Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Writing Again

champagne-splash-bottle-and-cork
More to celebrate coming soon. :D
It has been a while, a very LONG while, since I last posted on any blogs other than the occasional blurb on Facebook.  Last known post here was back in November.  Her we are at the end of April.
Featured Image -- 1399
Bow before your feline overlords

Not a lot has happened during these five months.  Very little in fact beyond work and taking care of myself, my son, and our family.  Naturally, my three cats get the lion's share of the attention but then, they are our furry overlords and must be treated as such.  If either of them demand my attention, they'll get it in some form or another.  Naturally, it is never enough... to them.
But, as the title of this post says, I am writing again.  It has been too long.  A couple of years too long since I actually sat down and wrote.  I guess college burned me out that badly as far as writing.  Speech class alone was a LOT of writing, then there was English Comp and Lit to slog through.  Yeah, there was a lot of writing.
This story is not yet named, but it starts off rather sad.  Depressing if you ask me, and it wasn't easy to write.  It just came to me one day at work and I guess my general mood added to the overall idea of how to start this one off.  But, the fact of the matter is, I am back to writing.
So, to prove I am doing something, here's an excerpt:
(Warning: it is a bit long)
Slowly, Firiel looked up at Tish then a soft laugh bubbled its way up her sore throat.  “I keep telling you, Tish, there is no need to be so formal with us.”  Though the laugh started a coughing fit which curled the old cat up in pain, she still maintained a brighter outlook.  As best as she could, she waved off her mate when he tried to help her through the episode.  “No.  Vorn, I’ll be fine,” she finally gasped as she relaxed.
“Mom, please,” pleaded her son before the look all children have come to understand from their mothers appeared in the weather face.  “We love you.  Let us help you through this.”
“No, son.” She whispered, struggling to get just a few more minutes with her family.  “I’ll be fine.”  Then, with the last of her strength, she sat up and pointed towards a dusty old box sitting on a shelf beside a large soft cushion.  “Look in that box.  My rings.  Make sure Rhaina get the turquoise one, Minka.  That one is hers.  Yours is my bonding ring.”  She gave her daughter a weakened smile then gave her attention to her son.  “There is a gold band in there, that one is yours.  Tish, my pearl pendant is for you.  Use them to remember me by.”
No sooner had the last words left her lips then she lost any strength she had left.  Her body slumped back against the pillows and she lay there gasping for her last breath.  Vorn slipped his arms around her shoulder and listened to her heart work hard to keep beating slowing with each remaining beat.
“I… love… you…” she whispered softly into his ear with her final breath.  Her eyes closed then her body went still.  As if a switch went off, the color drained from her fur with the last rattling breath left her body.
Wracked by uncontrollable sobbing, Vorn held beloved wife tight in his arms while his children watched; unable to believe that their mother was gone.  “I’ll always love you, Firiel.  Always.”  He choked his words into her cheek fur, clinging to her lifeless body as if just holding on tight would bring her back.
Micah, Tish, and Minka watched, trying not to believe what their own senses told them.  Tears rolled down their cheeks in fresh rivers unchecked.  Only their father’s sobs could be heard in the quiet of the bower.  His grief knew no bounds.  Theirs was too fresh to accept but it was growing quickly within them.
I hope you enjoyed this.  Maybe more will be shared later.  For now, feel free to critique and comment.
Ciao for now!

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

NaNo Novel Concept

Less than a week and counting!
I am looking forward to this year’s NaNoWriMo.  It’ll be the first one since I started college two years ago.  With nothing filling my spare time outside of work, I’ll be committing to torturing my characters as they try to find their way through mountain passes and dragon lairs.  Loads of fun for me!  *evil laughter*
At the moment, I don’t have names for my adventuring party.  There’s no real title either, so I am going with what this one will be: a dungeon crawl.  Following AD&D rules to an extent but definitely rolling the dice to see what happens next and how badly they screw up.  *evil grin*  This will, fortunately, be taking place in the world of Have, my own world where most of my fantasy writing takes place.  So, yes, this will have anthropomorphic creatures rather than humans and demi-humans.  Anyone who knows me will understand the reasoning behind it.
The only names I have are for the monarchy; King Yoseph and Queen Katrina.  The names for the adventuring party are eluding me, for now.  But, they will come about sooner or later.  I hope sooner so I can do more with their set up before NaNo starts.  At least I know what species each will be, so that part is out of the way.
I do have an idea of what is going to happen and in what order.  There will be two primary points which will get them to the artifact they need.  I also do not know what that artifact will be.  But, that can give a bit of mystery to the story while the characters discuss what it is they are seeking.
The best thing is the first seven chapters have already given me the set up for the adventure.  Chapter one will be problem which will require the artifact.  Chapters two through seven will each character coming into the story.  From then on, it’ll be a mystery even to me as to what goes on before the reach way point number one.
Good luck to anyone who is taking on this crazy challenge!  Better stock up on your writing munchies.  Oh, would someone please send me about 50 bags of Jelly Bellies?  Those are my favorite writing snack.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Monster Week Prompt 3

You knew it was coming.  Enjoy!

howling-apes-monster-week-prompt
Twilight hung over the raw battle field, covering the dead bodies in a shroud of darkness as the sun set. A tick haze rolled across the shadowy field, covering the fallen and setting fire to what was left of the trampled grass adding smoke to the ethereal haze. A strange howl rose up, making the ground shudder and the smoke and haze swirl as if it were boiling.
High above the battle ground a lane figure stood watching as the light waned and a new menace entered the field. Bright yellow eyes missed nothing as she gazed at the unfolding scene below. A hot wind flew up, tossing her cloak behind her in billowing waves .
She was not pleased with what she saw below. Nor was she pleased with what was coming out of the deepest depths of Hell. This was just the beginning of a war she tried to prevent between the gods. The price of blood for this battle was already paid and now, those souls would not be able to see the rest they deserved.
What do you see, mother?” A soft male voice came from behind her as a large hand reached for her shoulder. He stood tall and burly, dressed in armor and carrying a helmet beneath one arm. Only his feet were bare, letting him feel the earth beneath his toes and let his claws dig in deep while he fought.
Another howl broke the silence, shuddering the ground once again as mother and son observed. Looking up at him, she smiled, whiskers twitching at the acrid scent of metal and leather. That smile faded quickly with her reply. “I see a large menace coming to us, my son. We will have to fight again.”
The men are tired. I don't think they could go another step right now.” His voice sounded concerned for the men under his command.
I know, Yaneh, I know, but we are left with no choice.” She heaved a heavy sigh and turned to walk back to the encampment. “I have healed all that can. The rest… will have to make do with a potion. Prepare them, son.”
Her words were just as good as any command from a king or emperor to him. Yaneh nodded then followed his mother back to where his men set up their camp. Though his mother was smaller than her, she had about her a strength he could never describe and learned quickly never to question her motives.
He jogged ahead and called out the orders to have all the men assemble before night was fully upon them. It wasn't much time, but he knew they needed to be ready. As soon as his orders were passed along through the ranks, he left to help his mother prepare her potion.
The men are gathering.” He stated as he came to a stop by her fire pit. “Do you want me to help you?” He grinned slightly at her and tilted his head.
Blue eyes met yellow briefly before the smaller feline nodded. “If you want. You know what to do as much as I.” From a pouch hanging from her belt, she dumped out several musty smelling bags. Together, she and her son picked through them and poured the contents into boiling pot of water over the fire.
The flames danced high, changing colors with each new addition to the pot. As the last ingredient was added, a fox came running up, panting hard from his exhaustion. “Lady Sab'Eth! Lady Sab'Eth! We need you. The enemy is coming up the cliff toward us.” He no sooner got the last words out and he fell into a heap, dead with an arrow through his back.
Quickly son! Drink the potion then get it to our men as fast as you can.” She flung her arm back to whisk her cloak away from her body then glared into the night. Behind her, she heard the heavy thud of her son's feet hit the ground as he ran back to take care of his contingents.
From out of the darkness, two sets of reflected the fire light. As they moved closer, the faint sound of chains clinked and the vague outline of the huge apes appeared in the flickering light.
A whoosh of wind rushed through, tugging at her cloak s Sab'Eth stood there, glaring at the intruder with her hands down at her sides and the tip of her tail flicking slowly with her contained anger. “So,” she growled, “you decided to surrender? Good. We don't need any more bloodshed on this land.” She sounded as bold as she felt and knew the demon wasn't there to end the war but to end her.
A loud, booming, laughed rumbled through the earth toward her before the baleful glare of a demon entered the ring of light cast by her fire. “What ever gave you that idea? You know as well as I that I'm here for you.” He laughed again.
The giant apes rattled their chains and strained against them to get to her. Sab'Eth smirked then barked a laugh of her own. “You can't have me, Grax. You don't have the balls to try and take me.” She flexed her fingers, showing off the claws she kept sharp and hidden.
Grax smirked then released the chains. “Get her,” he commanded the giant apes.
The beasts howled as they leaped at her, digging hand-like paws into the ground and throwing up dirt with each step. Their headlong rush to the smaller feline lady skidded to a stop when their bodies felt nothing except for the slash of searing pain along their hind legs.
They turned quickly and rushed her again only to receive the same treatment.
She wasn't aware of the attack on the camp, only the demon at her own and the pets which were coming after her. Round and round she lead them, slashing at exposed flanks and legs. Many times she tried for the head and missed. They could see her coming.
As she wiped her forehead, she smirked. “Looks like you finally found a pet worthy of taking me on, Grax. Let's see If they can handle another demon.”
The spell she recited jerked her body as the demon's laughed at her attempt. He watched as the apes continued to attack, barely breaking through the spell's field to touch her contorting body. The feline humanoid body reshaped through flashes of brilliant light, turning her from a morph to a panther-like demon with pupiless glowing eyes and a dark aura surrounding her body. Knotted muscles twitched beneath a short pelt of ebony fur as she roared her anger at the attacking apes.
Almost as large as the demonic apes, Sab'Eth rushed at them and slashed with claws sharp enough to slice through metal as if it were butter. She gave as good as she got in the fight with the monstrous apes. She could smell their determination to kill her as commanded. They were her equal in strength, but she had a slight edge; she still had her intellect and could out think both beasts with ease.
Grax kept watch, his eyes narrowing when the cat-woman changed shape. He snarled with how easy she could avoid the worst of the apes' strikes. But they were two against one. He had the advantage. Just to make sure, he tossed in a spell of his own, adding to the speed and strength of his minions. Then, just to add to his own amusement, tossed fireballs into the fray.
She was without backup and now, the advantage shifted over to the demon's side. Dodging fireballs and trying to avoid being tackled by the apes, she twitched and turned, letting her own instincts guide her movements while she considered her targets.
For what seemed like hours, she battled the apes. Her energy was beginning to ebb and her three opponents were limitless. She was starting to show the effects of being out numbered, but she kept fighting on, getting slower and slower, but her strikes more devastating. She'd sooner die than lose a fight to these beasts and Grax.
Over the howls of the apes, a loud roar echoed, startling the demon enough his throw was off, hitting his own minion rather than the panther. The chance gave her an opening. While the ape burned, she went for the throat, swiping with her paw to main it and get out of the way of the acid coursing through its veins.
Again, a roar startled the apes, giving her another opportunity to strike. She was getting too tired to fight, but she took every chance she could. Rest would come later.
Mother!” The shout sounded more like another roar and the acrid scent of transformation reached her nose in time for her to see the tendrils of dark aether wrap around her son. When he emerged, he looked much like her only larger, stronger, and better protected by the very spirit he held within him. As he leapt into the fray, he roared to her, “Run! I have this.”
Sab'Eth shook her head then dropped to the ground to let him tackle the apes before they could crush her. “No! Tale care of them. I'll get Grax, their leader.”
No sooner said than an army of the demon apes arrived, howling their hunger. Some were dragging their victims. Others were licking their lips and drooling at the prospect of more than just dinner.
Just as the demons arrived, so did the army her son led. They shouted and banged their weapons against their shields then charged. A clash of metal and stone like flesh rang through the mountains as the two armies merged into one battle under the pale moon light.
Over it all, the maddening howl of the beastly apes shook the ground and the roars of the clans answered them back. Only the rising sun, hours from that point, would tell who the victor would be.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Monster Week Writing Prompt 2

Today's prompt features a djinn.  The picture, I swear, comes out of a AD&D monster manual.  That is how familiar it looks to me, but it serves as a very good prompt.  This one isn't as long as the others.  Maybe a page or so in length, so you don't have to skim through as much.  Oh, and before I forget, it is a silly ending.  It wasn't intended to be scary at all.
djinn-monster-week-prompt
Arms crossed, the green genie frowned at the quivering man before him. 10,000 years and he gets the same reaction every time. They all get scared of the big, muscle-bound, man made of smoke without bothering to introduce themselves or give him an excuse to scare them. It was all the same and he could guess what the next thing would be, a “request” for wishes.
Oh great and powerful genie, I have searched far and wide...” The man's voice faded from his mind as the djinn looked down on him.
Genie. He was not a genie. No one could get it right. Genies are weak compared the djinn. All the magical demigods considered them fledglings of the magical world and the djinn thought no less. Seriously, he could be doing something else besides listening to the same old litany for the millionth time in as many years. It wasn't the life he wanted, but he was stuck with it.
Realizing he needed to give a reply to his “master” he looked down at the man, lifted a brow ever so slowly, then moved in close enough to touch his nose to man's. His intense stare made the man cower and back away from him before the djinn decided to straighten up and return to scowling at this pitiful insect of a master.
Out with your demands, human.” His voice boomed and thunder rolled to emphasize his displeasure. Just then, as the silence filled the area only to be broken by the squeak of a very frightened human, he got an idea.
I... I... I wish to be rich.” The man's voice quivered uncontrollably. “Yeah, I wanna be rich. And famous!” He raised his hand to point out the addition to the first wish.
That's two wishes, human,” he snarled through his growing smile. The evil just glimmered in his eyes. “Make this last one count.”
The human blinked up at the djinn before protesting. “N-no, that's one wish. Just one. I get two more.”
Arching a brow high, he leaned in close to the human and smelled something foul. He must have scared this human into filling his shorts. Lovely. “There are no exceptions, /human/,” he said, growling under his breath at him. “Rich and famous are two different requests. Should have rephrased that.”
But! But!” The stammered before relenting with a heavy sigh.
What is your last request.” He just knew what the last wish would be and he was going to give it a different interpretation.
Puffing out his chest, the human grinned, thinking he'd have this genie right where he wanted him. “I want to be what every woman needs, genie.”
A snap of his fingers and the djinn made the wishes come true, but the first two, he canceled. They were no longer needed now that the human was laying on the ground as a long, thin pad.

Monster Week Writing Prompt 1

Elements of Genre Writing decided this is monster week.  Okay, I can work with this.  When it comes to monsters, I’m not the best, but someone may give some good critique on how tom improve it.  So, without further ado, this week’s flash fiction response to day 1 prompt.
monster-week-prompt
Don’t got into the forest.” The order was clear, the danger unknown, but it was felt in the words and seen in the expression of the sergeant issuing the order. “Until we further notice, no one is to go into the forest. Guard the gates until Melencamp returns.”
The sergeant turned on his heel and left the group of guardsmen waiting for their leader to dismiss them. Among the mangy crowd of men a murmur started as what caused the order to come down so quickly after the disappearance of a few farmers on their way to the next town. A bark as sharp as the squinted eyes of the head guard brought the men back, straightening them up in a rough caricature of a trained contingent.
You heard the sergeant, no one is to go into the forest until the wizard arrives. That means citizens, too.” As short as what the man looked, no one dared to snicker as his display of strength. Not one of them wanted to have the dwarf bringing them down in front of their peers for the man was fast and very strong and they could see the souvenirs of fights in the past on his armor and helmet. Another barked command the guards went to their assigned positions along the high rocky wall.
No one in and no one out until further notice. That worked well for the guards and the other citizens of the mountain town, but for Gherig, those orders didn’t include him. He had a charmed existence and considered himself the best thief in the realm able to escape any danger.
Slinking through the shadows toward the sluice gate where the river filled the moat, he crept silently. No one noticed him there except for the dogs that roamed the walls in search of scraps. Their barking came moments too late and didn’t bring anyone to investigate. Why would anyone bother with stray dogs fighting over a scrap of meat.
That is what Gherig counted on. No one knew he left. All he had to do was get across the open land between the walls and the forest. Until the sun went down, he’d have to wait. The late day sun gave too much light. As soon as night fell, he’d be on his way to see what was keeping the guards in this night.
Being patient wasn’t a strong point with him. Try as he might, he found himself startled into wakefulness. The sky was dark with ominous clouds blocking the moon and stars from view. Even though it was summer, a cold wind swept from the forest toward town sending shivers down his spine. A long and lonely howl echoed from the nearby valley adding to the general feel of unease the night had brought with it.
With a shrug, the thief ran across the bared land to the forest, keeping away from the road itself lest he seen by the guards on their rounds. Out of breath, he looked back at the stone walls and saw the torches move but no one coming after him. He made it across successfully.
Good.” The single word was spoken aloud and it felt out of place among the shadow draped trees. He could barely see a few feet ahead of him. Something felt odd about the old wood. Something not natural and the feeling tickled the back of his mind as a warning of things to come.
Not one to give in to his own instincts, he continued deeper in until he felt sure his own torch wouldn’t get any attention from across the field. As he set about priming his torch and looked for his flint, he got the feeling that he was being watched.
The feeling grew and grew, building while he worked and made him nervous. Trying to ignore the sensation, he kept working on making some light. When at last the flames burst into being and lapped at the pitch coated wood greedily, the light it gave seemed feeble as if scared of the forest itself.
Then, on the night breeze, he heard his name whispered. Over and over, he heard his name whispered but nobody was there. It was just him and the trees and the trees don’t talk.
He crept along the game trail, looking all around to find the source of the voice. The further into the forest went, the stronger the feeling he was being watched. The trees pressed close, grabbing at his clothes as if to pluck them away. Roots lifted to trap his feet and make him stumble.
No where was there the buzz of a bug or the hoot of an owl. Nothing, nothing at all moved except for him and the night wind through the tree limbs.
The trail he followed twisted and turned, ridding him of any hope of being able to find his way back to the field by the city gates. When he wasn’t stumbling over invisible roots, he was brushing away tendrils of moss hanging from the limbs while they grabbed at him.
Without warning, he fell with a thump on the hard earth. The torch fell from his hand and sputtered out, leaving him in darkness again. As his eye adjusted to the dark, the moon found a sliver between the clouds to shed pale light down into the thicket he had fallen into. Brambles twisted into strange shapes with long thorns prepared to strike any who dared step too close. From amid the thorny briars, the whispered voice emanated; daring him to come closer.
A shadowy figure moved within the branches; small child-like, in size but with waves of death and fear flowing around it like a cloud. It moved closer with the brambles giving way before it. The face remained enshrouded with shadow, but the slight body became defined and moved stiffly though with purpose toward his grounded body.
His mind screamed at him to get up and leave. Danger was there in front of him, but he ignored those thoughts. There could be no danger from a child of any kind. He was bigger and stronger than this kid.
Or so he thought.
Behind the child, other shadow cloaked beings appeared, each moving slow and stiff, reaching out with waves of death toward him. Gherig’s eyes went wide as they appeared before him. His strength left him, leaving him shuddering before the child as he lay on the ground watching it and the other.
The clouds began to part, offering more of the moon’s light to the clearing, showing him the white dress of a merchant’s daughter he knew fluttering around he legs. He knew her to be dead, he had done that deed. Others behind her entered the light, their faces blank, eyes nothing more than dark holes where evil lay in wait beside his death.
Her face loomed closer. She whispered his name as a vile grin parted his lips to expose crooked teeth. Her eyes were like the others, holes that held evil desires to drink his soul for the evil he had done.
Gherig’s eye widened, showing the whites as he tried to back away from the girl. She was coming for him. All he could feel was a fear like no other grow when he saw her skeletal hand lift to reach for his throat.
All was quiet at the castle. The cold wind had calmed, leaving the guards to their duty of patrolling the wall. When the moon stated to beak through the clouds, the old wizard Melencamp appeared with grave news. He and the others paused in the market square when a human scream broke through the silence of the night. Moments after, the old clock struck the midnight hour. Few looked up at the sound of the scream. Only the old wizard paused before he was ushered to the lord’s manor to go over his findings.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Tragedy Writing Prompt 2

It seems this is tragedy week in Elements of Genre Writing on Facebook.  Yeah, I know, I am slow on the uptake, but it wasn’t really mentioned until today.  We had another picture for today’s prompt.  Another prompt had a song and video for the prompt but it was a tag game for the whole group to work with.  I may give it a try another week.  For now, I am getting accustomed to people there.
tragedy-prompt2
There was nothing left to say. She didn’t want him any longer and that was abundantly clear. Seeing her anger flashing in her eyes like a forest fire out of control only added emphasis to the shrill words and the sudden slam of the door in his face. Behind the thick oak, he could hear her sobs and the slam of another door somewhere inside the house.
Shawn heaved a heavy sigh, turned around, then headed to his beat up old truck. Sitting on the passenger’s seat was a small, slender, box; a gift for the woman who shattered his heart without giving him a chance to explain. The bracelet inside may never get to feel the soft flesh of her wrist or the charms dance along her sleeves. He couldn’t bear to keep it, so he slipped it into the mailbox with the hope that she would find it before the postman made his rounds that afternoon.
Rather than head back to his quiet apartment, he decided to keep on driving. Far passed the city limits he went until his tank ran empty. The battered and broken fence of the old quarry lay just down the slope from him, hidden behind overgrown vines and trees. Everyone knew it was there and many have trespassed for the privacy the barren rock walls gave on full moon nights.
The keys were left behind on the driver’s seat and the gas can placed by them to let whoever found it know, it needed fuel and it was abandoned. Shawn didn’t want it. He didn’t want the ache in his heart. The angry words thrown at him ran races through his mind giving him little peace. If only she would have let him speak.
Rumor took his girl away from him and misinformation cemented the idea he cheated into her heart and mind. Sarah would have none of it. She believed everything her friends told her and believed the pictures they showed her on their phones.
If only… if only… It all ran through his head trying to sweep away those angry words and give him peace. Peace would not be his friend. It eluded him as easily as the shadows in the night. With his truck down, he had only his two feet and the dirt road ahead of him with the trees reaching toward each other from both sides.
With hands in his pockets and his head bowed, he walked, following the old road. The animals watching reflected his mood and stayed quiet out of deference for his emotional loss. They watched and moved on, leaving him to his circling thoughts and softly mumbled words.
A week later, Sarah found herself driving down the same road. The old truck was still there, untouched by human hands. No signs of Shawn were there. Seeing how empty and alone that truck was, she shivered and gasped as if something cold ran up her spine to tickle the base of her skull. Her fingers traced the little charms of her bracelet while she looked for any sign of him.
Only the quiet of the woods greeted her and the sense that she was no longer welcome filled the air. Unsure of what it was, Sara turned her car around and left. Nothing was waiting for her down the road, only more loneliness and the idea that the past cannot be changed. If only she knew what her words had done to the lonely man. Only the woods know and they won’t give up their secret.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Writing Prompt

This was a writing prompt in a Facebook group I recently joined called Elements of Genre Writing.  Today’s prompt was for tragedy and we were given a picture for the prompt.
tragedy-prompt
It was supposed to be a quiet evening. Nothing exciting, just dinner, maybe a movie, and some alone with her special guy. He had promised her that there would a surprise for her after dinner. Just thinking about what it could be had her on pins and needles waiting for six o’clock when he’d arrive in his beat up old Jeep to pick her up for their date.
That was all it was supposed to be. No more, no less. Katie didn’t expect the limo to take her and Joe to the restaurant, nor did she expect to be taken to one of the most lavish places in town that had a waiting list almost a year long. It was more than she ever dreamed.
Joe gave her bouquet of red and white roses at the door and treated her like a queen. Nothing could have been more perfect. Nothing, until he knelt beside her at the table when their desserts were delivered then opened a small box to reveal a glittering ring. Her answer was only a tearful nod as she covered her face with her hands.
Just as the ring was slipped onto her finger, the nightmare began with the rapid fire of automatic weapons and the shattering of glass. Those closest to the windows didn’t stand a chance. But they were the lucky ones. The rest of the diners were rounded up and forced into a truck to endure a one way trip someplace outside of town.
Why they were kidnapped, Katie didn’t know, nor did she understand why. No one else knew why they were taken away from their normal lives, either. All they knew was they were being taken somewhere far from their homes.
When the doors finally opened, gun fire filled the small compartment making an escape futile at best. No one escaped unscathed. Joe took several bullets trying to protect her and died in her arms. Katie cried, in pain from the hits she took when Joe’s body slipped from her arms to the floor of the truck.
The last thing she saw before the last bullet ripped the life from her body was the sneer of her captor after he took off the black ski mask and aimed the gun at her and the rest of the living.
It was supposed to be a quiet evening.

I hope you enjoy the free write for this prompt.  Critique all you want, I enjoy what others think of my rough work.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Another Post Worthy Assignment from Lit: Hylie's Haiku

I was going to post this Tuesday night and ended up being too stuffed to concentrate on much of anything. Good pasta will do that to anyone and I love my spaghetti sauce; even when I have to use canned spaghetti sauce as part of the base. XP Big ick in my book but I managed to make it taste good with everything I put in it.

So, tonight, while digesting homemade (down to grinding my own meat) hamburgers with onion rings and a salad, I am going to let you see what the assignment was for this week.

Poetry is the subject of the week and we've been going over imagery, tone, cadence, feet and meter... you get the idea. So, the online discussion was we write our own haiku using the traditional 5-7-5 formatting.

This is my submission, Hylie's Haiku:

My calico cat when she was about 6 months old.
My calico cat when she was about 6 months old.
Black and gold delight,
Young, smart, and soft furry form,
Gold eyes miss nothing.

Dave loves it because it's about his cat. No way I can deny it, Hylie is his cat. Caffeine is definitely mine.

This mischievous cat was the first thing to spring to mind when the assignment was given.  Hope everyone likes this haiku as much as I do.

Monday, April 14, 2014

One of Many

I know I haven’t posted in a while.  Ever since my Comp II class, I haven’t felt like writing anything, not even a short post here to let people know I’m alive.  Honestly, I haven’t felt like doing much of anything since this time last year.
This month, I have Introduction to Literature.  This class is a bit more interesting than other Lit classes I’ve taken.  The first paper written is our own continuation of a short story written by Tananarive Due.  Her short story is called Patient Zero and is a diary type story that comes from the point of view of a ten year old boy who survived a deadly sickness.    The project as for each of us to write our own ending to this short story since Patient Zero ends quite abruptly and eaves a lot to the imagination as to what happened next.
We had a limit of no more than 1000 words and I kind of blew that away without realizing it when I turned it in.  Thankfully, I was allowed to do some serious editing to pare it down from the 2,954 words to a mere 997.  For those who are curious, I did get a 92 on it.  Yay!
Without further ado, my continuation of Patient Zero.
********
            Getting to the parking lot proved to be harder than what first Jay thought.  The elevator couldn’t go to the first floor is what Ms. Manigat said, but she didn’t say if there was another way down or not.  All she said was look for the big red ‘Exit’ sign and he’d be able to leave the building.  Simple.  Or so he thought.
His belly growled loudly, urging him to find food and quickly.  None of the offices had food left in them; not a single one of them.  All he found were the bodies of those who had taken care of him up until a couple weeks ago, including Ms. Manigat resting peacefully in her room.  He was afraid to approach her but he could tell that she wasn’t breathing.  Though his heart ached at seeing her lifeless form on the cot, he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, cry.
Grief was overridden by a sudden need to leave the building.  Panic was setting in, making his hungry body shake.  6-4-6-7-9-4-3. The numbers ran through his mind, begging him to grasp them and hold on to that last memory of her being alive before it was too late.  If he broke down now, he may never find a way out or food before his body gave up.  She wouldn’t want him to give up.  Ms. Manigat wanted him to live and be free of those cold lifeless walls.
Much to his dismay, no elevator he found would work.  He tried and tried, but none would go to the first floor.  Through tears of frustration and panic-born sobs he spotted a red sign next to the stainless steel doors with a stick figure walking down what looked like stairs and beneath that simple picture, the word in bold letters “Stairs” and an arrow pointing to a simple grey door just a few feet away in a shadowy alcove.
The plaque above the door was faded, covered in dust and grime, but he could make out the word stairs.  Debris which had fallen propped the door open.  Wiring, some metal rods, what looked like a pipe littered the landing and gave him his only escape from the second floor.  Freedom!  Jay jumped then squeezed through the door.  He descended the stairs as if a demon were coming up behind him, jumping over debris and trying hard not to stumble or fall.  Even he, a healthy young lad, could hurt himself if he fell down in the stair well.
He burst through the door into the hall connecting to the lobby with the bright sun guiding him toward the broken windows and doors of the entry.  The brilliant sun stopped him in his tracks, blinding him until he could see the quiet, late winter, world around him.  Even where he used to live, Mid-February had a certain chill and night would bring more cold.  Only briefly did he return to the building to find a coat, eventually finding some lab coats and someone’s old parka in one of the closets behind the receptionist’s desk.  Before taking his leave permanently, he decided to return to his room and grabs a few things; his blanket, the can opener Ms. Manigat gave him at Thanksgiving, and some extra clothes, remembering what she told him about how to live outside.  Though he didn’t realize it at the time, she was preparing him for this moment.
With everything stuffed into a duffel bag he found in the employee locker room, he went back to the parking lot.  Once outside, he looked around, scared for the first time in a long while and wondered where he should go first.  Only a single look back to give a mental goodbye to the one person who cared for him the most was given then he followed the one road leading away from the CDC building.
Survive.  That is what his tutor and family would want him to do.  That is what he had to do.  As he walked to the empty guard station, he wondered to himself if there were others who lived through the sickness like he did.  Surely he couldn’t be the only one.  There were three little girls in China who lived, so why couldn’t others?
The only exit at the guard station was blocked by a tall metal fence on wheels with cars up against the other side so it couldn’t be opened.  His escape couldn’t be thwarted, so he followed the brick fence until it stopped and was replaced by chain link and barbed wire about eight feet high.  He couldn’t climb that part of the fence so he kept following it.  Out of sight of the guard station and the CDC build, he found a spot where someone had cut their way out, leaving a gaping hole big enough for him to slip through.
As quickly as he could, he found his way back to the road he was following and returned to his original plan, find someplace that still had food.  By the time he found the first store, he becoming weak from hunger and still had not found any water to drink.  During his whole trek, he didn’t hear a bird or dog, nothing except for the wind whispering through the barren tree limbs and the rustle of dried grass waving at him from the road.
Though the windows of the store were broken, he could see inside empty shelves and trash scattered all over the floor.  It smelled like something was rotten inside and rats were skittering about carrying bits of food to their nests.
His explorations found the gruesome sight of a partially eaten corpse huddled in a back corner beneath some fallen boxes.  What food he did find was some jerky hidden in the dirty, smelly, bathroom, and a couple boxes of Twinkies in the back office.  It was better than nothing and he couldn’t be picky.  What he had was just barely enough to take the edge off his hunger, but it was enough to let him concentrate on finding more food and, hopefully, some shelter before the sun went down.  It was already late afternoon and the shadows were getting long.
Those first weeks were spent the same, finding food and sufficient shelter.  When the last of winter faded, allowing spring to warm the earth and the grass and leave to grow, he stayed close to the city, moving from store to store and apartment to house, keeping as far from the dead as he could and taking only when he needed to live.  Eventually, he found clothing he could wear and a better coat in one store and in another, luckily, plenty of food in an army surplus outlet.  In there, he found all he needed from a tent and backpack to the small things to eat with and cook.  Ms. Manigat told him all about them and she knew he could understand the instructions so he wouldn’t get hurt.
In many of the places he slept, he found animals just barely alive and just as hungry as he was.  He set them free and even shared some of his food with them.  One, a black and white mutt, stayed with him, helping him to find edible food and decent water until he found a place with lots of bottled water.  Never had he been so happy to see clean water in his life.  Though picked apart, the sporting goods stores he found offered little but the few larger retail outlets offered what heeded to make drinkable water.  But, he knew, eventually, he would have to leave the city and search for other survivors like him.
With the weather better for travel, he left the city behind and followed the highway.  Days melted into one another as he put the city further and further behind him.  The dog followed him faithfully and gave him someone to talk to during those long quiet hours.
One bright and warm afternoon while he and the dog were playing in a stream, his dog, he finally named Benji, stopped and faced the far shore, his fur raised and a growl rumbling loudly from his curled back lips.  Jay stopped his splashing play and looked in the same direction as his beloved pet.
At first he saw nothing, then as the rustling of leave set itself apart from the normal sound of the warm breeze; he spotted something moving in the shadows.  “Hello!” He called out; trying to sound friendly though he was scared and shaking on the inside.  “Hello?  I… I’m Jay.  Are… Are you friendly?”  His voice wavered then he went quiet, hoping against hope that this person was friendly.
“Wha’d ya want, kid?  Git outta here.  We… I ain’t got nuthing you could want.  Git!”  The stranger sounded male, definitely, and old; kind of how Dr. Ben sounded but not quite the same.  Over the rustling of leaves, the sound of a click was heard.
That sound made Benji bark and bound up onto the far shore, growling loudly, threateningly, at the stranger.  He didn’t back down even though Jay yelled at him to stop.  Naked as he was, Jay dashed after his canine friend and wrapped his arms around his friend’s neck to hold him back.
All that time as Benji was making his advance, the stranger was yelling and cursing until Jay, he thought, had him secured.  “Keep that dog away or I’ll kill it,” the stranger snarled back.  “I got him in my sights and I ain’t above eating mutt for dinner, either.”
“Don’t!” Jay cried, scared for himself and his dog.  “He’s just trying to protect me.  That’s all.”
“Don’t rightly care, kid.  The both of ya git outta here.  Git!”  Then, the man stepped out, clothed in rags and carrying a shot gun.  He held it ready to fire at the both of them.
Just when it seemed he was going to pull the trigger on the retreating pair, another stepped out of the brush and grabbed the gun’s barrel in her tiny hands.  “Carl!  Don’t you dare harm that boy!  He ain’t gonna hurt no body.  Can’t you tell he’s just as hungry as we are?  Jeebus, put yer glasses on before I smack ya for being stupid.”
The woman was a petite, her dress was little more than rags with patches holding the threadbare strips together.  Her white hair looked like a fluffy cloud had settled on her head and her face looked kind.  Though she was just as thin as the man, she looked like she tried hard to keep herself looking as clean as possible compared to the dirty and nearly bald man.
“Get yourself dress, young man,” she said gently, “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya.  We ain’t got much, but we’ve enough to share.”
Relieved, he slowly let go of Benji then did as he was told.  They were the only humans he found alive and he was relieved.  Quickly he dressed and gathering his packs.  With Benji protectively close to him, they crossed the stream, trusting the couple wouldn’t hurt him or his dog.  “Um… thank you, ma’am,” he said softly, almost too scared to talk to either of them.
The woman smiled, her bright blue eyes sparkling brightly with intelligence and a generosity that went beyond the need to survive.  “Aw, now, sweetling, don’t be afraid.  You can call me Momma.  Everyone does, ya know.  Or did before they all got sick and died.”  She sounded so sweet, and welcoming, there was no way anyone could deny her.
While the man grumbled he put his gun back on his shoulder and scowled at them.  “We don’t got enough for another mouth, Momma.  We barely got enough for us.”
Jay blinked at them, not sure if he should trust them.  It seemed too good to be true.  “Uh, um, okay, Momma, ma’am.  Uh, I’m Jay and this is Benji, my friend.  He was just protecting me.  Honest.”  For some reason, he felt the need to justify the dog’s actions to her.
“That’s okay, Jay.  Don’t worry about it.  We had dogs once, before all of this sickness and stuff.  They didn’t live through it.  Too small I would guess.  But looks like yours managed just fine.”  She gazed down at Benji, measuring him then nodding to herself.  “Course, he looks pretty thin, too.”
Jay nodded slowly, still unsure but glad to be around another human.  “I found him a while back.  He’s helped me find food and stuff and been catching stuff on his own.  His name’s Benji.”  Then, suddenly, he remembered something and stopped.  “Did you get sick with the others?”
Momma paused and Carl kept on walking the path they were on.  She looked at Jay with a sad look in her eyes before nodding.  “Yes, we all did.  Carl here is my brother.  We both lost families to that dreaded disease and so much more because we were both too sick to take care of the livestock proper until we were well.  Nothing has been easy since the radio went quiet and the power went out.”  Then, suddenly, she put on a happy face, looking as fake as the mannequins he saw in the store windows in town.  “Let’s not talk about that.  We’re alive and that’s all that matters.”
That was all that mattered.  They were alive, and healthy except for not having enough food, Jay thought.  He had some with him and a bunch of other stuff he thought would be useful later when it got warm.  “Okay.” He spoke softly, afraid he had upset her.  “I don’t need to stay.  I got my own stuff.”
“I see that,” she said gently.  “Looks like you’re prepared for a long trip.  What do you have in there?”
“Proud of himself, he smiled and puffed out his chest.  “Lots of camping stuff, clothes, and some army food I found in a store.  Got some other stuff too for water and some seeds.”
Her brows shot up, surprised by all he had but even more surprised at what he had in his possession.  “Seeds?  You have seeds?  Oh, Jay, you are a life saver.  God above has finally smiled down on us.”
Surprised he looked at her with the most confused expression.  “Yeah, I do.  Got lots of different ones my teacher said were good to grow when it got warm enough.”
Her smile was filled with tears as she bent down to look him in the eyes.  “Would you mind giving Carl and I some of your seeds?  We weren’t prepared for this kind of problem and our truck ran out of gas months ago.  We have had no way to get into town for anything.  All we have is what we could catch and find on our own.”
Without thinking twice, he nodded.  “Um, sure.”  Her reaction seemed odd to him, but he had more than enough for him.
“We’ll give you some fresh food in trade for them, honey.  I promise.”  She grasped his hand hurried down the path.  After several minutes, they came upon the old run down farm house.  It looked like it needed some work, but it was in good repair and behind it he saw several cows and heard other animals though he couldn’t see them.
Carl was just climbing the steps to the porch when Momma called out to him the good news.  He waved them off and went inside.  All that mattered to her was there was going to be more food.  The rest of the afternoon was spent looking over the seeds and deciding which ones they needed or wanted.  The rest Jay put back into his pack.
The old MREs made for a decent meal for all of them, leaving them feeling sated along with the ground meat Momma cooked to go with it.  Some of his other supplies were also given to them so they could enjoy good water.
Because they were so old, Jay decided to stay and help.  Eventually Carl accepted him and let him help as much as possible, even teaching him how to use the shotgun and other things about farm living.  There was a lot both Momma and Carl taught him.
Spring turned into summer, then into fall.  The weeks passed one by one and when winter came, they celebrated with small feast, careful not to make too much.  With Benji there and a strong young lad, so much more could be done and the farm began to thrive.
A lucky find of an old HAM radio lured other survivors to the farm, some bringing supplies and others just bringing themselves and other survivors found along the way.  Years passed and eventually old age took Momma and Carl, but others took their place in leading the small community.  Little by little, they all learned to live off the land and how to make those things required for life like the pioneers did.  Survivalists came and went, teaching them more about how to live comfortably on so little.
Among the many newcomers, Jay met a girl of his age.  Their friendship grew and, when they felt like they were old enough, started a new generation; one strong enough to not fall prey to the disease they had lived through.  Death came far too easily without the medical care they were used to having.  As long as they worked hard and took care of themselves like their ancestors did, the human race could live on for a while longer.  Maybe, this time, they’d be more careful and respect the Earth more.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Week in Review

Lame title is lame.  I know.  Couldn't think of a better one.  Since this a week in review, you deserve to hear some of what happened to me this week.
globe_w_bookClasses started up again on Monday.  Business Communications is this months topic.  So far, this is probably the one course that Rebekah Loper and The BNC wished I had a long time ago.  It isn't just about the different ways we communicate in a business setting, but make it legible, readable, and professional from the more casual co-worker to co-worker  messages to the more formal business to business communiques we see fluttering about the business world.
What this means we do a lot of editing practice, typing tests to get our speed up to the minimum of 45 WPM, which I'm doing fairly well with my average around 38 WPM currently, and working on proper grammar, sentence structure, and when and how to use a comma.  In other words, this is an advanced English class.
I LOVE it!fire2
Now, this goes beyond English and all those crazy rules, we also go over basic etiquette in the office setting, and all that fun stuff.  To make it even better, my professor is an English Major, so he is up on all the writerly dos and don'ts we should know.  To help us, he has posted the various rules for punctuation, comma usage, and other need to know items that I honestly do need to keep in mind.  Much of it has already been printed off for easy use and the rest will be done very soon.
A month of this course and I should have it memorized, or at the very least close to it for use in my own writing.  This professor and my Comp I professor have done so much in helping me improve my own writing.  Both do understand that most of the shorthand we see running rampant on the internet now causes a lot of twitching.  *shudder*
Other than college, I have been working.  Wal-Mart is still where I can be found when I'm not at home or in class.  The days I do have classes, I work evenings until 11 p.m. then the rest, with the exception of one, I can work normal hours and have a full eight hour shift.  Part-time sucks, but it gets the bills paid.  We just won't have much to do extra until we can set aside some hobby funds for printing my art work and making small items for sale at a swap and shop in Pryor a dear friend of mine runs.
Finding time to work on small hobby stuff and writing is easy enough to do.  What is difficult is tearing myself away from distractions long enough to do them.  *flails*
By the end of this month, I should have everything back on track so that I can sit back and focus on plot and other things better than the worry of how to meet bills.  Of course, selling artwork and other things will help alleviate that, too.
That is my week in review.  Not much outside of school and work.  *shrug*
Now, honest opinion, please.  The hobby items I plan to sell along with my artwork are handmade soap and key chains.  I don't have the dexterity or feeling in my fingers to manage jewelry since they require intricate stitch work, but leather strips, large beads, and some key rings don't require a lot of either, just time and patience.  The soap is something I picked up via a kit I found on sale and I like it.  It's easy and not too messy.  Even if it did make a mess, the clean up is a breeze.
Think on those ideas.  I'll be researching different recipes for soap bases and the different types out there.