Most authors think about whether or not they should post their writings for free. Last year I had some good conversations with several authors about this. One friend, Lindsay Buroker, actually has an entire novel for free on the internet. Another friend, Karen Malena, shares some of her short stories on her blog. I invite you to check these ladies out. They are both excellent writers and I always enjoy reading their stories.
In this blog post I want to share with you the first short story I wrote as an adult. In fact, it is so short that it will fit on one page. A friend told me once it is almost too short to be flash fiction and should be considered micro fiction. I will let you decide for yourself how to categorize it.
Anyway, it is thought-provoking piece and I trust you will enjoy this story:
THE SILENT STAR
In this blog post I want to share with you the first short story I wrote as an adult. In fact, it is so short that it will fit on one page. A friend told me once it is almost too short to be flash fiction and should be considered micro fiction. I will let you decide for yourself how to categorize it.
Anyway, it is thought-provoking piece and I trust you will enjoy this story:
THE SILENT STAR
I walked into the auditorium, head held high, and sat on the piano bench. My heart pounded and fingers trembled as I attempted to appear poised. With several deep breaths and a silent prayer I placed my hands over the keys.
My concert began. It contained childhood favorites and was destined to be my best. Those countless years of practice paid off. The program started with light happy tunes: Beethoven’s Fur Elise, Schubert’s Impromptu in A flat, and Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto #1. I wanted my audience to feel good: about themselves, life in general and my music. Next were reflective pieces, starting with Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, then Finlandia by Sibelius and Debussy’s Reverie. My goal was to give people time to meditate on their lives. These pieces were my childhood. I played with my heart as well as my hands.
I paused before playing my final number, Moussorgsky’s Great Gate of Kiev. It was an unusual piece for a finale. However, it included everything I wanted: creativity, grandeur and success. I poured myself into my music until shoulders ached and fingers twitched. I finished, exhausted. After that, the most I could handle was a slight bow from my bench.
Once again I placed my fingers on the keys. My encore was Chopin’s Funeral March, in tribute to the empty auditorium and to a dying dream. Before the notes finished their final echo I slid to the floor, sobbing violently. My dream of becoming a concert pianist and performing for great audiences was finally buried.
After an eternity I rose and paraded out of the silent hall to respond to the greater calling. I was destined to work with small children who were underprivileged and needy. My music would live inside – forever sustaining me.
copyright 2003-2014 Crystal Linn
All Rights Reserved
My concert began. It contained childhood favorites and was destined to be my best. Those countless years of practice paid off. The program started with light happy tunes: Beethoven’s Fur Elise, Schubert’s Impromptu in A flat, and Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto #1. I wanted my audience to feel good: about themselves, life in general and my music. Next were reflective pieces, starting with Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, then Finlandia by Sibelius and Debussy’s Reverie. My goal was to give people time to meditate on their lives. These pieces were my childhood. I played with my heart as well as my hands.
I paused before playing my final number, Moussorgsky’s Great Gate of Kiev. It was an unusual piece for a finale. However, it included everything I wanted: creativity, grandeur and success. I poured myself into my music until shoulders ached and fingers twitched. I finished, exhausted. After that, the most I could handle was a slight bow from my bench.
Once again I placed my fingers on the keys. My encore was Chopin’s Funeral March, in tribute to the empty auditorium and to a dying dream. Before the notes finished their final echo I slid to the floor, sobbing violently. My dream of becoming a concert pianist and performing for great audiences was finally buried.
After an eternity I rose and paraded out of the silent hall to respond to the greater calling. I was destined to work with small children who were underprivileged and needy. My music would live inside – forever sustaining me.
copyright 2003-2014 Crystal Linn
All Rights Reserved
Wishing you success on your own life's journey, Crystal
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