Agonies of a Young Author

It's a poor bit of substitution, but I have no thoughts left. To many deadlines. So very very many deadlines. None of them homework. Why do I do this to myself? Oh, yeah, research grant. Thoughts of research grant, research grant...

So enjoy my ROD#13 entry. It was based a picture of an abandoned hospital, but looked like a Victorian house in ruins. I didn't want to go the Jane Eyre route, but the classical literature motif stuck in head regardless.  So can you pick up on the other famous book that I used as my allusion?


          My bit of earth was extraordinary in the summer. The trees blossomed, and everything was so green, so wick. There were roses, fountains of them, but most importantly…

         Colin! COLIN! 

        My eyes watered as I saw his form stand up from his chair, strong and straight. He smiled crookedly at me as he took that first proud step towards me.

        I raised my arms and rushed at my friend, my beloved. When I caught him, my arms clenched so tightly around his torso. At the sound of his heartbeat, I choked up…

… and sobbed out the taste of sulfur.

       “No!” I cried. I looked up. Colin’s smile stretched, protruded razor teeth and black gums. His blue eyes were pierced by bloodlight pinpricks that grew and spilled over the irises and into the whites.

“No!”

        I jerked away. The garden withered again before my eyes, the roses falling, the ivy browning, leaves dropping. I heard a thousand poppings, and whirled to find the manor windows cracked and missing panes of glass. The massive front door sagged in on itself, and fell.

“Colin…”

“Ahahahaha!” the devil laughed victoriously. “Well, Miss Mary? How do you like my work? Memory can be one HELL of an illusion, huh? Ahahahaha!”

“Colin…”

But my Colin had died centuries ago, and my secret garden was no longer mine. I was alone once again. And I had caused all this rottenness myself.

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
how does your garden grow?
In seven hells and human skulls,
and torments all in a row!

Right Now:

What I'm listening to: "Candlelight" by Imogen Heap

What I want most: food

Ahhhhhhh! It feels good to finally submit again to the Deadline Dames' ROD (Readers on Demand) art-inspired flash fiction contest. I've missed the past few months, and that was a big part of my casual writing routine. I've been serious about getting poems out for publication, etc. but I haven't really sat down just to write and goof of in my writing for a while. It's nice to just to enjoy yourself, without a purpose or a goal to fulfill. Just to play with words and plots and characters and possibilities.

I really need to build in a little more time for fun in my writing schedule. I didn't start off 6 years ago to get published, so I shouldn't act that way for the next half century or so.

Anyways, enjoy! I certainly did. =)

****************

(Inspired by a photo with mountains and red, flame-like ground coloring)

"Shaya..."

Ignoring the voice, she continued to yell at the men scrambling on the fortress walls. "Hurry with those bags! Pack them tight!"

"Shaya, it's no use."

She wretched away from the sympathetic weight of the hand on her shoulder. "Have they tried--"

"They're tried everything. It's no use. Please, Shaya, come away now."

"We've got another one here!"

Shaya stared at the man facedown in the street, his companion tugging uselessly at the limp weight.

Dammit. "Leave him," she barked out. "He's dead already."

The man glanced at the Commander at her shoulder before glancing down one last time.

Shaya turned away. "Call it," she said.

"My liege," the Commander said, bowing.

"Retreat! Retreat! Head for the hills!" he bellowed at the last of her people. They might be able to make it to safety before the volcano caused utter destruction; some, inevitably, would not.

Dammit. Shaya glared through her tears at the abandoned shell of her home and cursed with every last reserve.

"Damn you brother! Damn you for eternity, leaving this place and bringing the wrath of the gods here!"

She watched as hot magma crawled ever closer to the barricaded gate. The normal defenses were meant for the might of man. Nothing was adequate against the gods.

"Just damn you."

Right Now:

What I'm listening to: "So Contagiously" by Acceptance

What I want most: mac and cheese....

Good evening, mes enfants.

I feel quite aged today, as if appellation "my children" really did suit my mood and my personality. Perhaps the Witch of the Waste's spell infected me too, and not just Sophie. (If you have no clue what I'm talking about, I watched Howl's Moving Castle last night as I was mending my Beledi skirt.)

Well, today is the ROD deadline again, and here is my submission. It was over the word count, but this really was the most distilled that I thought I could make it without sacrificing character and background, so I posted it anyways. We'll see if it qualifies.

*****
In response to this image:



It wasn't that she failed, exactly. Not quite. It was just... well really, it was just an aberration...
Oh, bloody bells, she had failed. A simple transfiguration spell, and she failed. Ended up a bullet shaped ornament, as useful as modern art and about as pretty. Not anywhere near the crystal ball she was aiming for.
"Jan! Jan, what happened? You ok?"
She didn't bother replying to her brother. It was his idiotic idea that got them here in the first place anyways.
"I knew this was stupid! Just like all your idiotic schemes! I swear, Jan..."
All for such a simple trick. Just a few gigs, a few well-paying customers--
"Hey! Answer me!"
--just turn into a crystal ball, utter a few mumbo-jumbo nonsense phrases to any fool fool enough to go to a fortune teller, and...
"Jan! I'll tell the Lord Wizard!"
Dammit, they could have been rich.
"January, I'm leaving-- NOW!"
"Aw, shuddup. I'm working on it," she finally answered. "Leave me alone."
"No! I told you we should have gone to him on this one! You never listen to me," Tommy said.
"Such a momma's boy, always running and crying to the Lord Wizard, and yet we always do just fine on our own."
"Yeah? Can you get back on your own?"
She hesitated.
"That's it-- I'm going to go get him," Tommy said.
"No!"
"Why not?" he demanded.
"Yes, petite, why not?" another voice added.
Jan stared in horror at the Lord Wizard advanced into the room, amusement and resignation flickering across his thin face.
"Oh, mes enfants, what mischief have you been up to now?"

*****

Right now:
What I'm listening to: Sleepless by Kate Havnevik
What I want most: ...?

I won the ROD#6!!!!!!!

I can't believe it! I'm so honored.

I really have no words, so I'll just leave you with my (winning!) entry:

Murderous, it took everything from her. Stripped her body and soul and made her as cracked and parched as the desert. Twin scars from the permanent I.V. lines marred the inside of both arms. A new open, unhealed hole gaped in the center of her chest where the unfamiliar Hicman Central Line snaked along muscle and bone into her heart, delivering poisoned medicine directly into traitorous veins of cancerous blood. Veins pulsing and throbbing and killing her one dying cell by one dying cell.

I can't spend much time here today. I've spent all my "break" time and far beyond revising a short story of mine. I'm really satisfied... that I revised it. Not with the short story. But at least it's at the stage where it can go on in the writing process- hidden in a drawer for another year, sent out to a few people to read, scribbled on, and just all around, in general revised.

So that's one.

Now for another, oh 50 or so to establish a career? Yikes.

So I can't stay long here today. I do need to write a creative non-fiction piece for tomorrow's class, as well as some various sundry things. I had a contest deadline that I missed today. I had the poems, but they weren't revised the way I would be comfortable with, so I allowed the deadline to go by. But that also means on the next one I have to kick butt!

Therefore, I can't stay long today. I have a poem started in front of me that I'm vaguely satisfied with. I can see the bones, but the flesh and blood and skin are not there yet. However, I feel that I can work those in if I 1) let it percolate a little, and 2) revise. I feel like I am achieving a more mature style in my own voice, which I am really excited about. Not like I'm doing growing, but the revisions on that short story show me that "Yes, I can achieve a polished piece... after revision."

So I really can't stay long here today. I need to do all this creative writing, as well as regular work for my professors. It's really interesting how I am stimulated by being busy, and work better in such a setting.

Therefore, I don't have the time to stay long here today.

But apparently, I can wiggle my way out of anything.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: Alkaline Trio's "In Vein"
What I want most: Food! I'm hungry.

Well... good news, I entered the ROD contest for this month.

Bad news, I forgot about the time change, and I got it in by midnight east coast, but the comment popped up in mountain. Which meant I had a whole 'nother hour to tweek with the stupid thing! Sigh. (*headdesk*)

That is rapidly becoming something like a personal motto. Can I get it copyrighted?

Anyways, I'm rather proud that I got anything in. I was looking at the picture the entire week leading up to the deadline, but nothing was coming in from the Muse. I think she went on vacation but forgot to leave a notice on the office door. Anyways, I was frustrated by the girl's expression. I found it totally blank, and I couldn't figure out why. There was no determination, no anger, no pain, nothing... It was an emotional blank screen. Not even her eyes seemed to see anything.

Then I was listening to Alkaline Trio one night, and the lyrics seemed to jump right up at me.

"The Poison"
It's not just a pain
A pain in my back
That laughs in my face
My face every night all the poison that took my lungs
That keeps me from feeling warm

But how could a rooftop view in London
Look just the same as one in Brooklyn?
Nothing has changed but now I fight with the words
And I can't see so good

And there's gotta be more
Much more than this
I got pages of dreams they're covered in piss
And a poison that took my soul
It keeps me from feeling anything

And how could a rooftop view in London
Look just the same as one in Brooklyn?
Nothing has changed but now I fight with the words
And I can't see so good
And now I fight with the words
And now I fight with the words
Now I fight with the words

And how could a rooftop view in London
Look just the same as one in Brooklyn?
Nothing has changed but now I fight with the words
And I can't see so good
And I can't see so good (I can't see so good)
And I can't see so good (I can't see so good)
And I can't see so good

And the Muse popped up from somewhere, and said, "She's blind!"

What I tried to do was show that the main character was blind without outright coming out and saying it, but I'm not sure if I achieved that. Perhaps if I had that extra hour...lol. Anyways, please comment and tell me what you think! And enjoy my ROD entry!

***

"You came."
The words, harsh and unforgiving, came from the woman's left. She continued further into the room, staring blankly forward, as rage hung heavy and red against her skin.
"Do you know why I called you here?" the voice hissed.
No emotion passed across the woman's expression. Her eternal face was undisturbed by lines around the eyes.
"You betrayed us." A man emerged out into the open through loud footsteps against the floor. "It's not just that you stabbed me behind my back! It's not just that! It's that you betrayed us- all of us! We worked for you-- and you left, you bitch! You left-- and for what? Some kind of peace? It doesn't exist!"
"I couldn't fight anymore. Now I fight with words." Her words were low, sliding gently into space.
She heard his rushing staccato steps."You could have stayed! You could have helped us! And you left anyways."
"What could I do?" The woman did not look around at his nearness. "Exactly. You know that I had no other choice."
"Bah! You're not fighting. You're running away. Afraid."
"No. Never," she said, and her voice was tinted with something like regret.
"It doesn't matter! I could have killed you on that rooftop in London! Just the same in Brooklyn! But it's got to be this way! I will have revenge on you."
He slashed fiercely at tender flesh. The woman pressed a hand to her upper arm, but continued to stare sightlessly forward as the blade descended again.


***

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: TV
What I want most:

Some days, you just get walloped with emotional maelstorms, and everyone- including yourself- should just watch out. Saturday was one of those, and I spent the entire weekend spitting and fuming. For those who know me personally, they know that this rarely happens. I'm a pretty easygoing person, and I don't deal in (outwardly) emotional extremes. This weekend I was a basket-case. I got so mad/frustrated/embarrassed/humiliated/annoyed/whatever that I cried because I couldn't do anything else.

I don't really want to go into details-- there's a slight issue with sensitivity. And really, who wants to dwell on it? I'm just putting out a general warning that some issues are a natural trigger for young writers. Or, actually inexperienced writers; both labels apply. And I'm sure people don't mean to, but this weekend I got my little writer's heart crushed. But enough of that.

So I'm taking my revenge. I spent several hours today looking around for contests. I'm going to rededicate myself to submitting, and really trying to build myself up again. Because sucess is the revenge that no own can argue with or take away.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: Norah Jones "What Am I To You?"
What I want most: revenge. definitely revenge. So I want to win.

So Deadline Dames released their ROD contest results today. Unfortunately I didn't win. Or even make it to the finalists. I'm bummed, but I'm also determined to enter the new ROD. I want to continue with this particular writing contest, so one day I can say that I won. Since it reoccurs every month, I figure it's also a really great training exercise. I like the new image, so I'm thinking that I'll continue the story line from my entry into the new piece.