W.I.P. National Novel Writing Month 2019

Well.

Back to the month of something in the air that drive us all to write over 50,000 words.

Here's a snippet of what I'm working on, how about you?

“Take those two away.”

The voice of the Erlkonig startled her. She turned. Watched as the Guard escorted the two offenders of magic away. She couldn’t call them parents at all – they hadn’t raised her. They hadn’t been there her entire life until they wanted something from her. Of her.

They tried to put up a fight. Without magic, they were nothing.

That could have been me.

The thought haunted her.

If she had been raised by these two, she would have wound up on the other side of the coin. Between light and dark she was already walking along the grey line. She knew going to the dark side wasn’t an option. Yet, there were also repercussions for going too far into the light.

Her parents had gone to both extremes.

When the sounds of protest from them faded, she was left among a crowd. While they were all friends, it was still too much.

The power the book had blasted had drawn out everyone within the town boundaries.

“Miss Smok?”

Her name cleared some of the daze in her eyes. Her mind was still foggy. There was a haze that was trying to clear.

Shaking away the cobwebs she saw the forest.

Across the field she watched someone emerge from the shadows of the trees. They stumbled slightly, as though the legs were unfamiliar on land or with the land. They stumbled a while before straightening and looking up. At her.

What are you up to this month? Leave a comment below.



EDIT: I posted this on Monday.....do I get points for being early?

W.I.P. Umm.....

Here is a little excerpt from something I've been working on. At one point I added two potential ways of phrasing things. Let me know which one you think fits bet.

The morning after the concert and double homicide I woke up to someone trying to toss me on the floor. I’d fallen asleep in a rather large beanbag chair that felt more like a cushion than anything. After the other gals had drunk their fill of rum (Lizzy prevented me from getting any, at least remembering through her alcohol-induced haze that I didn’t drink), I had crashed from mental exhaustion. The bean bag was perfect – I melted into it and bundled down.

“Where’s Ann?”

I’d covered my face with another blanket, not wanting to deal with people in general. The choice to hide was gone the moment I was lifted into the air.

“Don’t toss me!”

The bean bag came down and I was left facing a bewildered Erik and Inspector.

“What were you doing there?”

I was half way awake, a bit wider now that I’d almost been launched into a couch and in no mood for stupid.

“I was sleeping. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Wait…are those your pajamas?”

I paused, glancing briefly down at my long pajama pants and baggy tee shirt. Looking back up I raised half an eye brow, “Yeah. You got a problem with my comfort?”

“No! No, no, it’s just…”

“Ann we need you to come with us to the Basement. It’s not safe for you.”

I stared down again…. “Yeah. You do realize you just barged into a room full of women who were having a slumber party (sleep over?)?”

They had the decency to blush.

I ushered them out.

“Right, well I’ll be out when all of us are decent and dressed. Bye!”

Shutting the door in their face I glanced around the previously full room.

“Traitors,” I murmured. Scrounging my clothes from the piles on the floor I slipped into the bathroom and got ready.

What are you working on this week? Need any help - I'd be glad to!

WIP: The Alley

A little something I've been working on. Accents are not my forte in writing yet - I'm still working at them.

‘We have to find him – quickly.’

Confused, I looked around, ‘Find who?’

I turned around, but I couldn’t see who I was with, if I was with anyone at all. Whoever was there didn’t respond again. I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone took my hand. I was led through a wooded area and into a small village. The set distracted me enough from my escort. It wasn’t large enough for an actual town, and calling it a village almost seemed almost too kind. There were a bunch of little cottages built really close together, a few larger houses in the middle of the square. He pulled me forward again and all I could see was the back of a black cloak. He led me through the back streets, avoiding all the main roads that passed through. Each time he heard someone coming down the street he became ancy, almost nervous. When another person turned down our alley, he quickly pulled me close, bringing his large cloak up to surround us – making us blend in with the shadows around us. I continued to follow him, keeping one hand on my large skirt to keep myself from tripping on the hem.

‘Wait here.’

I paused. He left me standing in a darker alley, cut off from the rest of way. I watched him, curious, as he climbed up onto the roof of the house to my right. A moment later he disappeared over the other side. I shrank back into the shadows, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. I found small comfort there with the darkness closing in on me.

‘Miss, can ye ‘elp me?’

I nearly cried out in alarm, jumping. Spinning in a full circle I found a small boy standing in the doorway across from me. He shrank back, quivering. I could barely see him – his skin was dark; almost exactly like Brian’s.

‘Wh-what is it?’

I shook, wondering where on earth Erik was.

‘I – I’m lost – an’, scared.’

I bit my lower lip. I wasn’t sure what I should do. Erik had told me to wait there for him until he came back from wherever it was he went. Waiting intoned the notion of not moving from the position where one was left. I couldn’t risk going off, but I couldn’t just leave the child there. That was irresponsible.

‘Where are your parents?’

His eyes grew dark, he almost started crying, ‘I don’ ‘ave  any.’

I felt my heart wrench from the tone in his voice. He was all alone in this world – defenseless.

I bit my lip again, mulling it over before making a decision, 

‘Alright, come with me. I’ll take you somewhere safe.’

I moved out of the shadows and stepped close to him, reaching out. He was timid, shy. At first he moved away, then slowly reached out and took my offered hand. The instant we touched a chain leapt from the dark and wrapped itself around my wrist, snaking its way around the boy’s, linking us together. A splint of shock ran through me as I heard dark, almost maniacal laughter coming from out of the darkness to my right.

How about you? What are you working on this week?

WIP - A little writing

Right.

Christmas brain. That's why this is a day late.


In the past few weeks I've been working a few different things. Mostly an original little piece based around the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice.

I used a few characters of my own, and incorporated music into it. (Hmmm....I might post links to the actual songs as we go along.....or not.)

So - here you have it. It's a little Greek Mythology, a little Broadway, and a lot of me.

(Note: Not a self-insert.)


The Story Draft One:

10 Years.

That was a large number to think about. She'd been in the ghost realm that long - her body in a coma, more death like than sleeping. The Hat-Box Ghost had left her there, with a darkness deeper than him. Through the years they has successfully broken her memory - erasing all those she once knew and loved.

Erin moved out of the spotlight position of his company. Losing her had been unacceptable. He spent 10 years trying to find a way to bring her back. Some of the dwarves had made her a glass casket; holes near the bottom and sides to keep out the elements. Part of this curse was that she wouldn't age while asleep. For her time had all but  ceased moving. He would visit her every week. The place on the mountain offered a stunning view of the land still untouched by the hands of industry.

"Erin, this idea is mad." The voice behind him was one of reason, one of her older, well younger brothers. "Even if you succeed, what's to say she'll be the same?"

He had a plan now. He knew how to save her. The answer had been staring him in the face. It was as much of history as He, but it had worked. It would work again.

"Jack's right, Erin, don't think -"

"I have thought, I've been thinking of nothing else for the past ten years," his own voice, mangled. "It's the only thing I haven't tried yet. It has to work!"

Erin straightened. Placing the flowers on the top of the glass he watched her. If you paid close attention you could see her slight intake of breath every few minutes. If you weren't looking for it you'd miss the sign of life altogether.

"Think of the risks man."

"Jack, I appreciate the concern, but this is my fault. I'm going to do it."

He stepped around the two. After the years of research he'd done, all the planning, everything was set. If Orpheus could do it to save Eurydice, surely he could do it to save Mira.

"Do you know what you're going to sing to lure her back," provided this half-brained dream works, the third man thought, yet didn't say.

Erin glanced back at the century (well older) old musician. They were on the campus now.

"Yes, Erik. I have a playlist all set," he strode into the apartment complex. As per usual the elevator was on the rocks again. "I put it together last week."

On the eighth floor he went down to the last door on the left. He could have afforded a nice house in any part of the world: instead he'd contended himself to this old building. It was close to where she was. He could have stayed at her house out in the woods, but it felt hollow.

"Right, so we're doing this. What can I do to help?"

Erik shook his head, "I've got everything I need. Just keep an eye on the entrance while I'm down there."

A few weeks ago one of the archaeology students had uncovered, well discovered by sheer accident a tunnel in the mountain. A spirit had emerged with it, claiming it was a portal to the ghost realm. After cooler heads had come and a few Demigods confirmed, it was confirmed as a route down to where the spirits were kept. The idea to go down and bring her back had slowly stemmed from that. He would do whatever it takes.

A half hour later he came to the cave entrance. Only Jack had come with him. No one else believed it would work. It was odd to think of this youth as an adult now. Ten years had gentled aged him well.

As they approached the Gate Keeper slowly looked up. It was a dark cloth over the frame of a corpse. There was no smell to it, no scent. It was a thing that always stood, patiently waiting for someone to come and pass through.

"What is your purpose?"

"I'm here to bring back the soul of Mira Penumbra."

For a moment the ravaged visage seemed to grin. Then it stepped back, waving its arm  toward the opening of the cave in a showmen's gesture. From the depth a set of stone steps appeared. There was only one direction to go: down.

"You know the rules Jason of the Argonauts. Break them and she is lost for eternity."

"I understand."

Erik took a breath and stepped inside.

He'd read, studied, been told the tale, yet finally going down seemed surreal. There was no echo of his step on the stores, no lingering echo to fade into the encroaching black. The light was dim, coming from sources he could not place. As he made his way down and further down still he began to see the signs of a vast dwelling. He knew that was where her soul, her spirit would be. Leveling out on the ground he looked behind him - there was no trace of the entrance. High above him the world lay, full of light. He was in the pit of night.

"What is your purpose here, mortal?"

Turning back to the path leading to the underground castle he saw a guard.

"I've come to free the soul of Mira Penumbra."

He didn't know if he imagined it, but the guard seemed to grin.

"Right this way."

Through a door of black granite was an outdoor throne room. Upon a throne of pure obsidian sat a figure framed in shadows. Erin couldn't make out any details about the form. Around him in the courtyard were the souls of those who had dearly departed their mortal coil. These spirits were grey, hazy as though they might vanish forever. When he looked near a broken and barren willow tree he saw a spirit that appeared brighter than the rest. He knew it was her.

"What is your purpose here, demigod?"

He faced the throne, stepping before it.

"I am Jason, leader of the Argonauts. I have come here to return the soul and spirit of Mira Penumbra, who is not fully deceased. I am here to bring her back."

The mass of shadows moved, swirling and slithering like snakes.

"Come forward."

Erin watched as a spirit, brighter than the others, stepped up next to the throne. He withheld a gasp as he recognized her. She hadn't aged a day in ten years, still wearing the dress she'd been in. Everything about her was the same, except the gleam in her eye was gone. Instead she appeared lost.

"You know the rules Argonaut: you will walk forward, she will follow. If you look back once, she remains here. Forever." There was a grin in the shadows voice, "You are free to persuade her however you choose."





Tune in next week - when I'll finally be back on track!

A New Year

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

This year has had a rocky start off (personally). Though it has greatly improved today.

2017

It should be an excellent new year. There are plenty of opportunities for improvement, change, travel, and learning new things. I am ready for the things ahead of me.

A few things that I've planned for myself - call them a Resolution if you must - I will call them a plan:

1) Finish a complete rough draft of my novel

     This has been a project between myself and another person - whom I'm co-writing it with.

2) Travel

      I know this is what everyone has on their bucket list, but I intend to do more of. There are a few places that I want to go - and I have high intentions of getting a passport soon.

3) Finish some art projects

      There are a few that I have on the line. Some that are taking time to get through, but I feel that this could be a great year for finishing things.

4) Read at least 25 books

      Last year I had a challenge set on goodreads.com for 15. I knocked it out of the park with 28. I think 25 this year is a reasonable goal.

What are some of your projects, or resolutions for this year?

Are you ready to knock 2017 out of the park?

Happy Post Halloween!

Or Happy All Saints Day!

And for those of you who are writers - Happy NaNoWriMo!

There are a few topics I could potentially cover in this weeks exciting addition to Fickle 'N Freelance Forever. After some debate (mostly with myself), I've decided to focus on writing.

At one point in your life you have sat down and written a short story. At one point, you have attempted to write a book. And at one point we all try our hand at novel writing. It's a fun exercise in using your imagination, using an idea from a random source, and a chance to finally use all of those SAT words we were all forced to memorize (or remember until the test, forget, then come back to years later).

First things first: What is NaNoWriMo?

    Na (National) No (Novel) Wri (Writing) Mo (Month)

Basically you write 50,000 words - which is the equivalent of writing a novel.

You can go over this number count, but it is the basic goal hundreds of thousands of people strive to meet each November.

NaNoWriMo - the link here will take you to the main page of the event. From here you can read more about the challenge, sign up and track your progress, read pep talks from actual published authors (James Patterson did a pep talk one year), and find a group close to you and meet with fellow writers.

There are always events going on in whichever region you sign up with. Each year there are at least four "Write-In's" round about where I live.

A "Write-In" is where a bunch of writers congregate in a specified location (sometimes Ikea), and sit in a large space (the cafeteria) and write for a few hours.

Writing with others is beneficial, as you can interact, bounce ideas off others, and help them with blocks or other writing things.

Not only is WriMo an excellent opportunity to meet fellow writers, but it's a way to set new boundaries for yourself. Try it - see what sort of stretchniess occurs when you attempt, and finish a 50,000 novel in the course of 30 days.

Now - 50,000 is a daunting number. The site breaks it down to a simple format.

    1,667 words a day X 30 days = 50,000

Simple, right?

I prefer to use 2,000 words a day - that way if  I fall behind I already have a few hundred in my arsenal (as getting sick each November is always in the works).

Have an idea you've been mulling around in your mind? Something interest you that you've always wanted to write about? Now's the time!

You are writing a FIRST draft here - it doesn't have to be professional. It doesn't have to have perfect grammar, perfect editing. It is a ROUGH draft.

The whole point of this is to get the idea down. Get in locked in place - save all the revisions and editing for December.


How about it? Care to join me on a writing journey this month?

I will be participating this year, if you want a friend: CatherineSilver

Prompt Me

Have you ever sat down to write something - a research paper, a short story, a poem, that one chapter for the novel you're working on - and simply coulnd't the creative juices flowing?

I find that this is the frequent case whenever I get myself down with either pen and papier or on my laptop. All of those ideas that I previously had simply vanished.

There are plenty of things surrounding the internet that can help you with things like this. Chat rooms where writers offer their advice, their methods of beating that brick called 'writer's block'. They have lists and lists of ideas (called prompts) to help you overcome those blocks.

I have complied, collected, contributed, and contained a list of ideas found around the web. Typing it up right now, I find that there is no plausible way for me to not write something each time I sit down.

Here are a few suggestions if you need something to write about:

    1. Synonymous
    2. It Takes Two
    3. Anthro
    4. Lock and Key
    5. Teamwork
    6. Aggravation
    7. Fountain
    8. Fading
    9. Whispers
   10. "Don't Touch Me"


Another beautiful aspect of the internet - there are plenty of Picture Prompts you can use as well. As in - "Write a story about this picture".

Examples:

There are plenty of ways to keep creativity flowing. Sometimes all you have to do is go out into the world, find a place, sit, and write.


Tell me what kind of places, or things, inspire you to write. Where is your favorite writing nook?

Leave a comment!