LYCANTHROPY

As of January 21st, 2010, The Marradith Ryder Series will reach its one year anniversary as a web serial on FitD. To celebrate, our new contest will feature Ryder’s favorite creature: Werewolves!

These stories can be about the traditional ruthless beast we know, or some new variation of the beloved Wolf. Make your monster scary, be creative, and surprise us with solid storytelling and unexpected twists. Enthrall us from beginning to end and you’re on your way to winning.

The word limit will be bumped up slightly to 1,200.

The LYCANTHROPY CONTEST will run from January 21st to March 21st, 2010.

There will be PRIZES to the winners, to be announced later.

...and I should write 5 or 8 of those today...

A Word!

florilegium \flor-uh-LEE-jee-um\ noun
: a volume of writings : anthology

Example sentence:
This florilegium of British poetry up to 1760 includes the classics that we have all come to love along with a few relatively unknown gems that are sure to delight and inspire.

Did you know?
Editors who compile florilegia (to use the plural form of today's word) can be thought of as gathering a bouquet of sweet literary blossoms. English speakers picked up "florilegium" from a New Latin word that derives from Latin "florilegus," which can be translated as "culling flowers." In fact, "florilegium" initially applied to a collection of flowers, and later to books about flowers, but it wasn't long before the word began to be used for (as the Oxford English Dictionary puts it) "a collection of the flowers of literature." And "florilegium" isn't the only English collecting term with a floral heritage; its synonym "anthology" comes from the Greek word for "flower gathering."

Have you guys seen this? South Park GRRM

No, I don't think he's serious about the "cast for his show" thing. I just think the pictures are adorable.

Looking for webserial listings, I found this

This part in particular made me think...

Almost every writer I know has a muse. Most of them even know what their muse looks like. The classical figure of a man or woman in early Greek clothing is popular as are fairies. Some are more entertaining. I know one author who imagines her muse to be a tiny winged cat and another whose muse looks an awful lot like her ex husband...


While I'l talk about my muse, it's more of a mood or a place, never a person, a particular sort of insanity that brings worlds to my mind.

I've heard writers refer to their muses as people, but I guess I never thought it was all that common.

I'm stuck.

Digaaz asked me to write more, and I will, but... well, I'm not really sure what comes next; what do they want to know of her?

Help!

I was really going to write a new poem, I swear. But it just didn't happen.

I have a letterpress class, and I need to print a broadside, and I want it to be something of my own work.

And I'll need to pick a graphic

What do I want to do?

http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/tag/poetry

There's some options.

http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/31614.html might be short enough.

I could probably set 100 words. But 50 words would be even easier.

Thoughts?!

...yeah, that was another journal, but everyone who reads altersprig (all three of ya) read this as well.

So... Pyroautomator"

from the Seventh Sanctum Generators

1633 words. I may be able to rough-finish story 1 tomorrow, at which point I will post Rat-Catcher for your amusement.

This doesn't count towards my NaNo word count, 'cause it's not going anywhere... unless someone can help me make it go somewhere.

I was immersed in the Ambrai (Exiles) series by Melanie Rawn for a week-plus, and that colours the writing here.

( Read more... )

I wrote the history for Cheyenne last week, and then sort of chewed on it until I realized I really wasn't done with it.

This is the beginning of a much longer history, which picks up newar the end of the original

( Read more... )

After matociquala:

Todays' words that MS Word's spellcheck doesn't recognize include:

rictus

&

ichor

I'm thinking, in the fine tradition of A Raisin in the Sun, by Lorraine Hansberry (from A Dream Deferred, by Langston Hughes) and Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck (from "To A Mouse," by Robert Burns) of calling this piece Midnight Cigarette. I like The Burning End, too, but it sounds too much like an unpleasant STD.

I believe I have found my mojo again. This pleases me endlessly.

More to come later, though no promises on length or publishability.

Lyrics...

Whiskey Lullaby
Brad Paisley

She put him out,
Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.
She broke his heart.
He spent his whole life trying to forget.

We watched him drink his pain away
A little bit at a time.
But he never could get drunk enough
To get her off his mind.
Until the night...

He put the bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
He finally drank away her memory.
Life is short
But this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.
We found him with his face down in the pillow.
With a note that says I’ll love her till I die.
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby.

La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la

The rumors flew
But nobody knew How much she blamed herself.
For years and years
She tried to hide the whisky on her breath.
She finally drank her pain away
A little at a time.
But she never could get drunk enough
To get him off her mind
Until the night...

She put the bottle to her head and pulled the trigger.
And finally drank away his memory.
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees.
We found her with her face down in the pillow.
Clinging to his picture for dear life.
We laid her next to him beneath the willow.
While the angels sang a whisky lullaby.

'Kay... what am I rough finishing this weekend?

What am I writing next?

Which of the longer could-be-a-novel pieces would you like to see serialized into an ongoing story?

Three questions:

In Fleur, is Sayi a boy or a girl? (Sayi is Learhene's going-to-be-mate-when-older)

In Toast... I'm thinking that, in order for the ending to have a little more punch ("Some things, it seemed, you really did have to be drunk to see."), Anavar should reach some understanding about Tiava before he follows her up Helix road. But I'm not sure that's flogging a dead horse. What do you think?

If I were to write a sword-and-sorcery style short story (say, to submit to Sword & Sorceress anthology), what would it be about? I'm lacking inspiration here...

So talk to me about magic.

What sorts of magic have you seen/read/played with in games, in books, in movies, that you thought was cool?

What do you not see enough of?

What powers and tricks are the neatest?

What passions and magics together intrigue you?

After a conversation with my Dragon-Prince last night (and that's a good series; I should read more of them), I started thinking about adult books vs. Adult books.

I had originally indented intended (where is my brain today?) (see recent porn) to make this series I'm planning Adult books. But the more I thought about it, the more I've decided I'm going to save the pronny pron pron for short stories and other markets, and keep the Katarina series (need a working title... "Full Bloom" is the only suggestion so far) a little more accessible.

(I know I can't spell. IE does not have the spellcheck built in that Firefox does).

The Dragon pointed out that college leads to a variety of "adult" themes... not just porn. However, when I referenced George RR Martin's series as "adult," he seemed to feel that, despite piles on piles of bodies he stacks up, that those are appropriate books for teens.

So the question is, aside from pronny pron pron ,which I have other reasons to avoid, what, in your mind, makes a story "Adult?"

My muse is sitting in a valley in a place that never existed, so I suppose I needs must follow her there.

In a valley a thousand years and more ago, a place that continued only in imagination and memory, there was, for a few moments, and few months, peace.

Neither of them was suited to it, to the quiet and tranquility and the autumn that hung like a threat over the late summer air. Neither of them fit in this lush little valley lined with oaks, its quiet little stream bubbling.

Nothing happened here. For days, weeks even, it had been a pleasant interlude, a holiday from the war they were hiding from. The war would take months, years to get here; maybe it would never come.

But they were immortal and, what's more, they were not bread for peace. He paces the length of the valley when they weren't making love, and she climbed the trees, taller than anything in her native savanna, and stared at the hilly sylvan horizon.

Harry Potter. Anita Blake. Harry Dresden... Potterverse, Anitaverse, Dresden files.

Aside from literary similarities and (possibly) audiences (they have to have at least some of the same audience: I at least have all three on my shelves), these books have one thing in common - they're all commonly referred to by their main character's name.

Names are important, and I'm just not very good at them (reference Talitara, the name I built by stacking syllables on each other, or Malla Malahe, Ketere, and every other name I came up with by picking sounds). Thus, my name-my-character contest.

Suggest a name. Blatantly silly names will be deleted and the posters denied cookies. The name will go with the character attached to these stories (l.i.n.k., and the one I will hopefully be posting later tonight) and should be reasonable for a girl born in the late seventies to slightly eclectic parents (be reasonable. While I'm sure there's lots of Moonglow Flowerchild children of the 70's out there, my parents count as eclectic sorts, and I got a reasonably standard name with non-standard reasons) - it should also be something readers will be able to pronounce and remember, the major problem with my normal choices in names.

Suggest also a prize for the winner of this contest - again, be reasonable. I'm willing to suggest a signed copy of the first thing of mine published & paid for, but you might be waiting a while. I'm also willing to suggest a cookie, or homemade muffins... come up with a real prize, wouldja?

Summary:
Suggest a name (or several) for my what-if-it's-all-real Modern Fantasy series (currently in concept form)

Suggest also a prize for the winner of the Name-the-Girl contest.

Wrong journal. C'est la vie. :-)

( agnomen )

This is from floatingtide, commenting in truepenny's entry titled Eleven things I will serve my best never to put in a fantasy novel unless I am trying to undermine them, and in fact could do without entirely from now on, thanks, in specific, responding to #8:

8. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL.



Re: #8

Today I'm much more fed up with the overly righteous than I am with nineteen-capital-Es-Evil.

I should go put my badly-sewn trousers on my "lithe body" and seek out an Orb that will defeat goodness.


Now I have a new idea to write from!

(no, I don't know either of these people. I found the link on my lissadora friends list and followed)

I want to write an elaboration on this.

First Part here.
Second Part Here
Third Part here.

edited, changed
From a glittering ring of light and suspended silver, the Gate pulled open, as if the view of the Torrent world was simply a curtain, slowly being lifted. Ahead of us was the Isle Lliasan, with its perfect glittering spires, its daunting cliffs, and the Impossible Falls, where the River Taniush plummets 5000 shining feet into the Sea. This was the most difficult part of the voyage, and of the Song, as I coaxed the boat into its true form, and Oro and Dui into their forms as crew of the little ocean-going sailboat.

The palace is a beautiful and impressive sight, especially the first time you see it from the Sea. The twin spires reach up into the clouds, seeming to go up as high as the Falls drop,
and the castle itself is set into the cliffside, a massive edifice with carvings on every exposed surface. Around and up one spire is carved (although some say he petrified there, I don't believe it) a long, sinuous dragon, through which at least two staircases run; most of the other carvings tend to be leafy and arboreal, making the huge stone building seem light and feathery.

At the foot of the cliff is the harbour, where the fleet is docked. Although the fleet is by no means small (we are, after all, an island nation), it is dwarfed by the cliff itself and by the palace.

If my passengers reacted, I did not hear them. My ears were stoppered with the Song, as Oro and Dui guided our little craft to the harbour.

I think they were holding their breath, my guests - the Sea is turbulent, especially near the base of the Falls, and our boat is small - because there was the sound of a collective exhale behind me as the Danny Boy bumped against the dock. Although the tiniest of the fleet, it has a place of honor, next to the Queen's schooner and near the tall, tall stone doors that lead to the stairs up to the castle. Legend says that when my people first walked out of the sea, the doors and the stairs were already there. At the very least, they are unbreakable, timeless, and, in their inscruitible carvings, enigmatic; they are also breathtaking, the first time you see them or the hundredth.

Yeh and Safi stepped out onto the dock, and I followed, turning to look at our guests.

(***and here, I get stuck. Reactions are always the hardest; I know what MY reaction would be to this place, not anyone else's***)(**More will come later. J-o-J gave me homework and I am working on it ;-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Terms I threw in there that I'm not sure what to do with:
* Torrent vs. Sea
* blood-of-my-ancestors

Other stuff:
* "soaked despite the oiled leather coat... ??" I don't like this bit
* do I need four, or is three good? Do I want to work a female in?
*** I dunno. Does there need to be more convincing? Do they go onto the boat too quickly? ***
* I started this in first-person and I hatehatehate writing in first person. Thinking of doing
the 1st person as a prologue and then doing the rest in third-person (semi)omnicient. Thoughts?
* How tall is Niagara Falls? How tall is the tallest Falls in the world?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain is Something You Work Through

We were playing Space Heroes (Chicken) with his dog, and it bit him. Twenty years later, I can still feel my confusion, how a small thing like a bleeding gash could stop him. His tear-streaked face didn't fit my comprehensions. I couldn't understand that (or why) the game was over.

"Lumos."
"Shit!" The wand shattered into a thousand splintery pieces and Muriel sagged despondently. Nothing she tried had any better results - water-logged explosions of fizzled magic, every time. Her mother had said this would happen; stubbornly, Muriel kept on trying. Now, however, splinter-stabbed, she finally acquiesced:
Mermaids can't be wizards.

The perfect blue
is barely visible behind
tattered white clouds.
The storm will come later;
right now, there is calm
and sunshine,
behind shabby clouds.