Last night, I painstakingly rewrote 16 pages; broke out the thesaurus, cut scenes, changed two spaces after periods to one (because that’s evidently the new standard, *ugh), rewrote dialogue and description, and today I’m brain dead.
I was immediately drawn to this image; the contrast of color, the vibrancy, the imagination runs wild…
Happy Writing! And I look forward to your creations!
As writers, we like our routine. I’m starting to fall into one with my blog, which I like. So, it’s Tuesday, which means a review of Writing Prompt submissions.
This week, redgypsophila of Adventures in Writing decided to try something different; writing six pieces from different perspectives to convey a variety of moods. So far she’s posted two, and I can’t wait to read what else she has in store for us. Take a look at this creative idea!
And don’t be shy. If you’d like to participate, find an image I’ve posted, write/create something, and share it! C’mon, you know you want to. 🙂
As for me, this week I didn’t accomplish much writing. I started the framework for a tv pilot that will most likely become an enormous endeavor because it requires creating worlds, races, and all the other ingredients of a space odyssey. Yep, too much Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Farscape, and Doctor Who. Luckily I have my partner in crime, my sister the Star Wars expert, to help. It should be fun, and I’m excited about the story. I’ll share more once I’ve developed it a bit more.
In the meantime, here’s a little more of my Dragon Age fan fiction. Continuing on…
I could barely think clearly as pain shot through every inch of my being. The prison had this side effect of lifting its victim mid-air while it inflicted its pain, my feet dangled pathetically just above the ground. I would remain helpless for a short time, unable to offer support to my companions, defend myself, or even be released unless the casting mage was incapacitated mid-spell. The pain was too intense to do anything beyond riding the waves as they ebbed and flowed. I could barely see beyond the glimmer of the surrounding bubble of magic, so I could not tell how many enemies were present or how my companions were faring. Surprisingly, I could just make out the form of Morrigan standing in front of me as my guardian.
Morrigan, the apostate, a powerful shape-shifting mage, hardened and mistrustful from years of the solitary existence she shared with only her mother as her companion, had become an unlikely ally. She was honest, brutally so, and had lived a life so different from my own, that she sometimes pitied me, and I her, but we had shared a common bond, magic, and a respect for one another’s gifts, and thus the beginnings of a friendship had been born. She was quick to react, both physically and verbally, and she was powerful, a useful instrument in a fight. I felt her reach into the prison, trying to diffuse it, but pulling back quickly from the searing pain. I appreciated her effort nonetheless.
The sounds of swords striking were distorted, as was Keiko’s low warning growl, and the commanding shouts of Sten and Alistair as they ordered everyone into position for defense. There were strange sounds filling the cavern, and I could tell everyone had joined forces to fight off multiple enemies. I felt the prison’s effect waning, the spell was nearly at an end. I would have to react the moment it released me, having been weakened dramatically from the spell, and thus opening myself up for further attack.
Freedom. The moment my feet touched the ground, I sent out a shock wave to stun the surrounding enemies; it lasted just long enough for me to get my bearings and for us all to regroup. It took a great deal out of me and I fell to the ground exhausted, but I was able to see what had decided to infiltrate our group. Spiders. Enormous, horrifying spiders.
At the rear of the cavern, where it led beyond, stood a being distorted by the forest itself, a mage, perhaps once, but now a vessel for the magic of the forest. Vines and branches entwined its legs and torso. The skin had turned green, mostly, with hair that stood on end, twisted into a bizarre mass caked with mud and flora. It held no staff, but called forth energy from all the life forms surrounding it. This is what might lie in store for me here, if I dared to give into the wild, unharnessed side of my nature. I involuntarily shivered at the prospect.
Have a great week everyone!
Hi all!
I am calling on my fellow bloggers – Who or what blogs do you recommend? Offer up to me some of your favorite writing, screenwriting, geek culture, sci-fi/fantasy, history, something for an Anglophile, or anything that piques your interest blogs…I am open to suggestion.
Feel free to promote yourself! 😉
Thanks!
xx, Rach
Goodness…30 images. Let’s celebrate! Here’s something a little more reality based, but could go either way. 🙂 I look forward to reading what you create!
Happy Writing!
I like that this image inspires a variety of ideas…hopefully, you’ll be inspired to create something and share! 🙂
Happy Writing!
I had planned on writing these last weekend, but it wasn’t until my Thursday night writer’s group I actually sat down and did anything with them. I’m doing my best to keep them under 200 words, and without a lot of forethought or editing. They are what they are.
Again, if you have been inspired to write/create anything from any of the writing prompt images, please share! 🙂
A Cold Night
It was bitterly cold. The air was heavy and dimmed the street lamps that lined the park. He could barely see the bench less than ten meters away. The spot was well chosen for a clandestine encounter. Anders pulled his coat up around his neck and ears, his breath a thick cloud. A shape seated on the bench became visible. She was early. He strained his eyes and ears in vain. There was nothing but silence. The figure on the bench did not move, and as he drew closer was able to see that it was slumped over. He made one final full turn to take in the scene before kneeling before her. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were interlaced with blood from the wound in her stomach, but she still smiled weakly when she saw him. Anders ran his hands over her face, his heart racing. “I’m sorry, “ her voice was just above a whisper. She pulled her coat aside to reveal that she had been wired, and the time was almost up. She pushed him with what little strength she had left and said with all the emotion she could muster, “Run.”
The Wish
Sabine was growing accustomed to life in her new home; the estate was beautiful, the people were kind, and she had duties enough to distract her, and yet her loneliness would not subside. He had been gone longer than expected, and no word had been sent. In order to maintain the household she would have to keep up appearances and only voice her concerns to the wind. Every day she would walk up to the tower where the view was incomparable; she could not only see the bay where the ships would dock, but also the vast ocean beyond. She could spend hours there, admiring the view, watching the interactions of the villagers below, and keeping an eye out for the one ship she longed to see again. It was here she would make a wish, one she dared not speak aloud, and one she had not ever thought to make.
The Manor
She had been riding her horse past the house for months, and had never seen anyone come or go. She found it odd considering the state of the manor, it was well maintained. Her father said the house had been abandoned years before. In the winter months, as the night came earlier each day, lights within created a warm glow. She found herself lingering longer each time she passed in the hopes of seeing someone, but she never saw anything, not even a shadow pass the window. As spring arrived and the weather turned suitable to ride again, she decided she would have a look inside the manor and discover what mysteries might lie within. It was on that day as she drew near, a cold breeze blew in bringing dark, looming clouds. As she led her horse closer, she caught a glimpse of a face in the window. It smiled then disappeared. A moment later, the door opened.
Have a great weekend everyone!!
So I may have made a mistake in posting that last writing prompt image. I didn’t receive any links, I’m guessing, because we were all daydreaming about being there. 😉
So this week, let’s get back to work! This image stirs an idea almost immediately, so I will take the challenge…who’s going to join me?
Happy Writing!
I am not the first to talk about this, and actually, it may appear I’m late to the party, but I’ve been focused on being helpful, and I’ve been so serious lately, that I’ve forgotten to explore some of the other things that intrigue me. Case in point, the upcoming release of the new game in the Dragon Age series, Inquisition. Due October 7, 2014.
I am so excited! For those of you who don’t know this about me yet, I am obsessed with Dragon Age. Thank you, David Gaider, creator of this fantastic world! The original game, Origins, was the most fun I’ve had playing a game in a while, and I unabashedly admit to playing it through three times (as each different class, and every time I romanced the same character because I cannot be mean to him or refuse him, I’ve tried, but I always feel badly about it, to which my sister openly mocks me).
For those of you unfamiliar with the game, here are a few reasons why I love it –
And this is what this obsession has done to me – For Christmas, my sister bought me the wonderful and comprehensive compendium. I have been inspired to write fan fiction. I have played with the idea of getting a DA inspired tattoo (I don’t have any). I have bought music from the soundtracks. I have read books based on the game. I have looked for jobs at Bioware. There was a contest to have your voice included in the new game, and I was preparing for it, then went out of town and missed the deadline. There was some anger for a few days. I’m still angry. I have looked and will eventually buy some memorabilia, i.e. a sword, tee-shirt, what-have-you, when I’m not broke. I want to buy a PC (I use Apple) just so I can create mods (extra scenes with new dialogue, special armor, etc. that can then be inserted into the game) for the PC version of the game, which then requires I re-buy the game for PC. I have an entire folder on my computer dedicated to DA artwork.
I can’t draw, and I am amazed by the talent on DeviantArt and their interpretations and styles. The first two images are Alistair, the Grey Warden and travel companion my character romanced every time (and a female Warden). The second two are Fenris from DA 2, who is a broody elf (with reason) whom my character also romanced. I love these! And am thankful to all the artists.
So here’s a little forewarning as to why I might be MIA come October. 🙂 And thank you for letting me get that off my chest.
Have a great week!
DeviantArtists: Smilika (images 1 & 4), rooster82 (#2), and RinaCane (#3)
Inspired by fellow blogger, Meg Writes Stuff, who writes short 100-word stories, I decided to try to something similar with the Writing Prompts. Last night at my writer’s group, I wrote the following three short stories. I did very little editing, my goal was to write as much as I could in two hours. Now, remember, I am a screenwriter. 🙂 I rarely write prose anymore, but I liked the idea of trying something different, and I’ve been so in my head lately I needed an escape…So here we go –
The Garden
The cool air was a welcome respite from the warmth of the ensuing party indoors. The scent on the air indicated the flowers were in full bloom. The muffled sighs and hushed whispers revealed she was not alone. Neither her soft-soled shoes nor the faint dragging of her gown made enough sound to give away her presence as she made her way along the crooked path. Her hands gently trailed the rounded edges of the bushes that lined the path, their prickly edges tickling her skin. There was a nervous energy about her. As she moved further inward, the darkness grew until she almost disappeared. A puff of white smoke. The smell of chicory*. She hastened her pace. Only a few steps more, and she would be in his arms.
The Castle Beyond
It felt like he had been locked in that dungeon for a century. When he was first interned he had tried his best to keep track of the days, looking for the wisp of light that tried its best to break through the smallest cracks, but as the days turned to weeks turned to months, torture, hunger, and fatigue had made it difficult to care. After so much time, death seemed the most promising prospect. Justice was not to be served here. Innocence was irrelevant. Rumors circled amongst the guards, and it was only then that hope returned. A crafty effort he had been planning for some time finally panned out and he found himself free. Desperation and sense of urgency propelled him forward until he took his first breath of fresh air. It had never tasted so sweet. His eyes, already used to the dark, made out shapes on the horizon. He knew the land well, and took shelter under a distant bridge. His prison had been just that, but at least it had been dry. He shivered throughout the night as a light rain turned menacing. By morning, half frozen and starved he got a glimpse of one of the most beautiful sights he had ever beheld…home.
The Archway
The Archway was considered a legend. The Elders had maintained that The Archway had been destroyed during the first Great War that had torn the land apart, but there were some, who quietly believed it still existed. After the clans disbanded and moved away, there were a great many things that had fallen into the domain of myth. Generations later, when my clan crossed through the Old Lands once again, the legend of The Archway was resurrected. The Archway’s true purpose had been lost over the years; some believed it was a gateway to the afterlife, while others believed it could transport the traveler anywhere they wished as soon as they crossed the threshold, or possibly into the Other Realm. Whatever its purpose, the idea that it was within reach was too great an enticement. After six days in the wild, a mist gathered about my feet and guided me towards a natural formation of steps in the hillside. With the sun rising before me, I had to hold my hand up to shield my eyes, and it was then I saw a glint of light bounce off an invisible structure. I approached with trepidation, but with each step The Archway appeared more distinctly and I became more certain. I had been chosen. I would discover the secrets of our ancestors. But just to be on the safe side, I drew my sword.
I’d love your feedback. It’s been a long time since I wrote like this.
Have a great and productive weekend!
*Note to self – I need a specific scent
This image inspires me, to take a vacation…if you, by chance, are inspired to write/create something, please share it!
Happy Writing!
A Writer's Discrepant Memoirs and Other Tales 