Copyrights retained by individual authors. All rights reserved.

Published by Carrot Ranch Literary Community.

Series Editor, Charli Mills

Editor, Sarah Brentyn

ISBN: 978-1-54391-795-6 (print)

ISBN: 978-1-54391-796-3 (ebook)

We dedicate this anthology to the literary community at Carrot Ranch: The Rough Writers, the Friends who write with us, the Readers, and the unknown Lurkers who think they might try to write a flash one day (do it!). May we continue to inspire one another like pilgrims on a journey. First we were strangers, and then we wrote together.

Foreword

By Charli Mills, Series Editor

Legend of Carrot Ranch (in 99 Words)

A buckaroo called Charli once decided between saddle and pen. She chased an ink trail across the Rockies to the city-slicker lights of the Midwest, branding businesses with stories.

That’s where she discovered carrots — the power symbol for food justice. The buckaroo thought, literary justice is words for people.

One day, the ink trail returned west, toward tales and sunsets. Charli found a place to settle her pen and she called it Carrot Ranch. Other word wranglers joined the movement, writing weekly flash fiction — 99 words, no more, no less.

That’s the legend, and Charli is sticking to it.

Carrot Ranch began the day I decided to go after the literary prize of my dreams and win the equivalent of a rodeo buckle in publishing: my first novel. Like many writers, I enabled this dream through years of writing journals and incomplete drafts, joining a writers group, and attending annual workshops. I had established my career as a business writer and freelancer focused on the faces and places of organic and local food systems. Food justice reoccurred as a theme within the community food movement. It had to do with making wholesome food accessible to everyone, especially the most vulnerable and marginalized populations.

This got me to thinking about the accessibility of literary art. How do we reach others outside of traditional academic circles to play with words and improve our craft? The community food movement showed me that even a small group of focused individuals could create tremendous synergy. My understanding of community relationships encouraged me to create a welcoming platform for word play where literary writers could connect. Carrot Ranch exists in the virtual world, but it’s a solid community.

Carrot Ranch has no minimum requirements to respond to its weekly flash fiction challenges, nor does it offer critique. The idea is to create safe space that allows for exploration, connection, and education. Writers who want to play or authors who take a break for fun are welcome among the more serious short story crafters. No one is judging, comparing, or competing. Each writer can study craft or simply play.

Literary artists continue to hone their craft throughout their lives, but don’t often allow time to play with craft or ideas. The weekly flash fiction challenges offer constraints within the invitation to play with words. One is meant to be the flint that sparks an idea. That’s the prompt. It’s open to interpretation, and writers are encouraged to go where it leads, even if it’s dark, humorous, or seemingly unrelated. The second constraint limits each response to 99 words, no more, no less. It’s meant to act as a problem the mind has to solve. Some writers approach the constraint by writing freely and whittling words, whereas others execute an idea within the framework. Some even volunteer an additional constraint of poetic form.

Raw literature, those first works we create as literary artists, can result from word play. Often we refer to first drafts as tainted, recognizing the work of revision yet to come. But when we call our early works “dirty first drafts,” we diminish the value of our creative process. Playing with flash fiction becomes a way to value the creative process and honor the work necessary to polish 99 words into a literary gem. When writers feel secure in sharing raw drafts among polished forms, we all get to observe both creativity and craft in action. I’ve watched regular writers at Carrot Ranch play with twists (which work well in short form and also become a linchpin to ending book chapters). I’ve marveled at others who employ true stories as a way to use the challenge to explore their memoir work.

The regular writers at Carrot Ranch became The Congress of Rough Writers, a name derived from Buffalo Bill Cody’s international Wild West show. As lead buckaroo for the literary community, I give the space a western flavor, but that doesn’t mean we all write historical fiction. On the contrary, what makes the literary community dynamic is the diversity of writers who gather. We write across all genres, including specific fictions, memoir, poetry, education material, and science journalism. It fits the idea of Buffalo Bill’s troupe of daring feats because he also gathered a Congress of Rough Riders, claiming in an 1889 Annual that “the whole ensemble is totally dissimilar from anything the ingenuity of man has heretofore conceived or devised.” Buffalo Bill’s show differed from others because he presented an amalgamation of those who were true to their own style of riding.

As a literary community, Carrot Ranch allows writers the freedom to write as they are and what they please (provided, of course, it’s 99 words, no more, no less). I can imagine the nomads, tribesmen, and frontiersmen who rode for Buffalo Bill, learning from one another in moments of appreciation and shared skill. I’ve learned about genres outside my own, and a fair number of memoirists who thought they would never write fiction discovered they liked it. These same memoirists also taught the rest of us a hybrid of creative writing known as BOTS, which is fiction based on a true story.

Each week, I compile the gathered responses to create a unique literary performance from the prompt-based word play. Readers find much to consider among the comparisons, contrasts, perspectives, and structures conveyed. I say, with regularity, the compilation is my favorite part of the flash fiction challenges. I never know how the overall tone of stories will emerge. It’s become an inside ranch joke — don’t give these writers rainbows and unicorns because they’ll go deep and dark. (That’s a hint not to miss the last chapter from Part 1: Best of Show.)

Another interesting attribute of an online literary community is country of origin. Just like Buffalo Bill’s Congress was not all American, neither is the Carrot Ranch Congress. Rough Writers hail from across the globe — the United States, Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom, Poland, and Spain. The friends who join us weekly (new or intermittent writers) are also diverse. The appeal is an authentic community where writers are welcome to craft without critique or expectation. We’re as friendly as a western campfire at dinnertime on the long trail to pursue literary art. Each Rough Writer’s byline in this anthology denotes country of origin, and we’ve allowed for an editing process that honors both American and British styles of English. After all, Buffalo Bill would not have expected a nomad to ride the same saddle as a roper in his Wild West show. Diversity is our strength.

When Buffalo Bill sat on his horse and watched the Congress ride, I know how he felt, witnessing each daring feat. I recognize the styles of each Rough Writer, and yet they continue to delight and surprise me. They also inspire me in my own writing. I wanted to put together an anthology of our work that expanded what we do at Carrot Ranch each week. We entertain readers and provoke thoughtful response. An anthology can also be educational. Fellow Rough Writer Sarah Brentyn, a writing teacher, shared a vision for the educational potential of an anthology. As editor, she has guided the development of this book. Her keen insights for structure and literary credibility are invaluable. She worked with all twenty-eight writers to expand the scope of this book beyond the original 99-word stories we developed in 2014.

Part 1: Best of Show is twelve collections of ten 99-word stories. Each chapter in this part is titled according to the prompt given in the challenge. There is a vast variety in the responses, yet each individual flash fiction completes the whole. The stories are arranged in a creative way to make a greater statement. Sometimes the connections are overt, sometimes the stories contrast, and other times one story holds an idea expanded in the next. Book clubs can use this collection to discuss how the prompts were managed. Writers and non-writers can try their hand at penning a 99-word response to each prompt.

Chapter 1

Flash Fiction Challenge: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that demonstrates compassion.

Embracing the Individual by Geoff Le Pard (UK)

The girl laid flowers on the mossy grave. ‘What was grandpa like, Dad?’

Her father said, ‘He was a mixture of things, love. Kind, caring…’

‘At school they say he was gay.’

‘Yes. He was. After he divorced grandma he realised…’

‘And they say he had a weird religion.’

Her father forced a small smile. ‘A Buddhist. Not many in Liverpool.’

‘And he lived with a black man.’

Her father knelt down. ‘Those things are just dull wrapping paper. You have to rip that off to find the gift inside. Everyone is different but everyone is still a gift.’

Understanding by Norah Colvin (AU)

In the smart outfit carefully selected by the charity shop attendant, Marnie was surprised how well the confident exterior masked the whirlpool of fear, anxiety, and insecurity.

Without looking up, the receptionist handed Marnie a number and waved her to the waiting area.

“9.” Her heart sank. “That many?”

Avoiding contact and contamination, she squeezed into the only available space: between a boy slouching awkwardly and a girl picking her fingernails.

The girl started crying. Marnie stiffened, but glanced sideways. The girl cried into her sleeve.

Marnie breathed, proffered her unopened purse packet of just-in-case tissues, and smiled, “Here.”

Compassion by Irene Waters (AU)

So beautiful. No external mark hinted at the catastrophic injuries she had sustained in the crash. She was my patient, and I would give her the last dignities of life despite the tubes which gave her breath and drained her fluids.

“I’ll get security. The boyfriend’s getting angry. I’ve told him it’s relatives only. Some people.” My colleague went off, her huff travelling with her.

Some people indeed, I thought. I couldn’t leave my charge. I called over another colleague, who did my bidding.

The boyfriend stood behind the closed curtain with me. Tears streamed from four eyes. We hugged.

Compassion for the Relationship by Anne Goodwin (UK)

We never reserved I love you for Valentine’s and anniversaries, so why should it matter that, this year, you forgot? Yet I contemplate arsenic-on-toast for your breakfast; you couldn’t even bring me a cup of tea in bed.

Once you’re cleaned, fed, and dressed, we wait for the sitter. The hairdresser’s booked and the theatre, a restaurant reservation for one.

This evening, when I’m calm again, we’ll look through the photographs. “Who’s that handsome man with the carnation buttonhole?” I’ll say. I won’t mind if you can’t tell me; my memories of our marriage are strong enough for two.

Her Worth by Charli Mills (US)

The old mare hung her head low, lips quivering above grass-forsaken dirt, ribs protruding beneath a swayed back. She was broken.

“How much you want for her,” asked the Fed Ex driver.

A lean cowboy scrawled his signature for his box. “That nag?”

“That our wine?” A beautiful woman stepped out onto the deck.

The cowboy winked at the Fed Ex man. “There’s a beauty worth buying.”

“Can’t afford that one. How much for the horse?”

He knew his boss would ask how a starving mare got into the back of his van, but already her ears had perked.

A Plate of Food by Ruchira Khanna (US)

Sarita opened the door to her maid, who had brought her kid to work.

“He is my son, Jay,” introduced the maid with pride.

“Friends?” Sarita’s son, Hari, extended his hands towards him.

“Sure,” nodded Jay and they walked towards the toys.

While playing, Sarita brought a plate of food for her son.

Jay pretended to play while Hari was being fed. Just then, a morsel came towards him.

He looked up to see Hari’s hand holding a snack.

With moist eyes, he took the grub and soon both the boys were munching and giggling away.

Compassionate Neighbours by Susan Zutautas (CA)

Easter was approaching and there was barely enough food to feed the family of six let alone get the children any chocolate eggs or bunnies.

‘Stop worrying Agnes, surely some work will turn up soon’, said Roy.

Normally he was right but Agnes felt deep in her heart that this year there’d be no ham on their table for dinner.

It was Good Friday and Agnes heard a knock at the door. No one was there but there was a fairly large box sitting on the porch. It was filled with food, chocolate, and a ham.

Agnes’ heart melted.

Invisible by Sarah Brentyn (US)

“We’re late!” Jeremy snatched his coat from the closet. “Mum!”

“I know! Stop…stop yelling. We’ll be right there.”

“Mum, seriously! Coach will bench me!”

The clicking of cleats on tile echoed down the hallway. Jeremy’s face tightened with each step. He swung into the kitchen. “If I have to sit this game out I’ll…”

His mother sat on the floor stroking his little brother’s hair as he reached out again and again, touching the edge of the countertop. She didn’t look up. “We’ll be right there.”

“No, it’s good.” Jeremy crouched down. “We’ll go when you’re ready, okay buddy?”

No One Should Have It Coming by Amber Prince (US)

“He’s a troublemaker.”

“He has been in trouble before, but I wouldn’t call him a troublemaker.”

“Does it matter? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“It does matter, it’s a big deal, he came to you for help, and you ignored him.”

“I heard what he had to say, but how was I to know that the other kid was going to actually do something? That one is a good student.”

“And now?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? Fine, but the boy had it coming.”

“You’re wrong. No one should have it coming.”

Coffee Break by Larry LaForge (US)

Robert scooted from his early morning sociology class to the coffee shop downtown.

Turning onto Main, he spotted someone sitting on the corner holding a crude cardboard sign: A FRIEND IN NEED. He watched as many passersby nodded with sympathy but generally avoided eye contact. Some folks tossed coins into the box without missing a step as they continued on.

Robert checked his pocket for cash, entered the cafe, and ordered two large coffees to go.

“Cream and sugar?” Robert asked as he plopped down next to the vagrant.

They talked for two hours about sports, weather and politics.