Dreams of the Dead

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.

All Hail Uncle Kage! (photo cred Aloyen)

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.

Cloisters, Bristol Cathedral (cred Marcus Mabee)

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.

ROW80 check-in

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).

An HDR test

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.

WIPpet

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.

If you enjoyed this, why not head over to the WIPpet linky and visit some our other awesome members? WIPpet Wednesdays are hosted by Emily Wrayburn at Letting the Voices Out.

Principles and Decency

Welcome back to another ROW80/WIPpet Wednesday post where I share the progress I’ve made towards my goals in the Round of Words in 80 Days challenge and snippet of my most recent Work In Progress with some other fellow writers for the fun of it.

ROW80

Small gains would be how I’d describe my progress since Sunday.  I’m in a bit of a tizzy in some ways.  I adjusted my goals somewhat since they were making me feel pressured to do too much at once, and yet…  what do I do once I know I have a lighter load?  I relax more and accomplish even less.

Maybe I need the pressure of having too much on my plate to get moving?  Maybe I needed the recuperation time?  Dunno…  a few days won’t make or change things in fulfilling my One Goal to Rule Them All.  And maybe I’ll learn something about myself on the way.

It is rather frustrating though that I haven’t started a drawing since last year 😉 and beyond looking at my assorted directories full of photos to upload two older drawings to my Deviant Art profile, I’ve not touched the non-writing creativity bits.

At least exercise and eating are improving.  And my average daily wordcount has rounded at 900 words…  though not all of it has been worthy of even story consideration.

WIPPET

Today’s WIPpet follows on Wrong, my post from last week.  Right now I’m trying to figure out what direction I want this piece to take (I’m totally pantsing this Jayce & the Wheeled Warrior fanfic).  For a few days I went on a huge “why does this have to be a fanfic at all” binge and wrote pages of character motivations and history to see if I could justify making it one (or not).  The fanfiction elements won out…  but we’re not touching it yet.  We’re still with ‘Listii in the middle of the night…

I offer you 10 sentences for today,  for January (1) and the day (9th).  And I gave you an extra paragraph of last week’s entry for context.

Before he dwelt to long on his lover’s actions, he set his feet on the floor. How? he wonder as he curled his toes. Two centimeters of wool pile and it still felt like he was stepping on ice.

Mincing his steps, he felt around for where Brü had hidden his clothes this time. Woman never could leave well enough alone. Didn’t even have the decency to apologize for making him late for classes. More than once she’d done that, and twice on an alarm… And ‘Listii refused to wear her husband’s old robes, even for a quick walk from her apartment to his.

There were some principles he hadn’t given up on yet.

After some searching and shuffling in the brisk air, he left Brüan’s room, expecting to make a mad dash to the bath. Instead, he paused, letting the subtle warmth of the hallway envelop him and melt into his chilled bones. He only moved when he heard a rustle from three doors away where Kainan looked to still awake, maybe reading or studying.

‘Listii didn’t feel like explaining to Brüan’s son yet again why he was coming out of her room naked.

I hope you enjoyed this sample of my writing.  If you’d like to see some more snippets from other authors  head on over to the WIPpet linky. WIPpet Wednesdays are hosted by Emily Wrayburn at Letting the Voices Out.

Did You Cry?

It’s that time again… Words, whimsy (well, maybe some whimsy) and another ROW80 check-in.

The check-in is the easy part.  I’ve been…  flumpy.  Mostly I’ve tried to finish off a stack of library books that I’d foolishly taken out (well, actually I’d ordered them through the intra-library loan months before and they’d all managed to arrive at the end of October…  and if I hadn’t signed them out, I’d have had to repeat the request process all over again).  I feel I should be writing, but I also feel I need to finish these books.  I feel…  unfocused and haven’t been able to concentrate on my “work writing”.   I’ve still got some time to work on my proposal for the Golden Heart awards, but lately, I feel like I’m slogging through Flag Fen or someplace similar.  Most any progress I’ve made in my J&tWW fanfic The Odds.

I managed some serious words there. Which leads to the…

WIPpet

I have nine paragraphs today… a bit longer than I’d planned but when I looked at the snippet, things pretty much fell together. This piece from The Odds (I posted from this fanfic last week, dealing with Atyr and Alanii), involving Kieri and Andy’s reunion.  This piece is pretty raw (edited mostly for spelling and really obvious errors but not much else).

Maths: December (12 →1+2) plus 6 equals 9

Kieri looked at something on his arm guard “S__t.” He reached into a pocket. “Here. Nights can get a bit rough in the Laris.” The man passed him a small phase pistol with a sheath and an extra cap of charges.

Andy accepted it without question. Rough was one thing they both knew, and it didn’t look like Kieri had forgotten any of those lessons these past six years.

As he was busy threading the thin waist sash he’d been given by the Andar through the sheath, Andy felt a tenuous touch on his shoulder. He looked up, to meet Kieri’s green-eyed gaze, looking down at him.

Kieri was crying.

Andy asked “what’s wrong?” even though he knew what it had to be.

The other man raised a finger, allowing himself to track it along Andy’s cheek. The tip trembled then paused just before his chin. In a whisper that was no steadier than his hand, Kieri said, “It’s really you. It’s you. The Bright Knows, I wished for this, prayed for this. Just to see you again. To see you—have a chance to tell you…”

Like so many times before Andy felt his breath catch; his blood ignited at the man’s touch. He reached and clutched his lover’s hand to his skin. He stared at that careworn face, admiring every line it held. “Tell me what, lover?” he breathed.

Then, like so many times before, the man stopped short. His expression hardened. He withdrew. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”

Andy felt his breath leave him, worse than if the man had punched him. How he hated when he…when he did that. For a moment he just stared at Kieri—f__n Brat hadn’t changed much after all—and fumed. No, Andy decided. He wasn’t going to leave it alone this time. He’d been dead. Six years he’d been dead, and something had made the Andar and his wife to bring him back. Andy stiffened his lip, then before Kieri could head to the door he asked, “Did you cry when I was shot?”

Hope you enjoyed that.  If you’d like to see more, head over to the WIPpet linky and visit some our other awesome members.  Emily Wrayburn, our gracious host, helps keep us in line (usually), and it’s thanks to her that we’re here.