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Weekly Writing Update – 04/17/15

  • Posted on April 17, 2015 at 6:46 pm

Wow, take a look at that date. It’s been FOREVER hasn’t it? I’ve been without internet for a lot of it, due to comcast stating that our ‘internet signal was leaking’. Whatever THAT means. So, a few updates to my personal situation.

I no longer work at Zales, and am in fact with a previous employer, AFNI, inc. It is a call center, but as this is a work-at-home position, I should be able to balance work and writing, which will be nice. I managed to write an entire 150k word manuscript while working for afni last time. This time, I hope to do a lot more than that! <3

Another thing, I’m getting really into Midori-type travellers notebooks? And I’m thinking about creating my own Book-dori, which is a really interesting idea! I’d use it for bullet journalling and note-taking and idea-writing. So there’s that.

OH! And I am now the proud owner of a turtle! <3 Her name is Hermes, and she doesn’t seem to want to move much… >.> But other than that, she’s a sweetheart, and I adore her.

Word Counts: 

First Book of the Kurylian Saga: 1.5 sections rewritten (Current total: 19,390 words)

Kaimi Rowe Series: Seeker Born – Rough Draft – Restarted

Blue Roses – 9,971 words – Dystopian Love Story

An Asexual’s Guide to Dating – Outlined – one section handwritten

Blog Posts:

One Year Anniversary

Books Read

None finished this week, sadly…

Goals 

Keep Bullet Journaling

Two more blog posts for this blog this week!

Re-re-rewrite Kurylian Saga

Finish Summer at Tiffany’s by Marjorie Hart

 

I’d love to see what you all are working on, craft or project wise! Please, tell me all about it in the comments!

Build Your Own challenge

  • Posted on August 25, 2014 at 9:10 pm

abandoned-buildingI had been here before, a long time ago. Something tickled against my body, and I shivered. My foot found it’s way onto the old metal staircase without my mind telling it to. The echo sounds just like it might if I’d stepped on rock in a dank cave somewhere in the deep jungles of the world. Here, surrounded by the graffiti of activists past, I find my hand pressing along the cold, sticky railing.

Up, up, up, I turn, following the staircase with single minded intention. What would I find at the end? What was it that tickled my memory so, that made me desperate to remember, deeply wanting to find out. That strange tickle at the bottom of my belly had started up again.

The one that always told me to go through the small hole at the bottom of that fence next to the abandoned house. The feeling that had me going down alleys that had gates at the end of them. The sense of something great being just behind a locked door, one with wrought iron hinges and stained glass. That same hope, that maybe, just maybe, this time, something wonderful would happen.

This door, instead, was rusted, and leaning at a tilt that let light come through the door. It’s handle was cold and rough against my palm, and I wanted to squeeze it harder. My chest felt tight, something wrong and right all at the same time. I had been here, once. So long ago that I can barely remember it. What was behind this door? What had I forgotten so completely that it filled me with such excitement at the idea of seeing it again?

The shriek of the door’s opening was louder than my heartbeat. Everything whited out. The smell of clean air. The rustle of soft leaves. I pushed past the sudden glare of sun. When my eyes stopped watering, I saw it all.

The beautiful green garden that I suddenly remembered with a clarity so sharp it felt like a knife’s edge. Grown wild now, with no one to tend it, it exploded across the building’s roof, and down the sides of the walls. I remembered now, the old woman with the soft eyes, her scarred lips laughing. I remembered the afternoons I’d come here, hoping for adventure, and never being let down. She’d told me so many stories. So many happy endings, and cliffhanging heroes.

My eyes watered again, this time, at the remembrance of childhood. This time, I let them drip down my cheeks, a solemn wake for a time long lost to me. A time just discovered again. Now, I set out. For a new adventure. Perhaps this time, it would be I who told the tales, who picked the jewel-like berries and pressed them into jam and drink for curious children.

Kicking off my shoes, I began my next adventure.

 

This peice was written in response to Daily Post’s current Build Your Own writing challenge. They inspired us to pick a picture, and an opening line. This, is what I came up with. Upon hearing the opening line, I immediately thought of all the wonder that accompanies discovering something you once knew. And so, this grew out of it. 

 

Ascended Gods – A question of morals

  • Posted on July 26, 2014 at 12:05 am

Tonight I went to see a summer hit, Lucy. To summarize, it is a movie about a woman, who, through a bad drug-ring run-in, ends up able to open up her very brain, and strive past the normal ten percent that most humans can access it. The movie is entirely about her journey from ten to one hundred percent, and what happens at the end.

Lucy Trailer

Now this is not the first story of a human pushing past humanities limits. In fact, there was another such being in media, one Dr. Manhattan. Through a freak science incident, this particular case ended up becoming almost godlike, capable of manipulating not just matter, but time and space as well.

But both of these two have something in common.

Both lose touch with their humanity, over a period of time. At one point, Dr. Manhattan, instead of exercising his gifts to save a woman, ends up allowing her to be shot. Lucy, despite her gifts, and apparent omniscience at the end of the movie, chooses to give mankind knowledge, but no guidance. Both of them, in the end, ascend beyond humanity, and choose not to interfere any further.

Why is this? What is it about these ascended gods that marks them as amoral, beyond the human concept, beyond understanding humanity, despite knowing, and having control over just about everything? Why do these so called gods choose instead to give humanity knowledge, and no true guidance? What is it about this ascension that takes them beyond any and all morals or codes that they held during humanity?

I beleive these characters are designed this way to invoke exactly that. A Godhood, an ascension. The belief that all humankind’s worries and needs are inconsequential in the larger run of things. However, I ask you, why would the belief, the realization of this, make these beings choose instead to fuck off into the deep blue mysterious beyond?

Why instead, do they not choose to stay? To attempt to guide humanity towards some kind of peace? If they have an absolute understanding of everything trivial and horrid that humanity has done, and how to correct it… Why don’t they? Are we to believe that once someone has ascended beyond all the worry, all the strife, all the day-to-day rat-races, that they would just… forget or ignore or lose interest in all of those they once cared about?

Dr. Manhattan’s transformation was quite well done, over a period of many, many years, and to be honest, I understand why he began to lose touch. He became entrenched instead on all of the mysteries the world had now unlocked for him. As he said, “I am tired of this world, these people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.”

I’m curious, dear readers, has there ever been a case of one of these ascended gods choosing instead, to guide humanity? Successfully? Please tell me in the comments about it, about what you think would happen, and about what you think humanity’s response would be.

Rumpelstiltskin

  • Posted on April 21, 2014 at 12:52 pm

I’ve developped this idea for Rumpelstiltskin, that I intend to make a full-length novel out of, and possibly a series. So here’s a snippet of that, since I wanted to write something from it anyway. To explain, since one of the main characters doesn’t HAVE a gender, and is as such genderqueer, That character uses pronouns Xie/Xir In place of His/Hers or He/She. The book will also have this sort of preface, to avoid those whom might find confusion in such a thing.

As the Stillskin, Xie had always been obedient. The Stillskin had never been allowed to move without the Summer Lady’s absolute permission. But this new Lady, this Sweet Rumpel, she was never giving orders. She would ask. She asked if the Stillskin would be alright left home alone, and when the Stillskin had shook xir head, she had listened. She brought the Stillskin things to do, cloth to sew, new books to read, patient teaching to impart upon the faerie-lost one.

The Stillskin knew that Rumpel need not do these things, not after the trouble that Stillskin had caused. For some reason, Rumpel cared. She brushed the Stillskin’s hair, and helped xir bathe, and all of it as gentle as can be. None of the trickery. Xie still hadn’t gained xir words back, and Stillskin still wasn’t able to hide behind a glamour, like the pretty faeries who sometimes stole kisses from the maids in the market. Xie wished xie could.

Stillskin loved her. In a way the Summer Lady had occupied the Stillskin’s heart, now Rumpel did. If she asked, xie would give xir life for her. Like the Dullahan, Stillskin would serve Rumpel until the end of days. Perhaps this was enticed when Rumpel gave xir a spinning wheel, and enough hay to begin again. Xie always felt safer, happier, when spinning the straw. Spinning it to gold, like the Summer Lady had asked xir to. But now, xie spun for Rumpel.

Spinning was perfection, the hay passing xir fingers, calming and cool, and turning to gold. It was one of the only things that xie could still do. Xie thanked whatever powers let xir keep that gift. It was the only way xie could be useful to Rumpel now.

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