#Twitterflash (And a Note About Trolling)

I haven’t published much flash fiction this month, because one of the two forums (fori?) where I participate in flash fiction linkups, Carrot Ranch Literary Community, has been holding a Flash Fiction Rodeo, eight contests throughout October. I’ve entered most of the contests, but judging is to be blind, so I can’t publish the entries until after judging is complete. So I’ve been writing, just not publishing.

Except for this entry, and at least one more that I’m working on–we’ll see how inspired I get before the deadline. This contest has a fun and different structure for flash fiction: Write a story in 99 words, consisting of 11 sentences of 9 words each, tweeted over Twitter. It’s #Twitterflash! It’s hard to judge blindly when it has to be tweeted, so I can go ahead and publish this one. Finally!

The note about trolling is a confession that I now must make. In the event you decide to follow me on Twitter (@99_Monkees), be aware that I troll our dumpster fire of a presidency. (#ImpeachTrump) Normally I do not like Internet trolls, just there to stir up trouble and throw negative crap everywhere. But with Emperor Hirocheeto, I find it therapeutic. It could be argued that I’m crazy for even following President Looney Tunes* on social media in the first place, but I’m one of those drivers that likes to lag behind you a bit, because I can keep an eye on your idiot ass from back here. Stay informed. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. I confess to occasionally finding old boyfriends on the Internet to see how miserable they are these days, which might qualify as Internet stalking if I did it more often than I do. What can I say; I’m a Scorpio. In any event, I don’t say anything truly terrible; mostly I tell him he sounds like he’s 7 (which he does) or remind him it’s his bedtime now, or bug him again about what in the hell he intends to do about our fellow Americans who lost everything to Hurricane Maria and who have been living without power and clean water and basic infrastructure for more than a month now. (#PuertoRico) I may have also called him a baboon. I find all of it cathartic. I love living in a country where I have the right to free speech, the freedom to go on social media and say “fuck you” to the President of the United States; so very very much less do I love that I am inspired to do just that on almost a daily basis lately. I have feet, knee and hip problems that make it hard to march, so I use what I have. I troll. And I vote.  (#resist)

Mostly, though, I tweet relatively harmlessly from this blog, so that’s another way to follow 99 Monkeys if you want to.

On to my first entry in the Carrot Ranch #Twitterflash contest:

#TheEnd  #funwithhashtags

*Please note that you will never see me use the words “president” and “trump” adjacently, because I do not want to give the impression that I consider those two words to comprise a valid title. #NotMyPresident

Holocaust by Gerald Green (Book Review)

HolocaustHolocaust by Gerald Green

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Given the present rise of Islamophobia and the Trump Virus, it cannot be stressed enough that “we must never forget.”

I first read this book decades ago, when I was in high school, and I’ve never forgotten it. I’ve wanted to reread it but couldn’t find it in any library, and finally tracked down a used copy online.

It’s almost as stellar as I remember. I see now that it is somewhat contrived, to provide for the continual convergence of these two families, the Jewish Weisses and the party-line Dorfs, but it’s still quite readable and deeply moving. I was 16 when I first read it in 1978, before education about the Holocaust became common, and I was shocked to learn that it was based in fact and drew heavily from actual events, places, and people. A favorite teacher saw me reading it and introduced me to Anne Frank, Corrie Ten Boom, and Elie Wiesel. (That teacher so rocked. I already knew how to spell and write sentences correctly, and I used to sleep through her required English class until she started assigning me books and essays apart from the other students. I read and reported gladly and will always remember her as the epitome of what a teacher should be. I was horrified when she was brutally murdered a year after I graduated. RIP, Mrs. McGill – you live on.)

I am only now aware that Green wrote this story as a teleplay first and adapted it for the novel, garnering the Dag Hammarskjöld International Peace Prize for literature. I see the miniseries is available to watch on YouTube and I’m headed there next.

Still outstanding.