FICTION by Allison Symes Theme for March—Celebrating Women

This makes a great topic for flash fiction and non-fiction and so apt for the theme of International Women’s Day this month. My challenge this time is for both, though I’m sharing an example of my flash fiction for this one.

For fiction, you could take your female character and show us through her actions and attitudes what makes her worth celebrating. What does she achieve? Readers will need to see the achievement is of the utmost importance to her and why it is should be understandable too.

For example, if she is trying to pass exams to get to college, why does getting to that college matter? Is this her first go at those exams or has she had to come back from past failures and pluck up courage to try again?

Again, for fiction, you could show a female character overcoming the odds (which is mytake with my story below) and there can be a crossover with non-fiction here.

Take the wonderful example of Marie Curie. Think about how much she achieved with her scientific discoveries. You could write a flash non-fiction piece about her and why we should celebrate her. You could also fictionalize one aspect to her remarkable life and show us this in a story. You could do both!

Given the challenge is for a maximum of 300 words as usual, it pays to focus on one thing to celebrate about the woman you’re writing about, even if it is someone you’ve invented. For flash non-fiction, you could hint at other things your woman should be celebrated for as that would, I hope, trigger readers to find out more about your subject.

One of the things I love most about flash is it does make you focus and I’ve found that helpful for other forms of writing too.

Writing down a few notes as to what makes your character special (whether you’re writing flash fiction or non-fiction) would pay off here. I often do this. A few notes as to why I want to write this character up helps me fine tune my idea and I then hit the ground running with my first draft. I’ve done this with my flash piece here.

Why not try writing flash fiction and non-fiction on this great theme? As ever, I look forward to seeing what you come up with and my piece is below.

Flash Fiction

Character: Jasmine

Reason Why Special: Finds her own way of supporting the women of her world. Is considered weak by others.

Plot Line: Has to overcome a corrupt official and a dragon threatening her world.

The Right Person, The Right Job

‘What do you mean? Send Jasmine, weakest of my magical children? Much as I wish Jasmine would improve magically, that dragon isn’t having her!’

‘It requires a sacrifice, master. I thought…’

‘My Jasmine was disposable. Send her here.’

‘Father, I’m already here. I like eavesdropping. Your Lord Chancellor wants me to go because he dislikes women. We are all the same to him. I will tackle the dragon.’

‘Jasmine, that brute will kill you.’

‘I have an idea, Father. If it works, our realm need never fear that beast again. If it doesn’t, the dragon gets its sacrifice.’

‘But…’

‘Father, you know as I do, someone must tackle that dragon. If I succeed, it is to be enshrined in law women must have the same rights as men, and the Lord Chancellor can live on a planet where they don’t treat women well. He’d like that.’

‘Princess…’

‘Lord Chancellor, don’t try your false protestations of caring for women on me. We know you don’t. Why else repeatedly send women to prison for twice the length of sentence as men for the same crime?’ ***

Three hours later

‘Finished packing, Lord Chancellor?’

‘You royal brat…’

‘What did you call my daughter, ex Lord Chancellor?’

‘Sorry, Sire.’

‘Apologise to Princess Jasmine.’

‘If you insist, Sire.’

‘I do. On your knees and off you go. Your transport awaits.’

‘Could I ask how did the Princess make the dragon fly off and promise to leave us be?’

‘Lord Chancellor, I gave her a job. She’s not been well treated by males in her time either. She is now the King’s Flight. You are leaving this world by dragon. It should not be a bumpy ride though it may be short. Oh and, Father, I am to become our world’s first Lady Chancellor, yes?’

Celebrating My Mother

by Jennifer Sanders

What happened to the girl in the photograph?

friends. Now standing trim in Guide uniform; seated round a bonfire; here she is laughing in fancy dress at a summer camp in a blurry field.

I see her there smiling - disingenuous and carefree, relaxed and uninhibited - from black and white images; long plaits wound round her head, bright eyes, and ready smile.

Here she is as a teenager with her family; there she is perched on a gate with her

Here she is as a student midwife, each swaddled bundle a trophy of care; and now a staff midwife supervising others with enviable efficiency, and teaching her Jamaican friend how to ride a bicycle. Look as she stands astride the motorbike she loved, which first piqued the interest and drew the admiring eye of a young chemist

But where did she go?

Now she sits, bent over the Telegraph crossword, the day dictated by routine, and medical appointments; the slow hours measured and regulated by her shopping, meal times, Countdown, and the inevitable night time Horlicks, interspersed with visits to her husband of almost 60 years, himself stooped and confused in the local care home.

And I wonder what she thinks about at night when sleep evades her, anxieties torment her, and her body reminds her of her octogenarian limitations.

I ponder on Shakespeare’s seven ages of man and consider where I feature in his sobering summation of life. Am I graciously accepting of my circumstances, or fighting the specter of the Grim Reaper with every fiber of my being?

Do the women in my life who walk a step or two ahead of me inspire me for the final laps; to run with courage, fortitude, perseverance, gratitude, and twinkling good humour?

I choose to say, ‘Yes.’

Many women treated this new-style census with suspicion, believing that the Government was intruding into their personal lives. In addition, many suffrage groups had grown increasingly frustrated by the Government’s broken promises regarding enfranchisement for women. (A People’s Suffrage Bill had been rejected in favour of a Man Only Bill).

Some Suffrage leaders urged women to boycott the census – by staying out of their home overnight or by refusing to complete the form (which carried the risk of a £5 fine or imprisonment.)

Women boycotted the 1911 census in a number of ways. Some refused to provide the information. Others spoiled the form by marking themselves as ‘head of the household’ or by writing on the form ‘No vote. No census’. Many women went into hiding or moved about all night so that they couldn’t be recorded.

Newspaper reports provide information about women’s actions that night. In London, Suffragettes held a picnic on Wimbledon Common with banners proclaiming, ‘If women don’t count, neither shall they be counted’. Similar tales unfolded across the UK.

No Vote No Census – Women And The 1911 UK Census Boycott

by Sheena Macleod

The year 1911 was a census year in the UK. For the first time ever, the ‘head of the family’, usually a man, was asked to provide the Government with women’s personal details.

This included their work details, how long the women had been married, their disabilities, and how many children they had (including how many had died). The ‘householder’ was required to provide these details for everyone who spent census night on their property.

Dundee Women and Kettle Bilers

by Wendy H. Jones

The city of Dundee, Scotland, is one forged by whaling, jam, jute, journalism, and strong women.

It’s time to celebrate Dundee Women, the stalwarts of the jute trade. Like many women of her generation my grandmother, Mary Lawson, was a weaver in the jute mills. Never one to shirk hard work, she was able to run three looms at once, no mean feat considering she was only five feet tall. She loved being a weaver and told everyone who would listen it was the best job in the world.

Day after day, six days a week, she laboured in the mills. This was not easy work but demanding. She did this in addition to raising six children.

The workforce of the Dundee jute mills was made up of 80% women, which left few jobs for the men.

As whaling became less important to the economy, the other main industry was ship building and work in the extensive dockyard. However, women still made up most of those of working age in Dundee and many men found themselves unemployed and stuck at home looking after the children – hence the name kettle bilers or kettle boilers to use English rather than the Dundee vernacular. These men were often looked down on.

However, it is not their story but that of the women we celebrate. The strong, independent, feisty Dundonian women who helped shape the city into what it is today. I am proud to be a descendant of one of them.

Let’s hear it for the women.

Website: and story videos, is at https://www.youtube.com/channel/ UCPCiePD4p_vWp4bz2d80SJA/

With magazine, http://chandlersfordtoday.co.uk/

I don’t know about you, but taking more than one child shopping counts as a double workout, I’m sure. The amount of calories one burns off on an expedition like that carries on well into the night, possibly even the following morning.

I remember pushing a shopping trolley around supermarkets with the littlest inside the trolley, the trickier ones made to hold on for dear life and the more responsible ones merely holding on. On no account should any of them lose touch with the trolley.

Once they grew a little older, shopping became more like one of those crazy games where you need to watch out for opponents, hold on to your playing pieces and score points at the same time. Suddenly, little hands could reach all kinds, none of them fitted in the child seat of the trolley and they could find their way around the shop. Not shopping on an empty stomach became more important than ever.

Going into town is an endurance session. Not only is our local town built on a hill, but my kids are also definitely fitter than I am. They also have their favourite shops and a lot of needs. Needing new shoes, needing new pens, needing a snack from their favourite shop and needing books or games. I just need more oxygen to be available in the air as I follow them uphill. And I need coffee, to calm down again and be clearer on our needs and wants. Maybe we need to get back to all of them walking within my reach. Or even better, maybe they’re nearly old enough to get that Saturday job, and they’ll soon see the difference between needing a book and simply having to have a new book.

Passersby were quick to comment, “You’ve got your hands full!” My daughter especially would look at me, wondering what I would say to that. My standard answer was, “Oh yes! But full of good things!” And it was true, but that didn’t mean they could let go of the trolley... I had various straps and handles attached to the pushchair as well, so they all had a little place they could hold on to, making it easier to cross roads without it counting as Extreme Sports.

Maressa Mortimer is Dutch but lives in the beautiful Cotswolds, England with her husband and four (adopted) children. Maressa is a homeschool mum as well as a pastor’s wife, so her writing has to be done in the evening when peace and quiet descend on the house once more. All of Maressa’s books are available from her website, www.vicarioushome.com, Amazon or local bookshops.

by Wendy H. Jones