumbled upon on, err.. StumbleUpon. :P


So, check out this video of water caught at 700 FPS. Amazing:

Team Ghost - High Hopes from 16ar on Vimeo.

Kevin J. Mackey's Week - Book Review: Haiku Through a Lens

Understand why the fuss, HERE.
Picture credits on this post.

To close up Kevin J. Mackey's Week, check out the review of his book "Haiku Through a Lens" that just came out and you can buy on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. If you care to, his week also includes an interview and an awesome guest post where he talks more about his writing. 

Now, please note that it's not because I'm grateful to Kevin for his help that I'm not observing my review policy to the letter. Just saying. 

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Haiku Through a Lens, by Kevin J Mackey, is a collection of poems inspired by photos taken with the author's cell phone. This is all but a pretentious book. The pictures are simple and the poems reach out to the reader, in a warm and friendly way, such as:


Displayed - before all
A painted reality
Tell me - aren't they all?

Kevin shares his wisdom too, when talking to us:

Respite from the rain 

Fill your lungs with breath, with warmth

And your heart also 

There are also many references to the nature and seasons, anecdotes of life and traveling, as well as metaphors that mix these elements to others. There's a good connection between the pictures and the poems inspired by them, making the reading very pleasant. As with any haiku collection, I'd suggest you make a pause between one poem and the other. Do as he advises and take a deep breath, feel the wind on your face or the warmth of your body. You won't regret it. 


That's a recommend. 




Note: Haiku is a fixed form of poetry. Although one of its most important elements is its metrics, I did not analyze it in my review.

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Kevin J Mackey is native Irish but now lives in the far drier climate of the San Francisco Bay Area. He reads widely - "whatever may be found between book covers" - but has a particular fondness for science fiction and poetry. He has had both flash and short fiction published in 2010 and 2011.

He also published "Haiku - Through a Lens", a collection of haiku and photographs on the themes of Light, Darkness, Travel and Seasons. He says he "follows in his father's ink-splotches"

Kevin J. Mackey's Week - Guest Post: Why I Write

Understand why the fuss, HERE.
Picture credits on this post.

I have another special knight-post for you. Kevin didn't want a story written about him or a character of his. Instead, he preferred to talk to you directly, which is great! 



Please welcome Kevin J. Mackey and read his reasons of why he writes. Also, if you want to learn more about him, you can read his interview here, and later this week there'll be a review of his book. 

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I listened to the world's oldest surviving story, Gilgamesh, on the first iPod I bought. I attended a performance of the oldest complete play in the Western canon, The Persians by Aeschylus, at a theater in Berkeley.

These stories, dating from millennia ago, are still alive today, still speak to us today. Parables, plays, allegory, action rendered in narrative. The ways we humans try to explain who we are, why we do what we do and what is the meaning of what happens to us. 

The storyteller, the "old talker" in my native language — gaelic, the holder and recounter of the tribe's history, is a central figure. And has held this central position from the earliest times in human societies.

Stories remain central to societies today. Lines, blocks long, awaiting the latest Harry Potter or Twilight installment attest to this. We watch morality plays on television, or in movie theaters, couched in the guise of science-fiction, westerns or romantic comedies. Entertainment, yes. But, at the heart of it is the use of story to communicate, to explain, to connect.

Humans view the world, and who we are, through the prism of language, symbol, story.

My siblings, in their working lives, feed the hungry, nurse the sick, build shelter for others. My own working life has been spent tending the machines that run much of our world. Not without value, certainly. But for me — insufficient.

I write to uncover, to connect, to delight. To immerse myself in the swirl of language, of symbol, of striving to understand who we are. That striving that began long before Gilgamesh and will continue long after I am no more.

I write, because storytelling matters.

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Kevin J Mackey is native Irish but now lives in the far drier climate of the San Francisco Bay Area. He reads widely - "whatever may be found between book covers" - but has a particular fondness for science fiction and poetry. He has had both flash and short fiction published in 2010 and 2011.

He also published "Haiku - Through a Lens", a collection of haiku and photographs on the themes of Light, Darkness, Travel and Seasons. He says he "follows in his father's ink-splotches".