The possibilities of flash fiction as an art form are infinite.
Hello hello hello, my brother and sister writers. How’s the constant content flow going? First a few words about the battle that is raging at my Twitter account. For the past few days I’ve been twittering around every 10 minutes for several hours. These are the results. Although I have not been as active as usual on my Triond account, I still get around the same number of hits. That’s good in that I’m not going backwards, but it’s bad in that I’m not going forward.
Image via CrunchBase
I noticed something else, too.
I can tell when Twitter refers anyone to my blog. I can’t tell when Twitter refers someone to my Triond account. I need to know what the results are of all this Twittering. So, I will no longer put links in the tweets to articles and flash fiction in my Triond account.
My blog is much more glitzy than my Triond account anyway. People will return again and again to the blog. There are many more attention grabbing things to read and see on my blog. So, that settles that.
Now, back to flash fiction.
Because flash fiction at its very best implies what is really going on, I always like to say that the story doesn’t take place on the page or on the screen but literally takes place in the imagination of the reader; the flash fiction story’s possibilities are limited only by the skill of the writer and the imagination of the reader.
This is why the possibilities of the flash fiction story as an art form are infinite.
Flash Fiction: Nude Massage is a short story of mine.
This is the Old Soldier reporting from Pittsburgh.