Archive for February, 2012

Photo prompt courtesy of Madison woods

One of the blogs I subscribe to, http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com, is doing 100 word friday fictioneer. On her website she posted this photo as inspiration, this is my contribution. Hope you enjoy.

Bones scattered amid ashes.

She kicked them, adding to their chaos. Was the detritus of life all that remained?

Pain shot through her stomach, a reminder of her ever pressing need; food, water. The basics of life, now so hard to come by.

She glanced up, dark sky, ash lightly falling, and wondered if she were the only thing left living.

“I am not alone.” her mantra, voiced with raspy ill-used vocal chords, again fell from her lips.

“Sherry, Sherry?” A voice broke into her thoughts.

She shook her head. An office, she was in an office?

“We were talking about your delusions…”

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Okay, I’ve been pretty busy lately and need to apologize. Two of my favorite bloggers have nominated me for a Versatile Blogger Award, Dennis Langley and M. J. Wright and it’s taken me some time to thank them and pass it on.

Thanks to both of you. It’s always great to know that someone is reading your stuff and doesn’t think it’s total drivel.

So now, according to the rules of the award, I’m to tell you some previously unknown info about myself.

  1. I’ve sold cars. Yes, I know, some were even used cars. The worst part about it? I had fun.
  2. I don’t really like chocolate, gasp.
  3. My favorite ice cream flavor is Black Licorice. I really hate what it does to your mouth though. Black tongue? Not appealing.
  4. I’m addicted to BBC America. If I didn’t live in the US, I’d probably just be addicted to BBC.
  5. If given the choice between a quick flight and a long drive, I’d choose the drive. I love road trips.
  6. I’m a political junky. I love debates, watching them not having them, usually. But don’t worry, they are a secret passion, not to be aired on this blog. Can I hear an Amen?
  7. I’m addicted to caffeine. I know, probably not much of a surprise.

The best part of this award? I get to pass it on. Here they are in no particular order.

  1. The Color Lime 
  2. Bridges Are For Burning
  3. The Others1
  4. Judee
  5. IronWoodWind
  6. Madison Woods
  7. M.Pax
  8. Jonesin’ After 40
  9. The Short and Long of it
  10. J.M.Harrison

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I stumbled upon 100 WCGU over at  Julie’s Place  .  Here’s mine, hope you enjoy.


The rover rumbled along, vibrations working through his suit, indicating movement. The darkness was absolute, impenetrable.

“Base?” He asked, voice wavering slightly.

The com in his helmet returned only static. How much further? Dark Side Lunar One must be close. Why weren’t they responding?

He glanced at the meter on his wrist, oxygen level ticking down. “Base, tanks empty, need extract.” He knew his voice shook this time. He waited, no response.

Suddenly, the rover flipped, throwing him to bounce in a low gravity slide.  He came to rest against the body of Corporal Reid.

He’d found base, too late.

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This is wonderful, if challenging, advice. I know I’ve struggled with some (all) of these. apologies to my critique group, the best, most understanding group of writers ever; the Word Herd.  Please check out the original site, they have other great info writers.

San Diego Professional Writer's Group

Often writers don’t know how to be critiqued. I find myself biting my tongue when acrid comments come my way, but I know this is all a process. Here are rules to live by for critiquing.

1. Don’t Argue with the Critic
Whether you agree with what the person says or not, keep quiet. Don’t say anything about the criticism.

2. Don’t Try to Justify Your Plot, Logic, or Style
You can’t speak up when someone plucks your book off a shelf or downloads it. If it doesn’t make sense, live with it. Keep quiet and move on.

3. Don’t Say: “What I meant here was…”
If you didn’t communicate what it was you meant, then folks will call you on it. You need to rewrite.

4. If You Don’t Understand, Ask
If a criticism doesn’t make sense, ask the critic to explain it. You can’t fix the writing if…

View original post 103 more words

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It’s Six Sentence Sunday www.sixsunday.com again, so we’ll continue where we left off in Stranger’s Gambit, on the water front in Nerros…

Val’s luck, his normal constant companion, had abandoned him or at the very least temporally deserted him. Picked pockets normally full of shiny baubles and coins, lately were empty. Prospects inexplicably absent, his coffers were almost entirely drained with no obvious resources appearing on the horizon to fill them.

Damn the guards and the increased security.

He should have never slept with the lieutenant’s wife, or at least not gotten caught. Fortunately, he made it out the window before the lieutenant could grab him, small blessings.

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One of the blogs I subscribe to, http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com, is doing 100 word friday fictioneer. On her website she posts a photo as inspiration, this is my contribution. Hope you enjoy.

“I swear that’s the same rock we passed an hour ago.” I stared at the lichen covered stone, knowing I spoke the truth, as the woods pressed down around me, suffocating.

“Quit bein’ paranoid.” Old man Crietcher said. “I know these woods like the back o’ my hand.” He moved on, with no other choice, I followed.

Darkness would fall soon. A night in the woods with old man Crietcher only slightly more appealing than a night alone. I pulled my red hooded cape tight around me.

Just beyond sight a wolf howled, I froze, alarmed.

“Now don’t you worry dearie, none o’ those wolves be botherin’ you, long as I be here.” Old man Crietcher said, teeth gleaming, voice suddenly gruff.

I’d never noticed before, but my, what big eyes he had…

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I love to drive.

My infatuation with the automobile came at an early age, even before obtaining my learner’s permit at fifteen. I remember being glued to the TV during car chase scenes, drawn to the adrenaline pumping speed and narrow miss cornering.

At this point some might think, ‘She’s just an adrenaline junky.’ I can assure you, that is not the case. Most true thrill seekers love the uncontrollable aspect of their risk-taking, the possibility of the chute not opening, the bungy chord breaking.

The unpredictable scares the crap out of me, if anything I’m a borderline control freak. (I can’t believe I just admitted that.) But perhaps that’s what I like about driving. Sure the variables are still there, equipment could malfunction, some other idiot might lose control, veer into your lane, crash into you, but if your tire does blow out, depending on your skill level, you might be able to survive, steer to the shoulder, avoid wipe out.  In contrast, if you chute fails to open, you’re basically screwed, game over, roll the credits.

So what does this have to do with writing?

When we first start down the author’s path, we’re watching the chase scenes someone else is stunt doubling. Thinking, “Wow, that would be cool. If they can do it so can I.” So we type up that rough draft, knowing we’re the bomb.

We know how to drive, who needs to study a manual? We take the learners permit test; epic fail. We submit our rough draft, fresh out of the gate, because we  don’t need to revise; first rejection letter.

This time we study the manual, put in hours behind the wheel, maybe even take a driver’s education course. We pass, highways and byways here we come. We revise, edit, join a critique group, take a writing class, go to seminars, then re-submit……..


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