This is my first attempt at No Genre Fiction. It has no Romance, no Mystery, no Zombies, Aliens, or Vampires. It follows the rules as to no genre and it is a fictional story about something that can happen in everyday life.
So do you think it could be classified as, No Genre Fiction? Or do you think it would be Chick lit?
Find one person's definition for Chick lit here http://chicklitbooks.com/what-is-chick-lit/
Okay here's my story...
"All Grown Up"
I look at my reflection in the mirror. No longer a child, there’s a young woman staring back at me. I hear the knock at the door and glance over my shoulder as my maid of honor opens it.
Standing there in his dark tuxedo, looking more handsome than I can ever remember, is my dad. He puts out his arm to me and asks, “Ready to go?”
I walk over and kiss him on the cheek. Our eyes are almost even now and I wonder, Has he gotten shorter, or is it just that I have grown taller? This man who used to tower over me when he taught me how to ride a bike and to throw a baseball when I wanted to join little league. Leaving a smudge of lipstick, I wipe it away with the tip of a finger, nod my approval, and notice the gray that streaks through his hair. I slip my arm through his and whisper, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I let him lead me out into the foyer as the music begins. Our steps are matched in harmony as we walk towards the alter and I can feel the eyes on us, watching every step we take. There is Aunt Mae, smiling and wiggling her fingers in a wave. And Uncle Henry, tugging at his tie, and looking bored out of his skin. Too many people watching us. It makes the heat rise high on my cheeks. I feel exposed and jittery. I stumble and tighten my grip on dad’s arm.
He pats my hand and smiles. His smile comforts me. Me, his little girl, looking all grown up in white satin and lace. “You okay?” He asks. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
I smile at him through the lacy gauze of my veil. “Dad were you this nervous when you married mom?”
He leans his head against mine and whispers so only I can hear. “I was so nervous; I forgot to put my socks on. My feet started to sweat and my shoes slipped up and down. I had blisters for weeks.”
I chuckle at his secret. We pause next to the pew mom is sitting in. Even though her smile beams with love, her eyes fill with tears. She dabs at her eyes and gives me a watery smile. I smile back and can feel my own tears well up as I turn my attention to the handsome man waiting for me at the alter. Dad takes my hand and holds it out to this man, who in a few moments of time will become my husband. As I let go of dad’s hand I know in his eyes I will always be his little girl, but as I take the hand of my husband to be, I know in fact that I am “All Grown Up.”
Okay that's my story. What do you think? C.K. Hopper left a comment on my other post saying that No Genre Fiction sounds rather boring, so I tried to make it as entertaining as possible.
I am writing another one titled, "Passing the Time" that I will submit to a magazine that only accepts No Genre Fiction.
Also I have a question; Do you think No Genre Fiction can only be written in first person POV, or do you think it's possible to write it in second or third person POV?
And if you'd like to try No Genre Fiction, post a short story on your blog and then email me the link and I'll do a post, sharing everyone's links.
Have a great weekend everyone! And stop by my other blog and check out all the covers so far for, "Show Me Your Cover! http://karensdifferentcorners.wordpress.com/category/book-covers/show-me-your-cover/