BraveWrite, Week 3

September 19th

She fears its gentle hands have found her again. It whispers in her ear all the things she shouldn’t to hear. The truth long gone, her heart long since battered, she welcomes the cold. It hollows her out. Vacant of emotion. It’s too late when she names it. #Depression

 

September 20th

In the state of #jejune, we were all consumed by our fables. We were a unique center whose storms were unlike any other. The Gods aimed for us, small and insignificant though we KNEW different. But then our eyes opened. We wore others’ shoes and heeded our empathy.

 

September 21st

Their trunks, china cabinet, and every nook and cranny served as a #cache for their precious items. The house seemed willing to burst at the seams with their collections. It was a glorified storage unit filled with the sentimental. She worried it would go up in flames

 

September 22nd

The world is full of the #esoteric. It haunts the realms of math and science. It teases everyone. But it belongs to the artists most of all. The ones who draw, paint, compose and write for themselves, hoping some will understand. They bare their hearts for acceptance.

 

September 23rd

Wanna know what I think? she asked all of a sudden.

What? His eyebrows raised above a curious gaze.

I think life is a marinade in which we all #marinate. It’s experiences, people, and choices are all the spices we added, She smiled and nudged him, Don’t you think?

 

September 24th

The clock chimed #twelve in the middle of the night and summoned the witch from her workings. Her feet bounced down the stairs, jostling the book she held in her arms.

Ah, there it is, she said while flipping through the aged pages. Clearing her throat, she began to recite.

 

September 25th

The abyss was #tempting, as always. It called to her in seductive whispers. It threaded its fingers into hers, holding her hand, pulling. Her shoulders drooped in defeat and matched the dark bags under her eyes. The image in the mirror wasn’t her so why continue?

Very Short Stories, Week 22

Good Monday morning! Or at least, I hope it will turn into one if it hasn’t yet.

My dreams were sweet and intoxicating, and kept me in bed longer than I’d like. But here I am with my very short stories.

Here you go!

 

September 10th

The tree lay on its side, but relatively intact. Winds from last night’s storm #uprooted its proud base, leaving it exposed to the elements. She wandered over to it in sun’s brilliant rays and mourned its fate to shrivel and decay.

But the tree didn’t give up.

 

September 11th

#Smoke tumbles off the burning logs, crawling slowly towards the heavens. The fire’s scent hangs in the air and spreads its warmth and fond memories. Leaves rustle underfoot and form a carpet on soon to sleep grass. The taste of Autumn is in the air, beckoning.

 

September 12th

Rain gathered behind the dam’s walls. Its angered waters licked and spilled over its confinement, taunting those in its way. Shouts were scarcely heard over the storm, ordering evacuation.

The police rushed to remove those in the city below, to beat the #floodwaters.

 

September 13th

The teachers blamed the #lunar eclipse but the students only wanted freedom. From rules and regulations. From homework and grades. From the rigors suffocating creativity. They longed to spread their wings and read from forbidden works.

Really, they wanted stimulation.

 

September 14th

I remember doing #somersaults on the ground. The grass wet or dry, but soft against my clumsiness. I remember it turned into flips in the air that ended badly, too. I remember the child in me who made the attempt despite the outcome.

Where did she go?

 

September 15th

His eyes were #amber and sweet like honey. They raked over her naked body, sending shivers across her skin. Tension rose between them in the still silence. The pure sexual energy demanded release.

If she were a lock, his kiss was the key to unleash both their passion.

 

September 16th

Her fingers fluttered like hummingbirds across the keys of the piano. It was the only thing betraying her #euphoric mood. With eyes shut and lips a thin line, no one thought she was anything but serious. The notes that rose and fell were uplifting, demanding. Like her.

Very Short Stories, Week 17

This past week has been amazing! It started off on a rocky foot, but I’ve managed to take the punches and bounce back.

My book is being edited again. No more excuses. I’m making the time and it’s moving fairly quickly since I’m eager to see it completed!

From the looks of things, I will probably self-publish, but I need to do some further research on it. I’ve had amazing alpha/beta readers, and Grammarly has helped me fix any other mistakes left unnoticed. Once it’s done, I’ll probably get them to do another read and hope it’s as polished as my hands could make it!

The Very Short Stories I’m writing, to me, have started to change since I use them as a sort of warm before I edit my novel. I’ve also allowed myself to play more than I normally do.

Plus, I’ve started adding my main character from my book, Vivian, to some of them to tempt. (Though who knows if that’s what it’s doing.) Those tidbits are more her past and backbone for her story. Thus, you get to see the antagonist, Dr Embridge, too.

Anyways, here they are! Hope you enjoy!

 

August 6th

Kisses burn

With passion’s flame

Spreading

Spreading

like #Wildfire

to her core

now fire herself

She threatens to consume

Him

and his body

Satisfy a woman’s needs

might cool

the heat

but embers catch

alight again

the Pattern repeats

until they’re One

in Lust’s hold

 

August 7th

Vivian’s eyes shifted colours, betraying her #emotions. The deep blues of the ocean formed in her gaze and she wept. Her sister, Ravenna, stared like an unmoving stone statue at her, cold.

Embridge’s voice called her attention, Deal with her, please.

Vivian’s world went black.

 

August 8th

The ocean spray reached for her white robes and dampened her hair before the early sun. The water kissed her pale feet, tugging at the fringe of her outfit. She heard it whisper, Join us….

But she couldn’t. The wet wilderness would #evaporate if she failed her task.

 

August 9th

Morning #glory grew beside the stone cottage. It climbed it, surrounded it like it had caged those inside. Flowers bloomed on its vines, dark violets and sapphires.

The young woman let out a calming breath and approached the only visible part of a door. Her knock rang out.

 

August 10th

Her body curved, dipped, and dived. Its subtle #peaks tempted him in every way. He grazed across her soft skin with the tip of his tongue until he reached the junction between her thighs. Tasting her sweet nectar, he groaned with need. Her moans encouraged him further.

 

August 11th

The walls were a bold #vermillion and screamed of hunger. Mind you, that could be the blood stains, he mused as he sat. As usual, he didn’t have to say a word for the waiter to bring him his meal. Thankful for the privacy, he pulled a thin blade from his pocket.

Gentle as a butterfly’s wing, he cut a sharp line an inch long in his human’s wrist. He used the crystal goblet he’d been given to collect it and licked the wound closed when he was done. Fangs appeared where his canines should be as he sipped the warmth of the blood.

 

August 12th

She wears a #shell to protect her thin skin. It’s lined with shelves filled with words collected through the day. At night, she sheds the second skin, dissects her collection. The sentences run on the treadmill of her mind until they are broken into every hurtful meaning.

Very Short Stories, Week 16!!!

Hey, guys! I can’t believe it has been FOUR MONTHS since I started doing the very short stories prompts on Twitter. It has kept me writing and challenged me in new ways.

The best thing I like about the #vss365 is it continually challenges my creativity and my ability to show rather than tell. Sometimes, I don’t deliver what I really want, but most of the time I really enjoy them!

My nephew has gone home and so it is time to settle back into a familiar routine that includes working on my manuscript. I’m prepping somemore tools to really help me get it to that polished level.

Anyways, I’ll keep this short. Here are my very short stories for the week!

 

July 30th

Birds of a feather #flock together, she told her daughter and ruffled her hair. You’ll be fine! I promise.

The daughter nodded and grabbed the familiar hand of her mother, worn with age. They walked down the gravel road of their drive way to wait for the school bus.

 

July 31st

The #Queen of Darkness reigned over nightmares and relished the sounds of screams. Pained wails bounced off the remains of her stone castle that night. The cries mingled with the smell of spilt blood to soothe her soul and she dreamed of red drops in the depths of depravity.

 

August 1st

The #cellar doors were smashed bits, surrounding the poorly lit opening. Its stairs descended into the pitch black with no end in sight. The flashlight shook in her hands but she clicked the light on. Cautious steps took her down the steps. The creaking echoed for miles.

 

August 2nd

#Familiar hands clasped hers, warm and soothing. But she didn’t hear his words. She’d vanished into a funeral in her mind’s eye, surrounded by fragrant flowers and the tears of the mourning. The coffin before her was made of oak, strong and sturdy like her father had been in life.

 

August 3rd

It’s a tough lesson when it comes to #sacrifice, the teacher said. His high school students sat there, bored but silent. Their gaze weighed on his shoulders and he breathed deeply. You see, certain jobs have more risks than others. They require a willingness to give and not get.

 

August 4th

Stars shimmered in the night sky like glitter on a black cloth. The pale face of the moon was absent, waiting rebirth the next night. She moved the telescope slowly, hunting for a different celestial body. Aha! She exclaimed as #Jupiter came into focus. Just beautiful!

 

August 5th

The #Empress stood still and silent, an observer of her husband’s power. Her role was nothing more than to enhance his presence.

She loathed him for it.

Her eyes roamed the army til they spotted her soldier. His attire shone in the light. Memories of his touch tempted her again.

Very Short Stories, Week 15

Good morning, friends! Couple things to share today…

This week, My hubby and I are taking one of our nephews to stay with us. There’ll probably be some Pokemon Go and Harry Potter: Wizards Unite. Swimming, splash pads, day trips. Or maybe a more lazy week with in home reading and crafting. Who knows!

Because of this, I will most likely be absent from my blog and less active on Twitter (if you follow me on there; if not, here’s me! @KEMwriting ). There’s no point trying to guarantee blog posts when I’m going to be focused on having fun and laughs with my nephew!

It also means little editing will be done on my book. I plan on making time for it since the writer’s life for me will eventually mean children of my own. This will be a great way to figure that aspect out more.

While I’m off for a week of joy and adventures, I hope this week is fulfilling for the rest of you! Take care!

Oh, and enjoy my very short stories just below!

 

July 23rd

This is #folly, she cried and barrelled out the open window of the train compartment after her friend. She heard a splash seconds before cold water surrounded her, pulling at her limbs. Unbuttoning her heavy clothes, she sprung to the surface and sought out her friend.

 

July 24th

Such a waste of time, she determined and slammed her laptop closed. What a #joke, thinking I could be a writer. She tossed her USB across the room and left it there like a piece of forgotten trash.

 

Pick me up now, it seemed to say from the floor. We’re not done yet.

 

July 25th

Vivian stepped out of her room and the black dress clung to her body like a wet glove. A hesitant smile played on her lips as she descended the staircase. In front of Damian’s hungry gaze, her cheeks turned scarlet.

 

His kiss was sudden yet she #answered it with passion.

 

July 26th

Give ’em #hell, his dad said and tapped his gloves.

He entered the cage to the roars of the crowd and threw his arms up high with his own shout. Pacing back and forth, he watched his opponent. They approached each other, knocked fists and squared up.

The bell rang.

 

July 27th

What’s your #intent with my son? she asked. Her legs were crossed, hands rested on her knee.

I plan on making him happy til the end of my days, he answered and smiled. He fiddled with the ring box in his pocket.

That settles it then. You have my blessing, she grinned.

 

 

July 28th

Do you get it yet?

I want You gone

Disappear

Vanish

Into a Darkness

only You can

Summon

Tired of cruel whims

that Sabotage my attempts

You’re a bad taste

Lingering

Unwanted

I #renounce You

and Your Tainted Touch

Vilify

Condemn

Your Traitorous ways

 

Goodbye, Reflection

 

 

July 29th

#Stray dogs littered the streets; unwanted and untended. She shook her head at the sight until a wet nose kissed her hand. Smiling, she stroked the ragged pup and it demanded belly rubs. I can’t save them all but I can save this one, she mused and took it home with her.

Time is My Enemy

Last week, I mentioned I was really excited to start editing/revising my book again. And I was. Honest.

However, I didn’t touch it. Not even once.

Instead my time was consumed by starting a freelance transcription job and a paper route. I was anxious about the flyers being delivered, and waited until they showed up on both Tuesday and Wednesday. For no real reason.

Wednesday night, I started delivering the flyers and my husband helped me after I had started. Thankfully he did, because there was no way I was getting it done on my own! As I type this, my feet still hurt and I think I did something to a nerve in my right leg ’cause it ‘shivers’ randomly.

Needless to say, I have quit the paper route.

My time needs to be focused on my book more than anything else, and it is tough to do that when I’m stressing out about other things. Plus, the route was something I wanted to do by myself, but the size of it makes that impossible which means I’d always need Andrew’s help. That isn’t fair to him.

The transcription job is a different beast. It is something I choose to do on my own time, but I wanted to see how feasible it is. Now, even with a wonky left ear (lately), I’ve managed to transcribe pretty well, and my metrics (which focus on accuracy, formatting, and commitment) are very good for the time being.

What sucks is how time consuming it is to do a short audio clip. Decent audio quality doesn’t take too long until you factor in the speakers and whether they are formulating clear sentences or not.

Still, everything I’m transcribing seems to be interesting and I’m learning in a way I did not expect. I’ll keep going at it, but…

My husband has made it pretty clear that my time should be spent on my book, and transcribing takes a second place to it. Which was super nice to hear.

Sometimes, I mess up my priorities based on what I think he wants me to be doing. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I do need to put myself and what’s best for me first from time to time.

Anyways, moral of this story is… I WILL be editing my book this week or so help me, I’m gonna lose my freakin’ mind!

Take care of yourselves, everyone!

 

My Book: Done (?)

Keeping to my promise, I finished the sixth round of editing/revising on my book and I’m super stoked about it! Now, I have to let it sit for a few days before combing over it once more (plus, waiting for one of my initial reader’s to give feedback on how I used their feedback).

I managed to do five chapters last night which left me with three to do today. The need to finish kept me working on it and it is going to be nice to actually relax today (as best as I can). Now, is it actually done? Probably not. I don’t think books are every really finished, we just hit a point where we’re not sure if we’re helping or hurting our own creation.

So for now, I’m going to enjoy feeling I’ve finished it and maybe treat myself to a foot soak, or CANDY! Who knows?

The energy I’m feeling can only lead to good things right now. Kind of like the Felix Felicis poition in the Harry Potter series (yes, I’m a Potter nerd, deal with it!).

I’m going to prep some query letters since I have researched literary agents a few dozen times now (or so it feels). Double checking since it has been a few months wouldn’t be a bad idea though so… I’ll be doing that, too.

Anyways, that’s my update for the day! Keep creating your heart’s desire, my friends!

Don’t be seduced into thinking that that which does not make a profit is without value.

~ Arthur Miller

 

P.S. If any of you successful writers have published a book, give a girl some tips, please! Be it on self-publishing or the ‘traditional’ route, I’d love the insight on the obstacles or victories you had. Thanks in advance!