Flash Fiction Contest

Writer Unboxed is having a "7 Sizzling Sundays of Summer Flash Fiction Contest." For stories of 250 words or less. Rules and prizes are at the previous link, and here's the latest writing prompt, open for submissions until early Wednesday morning (4 a.m. Pacific Time).

Thought my writing friends might be interested. You've missed two weeks, but there's still time to participate this week and for three more weeks. And hey, lots of good little stories to read, too. This is a more serious writing website than some. Not very amateurish. Donald Maass and Juliet Marillier are even among their blog's regular contributors, which is pretty awesome. (I haven't yet reviewed Writing the Breakout Novel by Maass, though I loved it, but I've reviewed five of Marillier's books -- probably easiest to find them by heading over to my Book Reviews by Author page and scrolling down to Marillier.) Anyway, all that to say, maybe that's why most of the entries seem to be of a fairly high quality. All of them are available to read in the comments. And if you want you can just read the best of the best by looking for the winners and the honorable mentions announced each following week.

I entered the opening week (same link as the rules and prizes above) and this week (yeah, latest writing prompt link). So there's that, too. The labels on this post that don't seem to relate to the content here are about those stories. I wasn't very creative -- based both stories very strongly off myself -- but hey, they don't know that! Shh, don't tell.

Melanie! Books! Writing! Celebration!

Yes. That.

Well, you know how, last week, I wanted to celebrate The Antepenultimate Blog Post hitting 1000 pageviews? Probably not, since I hadn't linked to it anywhere else yet. Well, I did. Want to celebrate, that is. You don't have to take my word for it, you can read the post.

Um. And you know how, when I added the list of popular posts to the sidebar, I talked about (next-to-last paragraph) how I'd thought of featuring an eleventh post every now and then, as well as a post from someone else's blog?

Let it be so!!!

Or something like that.

I will start a series. In each post in this series, I will feature a blog. And a few favorites from the blog. Because I may be the one person on the internet who doesn't particularly like reading "link roundup" posts, but one blog at a time? Okay, I can do that. Today it will be my sister Melanie! Parmandil. As you know, since you clicked on the link.

I think I will also experiment with headings today. Woo, shiny.

Parmandil: Stories and Writing

Faramir

A passionate, in-depth explanation of why, in The Lord of the Rings, the movie's version of Faramir is a mutilation. Yet she understands the difference between the book and film mediums, and loves the movies, too. This isn't crazy talk or nit-picking.

Books that have changed my perspective in important ways

An amazing list of books, and some of the best things about said books, beautifully highlighted. There are just a few on the list I haven't read yet, and I'm going to have to, now.

The Diary of Briar Rose (better draft)

A draft of the beginning of a novel she's working on. I love it. I really really want to see her finish and publish it. Especially the finishing, so I can read the whole thing, and not just be stuck with a very intriguing beginning. But publishing, while it would be wonderful for her in general, would ALSO be good for the story -- editors, and whatnot. Yay! Though I and others have given Melanie a few critiques on this draft, for it could be better, don't let that fool you. It's not at all bad now. I think you'll enjoy it. Especially if you like fairy tale retellings, as I do.

The Diary of Briar Rose

This draft, while written later, is not her favorite draft of it, as the above is. But you might be interested in reading this one if you're interested in the writing process and suchlike. Overall it isn't quite as good, but there are a few things about it I really liked and would like to see included in the final version. The worldbuilding mechanics are especially good in this one, they just need to be in a less exposition-ey form, eventually. Expository. That's the word.

Quettandil: Creative Writing?

And then there's an old favorite of mine from my own blog. I'm tagging the posts in this series as "featured," and any with my own writing as "hopefully underrated." Because I do hope they are.

Masks

My posts about my mother are some of the most popular here, though that might have a bit to do with facebook tags and such. They're... highly emotional. I'll "spoil" my "Masks" poem just a bit for you by saying outright: yes, it's about my mother. It might even be the first Mom post I put up here. If my tags can be trusted, it is.

Aedhira Beginning

"Aedhira" being the temporary/tentative name of my novel. Now, these scenes won't necessarily remain. Just something I threw together on my breaks at work. I'd been thinking about what I was going to share at writing group that night, and how I'd have to share something from later in Aedhira, since I didn't have a beginning yet. But, much as I like the scenes with Tessa, some of them sort of have spoilers. I used to have a beginning (or two?), but then the plot changed and it (they?) became unusable. So, instead of sharing a later scene, I wrote myself a new beginning. I've only changed this a bit since sharing this with the writing group. Added some names. All names are tentative, although extras are even more so than main characters. I really need to go through and figure out the languages better before I can truly create good names... The plot may change again, plus I'm not sure how much I like this anyway (see comments after story)... but anyway. Here it is, hope you like it, and I'll have more comments afterward.


Tardev glanced over his shoulder repeatedly, but kept riding into the forest. He had heard any number of tales about these woods, some of them from trustworthy folk, but he didn't see any other choice. No one would follow him here. No one would return him to the gypsies. There were only a few places like that left in the world to turn to. Better this than to run to the fey. Still.... he kept his horse to a walk, and his hand kept wandering back to his sword. This forest was supposed to be filled with witches, shape-shifters. Maybe ghosts, too. It was a strange place. He was hoping the tales were at least a little bit exaggerated, because he needed to live here, not just pass through. The lands beyond the forest belonged to the fey, and they were supposed to be even worse than whatever lived here. Who knows, maybe the woods were empty now of whatever had originally caused the stories. He could hope.

* * * (centered, as blogger won't allow)

Lariel cautiously peered around her tree. It wasn't a great hiding place, but it should do, as long as the Defender didn't head straight towards her. She'd just change into her unicorn form and make a dash for it. Pilat was the Defender, and he was slow. He was just an otter. In human form he wasn't a bad runner, but he couldn't compete with a unicorn. And since they weren't playing in the water, he didn't stand a chance as an otter.

Pilat was coming in this general direction, but wasn't coming right to her. He hadn't seen her. Her heart beat fast, and she wished Tidhana were playing. She always helped her. But now she was saying she was too old to play. Hanging around the throne room, as though she were going to be the queen tomorrow instead of decades from now.

She heard something rustle near her, and held her breath. Had Pilat come this way while she was daydreaming? Maybe she could still run past him... she peered out. No one was there. Maybe a mouse had been sneaking through. Though why a mouse would bother to hide this far from the "castle" tree, she didn't know. She tried to make herself still and silent again.

She stood there. And stood. This was getting boring. She'd almost rather be caught. It was probably time to run. She peeked out again. He was nowhere in sight. That probably meant he was far enough away she could make it. She changed in a blink and galloped forward. Ah, there he was. He saw her, but was busy chasing Fisha and wouldn't catch her. Triumphantly she reached the tree and changed back to human, grinning at Lani, Sytu, and :Zhina, who were already there. Horse, hawk, mouse. Happily she watched the chases and the sneakings to the tree as the game wound down. Pilat did catch a couple, despite his otter handicap. He even managed to surprise Niad, a deer normally good at the game. But not her, not her.

They were arguing about who should be Defender next when they saw Rizh running towards them. They all stopped and watched him. He was too old to play. He was so old it was unusual to even see him run. Something exciting must be happening. As he neared, he called out, "Stranger in the woods." He huffed a little, came closer, and stopped. "You should all go back to the castle." He meant the real one, of course, not the game one. Lariel felt a sinking in her stomach. Many protested, asking to come help scare the strange man, but she knew she never could. She was a unicorn. Outsiders, xlefa, must never see her. Not in her unicorn shape, anyway. And as a human... well, maybe if she hid well enough she could scare him a bit. But they would never let her. She sighed and started walking home, away from the babble of arguing voices.




So that's it, at the moment. Short, but sweet? I've been doing a decent amount of writing recently, for once, although a lot of it has been plot work. Hopefully I'll get it nailed down pretty well soon, and either way, I think I should be able to write a continuation to this now.

Incidentally, although this is more important later on, the word "gypsy" may be misleading. I may still continue to use it, as the best English equivalent, but it describes a people group that doesn't exist in our world. Some of the typical attitudes towards gypsies would apply, but not all of them. And they're not the same people.

That very beginning part feels a little corny to me for an intro. I hope it's okay because I immediately undercut it with the next scene, but aren't you supposed to hook readers with your first words, not your second paragraph? I think (if it works) it's a funny effect, talking about dangerous ominous places that end up being peopled by kids playing the equivalent of hide-and-go-seek, but... don't know if it's ideal, or if that really comes across.

Is there not enough exposition? Too much? Are you confused, or does the action not flow well enough because of exposition interruptions? It's not as much an issue here, but I'm also worried in later scenes that I spend too much time on Lariel's or Tessa's internal monologues and not enough on actual action. I would have liked to use the first person point of view, but that's not really workable when you have to switch perspectives to other characters. My Weekend Novelist book tells me that beginners shouldn't try multiple protagonists, but I can't help it. The story started out being about Lariel (who is older in most of the book), but then Tessa just had to draw more and more attention to herself. She most certainly won't leave. That would never do. But I highly doubt Lariel will either. ::sigh::

Oh, and one more worry -- this beginning sets a rather light tone, but it's not going to be a light book. In fact, the more I think about how to answer the question, "What is it a story about?" the more I think the answer is slavery, and its effects on my fantasy world in general, and my main characters in particular. (Note to self: need to do more research on our world's current slave trade and its effects.) So... is this false advertising? =) I suppose it's okay -- part of the reason I'd been wanting to write a scene like this is because you have to show happiness and such for the reader to feel its loss with the characters. Hmmm....

Critique, answer my questions, please. Or I'll have to throw oatmeal at you, and you don't want that. Messy, and I won't sweeten it with honey, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

Sublime Elephants?

This story is long, long overdue. It started in Flinters, as a challenge from the Gryphon. That is, it started in a writing group, with a challenge from Liz. But... I think I'll write about that after the story, so that those of you who don't know about it won't know what's going to happen... yes. Hmm.


Once upon a time, in the southern lands of Kehashi, there was a tiny kingdom with the sea on one side, and much larger kingdoms surrounding it on the others. The only reason it had not yet been gobbled up was that it was a very poor kingdom, and no one particularly wanted it. It lacked even a decent harbor, for cliffs rose all along its coast.

One day, however, the king and queen had a daughter, who grew up to be a gorgeous princess. It so happened that while she was growing to be beautiful and desirable, one of the neighboring kingdoms was growing to be more and more powerful. When it came time for her to marry, this neighboring king decided that, as he was so powerful, it would be no trouble at all to conquer this tiny little place and take the princess for himself. It would be a good exercise for his troops, a bit of easy fun -- almost like a holiday. He could have asked for her hand in marriage, but where would be the fun in that? Besides, their king had a reputation as a stuffy do-gooder, and he had a feeling his proposal would be rejected, though it mean the destruction of the kingdom. Might as well dispense with the intermediary step, not to mention the bride price.

And so it came to pass that the evil king marched a portion of his army, with his war elephants, across the little kingdom to the castle on the cliffs by the sea. It only took a day to travel across the land, but that was enough time for word to reach the castle before the army arrived. There was little they could do, but they gathered the farmers from the lands nearby into the walls, and tried to prepare for a siege as best they could, although they were afraid the walls would be quickly breached.

Soon there was no more to be done, and watchers on the walls reported dust on the horizon, such as many marching feet creates. They waited and waited, and the king, queen, and princess went to the walls to wait with the soldiers.

After what felt like days, although it must have been only an hour or two, the army had traveled up the broad gentle slope to the castle. They stopped at a distance, away from the archers, and a messenger bearing a white flag rode up to the gates. He boomed out, "His royal highness King Vilkav of Esten wishes to make his mercy known. Surrender now, and he will allow most of you to flee. Resist, and you will all be destroyed." The tiny kingdom did not like the sound of that. Well, there were a few hearts which lifted at the chance of escape, but overall it didn't sound like a very definitive promise, and they were not cheered. The king gazed at his wife and daughter and replied, "Allow me a day to think over this. Such a weighty decision should not be made lightly." The messenger laughed at him, said, "You have an hour," wheeled his horse, and rode back to the army. They were in no position to negotiate, and everyone knew it.

The king sadly said to his family, "I'm afraid we must surrender. They have elephants to break down our walls. Arrows will not stop them. And then they will kill us all. How can I ask that of our people?"

At this the princess shook her head violently. She was beautiful, but she also had the extreme luck of being wise and good as well. It is not often that so many gifts are bestowed upon one young person. But they'd been given to her, and so she said, "No, father. This man is evil, and he must be resisted. It is the right thing to do. And who are we if we only do what is right when it is easy and safe?"

The king gazed hopelessly at his daughter, unhappy to hear some of his own words coming back to him. "But daughter, can it be right to condemn so many to torture and death? We can resist, but what good will it do? Surrender must be the wise choice." He thought about adding, "And I am the king and you're just a little girl, what do you mean by advising me?" but rejected the thought as petty. Besides, this decision would affect her as well.

"They will fight willlingly, I am sure they will. We know of this king and his rule. He will kill and enslave all who are good. Our land will become a land of witches and goblins. We must fight him! If evil like this were always resisted, there could be a difference."

"But how, how?"

"Use the hour to prepare as much as we can and pray for the rest. Perhaps God will have mercy on us."

The king shook his head sadly, but took his daughter's advice, although he feared the destruction and pain to follow. It would not go easy on him or his people.

They prepared, and they prayed, and when the hour was over the messenger rode to the walls and they told him no. He was rather shocked, but took the news in stride nonetheless, and reported to his king. The king commanded his elephant handlers to spur the elephants into a charge. They were already geared for battle, wearing on their heads and chests armor with many spikes on which to batter battlements. The ground thundered as they came, and all in the castle braced for impact.

But then a miracle happened. For no apparent reason, still hundreds of yards from the castle, the herd divided and made to run on either side of the castle. It looked like water split by a rock in a stream, except the "rock" was invisible, for the castle was too far away still to be the rock. The entire herd ran past the castle to the cliffs it was built on, and charged off the cliffs into the sea, to fall with a great crash louder even than the thunder of their feet.

Everyone stared. The enemy paled, whispered of black magic, and fled. Those in the castle gaped and praised God. No one could ever explain what happened that day, but the tiny kingdom remained in peace and the princess married one of her countrymen. Generations later they allied themselves through marriage to another good (and larger) kingdom. They were assimilated into it calmly and with respect, gaining their protection. But the story was always handed down, from mother to child, of the day God Himself was their Protector.


Wow, it's shorter in writing than being read aloud... um. So, to continue what I was saying before the story, one of Liz' classes was discussing the sublime, and her teacher said that some things could never be sublime, like a herd of elephants charging over a cliff in the rain. And thus the challenge was born. Now, a few years later, I finally figured out what I wanted to write (although I forgot about the rain). I had thought about it off and on, but never quite grasped the plot I wanted... One night I had to go to bed early, and as I lay there and thought about all kinds of things, my mind came back to this and I finally got it. Next morning I had to wait for someone, and I wrote down much of it, in the car. Later in the evening I finished it. Later I read it to another writing group, they liked it, and I decided it might be done after all, despite a couple misgivings on my part. One: does it make sense to use elephants to break down castle walls? I guess so... maybe not all in one go, and maybe there would be a battering ram, I don't know... didn't research elephants more, although I would like to have. The writing group I read it to agreed that elephants can be very powerful and destructive. Number two: I don't like the princess advising the king. Or at least, not completely. It feels like I've made the king too foolish and his daughter too wise. I like the old to advise the young. But... ::shrug:: So, that was it. I'm really not at all sure that it reached the sublime, but I think otherwise it's alright...

Elsi meets her unicorn

Here and there I've been working on a story called, for now, Aedhira. I want to be kept accountable to keep writing, but most of what I have right now is either back story stuff or extremely rough, not yet to be shared. However, now, to prove that I really am writing... or something... I will post one very small scene. Names may be changed later. It's from quite a ways in, so it's a spoiler in a way, if one cares. Again, this is a rough draft, so critique (as much as you can when you don't know what's going on in the story... sorry...), but please keep that in mind. Oh, and, of course, I retain copyright.

Elsi’s face was aglow. “Tessa, it’s a unicorn!”

Tessa gasped. It was indeed. Elsi had not spoken for many years. If the Aedhira could heal her of that, she was grateful to them, despite their inability to give her what she herself lacked.

The unicorn and Elsi slowly approached each other, until they stood face to face. Tentatively Elsi reached out and embraced the unicorn’s neck. The unicorn made no move to stop her. Tears streamed down Elsi’s face, and she closed her eyes and hugged the unicorn tightly.

“And you,” a voice said, behind her. Tessa turned to see Tidhana standing there, watching. “When will you speak again?”

“Me? I speak. In several languages, in fact.”

“And yet you do not speak in any of them.”

Tessa paused. “Some things are too encompassing for a fake unicorn to heal.” She spoke quietly, out of her mood, but also to be sure Elsi, entranced with her unicorn, would not hear.

“Is that all we are to you?”

Tessa looked down, a little ashamed. “No, I know you are magical, and what you have done for Elsiana is beautiful, and very kind. But… it cannot help me. I know too much, I am too wise.” She laughed, devoid of humor.

Tidhana’s eyes were infinitely gentle. “Have hope. Things are not finished yet.”

Tessa was not sure how Tidhana could know that, but she let her walk away without trying to question her further. She was tired, and with her heart dead, why should she care about hope? There was a little life in her heart yet, true; but it was only just enough for Elsi. Some things just were. Hoping for anything different would not change a thing. She had gotten more than she had hoped for when the Kivan slaves had freed her, but then she had found herself still trapped, still dirty.