So, yes
I am quite proud, yes. Also feeling slightly jealous.
Sis entered a Short Story-competition the other week, and sent us, the adoring family, her entry. It is quite nice. I got one or two minor quibbles with formatting, and she forgot a word, but that’s all.
I never knew she was writing. And here I am, talking and thinking about writing, and she goes out and does so and enters.
Inspired by Ray Bradbury
The Thing at the Top of the Stairs
Your own Thing stands waiting ‘way up there in the attic shadows. If you speak softly, and write any old word that waits to jump out of your nerves onto the page…
Your Thing at the top of your stairs in your own private night… may well come down.
And the screaming will never stop. Or will it? Take a good look at your Thing. Yes, it’s hideous, or else why would you stick it at the top of the stairs, alone in the dark? It’s terrifying. It’s a Thing. Your Thing. Take a good look. What is it?The unnamed terror waiting in the dark. Always in the dark, because the light scares it. It doesn’t like close scrutiny. Your Thing hates it.
Why does it come down the stairs? When you are writing about it, forcing yourself to scrutinize it, to face your fears, why does it come down? Maybe it want to scare you off its trail by rustling in the shadows – for it doesn’t dare, not yet, to step into the circles spread by your lamp – breathing down your neck, watching the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. It likes having that effect on you. What if that doesn’t stop you? It’ll come into full view, despite its hatred of the light. Making you scream, and stop writing about it. Driving you insane, or too fearful to even look at its stairs is a bonus. What it wants is to be an unknown terror in the dark.
Or is it lonely up there? No-one ever comes up there,after all. Maybe it’s starved for attention, and the Thing wants to come down, plunk itself down on your couch and just watch you. Unnerving at first, having your private nightmare staring at you in an unblinking fashion. Remember, it’s lonely enough to overcome its own fears. The least you can do is offer it your couch. Maybe talk to it, if it has speech. Offer it comfort and companionship. Whether it wants to scare you or befriend you,your Thing is there to stay.
(First four lines from “Run Fast, Stand Still, or The Thing at the top of the Stairs, or New Ghosts from Old Minds”, Ray Bradbury, How to Write Tales of Horror, Fantasy&Science Fiction, edited by J.A. Williamson, Writer’s Digest Books, 1986)
The Accidental Sorcerer, K.E. Mills
Book One in the Rogue Agent-series. Amazon says Book Two (Witches Incorporated) will be put out June 2009.
Amazon-blurb: ‘Gerald Dunwoody is a wizard. Just not a particularly good one. He’s blown up a factory, lost his job, and there’s a chance that he’s not really a Third Grade wizard after all. So it’s off to New Ottosland to be the new Court Wizard for King Lional.
It’s a shame that King Lional isn’t the vain, self-centered young man he appeared to be. With a Princess in danger, a talking bird who can’t stay out of trouble, and a kingdom to save, Gerald soon suspects that he might be out of his depth. And if he can’t keep this job, how will he ever become the wizard he was destined to be…’
Mainly, I bought the book because of the dedication:
With many many thanks to Russell T Davies,
who helped me rediscover my inner fangirland
David Tennant, the 10th Doctor, because
he rocks and also, y’know…phwoar!
And then she said…
I don’t write like that, but as I’ve noticed and noted before, I like to write dialogue. I could, in all likelihood, write page after page of people just talking to each other, with some random doings interspersing the forest of quotation-marks and dialogue-tags.
And therein lies the rub,of course. Unless I was writing something like Waiting for Godot, in the end there has to be some action, even it’s only one of the characters leaving the room and the remaining getting a new person to talk to.
Words (Unh!) What are they good for?
Right now, writing for me is a hard struggle. I don’t ever seem to find the motivation for it, and the actual putting words on paper/the screen is like pulling teeth. It’s hard, and I doubt just about every letter I write. So why do I write?
I get ideas, sure. I don’t have the skills to pull any of them off right now, but the ideas are there. Even if they are blatantly cribbed from other sources (as I noticed again when I looked over my list of ideas for NaNo 2006). I keep investing in notebooks and pens, knowing I don’t need special things to write. I just need paper and a pen, not a 15E-notebook and green pens. But I like the feeling of having something that is just for writing.
But am I writing in the hopes of getting published one day, or just so I can point to a large stack of manuscripts, which I can let other people read without embarrassment? I am very uncertain about what I want to accomplish, causing me to flounder in my writing. Hoot thinks I should just write for the sake of it, and I agree, but I still think I need a goal. Something to work towards. (After I beat my procrastination with a large stick, that is.)
Breaking up is the hardest thing
Dear NaNo,
It’s not you, really it’s not. But I think I need a break from you. Due to external happenings we’ve not been able to spend quality-time together this and last year. I am ever so sorry, especially this late in the month and me having quit in the first week, but I can’t do this anymore. With the latest happenings, my Muse has fled the house along with my motivation, an she hasn’t come back yet. She also thinks it’s too cold around here, so she’s on some tropical island, enacting The Blue Lagoon. Or The Creature from the Black Lagoon. She can be a bit cruel at times.
Much love and kisses,
the authrix.
100K? Noooooooooooooooooooo…!
Dear Muse,
No, I am not doing two NaNo’s at once. Where did you get the idea from? Why last year’s (failed) NaNo? And why are you suggesting it three days before the start?
The author, slightly disgruntled.
*
Dear author,
It’ll be fun! The guys miss you. And since you’re stuck on the outline for this year’s attempt, I thought you might like the diversion.
Sweet smiles,
Your Muse.
*
Dear Muse,
The only time Max would miss someone is when he’s drunk and his aim’s off. Besides, you’re the Muse. Help me with the damned plot! Or I’ll have to go find another Muse…
Warningly,
the author.
*
Dear author,
Another Muse? My, aren’t we getting important these days? The rest are all booked for the coming month, as you well know. You’re stuck with me.
Amused,
Your Muse.
How can she defeat a demon? (Modern world)
My FMC is an ordinary young woman. No special powers, nothing. She eventually runs into a demon. A couple of hundred years ago one of her ancestors made a pact with said demon, and now he’s come to claim his ultimate price. The FMC.
My question is: how can she defeat him/get him off her back, permanently? She’s no saint or anything like that.
Blood, sweat and tears it took to make him!
Et voila. My Inner Editor Read the rest of this entry »
