Posted in #STaD 2017, Blog Hops and Fests, Challenges and Contests, Enterprise fan fiction, Fan fiction, fantasy, Flash Fiction Pieces, Just for Fun!, Novel Excerpts, Short Stories, SoCS, Star Trek: Enterprise, Story a Day, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, The IDIC Romance, Weekly Features, Writers' Resources, writing, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

Hard News for #StoryADay/#SoCS

Hi there, and welcome to my joint #StoryADay/ Stream of Consciousness Saturday post.

The #SoCS prompt for this week is “vol.” I used three “vol” words, and a list of prompt words from a worksheet created by my friend and NaNoWriMo ML, Shannon Kauderer. Those are listed before the TnT drabble. I confess to editing that one to maintain the 100 word limit, so you can consider it a bonus if you’d like.

The first post is completely unedited.

I haven’t been posting my #StoryADay writing on a daily basis, but it fit so well here, I couldn’t resist. Learn more about StoryADay September 2017.

“You Have News” 

(Preparation for my upcoming Trueborn series epic fantasy series WIP, Solemates.)

“So, sister, you have news you have nay shared with me yet.”

Niaan might have been surprised, once, at the ease with which Rachyl discerned such things, when she had thought them camouflaged and safe from encroachment. But she was sitting on cushions beside a voluminous planting of sensates. She could nay read any but the most basic of the messages the plants made, but Rachyl tended to the plants as to dear friends, and they spoke to her even if she didn’t touch them.

“Are you going to tell it, or hoard it to yourself like you did that fur when you were seven sunrounds, and dragged it into the Great Hall, and would nay let any other touch it or take it from your jaws?”

“Nay – I will tell it. I want none of the flogging Mother gave me when I fell asleep with it.”

“As though I would flog you for simply being as you are, sister. Come, now, you know me better than that. Besides, your fangs are far sharper, and your Huntskills far stronger, than they were then. I value my skin too much to wish it punctured. Even more my breathsource and bloodsource, sister. So, if you will nay tell me now, I will wait on your choice, and hold to my own wonderings.” Rachyl sipped her tea sedately; as though nothing could ever disturb her.

Mayhap it could nay. She was a fine healer, and had been so since she was a child. It was she who had made and applied the salve after Mother’s flogging.

But, if there was that which could disturb her, it was like as nay the news Niaan had to share. It had been so long, near to her lifetime, and many tended to think she had only imagined it in some fever-sickness long past, and that she was merely a fool who chased after dartwings, and would nay release the dessicated carcass of a prey long since dead.

She set her drinking bowl on the flat rock beside her, and studied her sister closely for a moment. “Kaivelt is coming to me, Rachyl.”

Word Prompts for September 16, 2017:

  1. flaky
  2. bloody
  3. well-groomed
  4. bounce
  5. page
  6. cherry
  7. trick
  8. print
  9. embarrass
  10. brother
  11. prickly
  12. finicky
  13. bored
  14. domineering
  15. volatile
  16. voluble

Standard disclaimer:

I don’t own or profit from these characters.

The Hard Way

(Exploration for upcoming chapters of my Star Trek: Enterprise TnT fan fiction story, “Highly Classified Mission,” which is based on S2E7: “The Seventh.” All previous and subsequent Story A Day September Drabbles can (eventually) be found on my fanfiction.net page.)

Trip pokes at the flaky croissant, dips it in cherry jam – then puts it back on his plate, uneaten. He stares at the page on the PADD without really seeing it. The print swims; he still hasn’t slept.

Bored with playing a volatile, domineering tyrant so soon?” Malcolm doesn’t look tired enough. There’s still a bounce in his step. He’s well-groomed. “Too finicky for Chef’s breakfast, too, I see.”

Trip is prickly. Malcolm’s too damned voluble. Trip’s brother taught him well how to embarrass someone, and and Malcolm Bloody Reed’s about to learn a trick or two – the hard way.

Posted in Challenges and Contests, Enterprise fan fiction, Fan fiction, Flash Fiction Pieces, Just for Fun!, Short Stories, SoCS, Star Trek: Enterprise, Story a Day, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, The IDIC Romance, Weekly Features, Writers' Resources, writing, Writing in Freedom, writing prompts, Writing Samples

My Motive Is… Belated #SoCS and #StoryADay for 9/9/17

Hello there!

It’s been a busy week, and I’m capping it off with Tugboat Roundup – a two-day gathering of tugboats for competitions and camaraderie on the famed and historic Erie Canal. Today’s #SoCS posts were written on the fly there, as a matter of fact.

This week’s prompt is “motive”, used however we please. I chose to combine the prompt with my #StoryADay posts for today – with interesting results. One of this week’s prompts was to change the gender of the main character, and another was to “break the rules.” My first story is onesinglerunonword – there are no spaces to be found anywhere!

Standard disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, and do not profit from this writing.

“WithinMyOwnMadness”

YoureleasedmeTLysmyownorisitthatyouarenolongermyownwhatcouldbeyourmotiveinreleasingmeifyoutrulyaremyownorhasitbeentrueallalongthatyoudonotexistanywherebutwithinmyownmadness?

For the second story, I’m sharing my Star Trek: Enterprise TnT fan fiction drabble (a 100 word story). I used the SoCs prompt word and several more prompt words contributed by my fan fiction readers:

  • nimbus

  • plausible

  • savagely

  • forgetful

  • dismissive

  • fanatical

  • morph

“Who Is Jossen?”

T’Pol has no answers for her question, nor an understanding of her own motive in coming here. The nimbus of almost-memory remains; there is no plausible explanation for how savagely she had attacked the crates of plasma injecctors; how forgetful and dismissive of the dangers she had been.

All attempts to comprehend her fanatical behavior fail, nor can she release the question that consumes her:

Who is Jossen?

All attempts to answer morph into images of two men running, leaves slapping her face, the hands, the priest and the stone beneath her.

Who is Jossen?

She must learn the answer.

This post is a belated entry into Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday.

Wade in right  here!

Posted in Blog Hops and Fests, Just for Fun!, Life Writing, slices of life, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, Weekly Features

All Week Long for #SoCS and #weekendcoffeeshare

When it’s one thing after another, all week long, we’re looking at a bit of a jumbled up amalgam of Stream of Consciousness Saturday and #weekendcoffeeshare, because there’s not enough time or focus left in my day to do two separate posts, and tomorrow will come with another set of activities.

So, if we were having coffee now, I’d tell you that I’m fighting sleepiness on this Saturday night, after an extremely busy week…

Let me explain:

Recently, my Accomplice and I decided to cash in two modest investments, because we have business plans, but they require reliable vehicles – and we all require food, shelter, and clothing adequate for the weather. Finances have been precarious for over a year, and we had some sales, but not enough to move ahead after a long time of gradually losing financial ground.

With the investment capital in liquid form, though – we can do just what it suggests, and invest in ourselves, and our future.

And that’s what a lot of this week has been about.

We’ve purchased two used cars considerably newer and more reliable than our eldery 1998 Subaru Legacy Wagon, which was on the verge of almost literally falling apart. Jim now has a 2007 Forester in the shop for some repairs, and I have a vety sweet 2005 Outback. Since my 1998 Outback died on a local highway a few months ago, I’ve been missing having the freedom of my own car. More, our son will be 16 in a week, which means he’ll be eligible to get his learner’s permit – something he’s been looking forward to since he was 11 – and learning which would have had to wait if we still had a car that wasn’t suitable for his practice.

Both cars are blue. My favorite – and his. Also, the perfect color to go with the eventual magnetic signs for Chef Bluebeard’s Flavor Enhancement Sauces that will grace them, at least on market and event days.

We also used some of our newly liberated funds to purchase a few items to move the business into the next level, and allow us to be better organized as we move between markets and events in the months to come. Additionally, we purchased a three year subscription for a hosted WP website, and, in the coming days and weeks, I’ll be setting up the basics, so that Chef Bluebeard has a new online home in plenty of time for the holiday shopping season.

It’s all very exciting – but that’s not all that happened this week….oh, no, it isn’t.

Wednesday was our twentieth wedding anniversary. We went out to a local oyster bar Jim’s been wanting to eat at since he was looking for work and applied there in the winter, while the place was still being set up. It wasn’t the best fit for him, but the decision was made mutually and without rancor, and the owner recognized him, and even offered us champagne on the house. We don’t enjoy it, but it was a lovely dinner – lots of perfectly prepared asparagus, oysters of several varieties on the half shell, and crème brule and carrot cake to share.

We had a wonderful evening with a bit of walking to and from, and then, because we are parents and have other people to feed besides ourselves, we went grocery shopping on our way home.
It was a perfect day – and we’ll hang on to that for a while, even if the aftermath got a bit crazy…

Sometime in the night, Jim started having abdominal pain that intensified into a sharp lance when he breathed deeply or moved the wrong way. He thought he might have pulled a muscle while doing some sink de-clogging the day before, but then the pain intensified, and we decided a trip to the emergency room to find there was nothing really wrong, rather than risk a ruptured appendix or worse.

Turns out, after 5 hours, bloodwork, urine test, and an ultrasound, that his gall bladder has some “sludge” in it, and didn’t like the rich dinner as much as our taste buds did. He’s also got a bit of a fatty liver, so an MRI will soon be scheduled to be sure there’s nothing more serious going on there. He’ll need to be more conscious of his diet to avoid further aggravating his contentious gall bladder, too.

And now it’s Saturday, and our first weekend market is done. We have another tomorrow morning, and then another on Monday evening, before we get back to another four “rest” days (unless we decide to attempt to fit in a Thursday evening market several of our vending friends recommend).

If we were having coffee, I’d apologize if I bored or exhausted you with our week full of living, and for yawning so many times during the retelling of it.

Now, it’s your turn. What have you been up to this week? What do you have planned for the week ahead? Anything momentous, silly, or just part of your beloved routine?

Get another cup of #weekendcoffeeshare!

Float down the Stream of Consciousness Saturday!

Posted in Blog Hops and Fests, Kifo Island Chroincles, Novel Excerpts, SoCS, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, Weekly Features, Writing Samples

Empty Places for #SoCS August 19, 2017

(brand-new badge from J-Dubs)

 

Note: This post contains suggestions of adult material. PG-13.

Empty Places

Did she want to be alone? To live here, by herself, without Tim? Stay here, and not run off to Devin, asking him to fill the empty places inside her?

“Well, why not?” Her voice sounded strange in the room – different and more echoing without Tim’s things. Or was that all in her head?

So many questions, and really no answers. That was scary in the same way it had been every time she left the courtroom in her mother’s custody. She’d always known she’d end up back in the courtroom, then a foster home – and, sooner or later, back in another courthouse, leaving with her mother again, with no one asking her if that’s what she wanted, because it was cheaper for the state if she wasn’t a ward of it.

Maybe that’s why she and Tim had worked. He didn’t know anything at all about that part of her life, or how fast she’d been willing, once upon her time, to drop her pants for anyone who’d let her get in what was in theirs. It didn’t matter whether they were men or women – or even how many there were, sometimes.

It was only about the empty place. Only now, years later, did she see the truth.

She’d been trying to fill herself, exactly the way her mother had. Only, what she had done with sex, her mother had done with heroin.

She’d always blamed her mother for that, for the destructive addiction that had eventually killed her, and left Drea parentless. But she was the same. Her destructive addiction just hadn’t killed her.

But who was to say it wouldn’t, if she didn’t find a healthier way to fill the voids?

Will Drea find a way to heal her emptiness?

Who is Tim, and where has he gone?

What’s next for Drea?

This snippet comes from my novel-in-progress, The Last House, from my Kifo Island series. I expect to finish this draft by the end of the summer.

This post is my entry for Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consicousness Saturday (#SoCS), where the weekly prompt is “pant,” used any way we choose. To read more unedited stream of consciousnes pieces, click on our brand-new badge at the top of the post, or right here, for post listings.

Posted in Just for Fun!, Life Writing, Stream of Consciousness Saturday

Guess What? #SoCS for August 12, 2017

Note: This post feels a bit jarringly light and fluffy considering the events in Charlottesville, VA, today.  I debated not posting it – but I feel that there is a place for lighter, happy, thoughts…because we’re living, and because this world, this nation, needs more happiness, and far, far less hatred.

So, here it is, just the way I wrote it, in a moment when my own life was overflowing, and the weight of the violence done hadn’t fully sunk in yet.


Guess what? I’m getting here at the tail end of things tonight, because there are Big Things happening.

I’d love to go into deep detail…but I’m still in the midst of the Big Things, and there’s much left to be done even as I feel my eyes starting to droop, and my brain to go foggy. So, instead, I’m just going to leave you with an image that may or may not be related to the Aforementioned Big Things.

Hey, I’m a writer. Sometimes it’s good to keep folks guessing! =D

This post is my very brief, entry for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where this week’s prompt is “guess”, used however we wish. Click the link to visit other participants!

Sometimes peace and stillness is what we really need.
Posted in #8Sunday, A Round of Words in 80 Days, A Round of Words in 80 Days 2017, Challenges and Contests, Enterprise fan fiction, Life Writing, Novel Excerpts, Round Three 2017, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, WIPpet Wednesday, Writers' Resources, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

Growth, Diversely; August 6, 2017

Hey there!

Ever have lots of things you want to do – but only a couple of things Well, most of my week was spent between Chef Bluebeard’s Flavor Enhancement Sauces and homeschool administration.

Sometimes, that’s how things go. Most of “my own things” were set aside while I was occupied with those – but the admin is winding down now, until the next, less intensive round is due on December 1, and I’m getting closer to a point when I can put the business matters on more of a maintenance schedule….both of which will, obviously, allow more time for my writing and other projects.

If you’d like more details on the week just past, I’ve written and photographed bits and pieces of it in my #weekendcoffeeshare post.

So, though I didn’t get to many of my goals this week, I’m feeling good, because I’ve freed up more time to work on them through the rest of the month.

How do you deal with the times when life pulls you toward some things, and away from others you really want to dive into?

  • Trueborn Series: Add 3,333 words/week to Foul Deeds Will Rise (until draft completed). 1,120/3,333. Primary goal; some progress.

Mayhap there was something in that which she could learn from.

“But not this night, old one.”

“I am scarce a hand older than you, my little rabbit, my Kai.” It was a warm and welcome whisper in her ear, only for her, even with all the Tribed ears so near. Sparks leaped and danced.

“Nay – I speak to he who rests there,” she pointed to the pyre, and Xanaas’ body upon it. “He has earned respect, and his rest, and better than to have the Huntleader gone when it is his time for Final Welcoming.”

“I’ve been listening to stories, my Kai. It seems that he would far rather have you here, than the one called Tacivaar.”

  • Story A Day September: Choose themes for main stories (Solemates, my November NaNoWriMo project) and TnT fanfiction drabbles; plot to the degree possible. Put out general call for word prompt lists. In the simmering stage for the main stories. Primary goal; a bit of progress.

Trip might think he’d imagined the whole thing, or had the wrong Vulcan.

Except for the way she smelled. Her scent was even more potent than he remembered. It filled the small space, and it was definitely doing things to him that Jon would notice if he looked, and Trip sure as hell didn’t want to try to explain that.

Social Media:

  • JuNoWriMo blogpost drafts: Organize and schedule raw material for completion and revision. Spend 1 hour/ week on this project. No organizing, but a #writingcrew sprint gave me the idea for how to do it! Simmering. Secondary goal.

  • Other Platforms: Spend 3 hours/week with my Facebook Writer page; Instagram; and Pinterest, and Patreon. Continue with Twitter #writingcrew and #AllStarTrek sprints/chats regularly. Dabble in other social media (LinkedIn, Medium, Quora, Wattpad, etc.) 1 hour/week. 1/3 hours; mostly Patreon, for monthly post; one post each to Instagram and Facebook Writer page. Played a bit on Quora. Stretch goal; good early progress.

  • Unschooltending: Draft kids’ 2017-2018 IHIPs (Individualized Home Instruction Plans), due Friday, August 4, and draft fourth quarter reports (due September 15), since those are easier to do in conjunction with each other; submit Lise’s test results, which got lost in the hustle. IHIPs are submitted to school district. Reports are complete, pending final proofing, which will happen Sunday. Excellent progress.

  • Hometending: Complete 3 hometending sprints/day 5x/week; an additional sprint in all rooms except the kids’ (since they don’t want me in their rooms); and 3 yardtending sprints/week. 2/5 hometending sprints complete; study. Not the best week for hometending; the focus was on paperwork and business that took us away from home. Very modest progress.

  • Selftending: Spend time with my beloveds, friends, and myself; get at least one hour of physical activity 5x/week, and two hours of strenuous activity weekly (including Baby Steps to 5K); meditate and journal 8x/week. Carrying over from last month’s busy-ness. This month will be better for selfcare; I’m important, too! Activity 2/5; Strenuous: 1hr/6 min/2 hours. Meditate/journal 7/8. Moderate progress.

Kait Nolan’s ROW80 –

The Writing Challenge That Knows You Have a Life!

ROW Along, or Cheer Us On!
We’re on Facebook, too!

Farmer’s Market Table from July 31, 2017. Chef Bluebeard is open for business!
Posted in Blogfest Entries, Just for Fun!, Stream of Consciousness Saturday, Writers' Resources, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

A Music of Their Sorrow for #SoCS August 5, 2017

High above, the venting holes for the cookfires showed the stars. Niaan remembered a time when she’d lain on the ledge, demanding to see the stars. Kaivelt’s stars. Xanaas had stood for her, even against the Huntleader’s wishes, made walls of furs so that she could see, and still be warm and tended.

She’d dreamed of Kaivelt – but he was absent from her mind, now, as he sometimes was.

She needed him now, but he was out there somewhere circling a small yellow star on a planet called Earth, or Terra 3. Strange, faraway names. Would that world sing to him, as Aletris once had for her?

If the stars were lower, closer to the ground of her world, could she reach up, and dance her way back to Kaivelt, as she had when she was a child, and so was he?

Would they ever come together, truly?

“Huntleader?”

“I’m not your -” But she stopped herself. She couldn’t continue to refuse the name they’d given to her, or the role it assigned to her. Tacivaar was gone, stalking her as his prey. Shinjao was gone, off to seek what was needed for the days to come. Xanaas was gone to the End Hunt – or whatever awaited a healer who had served long and with compassion. Sylain and Teslyn did as much as they could – but they were not Hunters, and not Trueborn, and had not the knowing that came of all those lessons trapped in the stifling little room in Mother’s Keep, meant to make a Kai out of her while Vaara was hidden away in a forgotten chamber.

“I beg pardon of you, Huntleader -”

Teslyn’s voice was soft, hesitant – lost, as Niaan had never thought to hear it. They were all lost. The Tribeless who had escaped with their lives, and nothing more than those. The wounded, some of whom still might not live, even more so now that Xanaas did not.

All of the Pridekeep, lost, bereft of their Huntleader, so that they put her in his place, and made of her what they had need of from her.

“No pardon is needed of me, Teslyn. I beg mine of you. I heard the child’s missive, and did nay come.”

“I would I had nay need of you. Sleep is what Sylain says Xanaas ordered…but there is no other fit to light his pyre. I thought mayhap you would -”

“Yes. It will be honor to offer him his Final Welcoming.” She pried herself out of the nest. She could smell the fires, and the lingering scent of those Welcomed yesternight, and the two nights before. How many more nights, before there were no more dead to tend to?

She followed Teslyn to the entrance of the Pridekeep, wondering why her limbs felt like the heaviest of Osiraan’s branches.

She heard the Pride before she saw them. They made a music of their sorrow, with all notes woven into the tapestry. Her mind played with the thought of Rachyl weaving this song into patterns and colors – the borders the lowest of the moans and the highest keening wails….

This post is my entry for Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS), where the weekly prompt was “high/low.” It is a brand-new snippet from my novel-draft-in-progress, Foul Deeds Will Rise, part of my Trueborn series.