30 Jan

800 years of life. What would you remember?

Friday Fictioneers is a large electric kool-aid acid trip bus full of bozos, babes, beach bums and bards, all driven by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on a joyride through different worlds created from a single photo prompt (this week’s is from Claire Fuller. She is both the photographer and the sculptor) using a loose maximum of 100 words.

To quote Rich Voza, “You should try this.”


Centuries of solitude ended with the cold bite of an axe blade. Felled and shaped and planed, I became the keel of a doomed whaling vessel named Essex. Hunters became the hunted and all perished. I floated in the sea’s embrace, washed ashore at a settlement called Yerba Buena and became an altar until a great earthquake tore the church asunder.

What remains of me rests in an artist’s studio.

Vibrations of chisel on stone remind me of woodpeckers, the hammer blows of the pounding sea, and the mutter of the artist, the prayers of the penitent.

Still, I remember.



essex nightmare


122 Responses to “Memories”

  1. rochellewisoff January 30, 2013 at 11:40 am #

    Dear Doug,
    Once more you amaze me with a brilliant avoidance of the pitfalls of writing from the point of view of an inanimate object. You gave a block of wood pathos and personality. Applause!
    I’m also trying to figure out if I’m a bozo, babe or bard. Hard to be a beach bum in Missouri. 😉
    Diatomaceously Yours,

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 11:43 am #

      Dear Rochelle,

      Babe and a Bard, for the record. Thanks for reading and commenting. It’s great to be back in the swing of things.



  2. Madison Woods January 30, 2013 at 11:48 am #

    Loved this, Doug. Every word rang of truth, even it was fiction.

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 11:58 am #

      Dear Madison,

      Thanks for the read and the fine comments. You are kind to take the time to say so.



  3. susielindau January 30, 2013 at 1:23 pm #

    Hey. I have a problem throwing out withering house plants! I imagine them screaming, “Nooooooooooooooo!”
    Very nice!

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:38 pm #

      Dear Susie,

      I hear you. Had to do that a month ago and felt terrible. Thank you for reading and commenting.



  4. TheOthers1 January 30, 2013 at 1:38 pm #

    Your tags. Lol. Nice job with this pov! You’re a pro storyteller with your ability to weave in a moral and make me thoughtful when I read. Well done, sir

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:39 pm #

      Dear CC,

      My tags are often overlooked, but not by you. Thanks. They are another way to tell the tale, another facet on the rock. Thanks for reading and commenting.



  5. claireful January 30, 2013 at 2:15 pm #

    A beautiful story which makes me feel guilty about carving stone and wood – perhaps I should just stick to words.

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:41 pm #

      Dear Claire,

      You are keeping the memories alive, through wood and stone and words. Keep being an artist. It is through art that the world learns what is important and how we should be taking care of the planet.

      Thanks for reading and commenting.



  6. Perry Block (@PerryBlock) January 30, 2013 at 2:57 pm #

    First of all, by process of elimination I must be a babe, so no wolf whistles please! Second, great piece illustrating the survival and continuity of art, antiquity, life, and humanity. Even a babe like me can appreciate it ….

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:43 pm #

      Dear Perry,

      Somewhere in your process of elimination you missed the mark. Think fiery red hair, bulbous nose, white face paint…. Oh, never mind…You’re a babe.

      Thanks for reading and commenting, sir.



  7. David Stewart January 30, 2013 at 3:24 pm #

    That’s a unique perspective to take, from the wood used as the workbench. I like to think of ancient things like that having a memory, remembering their storied past. Great story, as always.

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:44 pm #

      Dear David,

      That block of wood spoke volumes to me. Had to go there. Thanks for your kind comments.



  8. themisanthropicmuse January 30, 2013 at 4:40 pm #

    Very interesting piece. I think you made for a convincing object with sentience. Thanks for sharing 🙂

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:46 pm #

      Dear Muse,

      Thanks for dropping by to read and comment. All things carry within them their history and speak of their time on this planet. I was just trying to listen well.



  9. wmqcolby January 30, 2013 at 10:16 pm #

    Very resonant! I actually FELT that tree living!

    And I actually could see myself clinging for dear life on the bumper of that Electric Kool-Aid Acid Bus. Rochelle learned to drive it on Mister Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland.

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:49 pm #

      Dear Kent,

      Thank you for the kind comment.

      (I have it on good authority that Rochelle is the reason Mr. Toad retired.)



      • rochellewisoff January 30, 2013 at 11:25 pm #

        Just dropped in to let you know you’re both in dutch. Alohahaha.

  10. JKBradley January 30, 2013 at 10:45 pm #

    Call me Ishmael.

    • dmmacilroy January 30, 2013 at 10:50 pm #

      Dear Ishmael,

      I heard it through the grapevine that your story last week was one to look out for. Will be catching up (this week’s and last week’s) starting tomorrow night. Can’t wait to get to yours.



  11. kz January 30, 2013 at 11:22 pm #

    this is brilliant, Doug! ^^ Centuries of solitude ended with the cold bite of an axe blade….. damn, had me by the first line

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:05 am #

      Dear Kz,

      Thanks for stopping by and reading. Happy to have you on board.



  12. sustainabilitea January 31, 2013 at 2:06 am #

    It gets a bit repetitious telling you each week (except for last), how much I enjoyed your story, but… I loved the ongoing life stretching throughout history (and I love history). You didn’t misplace a word and they bore me along swiftly and easily.


    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:09 am #

      Dear Janet,

      Your comments sustain me. Thank you. You are always on my mind when I am writing.



  13. train-whistle January 31, 2013 at 4:06 am #

    your words simply take my breath away.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:14 am #

      Dear TW,

      Thanks for saying so. I’ll keep trying.



      • train-whistle February 3, 2013 at 2:44 pm #

        You make it look so very easy and your words are always packed with emotion and image. I look forward to your stories each week and have not been disappointed yet. You have a gift, and I feel blessed to have found your work. My goal is to work toward being the kind of writer you are. I don’t mean to sound gushy at all, and if I do, I apologize. I am just so taken with your words and the emotion they evoke.. –tw

      • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 3:17 pm #

        Dear TW,

        Just let it flow. You’re far closer than you realize. No gushes heard, just communication. Thanks, D.

  14. muZer January 31, 2013 at 6:24 am #

    Wow.. You saw in the photo the piece of wood which mostly everyone (me included) would overlook and then told a wonderful story. And there’s so much truth in it.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:29 am #

      Dear MuZer,

      Thanks for visiting and reading. You keep my tank full.



  15. valeriedavies January 31, 2013 at 7:31 am #

    I loved this. It was so poetic… as were your tags

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:15 am #

      Dear Valerie,

      Just trying to spin a tale you’d appreciate. Thanks for reading.



  16. Atiya W Townes (@AtiyaWTownes) January 31, 2013 at 7:44 am #

    What a take on matter, always changed but never created or destroyed. You gave the stone a life long lived and more colorful than some people’s. Beautifully done.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:16 am #

      Dear Atiya,

      Thanks for the kind comments.



  17. Sandra January 31, 2013 at 8:39 am #

    I hadn’t even noticed the block of wood. Kudos for observation and a fine piece of work. Good to have you back.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:18 am #

      Dear Sandra,

      I’m not buying it. You notice everything. Loved your story this week. Thanks for visiting.



      • Sandra February 3, 2013 at 10:27 am #

        The pleasure, as always, is mine. 😉

  18. Jan Brown January 31, 2013 at 12:43 pm #

    A unique interpretation of the prompt, as always, and a wonderful job writing from the POV of the artist’s block. Bravo!

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:19 am #

      Dear Jan,

      Thanks for visiting and commenting. I appreciate you noticing that I found a story in a block of wood.



  19. Tom Poet January 31, 2013 at 2:42 pm #

    In The Heart Of The Sea is one of my favorite books. Finding a way to incorporate a piece of a story I assume inspired you into a prompt of a sculpture is a talent that leaves one in awe. Excuse me while I go about the business of passing tabs around…

    • dmmacilroy January 31, 2013 at 8:59 pm #


      Thank you. (Save three for me.) Ever read Ahab’s wife by Sena Jeter Naslund? If you enjoyed Philbrick’s work you may find this story strangely compelling.

      Your story this week, Pure Light, was beautifully written.

      A Hui Hou,


      • Tom Poet February 3, 2013 at 5:08 pm #

        Thanks for the kind words…I will have to add that one to my list…

  20. Ken Arnopole January 31, 2013 at 5:07 pm #

    Aloha Doug,
    I love how you mastered the timing of this piece over the length of life of the piece of wood.
    I’m sure you know the answer to this, I don’t. How long will wood last if properly preserved?
    I also love your use of posted pictures with your story to bring us further into a story that you have created. This brings together your golden tongue, with your wonderful heart, your vision to create a visual story and add 50,000 more words without using more than 100.

    Sorry we missed each other on Sunday. Look forward to hearing from you soon.
    Do you play disc golf somewhere every month?
    Hope to go whale watching the next few days, on my boat Rainbow Star.
    Had six sightings Sunday, two total breaches, three flute flaps and a few splashy tales.
    Nothing like watching tail go down as it slowly merges to the depths of the sea I wish it were me, sometimes when I been scuba diving and been near them is as if you could speak without words. Marvelous animals, those whales.
    Aloha always look forward to reading your writing.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:23 am #

      Dear Ken,

      Wood will last a long time. On the order of several millenia, but i don’t have an exact number for you. Will be googling that later. Thanks for trying to find me this week. probably good you didn’t. The tournament was played entirely at the Hilo Coffee Mill and it was a slog. Wet feet abounded.
      Your whale tales sound like fun. Good luck with that.



  21. Parul January 31, 2013 at 6:15 pm #

    Good to see you back in action!
    I was expecting something as poetic as this from you. Nice and unique story of an inanimate object.
    On a lighter note, this sort of reminded me of a Simpsons episode where the rag tells its story.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:26 am #

      Dear Parul,

      You have me at a disadvantage. Can you believe I’ve never seen a single episode of The Simpsons? I appreciate your kind comments. You are one of the writers I keep in mind when I struggle to put together a story for the week as you have keen eyes and a different perspective on the world.



  22. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) January 31, 2013 at 9:03 pm #

    Wow, impressive to focus on the wonderful woodblock under the sculpture. Reminds me a little of HC Andersen’s story of the Christmas tree… I love the tale, and the poetic flow of words.

    Tack så mycket


    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:36 am #

      Dear Bjorn,

      Your comments fill me up with gratitude. Thank you for your observant eye.



  23. annisik51 January 31, 2013 at 9:40 pm #

    This is close to my heart as I think inanimate objects do contain memories. Every event leaves its mark. You might not know be able to know the story of the actual mark, but that there WAS an event. I have collections of objects collected from many places I’ve lived in. They find their way into my artwork.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:40 am #

      Dear Ann,

      I’m glad we think the same way. Thanks for being in tune with my story and commenting so kindly.



      • annisik51 February 3, 2013 at 11:51 am #

        You’re welcome and your work is deserving of notice.

  24. Beth Carter January 31, 2013 at 10:40 pm #

    Your prose makes me want to go back to being a whatever-I-was profession before writing full time… Oh, yeah. A marketer.

    • Beth Carter January 31, 2013 at 10:41 pm #

      Extremely well done, as always. Now, to go back and read your tags!

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:43 am #

      Dear Beth,

      First: Thank you.
      Second: Don’t you dare stop writing. (I know that you say that in jest, but I want you to know that you would not be here among all of us strivers were it not for the desire in your heart…the desire of an artist, a creator, a writer.)



  25. Hayley February 1, 2013 at 4:15 am #

    Gorgeous imagery!! And had to go back and read the tags after noticing the comments–love those, too! 🙂

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:46 am #

      Dear Hayley,

      Thanks for the kind comments. I try to add a little more to the story in my tags. Cheating. Same with the pictures. Rochelle will probably be speaking to me about this. (I will nod and dissemble and keep on keeping on.)



  26. unspywriter February 1, 2013 at 12:08 pm #

    As always an intriguing interpretation that both engages and instructs us, on several levels. And as always, a pleasure to read.

    Here’s mine:

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 10:48 am #

      Dear Maggie,

      Thanks for reading and commenting. You sure you have the right story? (kidding.)



  27. Charles Oyeleke Williams February 1, 2013 at 1:27 pm #

    Your pace was great with this and the memories kept are great. Mostly artifacts like this holds the wisdom of the past and the key to the future

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:01 am #

      Dear Charles,

      You possess wisdom beyond your years. Thank you for visiting and commenting.



  28. elappleby February 1, 2013 at 2:00 pm #

    I love this story – I bet no one else thought to write from the point of view of the artist’s bench. Impressive. I bet the bench’s story isn’t over yet either…

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:43 am #

      Dear El,

      Thanks for your comments. have to say that your story was stellar. I’m still laughing every time I think of it. i appreciate the support and can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with next week.



  29. Joe Owens February 1, 2013 at 3:06 pm #

    Doug you have pulled me in and made me want for the complete story. There is such a richness in your 100 words. I could imagine all the different lives of this piece of work and am excited to read this.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:45 am #

      Dear Joe,

      Thanks for such encouraging comments. 800 years is a lot of time and 100 words sometimes seems like not enough to pack it all in, but I tried.



  30. bridgesareforburning February 1, 2013 at 3:54 pm #

    Hi Doug,
    You envisioned some exotic reincarnations for that piece of wood. Very creative and well written. Ron

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:47 am #

      Dear Ron,

      Not reincarnations so much as a stream of consciouness full of memory. Thaks for reading and commenting. Loved your story, too.



  31. YJ February 1, 2013 at 4:53 pm #

    To follow the life of an object, makes me think “GO GREEN”. Very nice and environmentally friendly.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:48 am #

      Thanks YJ,

      I appreciate your visit and kind words.



  32. readinpleasure February 1, 2013 at 5:35 pm #

    Very well written, Doug. 🙂

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:49 am #

      Dear Celestine,

      Thank you very much.



  33. t February 1, 2013 at 5:47 pm #

    This was simply brilliant – I never even thought to notice the wood, let alone bring it to life so wonderfully!

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:50 am #

      Dear t,

      Thanks so much. Saw the block right away and was off and running.



  34. erinleary February 1, 2013 at 5:49 pm #

    Loved it – very nicely done, working in something that most would overlook. I saw where you were going and did a mental “high five” to you.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:51 am #

      Dear Erin,

      A high five from you has me chopping in tall cotton. Thanks very much.



  35. nightlake February 1, 2013 at 7:46 pm #

    this write-up has a poetic quality to it..really very moving..

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:52 am #

      Dear Nightlake,

      Thanks for saying so.



  36. newpillowbook February 1, 2013 at 8:00 pm #

    Wow – I love this. Telling the story from the viewpoint of the wood – very original, and very well written.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:53 am #

      Dear Sharon,

      Thanks for sharing your appreciation. Smiling here.



  37. rheath40 February 1, 2013 at 8:06 pm #

    You wow me sir. Thank you for the vivid story.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:54 am #

      Thanks for saying so. I’ll try to keep the streak alive.



  38. Shirley McCann February 2, 2013 at 12:54 am #

    Loved the viewpoint. And spooky that “it” still remembers. Very interesting indeed. Makes me wonder what COULD happen it the story were longer. REVENGE!!!

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 11:57 am #

      Dear Shirley,

      I think trees are somehow resigned to their fates. More observers than anything else, patient to a fault and understanding of their despoilers.

      Thanks for reading and commenting.



  39. sandraconner February 2, 2013 at 2:55 am #

    Doug, if the judging fell to me, I think I’d have to give you First Prize this week. Such a creative take on the prompt, focusing on the block of wood — and SUPERLATIVE writing!

    I had to chuckle at your intro about “bozos, babes, beach bums, and bards.” It reminded me immediately of the heroine in a novel I wrote several years ago. Her editor at the news magazine where she works says she gets the assignments that bring the big bucks because she has the nose of a pedigreed bloodhound, the body of a desirable woman, and the face of a poker player.

    I guess most of us, from time to time, have to be a little of all four personalities on your list if we want to write effectively.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:00 pm #

      Dear Sandra,

      Thank you for making my day, week and month with that fine comment. You sure know how to make a guy feel good. I live for input such as yours and do not take it for granted. You are right about the need for multiple personalities in writers. i wonder if any psychologists have ever done a study of that in writers?

      Thanks for visiting, reading and commenting. See you next week.



  40. writeondude February 2, 2013 at 8:47 am #

    Great stuff, Doug! Wonderfully original. I’d vote for you too, but with 80+ entries, not sure a poll is practical.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:02 pm #

      Dear Abiding one,

      Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m not looking for that prize, just the knkowledge that some readers enjoy the 100 words. Thanks for visiting.



  41. Esenga' s Voice February 2, 2013 at 10:55 am #

    Beautiful. I like the way you took it so much further…to “before” and also “after” in a way, not just “now”. The circle of…life.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:03 pm #

      Dear Esenga,

      Your are as kind as you are observant. Thank you.



  42. Sarah Ann February 2, 2013 at 1:55 pm #

    Oh Doug, this is great. Who’d have thought the life of a keel could be so interesting? Beautifully told.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:04 pm #

      Dear Sarah Ann,

      Thanks. Lather, rinse and repeat. Thanks.



  43. rgayer55 February 2, 2013 at 1:58 pm #

    Ah, the days of wooden ships and iron men. I’ve always felt that trees, rocks, etc., have a desired to be useful and appreciated–just like Bozo.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:08 pm #

      Dear Russell,

      And a time when a squirrel could travel from the east coast to the Mississippi wothout ever touching the ground. The world has changed…

      Thanks for visiting and reading.



  44. denmother February 2, 2013 at 1:59 pm #

    Incredibly powerful and so imaginative. I see I have work to do!

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:09 pm #

      Dear Denmother,

      You’re there already. Thanks for visiting and i’ll see you next week.



  45. lingeringvisions February 2, 2013 at 6:47 pm #

    Oh, like an artifact from the sea. Very cool take on the prompt.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:09 pm #

      Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate the input.



  46. H.L. Pauff (@HLPauff) February 2, 2013 at 6:48 pm #

    Wonderful. If only objects could talk

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:10 pm #

      Dear H.L.,

      I hear what you’re saying…i think they do.

      Thanks for visiting and commenting.



  47. elmowrites February 2, 2013 at 7:10 pm #

    When I read your intro, I thought all the fictioneers would be distracted by trying to identify oursevles on your bus analogy, but the story brings me back entirely. Wow, an epic story and a well-crafted POV. It’s good to have you back, Doug, and not just for your kinds words on mine.

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:15 pm #

      Dear Jen,

      Your comments are like rain in the desert to me. Thank you. Bard and Babe, in case you were wondering. Thanks for visiting and adding fuel to my tank and ink to my inkwell.



  48. k~ February 2, 2013 at 9:51 pm #

    I love to see the perspective come from the sculpture. Romantic, melancholy, and visceral, I enjoyed your brush of ink on this page.


    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:17 pm #


      Thanks for putting your ink on this page. I appreciate the input.



  49. Sunshine February 3, 2013 at 2:49 am #

    simply a beautiful story. ❤
    ~part of a tree remembers…so creative… 🙂

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:18 pm #

      Dear Sunshine,

      Thanks for visiting and commenting. i appreciate it very much.



      • Sunshine February 3, 2013 at 4:44 pm #

        It was a lovely visit… Happy week to you. 🙂

  50. Nick Johns (@nickjohns999) February 3, 2013 at 9:01 am #

    Good stuff Doug! An easy, wistful feel to the piece, in a very interesting take on the prompt

    • dmmacilroy February 3, 2013 at 12:19 pm #

      Dear Nick,

      Thanks for noticing the voice of the oak. See you next week?



  51. The Bumble Files February 3, 2013 at 8:16 pm #

    Dear Doug,
    You gave the sculpture a vibrant voice and rich history. This is beautiful writing. You never disappoint. I loved your intro, too. I’m suspect I’m a beach bum, at least at heart, even though currently I’m miles away from the sea.

  52. vbholmes February 3, 2013 at 8:26 pm #

    Very sensitive interpretation of the prompt, Doug. You managed to write a fine, well-told saga in 100 words–no mean feat. Congratulations!

  53. tedstrutz February 3, 2013 at 9:51 pm #

    Damn this is good, Doug. Best take on the prompt yet, full of History. Yerba Buena… really? I have a book on the Essex, which I have never read… going to dig it up now. Your intros are almost as good as your stories…

  54. yaralwrites February 3, 2013 at 11:36 pm #

    Amazing to read and I liked that the stone told the story.
    I am number 91

    • dmmacilroy February 4, 2013 at 2:06 am #

      Dear Yaral,

      Welcome back. I don’t want to burst your bubble but the POV in my story was from that of the block of wood beneath the sculpture. Perhaps I’d better be more clear next time. Thanks for reading and trying to get my drift. 91 stories? Wow. I’ll check yours out after I arrive at the summit tonight.



  55. Joyce February 4, 2013 at 6:27 pm #

    This is beautiful, Doug. You made a piece of wood come to life in ways no one would imagine except for the ones who turned it into a vehicle of transporting and purpose, then an object of divine intervention, and finally a piece of art to be preserved and enjoyed.

  56. Linda Parkinson-Hardman February 5, 2013 at 11:50 am #

    That was incredible Doug, rich and vibrant just like the visions you created in my head. I loved it. 🙂

  57. mari wells February 5, 2013 at 4:44 pm #


  58. rich February 6, 2013 at 3:13 am #

    that’s probably two centuries of life for such an object, given life, thanks to you. well done.

    • dmmacilroy February 6, 2013 at 3:51 am #

      Dear Rich,

      It’s the old question—tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to hear it—did it have a life? There is so much we never see. Happy to be writing in this world with you. Thanks for reading and commenting.



      • rich February 6, 2013 at 3:53 am #

        thanks for writing what is worth commenting on. i’m just starting tonight after a weekend neglecting all of these entries. catching up now. i should have learned from the previous week when i tackled about 25 each day and made it easier.

      • dmmacilroy February 6, 2013 at 4:06 am #

        Boy, do I agree with you on that. I save the works of the better writers (you and a few) as a reward for reading the rest. 25 a day sounds about right. Hang in there. D.

  59. neenslewy February 10, 2013 at 11:53 am #

    A living sculpture, like how you got inside the soul of the art, a good write.

  60. Lauraine June 5, 2013 at 6:08 am #

    More please…… 🙂

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