Dear Writers, Watch This!

 I have learned is that stepping out of your genre  can only add  richness to your writer’s voice.

For example.

I don’t get poetry, I don’t understand poetry I never actually read or enjoyed it. But when I started getting comments from readers who read my short stories and thought they were poems, I said to myself ” maybe you should do this on purpose “

What I discovered was writing poems helped me learn to express the visual aspects of my stories and it helped me keep on track and focused when I wrote short stories or flash fiction.

So give this clip a view- of course I’d suggest watching the film as well. But what I wanted to share was the wealth of information you will find here.






FLASH Back Friday- Luck of The Devil


I forgot all about this one! So I thought I’d post it for Fandango’s Friday Flashback. I bent the rules a little because this story is over 10 years old, but it shows what a bad day 10 years ago looked like and given the world we live in now it seems pretty silly. I figure we could use a laugh.

This is a story is called ” Luck of The Devil “

anita marie moscoso

based on the Soul Food Cafe Story Prompt

T is For Transformative

Did you ever have one of those days when everything went wrong?

Maybe you knew it was going to be bad when your alarm went off  20 minutes too early and to make it worse it was one of those nights where you woke up every half hour and when you got out of bed you knew, you could feel it was going to get much worse.

Veta Trella had a night like that.

After she got out of bed she went  to take a shower and as she stepped into her tub she slipped but was lucky enough to break her fall with her knees.

That  was okay because Veta wasn’t the kind of person anyone paid attention to so if she had to limp and shuffle no one was going to notice.

That was the only lucky break Veta had for the rest of the day.

When Veta dried her hair she was distracted by the sizzling sound the wires made everytime she turned her wrist and just before her hair was completely dry some blue sparks flew out of the wall and all of the lights in Veta’s house went out and stayed out.

She guessed all of those black scorch marks all over her walls by the electrical outlets she saw on the way to her basement to check her fuse box was not a good sign.

When Veta  finally made it out the door she looked down in time to see her that not only were her shoes not tied, they were different colors and just as she turned to go back into her house the door swung shut and she knew that not only was the door locked she had never taken her keys out of the candy bowl she kept them in.

But none of that mattered for very long because as she took  a step she tripped on her laces and went face first into the door.

It was only a matter of seconds- not minutes before her nose started to swell and she could feel her lips start to go numb. She poked at her face and sighed and then Veta walked around to her back yard.

She walked slowly up the steps to her back porch and when she reached down to pick up a little clay flowerpot that she kept her spare key under she felt her fingernail peel back and then it came off with a sting.

She held her hand up, looked at raw  finger tip and sighed.

Veta made it through her kitchen safe enough but when she got to the living room she scared her cat Blitzer right off of the couch he knew wasn’t suppose to be on.

Veta didn’t have the heart or energy to yell at him but he jumped off the couch in a cloud of cat fur ( because of COURSE he was shedding like crazy ) and went running straight across her path.

In fact, he was so startled by her surprise appearance that he jumped straight up onto the mantle piece above the fireplace and sent Veta’s antique mirror crashing to the floor where it didn’t just break.

The mirror smashed into millions of little shards and a cloud of dust and glass wafted up and into Veta’s face- Veta’s bruised and swollen face that was now in the process of working it’s way into a full fledged allergy attack.

” Oh, why the Hell not ” Veta said and then she sneezed and her nose started to bleed- all over her brand new white blouse.

When Veta made it to her bus- well it wasn’t her usual bus because she missed her regular bus- she almost tripped over a woman who had suddenly stopped to pick something up off of the ground and that sent Veta and her things flying  in about four different directions.

Veta sort of shuffled and cringed all the way to the back of the bus and when she sat down it was on something wet and sticky and she closed her eyes and when she opened them she looked up and then down and then from her left to her right and then slowly behind her. When she was done she slouched down and held her belongings to her chest and tried to make herself breathe.

 She thought if she concentrated on doing just that she wouldn’t start screaming.

Then the woman Veta had tripped over took the seat right in front of her and she was jabbering and laughing and chatting away to the very good-looking man next to her.

” Can you believe it? ” she sang, ” first I find a hundred dollar bill right there on the curb on the very morning I’m thinking I’m going to for sure  miss my bus and then…” she leaned towards her seat mate and nudged him with her shoulder ” you ask me out and look! “

 She was holding her phone up and the man read the text message and he congratulated the woman on her promotion and then he moved a little closer to her and put his arm over the back of her seat.

” I mean, I don’t know where all of this is coming from.  I’ve never had luck like this before!”

” My Grandma would have said you have the luck of the Devil ” he told the woman happily.


Veta reached over she tapped them each on the shoulder.

When they turned around they were looking straight into Veta’s bright yellow eyes which were ringed with bruises and they saw the little white horns she normally hid under her blow dried hair and she when was sure she had their attention, her forked tongue shot from under her broken nose and swollen lips and she hissed:

” your Grandma doesn’t know what the Hell she’s talking about.”


Forever More

Linda G Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday Prompt : More

Photo by Ekaterina on

More footsteps

more voices

more muffled knocking on the wall behind my headboard

it’s only Summer and it seems like forever until Autumn gets here.


More whispers

more weeping

more windows with pale faces trapped in dusty panes of glass

it’s the middle of Summer and Winter is never going to get here


More midnights

more footsteps

someone is dragging a chair down the hallway rope in hand

I think it will be Summer forever and it will always be hot as Hell.

From Linda’s Blog-

Here are some the rules and guidelines for this Prompt:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing (typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. Have fun!

The Guest Room

Putting My Feet In The Dirt July Writing Prompt: #17. Sorrows of the soul

Lochan Ellis knew there at least two ghosts living in the closet in the spare room next to hers. There was probably one or two monsters living under the bed that nobody ever slept in and she was sure that the mirror in the corner was home to countless lost souls.

It’s not like Lochan had some special power that let her see into the next world-everyone, her Mother, her father and her three brothers all new that the spare room was full of troubled spirits.

In fact, if you went by for a visit and you were sitting in the kitchen snacking on home baked cookies you would hear them too- you might even see something run by you out of the corner of your eye.

I’m pulling your leg.

It wouldn’t be one of the troubled spirits that lived in the spare room, that blur would be one of the family cats who always seemed to know when the Spirits upstairs were a little more agitated then normal.

Despite the fact that the Ellis family home was infested with all sorts of troubled Souls, no one in Lochan’s family called for a Priest or a Ghost Hunter or a Pyschic to deal with their spareroom that was painted light green, they didn’t even bother to lock it because nobody ever went into it and whatever was in there seemed to be content with it’s place under the bed, inside of the closet or trapped in the mirror.

Sometimes at dinner or at lunch or when they were watching tv they would hear a thump, singing and sneezing coming from above their heads but they just turned the sound up on the tv or they talked a little louder around the dinner table and went on with their lives and they let the occupants in the spare room get on with theirs.

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Lochan kept the house and in that time she married and divorced a few times. She never had children and she never had company over, not because of the Spirits and Ghosts and Monsters upstairs in the spare room- it wasn’t because her cats would sit on the dining room table and hiss at the ceiling ( the spare room was right over the dining room ) but she had discovered over the years


people spent a lot of time pretending that the things that scared and horrified them, like the things upstairs, weren’t real and if you ignored them they would go away.

She knew better then that.