Challenging myself

Starting yesterday I set up a calendar and entered 2,000 words to write per day for the rest of this month. I hit my mark last night at 2,017 words. If I can maintain that this month the total will give me around 72,000 words. I have no idea if it will get me to the end or not. I also have no idea if I can do this every day, but I want to up my average until I can hit, well, I don't really have a specific amount set at the moment, but I'm thinking ahead to NaNo.

I'd like to see the end of this WIP too. After that it can sit in the background and wait until I'm ready to begin going through it. I think I may need to go look for some exercises on writing description. I so suck at that and it shows. I could probably do dialogue all day long and not have much of a problem, but describing things, blech, just can't seem to get it in there.

Once I get Treasure Trove finished I might devote more time to Shattered Souls. That's sort of the plan, anyway. Of course I'm still thinking ahead for NaNo, although nothing brilliant has exploded in my head yet. My problem with Shattered Souls is that it's taking me longer to write. I guess the in depth stuff is what's slowing me down, and that seems to be a lot of the story itself. That and working on something that makes me stretch my writing skills, as lacking as they are.

Then there's the two shorts waiting to be finished. One is done, but still in editing mode. The other isn't quite there yet.

Last part of Treasure Trove I wrote yesterday.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” the captain said. “Everyone has been give orders to not harm any of you.”

“Including your niece?” Devon wanted to remind the captain of what he had already allowed her to get away with when she had him alone and away from the others.

“Of course. She will not disobey me. I can assure you of that.”

“You may be assured but, sorry, I don't buy it.” Devon rubbed his ribs to get his point across. Just in case the captain had forgotten so soon.

Last paragraph of Shattered Souls, which was written over two weeks ago. ::hangs head::

His hands covered her fists, his fingers prying hers open in slow movements. Caden jerked but Kane held fast until their palms touched. Shock waves went through her body and she no longer saw Kane standing before her. Instead she saw the past; painful and raw.

Neither have been edited yet so if anyone does read this, please be kind! :)

Off to do some cave chores!

Tracking my words

Just had a thought, this morning, right now. Scary! Not finished with my coffee yet. I think I'll make a track sheet of some kind so I know how much I've written each day, er, the days I get some writing done. Since I work on more than one project this won't have me running madly around and through my files. That way I can see how much wordage I've done in a week or for the month. Since I'm a visual person this might help with a bit more motivation also. If I see really low numbers that could be a kick in the butt.

Now I need to mull over just exactly how I want to do this. I have one I made up for NaNo, but I want something a little bit simpler for this one.

One project sits at over 50,000 and I'd like to have it finished before November when NaNo rolls around again. The other is at a sad 16,000+ and I'd really, really like to see the end of that one. Not because I'm tired of it but because I just want to make it to the end. A sequel to the latter one might be nice to get set up for this November. Now if I can only come up with a good premise for another.

Aha, just had another idea! Since I'm soooo good at putting stuff off, maybe doing a sheet of some sort to list projects I'd like to get finished might be in order. Mainly a few shorts I need to either finish or edit.

Now see, that would be organizing, and my personality test said I am disorganized. I can organize my stuff, the problem is for me to remember where I put it. As my husband is fond of saying, "Please don't put stuff away, because you won't remember where you put it and now we'll never find it." He's right, of course, and we do laugh about it.

Write. Not writing.

I thought I'd get more writing done this week, but it didn't happen. Some writing, and sometimes lots of it, but too many days there was nothing. Mom is here this week and while she isn't more work, I seem to get uptight anyway. It's the Alzeimer's Disease, although, there hasn't been a lot of change from last month when she was here for a week. One week out of each month doesn't seem like much, but it feels as if it drags.

The last few months or so she's had this mantra. That's what I call it. She repeats over and over praying to God for one of her kids to come get her. Hurt more when it first started, not as much now, and I know it's the memory loss, and I'm not sure she realizes she says it either.

Sometimes she knows who I am and sometimes she doesn't. Too often anymore she thinks this is some kind of "home" that people come to and I take care of them. Sometimes she thinks she's only here for the day and someone always picks her up before it gets too late and night descends. There isn't much she enjoys doing anymore. A little crocheting, but nothing like she used to. Television just has no attraction for her no matter what I turn it to, so I don't bother to turn it on unless I want to watch something. She is still fairly addicted to her crossword puzzles, but there are times she seems to get tired of those too.

It's a sad, sad disease. She's told me things she's done that I know didn't happen, but it's best to let her think it did. She'll talk about "her husband" as if he wasn't my dad, which tells me at that moment in time she doesn't know who I am. Her quality of life has lost so much and there's nothing to be done to change that. It's more like she just exists, and not much else.

I miss the talks we used to have. Now you can't keep her attention long enough, so we don't talk like we used to. I have the memories of all our talks; she doesn't. So, I hold those memories because that's pretty much all I have left of my mother.

So, the tension I feel keeps me from writing as much as I'd like to this week. Not to mention it makes me tired. Ah, well, there is next week and the week after that, and. . .

Until next month.

Personality Test

Personality Test

trait snapshot:

secretive, reclusive, messy, disorganized, introverted, unassertive, rarely worries, dislikes large parties, does not like to fit in, does not need to control others, solitary, ambivalent about chaos, tough, leisurely, does not respect authority, not aggressive, observer, abstract, impractical, dislikes leadership, daydreamer, bizarre, does not make friends easily, not a perfectionist, suspicious, rarely irritated, strong physical instincts, unsympathetic at times, risk taker, submissive, weird, sarcastic, strange

K, let's go through these one by one.

secretive: No, not secretive at all. I leave that for others I know.
reclusive: As much as I can be.
messy: Now that makes me sound horrible. My husband is messy. The cats are messy. I get tired of cleaning up after them, so, gee, that makes -me- messy.
disorganized: Hey, there is a method there. I organized. Just can't remember where I put the dang things.
introverted: Knew that one already. No surprise to me.
unassertive: For the most part, yes. Just don't back me into a corner. I take a lot, and I mean a lot! But there comes a time. . .
rarely worries: I worked hard to find that state of mind. Wasn't an easy journey, but certainly worth it in the end.
dislikes large parties: 100% right.
does not like to fit in: Not that I don't like to fit in, not always sure where that spot is.
does not need to control others: I think there's enough work involved in controlling yourself, why bother making your life harder.
solitary: Well, yeah, that kinda goes along with reclusive. Yes?
ambivalent about chaos: What the hell does that mean? I'm uncertain about confusion and disorder? Oookaaay.
tough: Um, not so much. Really. Trust me.
leisurely: Why be anything else? Just makes you uptight.
does not respect authority: Oh, come on. I respect authority. Just don't shove it in my face, please. And, if that -authority- deserves the respect of others.
not aggressive: I can be determined, but in my own quiet way, and pretty much only to myself. Doubt anyone else sees it. I'm also not energetic in any kind of pursuit.
observer: Ha! Funny how everything around me gets past my observation antennae. I'm too much in my own little world to notice much of anything around me.
abstract: Confusion abounds in mind on this one.
impractical: So, so wrong. I'm quite practical.
dislikes leadership: Well, that sorta comes from liking to be alone. I prefer to lead myself -- not lead others, just myself.
daydreamer: 200% right. Was born with that trait.
bizarre: Excuse me? I don't even get this one about myself. Doesn't fit. Doesn't compute.
does not make friends easily: True enough, for a couple different reasons. Part from the way I grew up, and part from getting stabbed in the back more than once. Tends to make one leery.
not a perfectionist: I can be picky about a few things, but on the whole this one is pretty much true.
suspicious: So not me. I leave suspicious natures to others in my family and they are welcome to them as far as I'm concerned.
rarely irritated: Quite true.
strong physical instincts: Ahh, no.
unsympathetic at times: Well, if the person deserves my sympathy then they have it, in spades. I refuse to sympathize with anyone who wallows in their problems just for the sake of getting others to feel sorry for them.
risk taker: Bwahahahaha! Does that answer that one?
submissive: Again, to a point. Depends on the circumstances. Remember that backing into a corner thing above?
weird: Huh? Guess we all get called weird at least one time in our life.
sarcastic: Oh, please. Oops, was that sarcastic?
strange: And there's something wrong with this? Actually I don't find much about myself that's strange. Strange, isn't it?

I know, personality tests are not accurate and I've never to date been labeled correctly. Hmm, maybe that does make me strange and bizarre.

Writing Again

564 words written last night.

Last night I got back into Treasure Trove and was fairly happy with the scene. At least it moved it along. Kaste has found that it's handy to have Stella on her side now. Even after being searched, Stella manages to have a very tiny knife hidden on her person. With a weapon, even one that small, might help them get some valuable information out of Jezel.

I only wrote a little over 500 words, but that's more than I've been doing. One word would have been more than I've done in months.

It's funny, in a strange way. Kaste was created as a character for another novel, a fantasy, but I decided she wasn't really needed in that one. I wasn't sure what to do with her for a time, then when NaNo started getting nearer I thought I could use her for that. The first one I started didn't go where I wanted it to, but at least I didn't have very many words done. So I switched from yet another fantasy with her and dumped her into a space opera. Even though there were times last November that I wasn't sure where this story was going and got stuck a few times, I've had fun with her and Devon. I also discovered that when I got stuck it helped to switch between them for chapters.

It left off where Devon is being held captive in some other area of this big ship and Kaste doesn't know where or if he's all right, but she's pretty sure he is still alive. He has information the captain needs, but since Devon still has amnesia he isn't going to be able to help the captain. Whether the captain will believe Devon can't remember or thinks he's faking it remains to be seen... or written.

I know where I want to take this tonight. Now I'll have to hope it comes off as well written as it is in my head. Kaste will come face to face with the captain.

There's also another character that hasn't made an appearance yet, only been background fodder, so I'll need to flesh her out, right down to finding a name for her. I think she will be entering the story soon.

Coming up with ideas

I like the two characters I came up with for this Space Opera. Not sure what I'll do with it in the end. If I ever manage to get to the "end." It's fun, though. Aaron hasn't made his appearance in this yet, but he is in a few Flash Fiction ones I spewed out. This came about from an exercise.

Setting: A dank cave

Character: A beggar

Conflict: There is suddenly an unbearable smell nearby

It consists of a whopping 1261 words. Sad, it is. And as it stands, Josh isn't really a begger but he had to resort to that role while stranded on a planet he detests. So far, as I skimmed through the paltry words written, it might seem that this is on some fantasy world, but there is a reference that it is not.

The cave part will be coming up soonish to make its appearance. And the "unbearable smell" will be revealed also. And Josh thinks things are bad for him now. Bwaaahahaha! After that Aaron will make his entrance. Drunk as a skunk, but he'll be there for the rescue.

::what the hell is "drunk as a skunk" skunks get drunk?::

I think I need to do some more Flash Fiction in order to tighten up. I've seemed to wander into wordiness a bit too much with this right from the beginning. Writing Flash Fiction does help get rid of excess words, so it's quite the eye opener. Absolute Write has a section for writing it.

Josh ran headlong into a boulder knocking him backwards and he landed flat on his back. He hadn't the strength left to run. Or walk for that matter. But he could crawl. Gritty sand dug under his nails and sifted through his clothes. His skin felt like someone had dumped minute particles of glass all over him. But he still crawled.

Trying something new

Sort of, since I think I downloaded the Avant browser before.

::think I must have been a cat in another life::

Curiosity always gets me. I like to see how things work and if I want to keep them or unistall them -- sometimes they go poof real fast. Will give this one a shot for a bit this time.

Okay, what the freaking hell is going on? Sitting at the bar in my kitchen and I turn around to look out the window and, man! snow is coming down like it's December or something. Almost makes me think I should haul all my decorations out and light the cave up. Yeah, seriously, it really truly looks like that outside right now. This is April! I should be able to go sit outside fer crying outloud. A couple of weeks ago people were walking around in shorts and now it's time for the longjohns again. Sheesh! Those who live in caves hibernate in weather like this. It so screws up my inner season clock.

About the time it does decide to heat up we'll probably get some freaking temps that will cause a meltdown. Guess I need to move back farther into the cave where it's a tad bit warmer.

::/rant::

What to do... What to do!

Crap! Story for NaNo is, well, I'm not sure how to put it. Beginning sucks worse than big time. Later, it sort of settles in, is the best I can put it. But, if I go with where it sort of gets off the ground then what the crap am I going to do with all those other characters in the first part? Chuck them all out? I don't really want to do that but am going to have to do some serious thinking on exactly what to do with them. Whole other story? Ick! Don't really want to go there. Not at this point, anyway. I guess it's a thought for the future, though, and why should I throw away perfectly good characters? So... I guess I'll keep them around. Who knows, maybe they can be their own NaNo coming up.

I do have another story I'd like to do, but if I did it in November I'd be cheating since the thing is already started. But, I love Josh and Aaron! They are fun to write about and hang around with. Yeah, yeah, they aren't real, but still, they are a bundle of fun. What can I say? I've found that Space Opera is a ball to play in. Don't have to worry so much about the science stuff, which I'd fall down under as it is. And to think that these two guys were born from flash fiction! The few of those I did with these two weren't incorporated into the overall story, and most likely won't be. But who knows? There's still a ways to go with them on their adventures.

At this point I can't tell if Josh and Aaron are straight guys or not, and they don't seem to be saying at the moment. But, hey, two space guys who are treasure hunters, well, that leaves a lot to work with, plenty of worlds to explore, and tons of trouble to get into and out of. So, whichever way they lean I'll wait until they let me know.

NaNo 2006 Thinking...

I still have yet to figure out what I'm writing for NaNo. I thought maybe one thing but now I'm leaning towards another. The other is only a thought at the moment but I like it, what I have that is.

Guess I just can't stay away from my space guys and treasure hunters. Okay, not going to use the old stand-bys I stick in Flash Fiction Friday. They're good for that exercise so there they will stay. Have a new character, a couple actually, one male, one female. Whoo! Wonder if a romance is going to bloom between them? Find out in the outline. Maybe. If I do stick with these characters they may be staying on the planet I found them wandering around on. Still, there might be treasure to be had! One can never be sure.

That's another glitch at the moment. I have no outline, but want one. I guess I can't run to the store and buy one so will have to do it from scratch. That's okay. Have no idea if this is the one I really want to do so am not going to get all excited over it just yet.

Later.

Flash Fiction Friday 3

Been sick for a couple weeks now, but I promise to get to all the stories I haven't read yet!
-------------------------

Delivery Girl

It was a dark and stormy night and I certainly, absolutely did not want to be here. Rain slashed my windshield while lightning tormented the sky above, and at the same time the wheels of my old, beat up, battered car kept refusing to grip the road. I was all over the place. I knew I shouldn't under these circumstances but I grabbed the banana sitting on the seat next to me and peeled it with jerking motions. The only supper I'd most likely be getting into my poor stomach tonight.

“Last supper, Sara,” I said out loud.

I almost lost it on the road, but heck, I'd be lucky if I lived through the next hour or so anyway, what with the task I had looming ahead of me.

The long gravel driveway reared in front of me, my headlights barely picking out the entrance that would lead me to my doom. I pulled up to the large, dilapidated old house, feeble lights giving nothing but pinpricks of illumination.

A huge sigh escaped my lips as I pulled up to the front. I glanced into my rear view mirror and was dismayed at how I looked. Mascara ringed my blue eyes and my long, straight blonde hair hung in straggles, some strands sticking to my cheeks. Reaching into the glove box I pulled out a pack of wipes and began to wash my face, then dug into my purse and found my makeup. I reapplied my mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick, ran a comb through my hair, although nothing would help the white face staring back at me.

Something caught my eye and I turned the mirror down a bit. Green skin! The necklace Mark had given me had turned my neck green! Cheap bastard! I jerked the offending jewelry off, rolled my window down and threw it out into the mud.

I opened the door and got out of my car. I slammed the door shut then walked to the back of the car to unlock the trunk. I grabbed the box of food in both arms and hauled it out. Shutting the trunk was an acrobatic feat.

The house stood there, uninviting, but what was one to expect of the habitants inside. I trudged up to it, with the rain sluicing down and plastering my hair to my skin once again. I could feel my mascara running. I knew I'd look like the undead. A shiver ran down my spine, not in a nice tingling way either, but in the way you know someone has walked on your grave.

Up the rickety steps I went, hoping I didn't fall through and break something, mainly my body appendages, since I didn't much care about the food in the box. My foot kicked the door since my hands were full. Silence greeted me.

“Mr. Connell! It's Sara, from town, with your groceries.”

If no one answered I could leave the box on the porch and hightail it back to town and at least live through this night. I heard thumping footsteps coming. A sigh escaped my lips. No such luck for me tonight.

The door opened, then all I saw was the back of Mr. Connell. I followed him reluctantly into the kitchen, more by sound than sight, as all that lite up the inside was a few candles here and there. I put the box on the table and hoped to make my retreat.

“Did you bring my whiskey?” his voice rasped at me.

“I don't know, Mr. Connell, I didn't pack it, Joe did, but I'm sure whatever you asked for he put it in.”

“It better be in there.” He began to haul items out of the box, slamming each one down on the scarred table.

I didn't want to think about what had made those deep cuts in the wood of the surface. All I wanted to think about was getting back to town alive.

“Know what they wanted to do to me?” His voice boomed as it scratched my stretched nerves.

All I could do was shake my head, even though he wasn't looking at me.

They wanted to hook some wires up to my head and scramble my brains. I know what happens when they do stuff like that. I heard about it.”

“Mr. Connell, they just wanted to do an encephalogram. That's nothing. They do it all the time.”

“That what they tell you, girl?” He looked up at me, his bloodshot eyes bore into mine. “They experiment on your brain and it gets scrambled, then they putrefy it.”

I nodded agreement. No way was I going to argue with the man, not if it got me out of there faster, even if I didn't understand the putrefy thing. The man's brain was already scrambled.

A shuffling sound brought my head around and my eyes flew to the doorway. My stomach clenched as I saw Mr. Connell's daughter coming towards us. Sally Ann, the town zombie. And her pet aardvark. She had the stupid thing on a leash.

Mr. Connell wouldn't be any help. I backed up and my eyes saw something glint on the counter. A butcher knife. I grabbed it, threw it. It landed in the middle of her forehead. She stopped, but didn't go down, only stared at me.

I couldn't get past her and her pet so I grabbed a chair and tossed it at the only window in the kitchen and forced my body to follow it. I rolled in mud a ways before I could get my feet under me, then slipped and slid towards my car.

Sara the Zombie Slayer I wasn't, but I was alive. I felt good I had survived, so good I was ready to jump Mark for the cheap guy he was.

Flash Fiction Friday 2

Earth: The Map

Josh walked around the totem, inspecting each indentation and all the markings.

He looked at Aaron and shook his head. "I don't see anything."

"It has to be here," Aaron said. "The source was reliable."

"Wouldn't be the first time we were taken in."

Josh watched as Aaron searched the totem just as he'd done. Then Aaron's gaze went to the top. Aaron looked at Josh. "You don't think...?"
"Anything is possible."

"So, whose turn to do the climbing?"

"Your turn," Josh told him. "I did it last time, remember?" At least Aaron wouldn't have to climb a sheer wall like he'd done.

"Not that high," Aaron said, as he tilted his head back and looked at the large, gray bird carved out of wood situated at the top. He grabbed hold of the bottom section and began to inch his way up.

He found hand and foot holds easy enough. Josh watched as his friend pushed and prodded each area, but nothing budged to yield a secret compartment.

"How are you doing?" Josh called up to him.

Aaron glanced down and Josh could see beads of sweat forming on his face. He never passed up the chance to get in a dig whenever Aaron had to climb. The man was afraid of heights but loved roaming in space. He always told Josh that was different, yet Josh had yet to figure out that kind of reasoning.

"Got something," Aaron yelled down.

"What is it?"

Aaron held something up then grabbed one of the gray wings to catch his balance. No answer came from him as he made a slow decent down the totem. As soon as his booted feet made connection with the solid ground, Aaron leaned over and put his hands on his knees. With slow movement he held up a folded piece of paper.

Josh reached for it but before his fingers touched it a voice spoke behind him.

"Well, well. Thanks for doing the hard work."

Josh turned slowly. "Maritta, what a nice surprise."

Maritta cocked her head to one side. "You know, I can never decide which one of you is the best looking. Aaron with his dark looks or you, Josh, the fair-haired one." She shrugged one dainty shoulder. "I'll take that. Wouldn't want to cause a stir here, now would we?" A stun gun was aimed directly at Josh.

"Don't give it to her, Aaron."

"Sorry, Josh, but I don't care to be laid out flat for who knows how long. Besides, others will most likely be coming along soon and we'd have to explain what happened."

Aaron stepped forward, arm outstretched and Maritta grabbed the paper from his fingers.

Maritta walked backwards until she had enough distance between them, then she turned and disappeared down a path.
Josh swung around ready to berate his friend.

Aaron put one hand up to forestall him. "Don't worry, I know what was one it."

"And?"

"It's a map. I memorized it. Wasn't hard since I know where the coordinates end up."

Josh drew his brows down in a frown. "So where are we headed to now?"

"Caston," Aaron said with a smile.

"You're kidding, right? Do you remember the last time we were on Caston? They'll skin us alive if we return there."

Aaron shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"I think your mind has slipped a few. All the trouble we caused and the hard time we had getting off that planet, nope, I'm not going back."

"Seems to me you're slipping, my friend. Need I remind you what else awaits us in Caston?"

"It's not worth it." Josh stomped away.

Aaron let out a loud laugh. "Not worth the challenge alone? I know you better than that. You'll go to Caston and revel in the thrill of not getting caught this time."

Problem was, Aaron spoke the truth, as much as it pained Josh to admit it, even to himself. Yes, they'd go to Caston and damn the consequences.

Introspection

Why do I not write more often? That's the question I'm always asking myself. When I do write I enjoy it. It might be abhorent, okay, it generally is. Hell, I even like editing. So why do I put it off constantly? I think if I look deep down I'd find that I feel I'll never write anything being worthy of others reading, and at the very most someone actually wanting to pay for it.

::doubts::

::doubts::

If nothing more I should just do it for my own pleasure and leave it at that. Maybe there are some writers out there who don't walk around with horrible doubts in their minds, but I have to wonder how many do carry such uncertainties within their innermost thoughts.

Procrastination and doubts are my Degree. High school education is all I attained, and that was painful enough. School was not a great place for me, yet I never once thought about not finishing. Had an English teacher who didn't help, other than to put down all the students he ever had. He'd squash a dream faster than lightning. Guess I could add the Hard-Knocks-of-Life-School to my resume. That's about it.

Sounds like I'm "baring my soul" here, and "woe is me." Which makes me smile a bit. Maudlin I'm not! Truly, I'm not that kind of person. I not only like the simple things in life I really enjoy them. Not a needy person and am happy being that way!

I think I should be writing something more tangible instead of spitting out this stuff. :)

Later.

Decisions, decisions

Took a look at _The Grona Stone_ tonight. Yeah, yeah, lousy title, I know. Sometimes, though, I kinda like it, other times I think it sucks. Right now it sits at approx. 29,300.

I knew I had a problem not long after I got into it. POV, to be exact. Didn't know what to do since a couple of the characters got split from the rest. These two are my favorite. They feel fuller to me. ::I know, rounded out -- I like fuller:: Got some good friction going on between them. There's lots of friction with all the others too, but not quite the same. Or, not coming out in the writing as well. I'm not sure. I like the others and there's lots of potential there, but I have to wonder if they need to stay somewhat in the background for this story. Guess they could have their own later if it worked out that way. Just don't know if only two can carry most of the story. 'Course then another entirely different character walked on and I liked him. Brother to one of the main characters so maybe he needs his own story too. Yikes! A series? I'm now thinking in terms of series?! Never thought I could do one of those. Hmmm, will have to think on that bag of worms.

It's been interesting so far, to say the least. The two favorite characters took me down a path I didn't see coming. They are fun so I'll forgive them for high jacking the novel.

I'm also going to have to work much harder to get more darn description in. I have white-room syndrome! I can see it yet it refuses to seep down into and through my fingers onto the keyboard. Stupid brain! Maybe the fingers are at fault. Could be they shut off any entry the brain tries to make. There's a conspiracy going on, I know it!

Guess I continue to stick with just these two for main characters and not clog up pages by going back and forth. Two POV's are enough to deal with.

I also thought they had reached their destination, but noooo, they haven't left the ship yet. Must be all that other stuff is in my head and I only thought I'd written it already.

Now I'm worried about another one I have. Probably don't have what I think written on that one either.

No wonder brain doesn't function properly, there's too much clutter in it. That alone should give me enough incentive to write more. At least it might clear up some space.

Anyway, I keep fluctuating between making this a YA or not. Keep leaning towards YA, so will most likely go that route. I think it's set where it could be written either for YA or Adult. The main characters are on the youngish side, but still on the high end of it, and I don't want to change that. Guess I'll just wait and see how it all comes out in the end.

Think I'll go curl up on my rock shelf for the night and let the mind run through those unwritten words again. The noggin needs a refresher course on those scenes. It also needs to stop getting so far ahead of my typing and trick me into thinking I've got more done that I do.

Ah, well, it was good to get some of this out.

Flash Fiction Friday 1

Planet Fanlan: Cursed Daggers

Josh placed one boot on the first step, careful to check that the old stones didn't crumble under him. It held and he moved up next two then crossed the circular center to stand in front of the partial curved wall.

"What are we doing here?" Aaron came abreast of Josh.

"You'll see," Josh said.

One hand reached out to the aged stones, while his other hand rested on the hilt of the dagger at his side. The rough stone scraped across his palm. Josh ran his hand along the stone blocks and felt inside each niche until a slight tingle went through is fingers. The dagger in his other hand hummed. A tiny jolt shot through his fingers.

Josh pressed against the stone. It grated inwards and the block next to it slid open.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes." Excitement and a feeling he couldn't describe ran through him.

"Don't touch it, Josh"

"I know the legend." His fingers wrapped around the dagger.

His other hand pulled out the knife at his side. Josh held both up and an arc of light shot from one to the other. Both blades shaped into a lightning bolt. The light between them died, but not the joy that sang in Josh's blood.

"See, Aaron, they didn't strike me dead. That means I was meant to own them."

"As long as innocent blood doesn't taint them."

"I don't intend to."

"Good intentions don't always stand," Aaron muttered.

Working on......

Too many projects it seems. My folders are going to get too plump for their own good!

Started an exercise last night. ::no, not that kind!:: Flash fiction, of which I've never done before and don't know what makes me think I can now. Three characters to go off in different directions. Yeah, baby, I can sure do that in 250 words! HA! Don't know who I'm kidding. Seems everything I start as a short wants to grow up to be big strong novel. Beginning came easy, but where to go and how to keep it to the word minimum? That's the nagging question.

And now I'm thinking of starting another flash fiction.

::bangs head on cave wall::

Did one about a week ago from an exercise, but not flash, thank you very much Muse. Still, planned on it being a short but now wants to rear its ugly head and become All-That-It-Can-Be. Not to mention its taking me down a path I've never tread before. We're suppose to stretch ourselves in our writing, yes? ::sigh:: I'm hoping to have fun with it anyway.

Fantasy and Space Opera are the niches I cling to, although what I know about space and science wouldn't fill a thimble. Last night's came out YA fantasy, yet to be finished. I got tired. Puppy got tired. We went to bed and left characters left hanging. I should be working on it now. I should have worked on it earlier today. Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda, Didn't. I still have time tonight. Just need some motivation.

Motivation, motivation where did you go
Down a road so dark I lost you
Now I can't get back home fool

Whoo Hoo!

First blog, first post!

::New::

::Shiny::

Things I like!

Oh, yeah, Welcome to my Cave! Yes, that's where I dwell. In my imagination, anyway, and I like it there. Everyone needs someplace to go, relax, refresh, get away from the mundane and all the crap that goes on in real life. Try it sometime, you may not want to leave, although you will as RL is an essential place to be, but it's easy to take mini vacations, if only in your mind.

No, I'm not crazy. Okay, some may say I am. It's a crazy world out there and one needs to sip a bit of the crazy to get by in it.

So, pull up a slab of rock and make yourself comfy, and don't mind the guano, I get to the cleaning up later.

More later.