Rebecca M. Douglass, Author

I've been pretty absent from this blog space through the holidays, and it's hard getting back into the routine, but I'm making an effort! Next week I'll start with some more photos--my August backpacking trip in Montana/Wyoming, but today we have a bit of all-new flash fiction! Just one of my typically goofy little stories. I hope you enjoy it!   Dance Class  Urgle the Andromedan studied themself in the mirror and cringed. “You need to get in shape,” they said. It was a common refrain in all corners of the great space station, since anyone arriving there had been in space a long time. It’s hard to stay fit in space. Urgle considered the equipment in the ship’s exercise room. They’d long since tired of it all, and settled for minimum fitness. Their dominant arms and legs were strong enough to serve, but the lesser limbs were flabby, and their core—no good thinking about the core, which was too complex to understand anyway. While cleaning their ...

My poet friend Deborah Bacharach ( check out her work ) suggested yesterday that writing something, anything, was the way to start the new year. I then bethought me of Crimson's Creative Challenge , which I know about because of another writer friend, Jemima Pett , who regularly posts drabbles inspired by the challenge. Time for me to join and get back to writing flash fiction. For the challenge, Crispina Kemp posts 4 photos each week and you can pick one (or more, presumably) as inspiration for a creative response. This week is challenge #67. Word count is supposed to be capped at 150.  My choice of image: A humpback stone bridge with a kiosk and a lot of mist.   I liked the image, and it resonated with the way my neighborhood was blanketed in thick fog on NYE when I got home from my hike (which had been out of the fog and in the sun, when not under the trees).  This was my neighborhood on New Year's Eve. Visibility half a block. Here's my story, for your amusement this ...

I got distracted this week and didn't finish editing the photos I meant to share today, so I'm giving you a story to read instead.  This is a story from the Ninja Librarian's world, written in 2013 for a flash fiction challenge requiring me to include a list of words. I used it as an excuse to give a voice to one of the secondary characters in  The Ninja Librarian , I think as I was working on or just as I published the second book in the series,  Return to Skunk Corners . Without further ado, here's Tess, of Two-Timin' Tess's Tavern with her take on the arrival of the Ninja Librarian in Skunk Corners.   Tess's Tale   Everyone knows Big Al, the chief storyteller of Skunk Corners. And Tom himself has had a thing or two to say from time to time, but in my opinion the time has come for some of us common folk of Skunk Corners to have a turn. So, Tess Noreen here, of Two-Timin' Tess's Tavern, to tell you how it was the day Ninja Tom ...

This was my take on an exercise I had my students do a couple of weeks ago, where we were to write a story from one point of view, then rewrite from another. I've tweaked it some, but it remains what it was from the start, i.e., an exercise. But it's kind of fun so I thought I'd share it anyway.  I'll get back to pretty pictures next week.   At the Track 1. The jockey’s story   Albert crouched on the back of Silver Streak, absurdly small atop the tall racehorse, muscles tensed and ready for the sound of the gun. Take it easy. Don’t let the horse feel any unease. Tension was okay, if it was the good kind, to give horse and rider a sharp edge. He found the perfect position, the riding crop poised, as if Silver would need any urging when the gun sounded and the gates opened. That horse knew how to run. Silver Streak loved to race.   Bang! The muscles of the powerful animal bunched under Albert. They burst through the gate like one creature, in ...

A couple of weeks ago I offered my seniors' writing class a selection of wonky characters to work with, and nabbed a pair for myself. The following is the result, though I could see making some changes and turning it into a full-length short story (is that an oxymoron?) Among the Dunes “Damn!” Bargo let the air-cruiser coast toward the surface of the planet he’d come to pillage. Once again the blasted impulsion motor had cut out and he was about to be stranded… where? He pulled up his map and tried to figure that out. Somewhere in the middle of something called the “Mojave Desert.” His home planet had only one biome, the one inside the domes, so he wasn’t sure what that meant, but based on what he was seeing below him, it meant nothing good. He shifted to concentrate on landing in one piece, for all the good it might do him. The air-cruiser landed gently in one of the clear spaces, where he was pretty sure he’d not rip the belly out on the sharp rocks or po...

While I'm out playing, I'm re-running some flash fiction for your enjoyment. This one dates to something like 2017, and I think came from a challenge where people wrote a first paragraph and we selected one to complete. 1160 words.   Millions of Cats   Things never work out according to plan when there are cats involved.   I knew that, and I should have known better than to take the job.   But Keelan made it all sound so easy: we just had to pick up the consignment from Alpha-Centauri 4 and take them to Exilion 17.   Four days, max, and two of them in hyperspace.   “What could go wrong?”   I should really have run when Keelan said that, because I know darned well that anytime those words are uttered a disaster is sure to follow.   Unfortunately, we needed cash, and the cat people had it.   So we went and picked up the load of cats.   That was where the trouble began.   They were supposed to be cr...

I'm teaching a short-story class at the senior center just now--primarily providing writing prompts and some conversation about aspects of story-creation. Since a chunk of the class time is spent in writing to the prompts, I'm taking the opportunity to do so along with my students. I had to finish the story at home, but it was fun to sit in a room with other people, all of us scribbling or typing away. This was my take on one of the prompts... what happens when a superhero needs a vacation.  A Quiet Day at the Beach   Lois stripped off her cape, letting the fabric waft to the floor, heedless of the dust. She could regret that later when she had to clean it. Silly thing to wear, anyway, but it did look cool when she was flying. She made herself pick it up before she wriggled out of the bodysuit that went with it. Damn, but it was getting hard to keep in shape for an outfit like that, super-powers or no. When the magic powers were handed out they never t...

My brother set this challenge, based on something he saw in the grocery store... it's a very short flash, just over 250 words.  Harvest Time It wasn’t the farmer’s favorite job. At the end of the growing season, the crop had to be brought in, and it was… disconcerting. Right up to harvest time, the crop was a pleasure to tend. He liked it all, carefully managing the fields, not thinking about the end.   He looked out over the fields now, aware that harvest time was coming fast. There were certain unmistakable signs, a stillness that began to settle over the fields. One more day. Not for the first time, he wished he could pick the time. It was going to be unseasonably warm.   The next morning, the farmer check the crop and called out the harvest crew. Distributing the special rakes, he made the usual speech, with extra urgency.   “We have to work hard to get the harvest in before it spoils in this heat. You know the drill. Into the bin...