Write a flash fiction story that uses 150 words. That is the challenge of this contest. Write a story (on any topic) using exactly 150 words. The title does not count towards the word count. Online word processor is an estimate only. We recommend the use of a computer word processor to count the words.
The autumn wind carried salt and sorrow across Plymouth’s fields. Of the women who sailed on the Mayflower, only four remained— 78% claimed by disease and hunger. Yet the survivors gathered, hearts heavy but hopeful.
Pilgrim men, women, and children set rough-hewn tables outside their modest homes. King Massasoit arrived with 90 Wampanoag warriors, their steps steady, faces proud. They brought five deer, slain in the forest, a gift of meat to share.
The feast began with prayer, giving thanks for survival, for corn and squash, for new allies. Laughter mingled with the crackle of fires. Wampanoag and Pilgrims ate together— venison, wildfowl, and harvest bounty.
They celebrated life’s fragile persistence. Amid loss and plenty, gratitude mutually bound them. The first Thanksgiving was not just a meal, but a promise to endure, together.
For three vivid days, gratitude blazed brighter than loss, binding strangers in a fierce, fleeting harmony.
The first Thanksgiving: 1621 autumn harvest feast shared by 52 English colonists (Pilgrims) and 90 members of the Wampanoag people in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Fires roared, spitting sparks into the twilight. Pilgrims and Wampanoag feasted on sizzling meat, sweet squash, and tart berries, voices rising in prayer and song. Children darted through legs, laughter piercing the chill. For three vivid days, gratitude blazed brighter than loss, binding strangers in a fierce, fleeting harmony. It was a celebration of Thanksgiving to their Creator, not about the food.
Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. No animals were harmed in the course of this story, not even a turkey.
It was supposed to be the Thanksgiving of legends in my Antelope, California, home — a Pinterest-perfect feast where I’d flex my culinary muscles and make my Louisiana mama proud.
I’d scrubbed the house until it gleamed like a used car lot, drafted a grocery list so detailed it could’ve doubled as a military operation manual, and had visions of a turkey so golden it’d make Gordon Ramsay weep.
But, as the universe loves to remind me, I’m the kind of person who’d schedule a root canal for fun. I’d mixed up the dates. Mom wasn’t flying in two days from now—she was already here.
The doorbell didn’t just ring; it wailed like a banshee. I flung open the door to find my mother, Queen of Jambalaya, standing there in a bedazzled “Gumbo Goddess” sweatshirt, dragging a suitcase the size of a small Buick.
“Flights were for suckers, baby,” she declared, waving a gas station coffee cup like a scepter. “Drove 2,000 miles in my ’98 Corolla. Nearly ran over a tumbleweed in Nevada, but we made it!”
We? Oh, sweet chaos — she’d brought her neighbor, Miss Claudette, a woman who smells like mothballs and talks to her pet parrot (who wasn’t invited, thank goodness).
My brain short-circuited. The fridge held half a stick of butter, a questionable yogurt, and a single carrot that looked like it was auditioning for a horror movie.
Every store in Antelope was closed tighter than my wallet after a Black Friday bender. In a panic, I dialed Domino’s, the last bastion of hope in this culinary wasteland.
The guy who answered—let’s call him Chad—sounded like he was one order away from joining a monastery.
“Ma’am, we’re out of soda, wings, and joy. I got two pizzas, maybe. Delivery in 90 minutes. You want ‘em or not?”
I begged for those pizzas like I was negotiating a hostage crisis, throwing in a “pretty please” for some garlic sauce to soothe my shattered dreams.
While we waited, the house descended into a circus. Mom, wielding a bottle of hot sauce like a wizard’s wand, decided my kitchen needed “reorganizing” and stacked my Tupperware into a leaning tower of plastic.
Miss Claudette, meanwhile, was narrating her life story to my toaster, claiming it “had a kind face.”
My cousins, who’d crashed the party uninvited (because apparently “RSVP” means “bring your whole zip code”), were arguing over who’d win in a cage match: a turkey or a raccoon.
My nephew, Timmy, a 7-year-old agent of chaos, found a bag of frozen tater tots in the freezer and was now building a “potato fort” on the coffee table, using ketchup packets as mortar.
The Domino’s guy finally arrived, looking like he’d survived a zombie apocalypse. He handed over two pizzas—one pepperoni, the other sporting what looked like a crime scene of mismatched toppings (pineapple? Anchovies? Who hurt you, Chad?).
No soda, no sides, just a single, crumpled packet of parmesan dust. I tipped him with pocket lint and a whispered, “You’re my only friend.”
The dining room became a scene from a fever dream. Mom, undeterred by the lack of a proper feast, declared the pizza “Cajun fusion” and drowned her slice in hot sauce so spicy it could strip paint.
Cousin Jerry, who fancies himself a “foodie” because he once ate a gas station burrito and lived, tried to “plate” his pizza with a pair of tongs, only to launch a rogue anchovy into Miss Claudette’s beehive hairdo.
She didn’t notice, too busy telling my lamp about her bunion surgery. Timmy, now hopped up on stolen Halloween candy, declared himself “Emperor of Pizza-giving” and started pelting everyone with tater tots, screaming, “Bow to my crust!”
My sister, ever the optimist, tried to salvage the vibe by blasting a Christmas polka playlist from her phone.
Picture this: a room full of lunatics eating pizza under siege by flying tater tots, while “Jingle Bell Rock” gets a polka remix and my dog, Rufus, decides now’s the time to steal an entire pizza box and drag it under the couch, growling like he’s guarding the Holy Grail.
Mom, unfazed, raised a Solo cup of tap water (because, you know, no soda) and toasted, “To family, to madness, and to Domino’s for not hanging up on us!”
The room erupted in cheers, mostly because Cousin Jerry had just accidentally snorted parmesan dust and was coughing like he’d inhaled a glitter bomb.
By the end of the night, the house looked like a tornado hit a pizzeria. Timmy was asleep in his tater tot fort, clutching a candy cane. Miss Claudette was serenading the toaster with “O Holy Night.”
My cousins were plotting a midnight run to a 24-hour diner for “real food,” and Mom was already planning next year’s menu — spoiler: it’s gumbo with a side of pizza.
As I surveyed the wreckage, Mom slung an arm around me and cackled, “Baby, this was better than any ol’ turkey. We’re the Pizza-giving pioneers!” And honestly? She wasn’t wrong.
No one’s ever gonna top the year Antelope, California, reinvented Thanksgiving with a side of anchovies and pure, unfiltered chaos.
Mastering Storytelling Techniques: Tips from a Children’s Author
Hello, fellow storytellers and book lovers! Welcome back to Narrative Nook, where we dive into the art of crafting tales that captivate hearts and minds. As a children’s author with theDiscovering Mistyseries under my belt (available on Amazon) and my upcoming picture bookGeorge and the Brave Eagle(set to release soon—stay tuned!), I’ve spent years honing my storytelling craft. Today, I’m excited to share some practical tips on key storytelling methods: character development, plot structure, and theme exploration. I’ll break them down with examples from my own work and timeless classics, so you can apply these techniques to your writing. Whether you’re penning your first story or refining your next manuscript, these insights can elevate your narratives.
Character Development: Breathing Life into Your Heroes and Villains
Character development is the heartbeat of any story—it’s what makes readers care, laugh, cry, or cheer. The key is to create multi-dimensional characters who evolve over time, revealing layers through actions, dialogue, and backstory. Start by giving your characters clear motivations, flaws, and arcs. Avoid flat archetypes; instead, show growth through challenges.
Tip 1: Use “Show, Don’t Tell” for Depth
Rather than stating “Misty is curious,” demonstrate it through her actions. This builds empathy and immersion.
From myDiscovering Mistyseries, Misty, a young explorer, starts as a timid girl afraid of the unknown. In the first book, she hesitates to enter a mysterious forest, but by facing small obstacles—like solving a riddle from a talking animal— she gains confidence. This arc mirrors Harry Potter’s journey in J.K. Rowling’s series, where Harry’s initial insecurity as an orphan evolves into brave leadership through trials at Hogwarts. To make this stick in your writing, jot down a “character bible” with traits, backstories, and pivotal moments before drafting.
Tip 2: Incorporate Internal Conflict
Give characters inner struggles that clash with external events. This adds realism and tension.
InGeorge and the Brave Eagle, George is a boy who dreams of adventure but fears heights. His internal battle—wanting to soar with the eagle but doubting himself—drives the story. Think of Elizabeth Bennet in Jane Austen’sPride and Prejudice, whose prejudice against Mr. Darcy creates delicious internal (and external) conflict, leading to profound growth. Pro tip: Use journal entries or monologues in your drafts to explore a character’s thoughts, then weave them subtly into the narrative.
Plot Structure: Building a Solid Framework for Your Tale
A strong plot structure keeps readers hooked from start to finish. I like to think of it as a rollercoaster: setup the climb, deliver thrilling drops, and end with a satisfying resolution. Classic structures like Freytag’s Pyramid (exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, denouement) provide a reliable blueprint, but feel free to twist it for surprise.
Tip 1: Balance Pacing with Stakes
Ramp up tension gradually, raising the stakes to maintain momentum. Too slow, and readers disengage; too fast, and it feels rushed.
In the Discovering Mistybooks, the plot builds from Misty’s everyday life (exposition) to discovering a hidden world (rising action), culminating in a showdown with a mythical guardian (climax). This echoes the structure in C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, where the Pevensie children’s ordinary world gives way to Narnia’s escalating battles, peaking at the Stone Table confrontation. To apply this, outline your plot points on index cards and rearrange them to ensure escalating conflict—aim for each scene to advance the story or reveal character.
Tip 2: Incorporate Twists and Subplots
Weave in subplots that support the main arc, and add unexpected twists to keep things fresh.
ForGeorge and the Brave Eagle, a subplot involves George’s friendship with a wise old birdwatcher, which provides clues for the main quest and leads to a twist about the eagle’s true identity. A famous example is the revelation in Charlotte Brontë’sJane Eyreabout Mr. Rochester’s secret wife—a twist that reshapes the plot while deepening themes of love and morality. Tip: Plant subtle foreshadowing early to make twists feel earned, not contrived. Read your draft aloud to spot pacing issues.
Theme Exploration: Weaving Deeper Meaning into Your Narrative
Themes are the soul of your story—the underlying messages that linger with readers. Explore them through symbols, motifs, and character choices, but avoid preaching; let themes emerge organically.
Tip 1: Choose Universal Themes with Personal Twists
Pick relatable ideas like courage, friendship, or self-discovery, then infuse them with your unique voice.
MyDiscovering Mistyseries explores themes of curiosity and environmental stewardship—Misty’s adventures highlight how exploring nature fosters respect for it. Similarly, in George and the Brave Eagle, the theme of overcoming fear is central, symbolized by the eagle’s flight. Draw from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince, where themes of love and loss are explored through whimsical encounters, leaving readers pondering human connections. To develop this, brainstorm themes during outlining, then track how they appear in key scenes.
Tip 2: Use Symbolism and Repetition
Repeat motifs to reinforce themes without overt explanation.
InGeorge and the Brave Eagle, feathers symbolize growth, appearing first as a found token and later as a badge of bravery. This technique shines in F. Scott Fitzgerald’sThe Great Gatsby, where the green light represents unattainable dreams, recurring to underscore themes of aspiration and disillusionment. Pro tip: After drafting, highlight thematic elements in different colors to ensure balance—too subtle, and they fade; too heavy, and they overwhelm.
Storytelling is both an art and a craft, and these techniques have been game-changers for me as I bring stories like Discovering MistyandGeorge and the Brave Eagleto life. Experiment with them in your own work, and remember: the best stories come from passion and persistence. What’s your favorite storytelling technique? Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear from you and maybe feature your tips in a future post!
If you’re inspired, check out the Discovering Mistyseries on Amazon for more adventure-filled tales, and keep an eye out for George and the Brave Eagle. Happy writing!
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