Bill Engleson


Bill EnglesonBill Engleson is the winner of MB1.50. Follow him on Twitter, take a look at his website, and go read his novel, Like a Child to Home.

I am a retired Social Worker, I live on a small Island, write, volunteer on local health organization Boards as well as at our local volunteer library, The Dora Drinkwater. Did I say write?

100 words ain’t many. How do you fit a story into so few words? I think it is all about framing a mood, distilling the essence.

Why do you like flash fiction? There is an immediacy in flash fiction. I write 4-6 pieces a week now. Each site I visit is different from the others. The challenges, while similar, are sufficiently different to appeal to slightly varied story forms.

Been writing long? Dabbled always. Since retirement 13 years ago or so, regularly.

You write anything else? Poetry, letters to the editor. A monthly column in our Island journal, The Flagstone. The column is called In 200 Words or Less.

Any advice for other flash writers? There are so many great writers writing. I’d be better advised to take advice from them.

Any interesting writerly projects in the pipeline? I have two draft books of essays (life and politics in my rural heaven) that I am slowly editing/assembling. And a prequel to my first Social Work noir novel. On two of the sites I visit, Thursday Threads and Flash Mob Writes, I have two “serial” mysteries evolving.

I just finished reading a book. Can you recommend another? Cry, the Beloved Country.

1.50 PERFECT [micro] PITCH

Cortigiana di Lume

Bill Engleson

Perfect, she is! Perfectomundo, she might once have said! In certain casually carnal company. In the end, all she could think, sadly, was how perfunctory it had become!

Glenys Walters sits before the mirror. Her finger traces a wrinkle that insists on flinging itself out from the left side of her face right near where her upper and lower lips converge, that little fleshy junction, spiraling into a demisemihemidemisemiquaver.

She has risen too far above her station; her wiles, her guile, strings pulled and plucked, the back stairways where the aromatics wander in search of favors, ever pandering for her piquant pleasures, for the courtesans indulgently intoxicating pitch.

I treat Micro Bookends as a poetic challenge, mixed with the concept of a crossword puzzle. This story began with the idea of perfection and how often it fails. My other submission more captured the photo prompt.