Last Wednesday for the ROW80 blog, I challenged my fellow ROWers and myself to share an image or paragraph of what sort of writer I aspired to become during my ROW80 journey. I didn’t think of how hard this might be for me (and likely others). Hitting a moving target tends to be more difficult than not, even when the target is barreling upon you.
Sometimes you just want to jump out of the way…
Still, I have a picture (or two) that might somewhat fit within the parameters I’d set.
Here’s the first, a picture from AnthronCon 1998 (our second convention and that last held in Albany, NY). Taken during the panel where we were passing along the crown from Aloyen to Uncle Kage, this picture, while a horrible one of me (I’m the giggling one not really in frame), it shows joy, playfulness, an interest in sharing ideas with others, and being part of a vibrant community.
This second fits my other half… the person who looks at what was and tries to picture the stories that lived during those time. My husband took this in 2005 at Audley End House in the gardens (which are magnificent). I’m listening to the audiotour for the site and looking up at a large plinth (the stature on it long-since toppled and broken) and trying to figure out why the inscription was done in cuneiform. So many stories there… not the least being my ubiquitous Reebok sneakers and the long-suffering jean-jacket that’s been to England every time I have.
Lastly, this blurry, but all-the-niftier-for-that image my son took of me in Bristol Cathedral this fall. I like it because it’s vague; being a black & white image, it evokes something “old” while oddly being one of the more recent photos I have of myself; and I’m looking up at the beauty and wonder around me, almost breathing the ghost-like memories of the multitudes that walked through these cloisters with me.
If nothing else, I hope these images show that I aspire to continue growing and learn, discovering and experiencing. The writer I wish to be is based on the person I am now, a bit of a dreamer, a bit social, a bit of an introvert, the kind of person who finds and develops wonder in the world around her. You may notice there aren’t any pictures of actual writing here. That because the words on the page need inspiration… they need stories to be recorded.
These pictures are about where the stories come from and hopefully where they will go as well.
Nothing exciting to report here. The daily writing has gone well. I also got some photos edited and even tried a new technique [new for me that is] of creating and combining layers for an HDR-like image of the moon (for those of you who’ve seen it posted to FB already, apologies).
Something that’s been bothered me since this Round of Words started is how hard it has been to get my head into a space where I can finish my Futurelearn classes. Something always demands my attention these days (usually househunting stuff, but sometimes story ideas). This may be a goal that needs to be set aside until the move is over. I’ll probably replace it with reading more library books since I can do those in the car or away from my PC and we have a lot of traveling coming up.
Lastly, here’s the next bit of this opener to my Ice Queen Beyond fanfic. It’s not a big snippet, but next week the scene changes to the crew of the Pride of the Skies in another part of the galaxy.
Five sentences (or two paragraphs) with a repeat of the last paragraph from last week’s post, Safe:
He waited the count of twenty then nudged the door, cracking it enough to hear the sounds of water running from Brüan’s bathroom. In the line of light from the hall, he finally saw the few folds of black cloth and gold braid laid out like a tease on the back corner of the sofa. ‘Listii weighed his chances, then darted in and grabbed up the pile. Not doing more than step into his breeches, he snuck back out with the rest of the pile under his arm.
Opening the door to his own quarters let enough light in to remind him of why he’d taken Brü up on her offer to spend the night. Still, better to not miss morning rolls again just because he’d hoped to miss Chaz snoring.
Quietly, but not so carefully, ‘Listii stepped over to the closet and gathered a few spare blankets and pillows. These he draped over the chair as opposed to the sofa bed. There, he settled back in and tried to recover his dream and maybe find out why, so many years after her death, he was dreaming about Atyr again.