Daily Archives: September 11, 2013

Uncertainty – a ROW80/WIPpet post

Well come to my little internet home (well, one of them…  this is more like my apartment in the City I stay at to avoid the congested daily commute)!

It’s Wednesday again.  Time for another ROW80 check-in and WIPpet post.


I’m not worrying about directly linking to the WIPpet today.  As I made a Sunday post, I don’t have a lot to report.  I’ve written , but most of it involves paperwork for my son and very little creative work.  I guess it’s  good to be exercising other mental muscles.

pottery bowlsReading has gone well.  I finished I Shock Myself by Beatrice Wood last night, and though I prefer to not write reviews, I will say I liked the book a LOT more than I thought I would.  Impulse buys, especially in the book world, seem to suit me, if not the walls and floors of our house.

I’m getting somewhat excited about this new project “Some Thing (4) Sundays”, I’ve started.  For the first time in too long, I am finding myself looking forward to blogging.

Lastly, ROW80 Fitness…  I’m getting out and moving about more again.  The ankle has healed well and walking no longer hurts.  I’m seriously out of shape though.  I used to be so flexible, but these days,  I creak, muscles protest, resistance proceeds any movement…  Bleh!  I’m thinking of taking some yoga classes.

Have any of you found your body staging a coup d’état against your mind lately?


First, let me start with a song.  For a long while, Hearts by Yes seemed to fit in the world of Swan Song (although I wasn’t sure where).  I first thought the character is most suited was Val (‘Listii’s twin brother), but as I grew to understand the dynamic in the family Hastor and the world in general, I realized it really was Alanii’s song.  It always had been.

Now onto the WIPpet…  Date, date… Oh, yeah…  September 11th.

Let me give you eleven (small) paragraphs from Courting the Swan Song…  the beginning of the draft as it stands so far.


Dressed in a black leather jerkin over a sun-washed brown linen blouse and breeches that had been washed thin in several spots, the Guard at the entrance to the recruitment pavilion settled back to his cautious perusal of the men in line as soon as he barked out that order. Trying to not look as bored as he was after three days of this duty, the man clearly had no interest in standing at attention for any amount of pomp and circumstance.

PavillionsAlanii looked about to see if the man who’d been in front of him for the past several glass had made his return from the jacks, then surrendered to the urging of the men behind him. Uncomfortable with usurping the other man, he pulled his jacket closer around him and stepped forward.

The Guard focused on him now. Alanii looked at him briefly, then into the pavilion. The interior lay just to his left, dark enough to add to his uncertain mood. Was he making the right choice?

The Guard, instead of resuming his bored perusal, looked again at him, and Alanii forced himself to meet the man’s gaze, knowing it would do him no good to attract the man’s curiosity further. He certainly didn’t want to give the man a chance to recognize him before he did what he came to do.

“In there?” he asked, lowering his voice some so that he might sound older than his years.

The Guard smiled with a touch of indulgent consideration. “In there, lad. Our Katsdan is the man with the red hair.”

Alanii nodded, though he’d known that much. Indeed, he probably knew as much about who Katsdan Lanilis Kailiis was as the man in front of him. “Thank you,” he said, and his throat hurt him from the effort it took to keep it low and gruff.


“Your name?” The man looked at him across the rough plank table someone had creatively made for this occasion out of a few loose boards and two stacks of straw bales. Both the Katsdan and his companion had looked at Alanii with calm expressions when he’d entered the Royal Guard’s makeshift recruitment pavilion, but now the man’s manner seemed stern and uncompromising. His gaze narrowed, a sense of dissatisfaction growing as Alanii hesitated. “For the official records, lad.”

Military identity disk (“dog tag”) of the Germ...“And for these,” added the much shorter of the pair. The man looked aside for a moment as he gathered up a small forged medal badge and held it aloft. “You’ll be wearing this in your breeches from now on, so if there is a need, we can identify your corpse.”

The Katsdan flashed the second a scathing look, one that would have made Alanii cringe were he receiving it. The smaller man only shrugged and set down his treasure on the plank table in front of the pair. With a sigh, the taller of the pair nodded. “My aide is correct. If you do die on the field of battle, son, we need something to identify your body. A record of your death needs to be made by the Elder in the histories. And we’ll need to know where to contact your wife and children.”wippetwednesday_zps53e803c0

As always, a ginormous “Thank You” to to K.L. Schwengel at My Random Muse for her hosting of WIPpet Wednesdays where writers post pieces of a draft (Work In Progress) that somehow relate with the date for commentary and consideration.  Feel free to visit other #WIPpeteers at our linky.  We love company, comments…  even gentle (or not-so gentle) critiques.

Photo credits:

  • pottery bowls (Photo credit: Ronmerk)
  • Pavillions (Photo credit: Velorutionary)
  • Military identity disk (“dog tag”) of the German Bundeswehr (1961) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)