And incredible things will happen. This is my tribute to Nanowrimo: a month of madness and true happiness.
Nanowrimo 2011
Today is the twenty-seventh day of November, Anno Domini 2011, and I’m officially done with my Nanowrimo challenge. I’m tired, my neck is stiff, the inflammation in my arm is flaring up. I ate too much, I cooked too little, and I am overall a mess. But, I am a satisfied, happy mess. This is my third Nano, and although not finishing wasn’t a possibility, I had several obstacles along the way. I was reminded time and again that freedom of writing is not granted, and that I’m addicted to it. Pax at War is 80k, 50k of them written in twenty-seven days in bursts of 3/4000 words at a time. Physical therapy, at some point four times a week, chronic pain, and other problems did their best to dampen my mood, but I sat and I wrote. Physical therapy will end, the chronic pain will lessen—or I’ll find a way to manage it, my mood will soar again, but Pax at War will be here forever to remind me that was worth suffering. I’m lucky that not only I don’t have anything disabling, but that my husband believes in what I do and let me do it. So, three days after Thanksgiving, I can repeat here what I said before family and friends: I’m grateful for my life. Now, back to writing.
Got Interviewed?
Twice! Okay, I’ll admit this is shameless plug, but I’m a newbie, my first novel isn’t out, yet—although it should’ve been out a month ago, but that’s a different story…anyway, my point is I enjoyed seeing my words running freely somewhere else, and I want to share here as well.
My first interview was with Andy Rane, and it was lots of fun. Andy asks the same six questions to all his guests, and I took my time to make the answers as short as they could get.
The second interview just got out today, and it was about my Nanonwrimo experience with Ashley Paternostro who runs a delightful blog called La Bella Novella.
Forever
(Flash fiction inspired by PZ’s picture Scambiando Colore)*
“Drink it,” he says.
I take the glass from the stem, and I gingerly wrap my fingers around it. The dew condensing on the surface makes me shiver.
“It’s only a sip,” he tries again, and smiles while drinking from his glass.
I raise my eyes to look at him. He is beautiful, and young, and full of promises.
“What you feel now it’s going to last forever; don’t you want to be with me forever?” The final question.
“Well, forever it’s an awful long time to be stuck with you.”
*There are two versions of this flash fiction. The picture inspired me twice; this is the first one.
Fish out of water
My mind feels like a black chalkboard. Everybody can write on it and erase what they want. They say I feel this way because I am young. They say one day I’ll grow out of me and I’ll become someone else: a stronger, beautiful version of what I am now. But, what if I don’t want to be like the ones bullying me now? What if I want to remain small insignificant me for the rest of my life?
Submersed Feelings
(Flash fiction inspired by PZ’s picture Roma Fa Riflettere)
There is a bright light coming from outside. I remember when the sun shone for more than five hours a day. Rome was glorious then. I remember people walking by. Romans were proud and always busy. I remember the smells changing every season. Now, it would be roasted chestnuts on open fires. My body is decaying, but my mind is sharp. I stare at the image framed by the window, and I wish I could get near and read what it says. A school of fish swims by and covers the letters on the billboard. There is more and more of them, marine animals, reclaiming a territory that once was theirs. I watch from my submersed capsule as the light flickers and dies.
Darker
(Flash fiction inspired by PZ’s picture, Le Corti Tornano)
It’s that time of the month. I can feel it in my skin, crawling. She has already left to find herself. I don’t want to. I struggle and fight. But, it is stronger than me.
I can sense her, around the corner, rejoicing in the power. I hate it. I hate her. I hate myself. I know I am weak, and I’ll succumb to the calling. I’ll do it again, and again, and again, to be with her. The last store shuts off the lights. I shiver. I am alone, defenseless. The Three Moons shine in the dark sky.
Revolution!
There is a moment in life when you had enough and you have 
to make a stance. It begins slowly, but then the indignation grows unbearable, and you feel you can’t just sit and wait for someone else to sort it out for you. You also feel guilty, because you have already said yes to the other humiliating requests. You did. And, it shames you that you did. You should have said no. You should have rebelled, if not for you, for your kids, and your kids’ kids. Instead, you found an accommodation. So, with great trepidation, and sour-sweet sadness, after ten years, you make the final call:
“Honey, terminate Netflix.”
Nocturne
(Flash fiction piece written for Austin Briggs’ Write-n-Win! 55 words contest)
“Mommy, Mommy! Look up!” Lucille glides weightlessly, skirting rocks and grass.
“The night is bright,” Mom says, closely following her.
“Look at the round light!” Lucille happily somersaults. “It’s so yellow, and so big, and so shiny. Can you catch it for me?”
“For you, my sweet fry, the Moon and the Stars aren’t enough!”
Waiting
(Inspired by P.Z’s picture “Viaggi in Arrivo”)
The train it’s late. It’s always late. But, the kid is there, waiting, as usual.
“What time is it?” he asks a man passing by, and shrugs his shoulders at the answer.
Every day the same. The person he asks what time is it is different, but the rest doesn’t change. It’s always late. But, it’s never the right moment. He is waiting for the right late train to arrive.
“Which one are you waiting for?” the man asks.
It’s a first. Normally, the person doesn’t stop. The kid looks at the man with curiosity, but doesn’t answer back.
“Are you alone?” The man is getting worried.
I want to go back,” the kid finally says, his face tired.
“Back where? To your mother?”
To my wife and my daughter. I took the wrong train long time ago, and it hasn’t come back, yet.”
Monica La Porta 
