Wordless Wednesday 2/26/14

Wordless Wednesday

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Weekend Writing Warriors: February 23, 2014

Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns, and anyone else who wanders in.

Weekend writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.

Snippet Sunday group from facebook--not us, but many of our participants do both, can be found HERE 

This is from a WIP, a fantasy story. Working title is: "Taydan: Child Denied"The ruler, Deamante, has just become a father.  The unthinkable has happened--the child was born unacceptable, and Deamante believes this is because the new mother, his mate Rella, cheated on him. The healer asked Deamante if he wants to do away with it. "It" being the newborn. He said yes, but wants to wait to make it public.  He left, along with the healer and the aides, leaving the two women alone in the birth  room. Crinda, Rella's sister, just told Rella that they have to go (to safety NOW). Rella is in denial that her mate will harm her, but accepts that he would kill the newborn. This is now in Crinda's POV.  To see a compilation of snippets previously posted from this chapter, click HERE. 

Creative punctuation warning. 

One more week after today, and the first chapter is finished. Thank you all so much for reading  it and sharing ideas and encouragement. :-) 

It took all the will that Crinda could muster to let go of Rella and focus on the urgency of the situation.

Rella's long lashes glinted wet from the tears she tried to blink back. "Please take care of him, and keep him away from his father." She kissed his pale-pink, baby cheek and said, "I love you Tayden." 

Crinda took The baby out of his mother's arms and said, “I have to go; Deamante's henchman will be here any minute.”  Wrapping him in folds of her shawl, she turned away from the bed, away from the look on Rella’s face—a jumbled mixture of determination, resignation, and loss. Crinda couldn't afford any distraction; her sole purpose now was saving her tiny nephew. Willing away fear and grief, she grasped at stoicism, the best she could hope for; she’d need it to walk away from her little sister, sure she’d never see her again.

That's it. What jumps out at you, good or bad, I'd love to hear. And I'm truly grateful for every bit of criticism; I do learn from it. Have a great week, everyone, and if you are in colder climes, stay warm. :-)

Weekend Writing Warriors Januray 16, 2014

Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns, and anyone else who wanders in.

Another week of snow and cold here in North Eastern USA. It's good writing weather, though.
 
Weekend writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.

Snippet Sunday group from facebook--not us, but many of our participants do both, can be found HERE

  This is from a WIP, a fantasy story. Working title is: "Taydan: Child Denied"The ruler, Deamante, has just become a father.  The unthinkable has happened--the child was born unacceptable, and Deamante believes this is because the new mother, his mate Rella, cheated on him. The healer asked Deamante if he wants to do away with it. "It" being the newborn. He said yes, but wants to wait to make it public.  He left, along with the healer and the aides, leaving the two women alone in the birth  room. Crinda is Rella's sister. Crinda just told Rella that they have to go (to safety NOW). Rella is in denial that her mate will harm her, but accepts that he would kill the newborn.  Crinda speaks first. This is now in Crinda's POV.  To see a compilation of snippets previously posted from this chapter, click HERE. 

In the answering silence, Crinda added, “The glass. The bones.”

Rella’s voice was low and oddly composed when she answered. “The auguries are wrong; I have to stay. But you can do it--you can slip the baby out of here and take him to safety.”

They were out of time. Defeated, Crinda accepted what she must do. Sliding her  hands to cradle Rella’s face, her gaze lingered for unaffordable seconds, a last fleeting glimpse to register the beauty, the goodness, and the love that existed in her baby sister.

That's it. What jumps out at you, good or bad, I'd love to hear. And I'm truly grateful for every bit of criticism; I do learn from it. Have a great week, everyone, and if you are in colder climes, stay warm. :-)

Weekend Writing Warriors: February 9, 2014

 

Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns, and anyone else who wanders in.

The week of sweethearts. I was going to shift to another part of the book so I could quote from a sweet scene, but was afraid I might disappoint you guys. So from last week.
 
Weekend writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.
  This is from a WIP, a fantasy story. Working title is: "Taydan: Child Denied"The ruler, Deamante, has just become a father.  The unthinkable has happened--the child was born unacceptable, and Deamante believes this is because the new mother, his mate Rella, cheated on him. The healer asked Deamante if he wants to do away with it. "It" being the newborn. He said yes, but wants to wait to make it public.  He left, along with the healer and the aides, leaving the two women alone in the birth  room. Crinda is Rella's sister. Crinda just told Rella that they have to go (to safety). Now.  Rella speaks first. This is now in Crinda's POV.  To see a compilation of snippets previously posted from this chapter, click HERE. 

"Rella shook her head while she said, “He won’t hurt me, Crinda. He loves me, but the baby isn’t safe.”

She didn't know how to get through to her sister. The cold bastard wasn't going to limit his execution to just the child; he was going to kill Rella too. There  were precious few moments to make an escape. Still, she had to try to make Rella understand a grave truth of life; when people kill for the sake of love, sometimes it's the very person they love who ends up dead. With only inches separating their faces, Crinda insisted, “He will do more than hurt you, Rella.  You have to leave now.”

That's it. What jumps out at you, good or bad, I'd love to hear. And I'm truly grateful for every bit of criticism; I do learn from it. Have a great week, everyone, and if you are in colder climes, stay warm. :-)

Waiting For an Event

The crispness of the seventeen degree air as I stepped outside this morning was a blunt reminder that it's winter. The snow has come and gone again, except for where old man winter's gale gathered great drifts and heaps of it. Ice remains where foot or paw trampled wet snow. Soon, so soon, it will be replaced by ferns and dame's rockets. And soon, raucous spring birdsong. And the improved quality of the light reminded me that spring is just around the corner. Spring...
     Walking to my car, my eyes were drawn to the valley below, and at the trees lining the creek. Softwoods all, their tops illuminated by a hazy sun still hanging low, were anything but a picture of winter bleakness. There was a silvery look to the bottom of the "hollow", and a beautiful silence in the air.
     It stopped me in my tracks. Inhaling slowly and deeply, I absorbed the moment. Or several as it turned out to be. How could I dash away, as if nature had not set this stage before me?
     A veil of pewter-gray rose off of Rough Run. I could see it happening in my mind's eye. The "crick" ice covered for the most part, but misting where the water moved too fast to freeze, and the big rock on the edge of the water at the corner of the property where a Wild Juneberry Tree hangs half way across the creek. The corner of the rock juts up as if a mighty hand jammed it at an angle, into the swift moving water. A splendid place to go in the summer--and this morning, a splendid place to go in my mind. I marvelled at just how sublime nature is.
     I was a long way off from the hoarfrost covering every little twig and tip of every tree, every little weed and black willow in the valley, but I pictured it, each delicate crystal stacked on top of other equally delicate crystals. So fragile, all it takes is a warm breath of an exhaled, "Wow..." for them to vanish.
     And the inner logic kicked in, as it usually does. I thought about the hoarfrost crystals. And I recalled the answer to a question I posed years ago in my youth. In my youth...Definitely years ago...
     I'd wondered how mist, or a fog can drift around in the air, in liquid form (tiny beads of water) when the weather is below freezing. That was the beginning of  my understanding about crystals. That water is liquid when it "steams" up into air. When water that is even marginally warmer than the sub-freezing air around it sends water droplets into the air, they drift around until they have an "event". In the case of hoarfrost, the droplets drift around until they have a collision with a tree branch, a weed, or another crystal. That event is the catalyst for crystal formation in the below freezing air. So those droplets are waiting for an event.

     I derailed my train of thought and continued toward my car. And as I drove to work, I realized that my mind was far, far from spring thoughts. I was noticing the glorious winter sights around me while I drove.  And the thought occurred to me that I had left the house this morning, waiting for an event. My thoughts had so readily turned to spring. But the hoarfrost on the softwoods in the valley had brought me back to the moment, to the world around me, not dreaming about what was coming just around the corner. Instead, I was lost in the present.
     I don't mean that it's wrong to look ahead, to enjoy upcoming events, occasions that bring joy (like springtime), but there is something to be said for searching out the beauty and the joy in the present moment. We can't spend our entire lives waiting for an event.
    
     

Weekend Writing Warriors: February 2, 2014

 

Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns, and anyone else who wanders in.
Thanks everyone for flip-flopping around to accommodate our site maintenance. We're all good and back on track now. We have a few little changes coming up, but nothing that will affect site use. Just some things we've been planning to make wewriwa.com a more useful tool for our participants. More about that to come in the next several weeks.
Weekend writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.
 
This is from a WIP, a fantasy story. Working title is: "Taydan: Child Denied"The ruler, Deamante, has just become a father.  The unthinkable has happened--the child was born unacceptable.  The air is thick with tension as the moments following the birth tick by. The healer asked Deamante if we wants to do away with it. "It" being the newborn. He said yes, but wants to wait to make it public. He believes he's been betrayed by his mate. He left, along with the healer and the aides, leaving the two women alone in the room. Rella is the new mother, and Crinda is Rella's sister. To see a compilation of snippets previously posted from this chapter, click HERE. 

Using the corner of a blanket, Crinda dabbed at the tears on Rella’s face.” “I believe you.”

Rella reached out and  grasped Crinda’s wrist, then her words tumbled out in a desperate stream, "I think he really will kill him. Please, help me.”

Crinda tried using her big sister voice, but it came out more a plea than a demand, “Neither of you are safe. You both must go. Now.”

That's it. What jumps out at you, good or bad ? I'd love to hear it and am truly grateful for every bit of criticism, opinion, and shared wisdom.  Thank you so much for visiting!  


The Facebook Snippet Sunday group (no connection to us, but many wewriwa participants do both groups, so as a courtesy...) can be found HERE