Microfiction
Technonomatopoeia
There can be no doubt that modern technology is noisy. From the dings and blings of cell phone notifications to cshooooooooos, bwaaaa-bwaaaaa-eeeeerrr of old school internet connections, technology has brought us a huge number of new sounds, many of which are difficult or impossible to capture in words. The sound made when making a selection on a touch screen cell phone is a good example. I think it is intended to be a click, similar, but not exactly the same as the click of a finger on a physical keyboard. To me however it sounds more like an abbreviated snick. Actually I would say it sounds like a depressed version of the famous snikt sound made when Wolverine unsheathes his adamantium claws in the X-men comic books. Really it is SNIKT! because it is always written in all caps and emphasized with an exclamation point and a hyperaggressive font choice. Comic books have brought us a huge number of onomatopoeia. Batman is well known for having introduced Pow and Ka-pow into the lexicon along with hundreds of other words for noises. Today, technology like cellpnones and computers bring us access to comic books and graphic novels of a seemingly infinte variety. The graphic medium forces the onomatopoeia on those works. If one wants to make sounds in a visual medium, one has only words to work with. Technology itself however has brought us very few. I think that should change and technonomatopoeia is what those words should be called.
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Fiction
Eldergrove's Forbidden Spellbook
Surrounded by the wilderness of Eldergrove, a tale of curses and hexes was poised to unfurl. An ancient, leather-bound tome lay concealed amongst sacred roots, inscribed with runes of unfathomable intricacy. Within its pages harbored the sinister secrets of Malachi, a sorcerer gripped by the lust for power, weaving dark enchantments, each more treacherous than the last. The tomes of his nefarious spells remained locked away, and it was said to be guarded by a sentinel so fearsome that even the most fearless souls dared not breach the borders of Eldergrove.
By Sidra Anjum3 years ago in Fiction
Haunted Rumors
I heard the rumors. More accurately, whispers. No one wanted to speak of the ancient ruins atop the hill. Out of curiosity, when I asked folks in town, all I received were frightened or angry looks with comments under their breath. I was the new naive person in town, unaware of the town’s history and lore.
By Chad Pillai3 years ago in Fiction
Microfiction is My Favowrite Genre
Like just about everyone else these days my attention span is only a Plancks length long. In case you don't know, a Plancks length is the shortest measurable unit of distance, in other words, very short. Focusing on any one thing for more than 5-10 seconds really stresses me out, so, when I learned about the exciting and fun world of microfiction I knew this genre was the one for me. At last I had found a place where I could churn out hundreds of shitscicles for publication and/or read hundreds of other people's crapstorms in mere moments. Microfiction allows me to scratch my reading and writing itch without all the investment in hard work, thinking things through, and whatnot that comes along with reading and writing in all those other "boring" genres of yesteryear. I mean, who has time for long form fiction? Snoozefest. Even so called 'short' stories take so much freakin effort, and time I just don't have to spare. My job as an app developer for a major silicon valley corporation keeps me so busy I barely have time to stop for a massage in the office spa more three times a week, let alone to read or write a 3-10 page epic, that is probably about as exciting as whatever non exciting thing I would use as an analogy if I were not such a terrible writer with such a short attention span, which, it should be obvious by now that I am.
By Everyday Junglist3 years ago in Fiction
Apprevution. Top Story - October 2023.
“The novelty will wear off anywhere” he said one day. I had been longing to live anywhere but here for as long as I could remember. The dull, red bricks and boxy bushes of privet lining rows of suburban houses, contrasted against a perpetually grey sky.
By Jessica Ward3 years ago in Fiction
