A quiet little world

Last week I was very excited because I had gotten some wonderful feedback on my Shock Totem challenge piece.  Unless I get all of the rest of the votes, it is very unlikely that I will win.  For me winning was not the point.  It was the exploration of a prompt and how far I could go with it.  In this case, I feel that I can go quite far.

But first, I have to decide how this story is going to go.  I want to keep with the feel of the short, but I know that will be a push to keep that intensity.  I have danced on the edge of purple prose, almost drowning my story in rich description.  It fits the short but I do not know if it will fit the longer piece.

Its a piece about coming home, about an unlikely soldier in a war that can not be won out-right.  Its a story of small battles and how in the scheme of things, those small victories make a bigger difference than larger ones.  It’s a big story in a small setting.  A glimpse into a world familiar to our own yet vastly different.

I will be working steadily towards this project.  Outlining it first then writing.  Then edits and asking others to read it.

One hour chalenges

On the Lighthouse Refuge we started a one hour challenge.  I think we are going to try for one day a week, on the honor system as it is difficult to get everyone together at one time for posts.

Mondays are a bit of a challenge for me to get much extra writing in.  I usually work a 9 hour day so that everything that needs to be done is.  I have proofing, typesetting, ads to build, copy to capture, formatting copy, photos to process and dummying the paper.  Its a frantic process to get the core of work done for the next day.  If you have ever worked for a newspaper, you know what I mean.  I am thankful we are a weekly, I would die if we were a daily.

So Monday we quickly decided to do a one hour challenge.  As many words as you could in 60 minutes.  The prompt was “Plague” and I had three false starts before I found something to work with.

This is a short piece, less than 500 words, and written in about 30 minutes.

The noise, the constant roar of cars on the street outside the house, the honks, squeals, the revving engines had become too much. He had always always lived in the town, but the town had grown. His once quiet street was now a major thoroughfare to the business offices, shopping centers and bars. When he was younger people had moved out to go live in the city. Now they were moving back in.

He owned the little house on the corner of Fifth and Jackson. He had bought it after he met and married his wife. He had raised his children in the three bedroom cottage. They had a good life and he had photos proudly displayed everywhere. It had been quiet then.

Not long after his children had moved out the town began to change. He had retired, his wife had gotten ill, and he had not paid much attention to what was going on outside his doors. His wife had passed from life a few months ago, leaving him alone, alone with the cars that passed incessantly outside, rattling his precious memories hung on the walls. He was alone the walls only dimming the noise outside. Alone straining to hear one moment of peace in his life.

He found peace in a little cottage out in the country. His house sold quickly for a better price than he expected. His children came home to help him pack, happy with his decision to move into a smaller home. The little house stood next to shady trees where the grandchildren could run and play, not like the old house where they had to stay inside for fear of the traffic. His sons moved furniture, boxes, bedsprings and such until the tiny little house was full of things. He hung up the photos after they left, smiling.

Sitting in the chair, sipping a beer, savoring his peace and quiet at last, crickets began to chirp.

Why oh why?

I am the weird one in my family.  I’m not the rebel, well not really.  Nor am I the wild child, though at times I would like to be.  Instead, I’m the individual who just not except the status quo.  I do not follow the religious views I had been taught, nor do I accept the narrow minded views of the small town that I live in. I’m the person that kind of sits quietly in the corner, speaks when spoken to, and observes and catalogs everything.

What it means is I keep my head down and I stay quiet in groups around here.  People here just don’t like someone questioning their views of what is and always has been.

So what has led to this post today is my ShockTotem entry for this month.  As I said in my last post, the subject was Carnival and well, my writing took on one of those turns that only my mind takes once in a while.

Its kind of clear I don’t follow the status quo, so why should my writing?  It is part of the reason I write fantasy, its okay to let your mind run wild with odd turns and twists.  But this one is a bit closer to home than many of the subjects.

It is kind of clear now that I will be expanding on this story sometime in the future.  I wrote down the basic premise last night, and I think I’ll keep doing that until I know what I am going to write.  And heck, its probably been done so many times before it’s cliche, but I don’t really care.

So what is the idea of the story.  It’s a twist on the basic Christian religion but in a way that leaves the teachings intact.  It has to do with demons, murder and power over others.  Its a psychological fantasy horror that I don’t feel up to touching just yet.  I will write out the ideas, the poor sheep that humans are, the vampires that feed on their lives, and the chosen few who struggle to keep humanity going until they can finally break free.

This is not going to be a long story, well, I hope not.  We shall see.  I was not expecting to open up another door to a world like this.  Its a bleakness a darkness and rambling existence that leads only to death with only a few spots of life.  It holds little love, only toil until death.

I was not expecting this, with my plate already full of stories.  But I am tucking this one away, because its fragile, newly hatched, and will one day soar.

Writing in the dark

It had been humming in the back of my mind for most of the day.  Just a bit of background noise like the buzzing of a beehive hidden in the trees that separated my yard from the fields of clover. An image here, a whisper of sound, a faint sweet scent, none of it making much sense until I turned out the light and let myself relax.

It happens this way, you have some idea that floats in your head for a few days, then suddenly you feel the pangs of labor and your ideas have now pulled themselves together concreting a scene, a plot, an image in your head.

I was tired, the boys were settled down to sleep, and I had just turned out the lights.  Snuggled down with layers of winter blankets and cradling my pillow I started to relax thinking about my day.  I had started well with 1,497 words on Dragon Masque and had spoken a bit with my mom on some philosophical issues.  Then my mind wandered to what I would next.  It’s a process I go through every night.  It only takes a few minutes but even ten will give me an idea of how the next scene will go.

Dragon Masque was progressing nicely, but I poked at an image that had been tickling the back of my mind.  For Shock Totem, we are doing a monthly short which will be voted on by the members of the forum.  We have 1 week in which to write our story and submit it.  This month the prompt is  carnival.   I have until Saturday to write my story but I had no idea what to write.

At least until I went through my nightly ritual of mentally toying with my writing.  Usually this consists of going over what I wrote and seeing where I want it to go the next day. It does not take long, but it allows me to wind my mind down so I can sleep.  Some days my head is so caught up with the stories and characters that I have to have a bit of time to come back to the real world.

I had plenty of time to think about Dragon Masque so I turned my thoughts to this challenge for Shock Totem.  I suddenly had one phrase, then another and another crowding my head like eager children at an ice cream truck.  They each wanted attention and wanted it NOW!  lol  I had already turned off the lights in my room, but I always have a notebook by my bed, waiting for those bright sudden impulses that come with dreams and random thoughts.  I had only the faint light from the kitchen to see by, but I filled a hurried page of slanted red ink.

Today I am looking at the half formed paragraphs, the imagery that was so bright and solid before I set the notebook aside and cuddled back with my pillows and blankets.  As I drifted to sleep thinking of warm arms around me, I still heard the faint echoes of laughter and the sirens.

Fortune’s sun, shadows linger

Yesterday was one of those days where something in the universe just aligned just right and what flowed out was magic or at least a prelude to magic.  I have more roughs,  ideas that just need some tweaking, some stewing, and some pounding in order to achieve something great.  It started with my blog, a short piece that just kind of popped out.  It is not perfect in any way, shape or form, but it is an idea.  Something to keep in mind for later.

Then came a challenge on Ligthouse Refuge, one of the writing forums I participate in.  It was supposed to be just a short description of a bridge.  Supposed to be, that is the key words here. It ended up being a much longer piece than I intended at just over 600 words.  It is one of those pieces that after writing it, you have left a chunk of your own flesh still in it.  You are still bleeding, lightly and it will take a few hours to seal the wound.   I like the piece, of course there is more to it but I will find it later.

Then there is a matter of a duel piece that I worked on at the Fifthwind forums a while back.  It was a duel between me and FW and the subject was ice cream.  I have written more on it and have been bouncing the idea of a much longer work.  I have some research to do about the 40s and 50s eras in the US to see where the story would have a bigger impact.  This would be my first attempt at a YA story.  *shrugs*  but it feels right.

I spent the evening bouncing between the hilarity of  ColleenLindsay on twitter and his #thingsishouldnotseeinaquery list, IM with my friends and some serious writing time on Dragon Masque.  In less than 30 minutes I had over 500 words on the page and before 9 p.m. I had just over 1,000.  In the mean time I looked at some recipes for candied ginger, a bit of research on some minor things, and talking with my love. (   love you BABY!)

The words just flowed from me yesterday, I am not sure where they came from but they hit me over the head and carried me downstream more swiftly than I would have thought.  It took a long time to get to sleep, that writing high felt just as good as a runner’s high (yes I have experienced that, unfortunately my knees cannot handle that abuse any more). More stories turned over in my head, even with trying to read Mystic River I have read about four chapters in it and I was hooked after the first page.  Dennis Lehane dances a bit on the purple prose but he does it with purpose.  I will enjoy the book much more than the movie.

But no matter how fortune smiles on your day, shadows always linger.  I interviewed for a job last week and received a letter today that I did not get the job.  *shrugs*  a couple of tears, a well placed handkerchief, and I go on.  Not getting this job is not the end of the world, however it is a big disappointment.  I guess I shall just shoot for something else.  My writing for instance, I always have that.

sorrow

Rain, rain, rain.  It drips from the skies as angles weep over the wrongs of the world. Innocence stolen by those who reap it in sheafs  and pile it upon wagons heading to  markets where merchants bid on the broken husks.  The touch of death hangs a collar on them all, from the babe in arms to the granther taking his last breath, stealing what life, what love, what hope they have left.  They serve out their sentence of pitiful life tolling through dark streets, backs saddled with heavy weights of doubt and worry.  Within years the lucky ones were only hunch backed, while those who were cursed with the fingers of the gods of spite became twisted loathsome creatures that no one recognized.

The rain came down harder while those in the streets tucked their heads down lower, slogging through the ever present muck.  Some slipped in the mire, covering themselves with  sewage.  Some struggled to rise, to take their burdens further, while others sank defeated into the sludge.  The horde behind them pressed tired feet into the backs of the fallen, pressing them deeper until nothing remained.

Weekly Newspaper column

We had quite a cold week last week, and of course, the other columns mentioned it but I thought I’d try a bit of humor.

With the wicked weather dissipating and normal temperatures restored, we can look upon our ordeal of the bitter cold with a bit of  fondness.  It was cold, much more than usual, surprising many of us.  We have gotten used to mild winters,  in fact down right spoiled if I do say so.  With the cold outside and relative warmth inside, going out unnecessarily was not an option. Most people stayed indoors, but a few of us had to brave the roads. Driving in the weather we have had for the past week can be quite interesting, but just getting out to the car can be an adventure in itself.

It all starts with looking outside and checking the temps to see if heading to the store or errands are even worth it. Anything below the teens requires every inch of skin being covered especially with the wind blowing.  You grab the coat, gloves, hat and boots and spend about fifteen minutes getting dressed enough to just go out the door.

Then you step outside, into the snow, very cold, wet and unpleasant. You step back inside to grab the shovel, and proceed to dig your way off of the doorstep to the vehicle in question.  Depending on the type of snow this can be either a quick job or a very long labor intensive job.  If you have young people in your household, I suggest bribes of cash to do this unpleasant business.

Some of us are lucky enough to have a carport or garage to park our car under, otherwise it takes about ten minutes to find the door handle under that snow.  During this search you cross your toes, because your fingers are too cold, that the doors are not frozen shut, which is another adventure all together.

Once the door handle is found and you can open the door, you can squeeze yourself into the car, perhaps  you can if you do not have too many layers on.  You fumble with the keys, as the gloves are a bit clumsy to deal with.  Carefully you turn the key, hoping that your car is not as cold natured as the neighbor’s, who is currently only receiving a very strangled wrrrr, wwwrrrr,  wrrrr. The lights come on, a bit of a sputter, and thankfully, it starts.

Not complete

Time seems to weigh more heavily as hours drag into days.  A simple glance at the clock proves only five minutes have passed, although it feels as if a year has slipped by.  I cannot help but fidget, my thoughts racing in my mind, pounding out my normal desires.  Nervously I twist my hair around my fingers and chew lightly on the ends.

Disgusted with myself, I walk away, distracting myself within the pages of a book.  It is no use, my thoughts drift back to you, my love, my darling.  A soft smile lifts the frown that had settled on my face.  Your voice tickles my memories and I know my eyes sparkle with merriment.  I brush the locks from my eyes, remembering the way your gentle hands caressed my face.

I sigh happily no longer fighting the trail of my own thoughts.  It no longer frightens me to think that without you, I am not complete.

It’s been an interesting week.

The weather here has been absolutely horrid. We have had a total of about six inches of snow.  In the past few years we have not had much of the white stuff, nor has it lasted long.  This year, or at least this storm, it has lasted all week.  We have had below normal temperatues, well below zero three nights with wind chills in the -10 to -20’s.  I spoke to a lady in Bufalo New York and our temps. were lower than hers.  *twitch*  The weather will be warming up soon, thankfully.  Temps. to be in the 30’s tomorrow and 40’s by middle of the week.

On the writing stage, I have not gotten much done on Dragon Masque, instead I had tried to focus on  a writing duel for the Fifthwind Forum.  It was a simple subject, “An Incidental Accident-A not so serious magical accident”, but I had a lot of difficulty getting my head around the subject.  I tend to write with the focus on pivotal points in the character’s life.  Most of my writing is kind of heavy and I really get into the character’s head and state of mind.  I have very little humor and do not exhibit much of a “normal” state of life. This was my problem for the duel.  I was thinking of heavy subjects and they would just not fit well into the 750 limit on the word count.

I also have a tendency stuff as much background and additional information into a piece as possible, leaving little room for the actual plot and story.  This is okay for a 2,000-4,000 piece work, but for less than 1,000 it is unnecessary and not functional.  I could just not get a story going without needing all of the background and fill in.

Thursday evening I spoke with one of my good friends.  She reads a lot of my shorts but admitted that she was not a big fan of my style.  It was just too dark for her but she does read them anyway.  Ryssie pointed out that I needed to look at this project as a snapshot, a brief glimpse into a character’s life.  I needed to see the tree not the forest!

I have to admit she was right.  Once I threw off the idea tha there had to be a huge backstory and purpose for the story, it flowed.  I wrote it, proofed and posted it within about 2 hours.  I did not use up the 750 words possible.  It is just under 545 words.

Now if we can get some good critiques and votes Silv and I will see who the better writer is on this. 

If  you would like to leave a critique or view the duels I would appreciate it.  And look in on Kuro’s and Havoc’s duel while you are at it.

Duels

Thanks for reading and comments are always appreciated!

Snapshot

Over at the Fifthwind Forum we have a very interesting section called the duel section.  This is where we write on subjects that we would not normally write about.  There is a few different sub sections to it.  One contains a list of subjects and you can ad your piece when ever you like.  A second contains photos so that you have a visual setting or character for your story.  The most challenging is the closed duel, where you challenge one of our other writers to a one on one match of grammatical precision.

I have participated in all three several times.  I like to use the first two often during the month as I think of new ideas.  Some have developed into longer stories of their own.  It is nice to read other interpretations of the same theme.

It is definitely a challenge to participate in a closed duel.  A non participating member of the duel will think of a subject, a word limit and the due date of the piece.  Your challenge is to wrap your head around it and pull out a story.  Some times it takes me a few days to get a duel going, but the one I am participating in now has had me flustered.

The Topic, An Incidental Accident-There’s been a not so serious magical accident!, with a word count of 750 is due tomorrow, and I have hit the proverbial brick wall.

I often do some brainstorming for a closed duel, taking some paper and pencil and just doing some words on the page.  One thing leads to another then the poof I have my story.  I write it and then set it aside for a few a day then proof it to the best of my ability.  If I have a few days then I can go back over them at leisure to make it a good story to the best of my ability.

But this one had me stumped.  The subjects I had come up with were completely unrelated and absolutely could not be done in such a limited word count.  The more I thought about it the less I was able to come up with.  I was in quite a fussy mood last night.

So I talked to one of my best friends.  She has read my writing, even though it is not quite to her taste.  I tend to write darker stories while she likes lighter stories with a bit of humor.  A lot of mine center on pivotal events of the character and lots of character development.  Nothing I was coming up with would fit into a mere 750 words.

She is right.  In this I am seeing the forest, not the tree and in this story I need to see the tree, just one of them.  I could never try my hand at young adult books or children’s writing because I have a difficult time with simple.  Poor children would probably not know what to think if I did write something vaguely in that direction!

Simplicity, that is what I am striving for today. A snapshot, candid, brief of someone’s life.  Something incidental, small, unnoticeable to most.

Thanks Ryssie