NANOWRIMO 2012

31 Oct
#NANOWRIMO  starts tomorrow. I never plan. I never plot. I flex the imagination a day or two before and then let my mind run wild. NANO isn’t about plotting or perfection. It despises the editing process. It’s all about freewriting and letting the imagination burn with new ideas.
My wrimo nickname is rockmybobbysocks Please feel free to find me and add me. For tomorrow… Tomorrow it begins.

“What is it you want?”
“To be free.”
“Free from what?”
“From them.” Dani pointed out of the dusty, stained window of the apothecary shop. Her family stood at the edge of an apple cart, her brother younger by only a year, pocketing apples, while her mother and father argue with the vendor.

“Are you sure? Once you do this, there is no going back” Magda held the small green bottle tight between her gnarled thumb and forefinger. The bottle glistened in the light of the candles placed strategically around the shop. each corner lit to mark like a compass. They stood at North.

“I can’t take it anymore. They won’t let me go. The pain is too much. I do everything they ask of me in the hopes that it will change.”

“There are other ways, child. I know what your father and brother do to you. I know what your mother allows. they can be punished. Why not go to the law?”

“It’s not enough. I want a guarantee. We are of noble blood. There is no justice for the bastard daughter being used in such a way.”

Magda snatched the bottle before it could slip into Dani’s hands and held it tight to her bosom. “I warn you child, ingest the contents of this bottle and you cross the line between good and evil. There is no place for your soul. You will wander for the rest of your life, poison to all mankind.”

“My life is over. What am I fit for? I fear I will end up birthing an incestuous bastard child of my father’s or brother’s. What will I do then? With an evil deformed child of incest!? Will you take that child, Magda!? What if it happens? What will i do? I’ll die! The child would be damned.”

“I see. So you do have a fear that is worse than your own fate.” Magda took the small pieces of copper from Dani and handed her the bottle. “Ingest it now so I may know that you do not slip it to another.”

Dani took the bottle in her shaking hands, took a deep breath and popped the small cork. She downed the hot, tart liquid and winced as it burned fire down her throat.

“Here.” Magda handed her a cold earthenware mug. “Drink this. It will sooth the burn.”

Dani drank the strangely sweet milk in one gulp and sighed at the peacefulness that overcame her. She swayed a moment as her mind became fuzzy.

Where am I? were we not at North?

She opened her eyes to Magda across the room, at the northern candle, only to find herself at the southern candle, hand in flame.

“It is done. Flames will never burn you. Ice will never blacken your soul. For your soul is now the blackest of black. And always remember, you are the poison of god. You are the cleanse. Any man whom you are intimate with, will face the consequences of their actions.”

“Magda, what have I done?”

“You have changed the eternal thread of your destiny. Your world is now distorted. Be wise with your choices, child. And do not forget the opium for your father. He will be quite remiss if you do.”

Dani picked up the small satchel next to the door and forced herself to stop shaking.

Tonight…

Tonight it will be all over

Random Love

9 Oct

It’s just one of those things, ya know?
Like rain on an important day.
Or not being able to find your keys when your late.

I just… I just missed the train.
And there he was.

I didn’t understand, at first.
He was so… so unattainable.
He was beautiful.
My mind refused to wrap itself around the idea that he may have noticed me too. How could he not, though? I stared at him, slack jawed like a confused fan. I didn’t know whether I should run for his autograph, or run screaming for my life.

I didn’t know any better.

Sometimes that happens, ya know?
Like bumping into a hot iron.
Or taking a turn too fast on the road.

I was ignorant. I fell like a tree chopped at the ankles.

He was everything.
He was light and strength and glorified sex in dark denim jeans and a ridiculous plaid sport coat. He seemed cold, his scarf, too thin.

I stared for 10 minutes straight when the next train pulled up and I shook myself.

It was like Fate, ya know?
Like walking up to the cab stop to find a cab waiting for you.
Or finding that missing ring in the spot that you looked a million times before on the night you needed to wear it.

I never saw it coming.

I was blind. I didn’t catch on until my world was burning down around me.
I sat in the corner of the traincar as people piled on. It’s like they brought the fog in with them. Everything was just so cloudy. I stared at the book in front of me, not really seeing the words. we hit a turn and the body standing in front of me leaned in.

His ridiculous plaid coat brushed my book and I looked up.

He smiled down at me.

I never made it home.

It was one of those things, ya know?
Like the kind of love you would fight for.
Or the kind of love you would die for…

Update

27 Feb

Mora is 18 chapters strong now. Nanowrimo fell apart when my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and my world came crashing down. she’s the last parent i have left. its been a basket of stress hand delivered every day by disease.

regardless tonight I decided to try mapping out a new story… horror/fantasy/mystery. you know me… can’t stick to a genre to save my life. wanna see the first page or two? here….

“The Gods will tear this world a sunder before they will ever allow you to have it.”
“Pretty words from a man who will soon be buried so far into the underworld, there will be no ascension.” Geribaldi rolled the ancient gold coin between his knuckles on his left hand while aiming the silencer with this right. “Do you not understand? There is no stopping it. The Emergence is coming and there is nothing you or any of your brotherhood can do.” He chuckled as he leveled the barrel at his victim.
“Oh, the game is nowhere near over, Danello. You can kill me, but you will never get your hands on all of the pieces.” He didn’t even struggle against his restraints, accepting of his fate as he knew it would one day, arrive at his doorstep, just as the fates had told him so many years ago. He took the oath and the coin knowing full well the danger they brought.
“I will ask you this only once more. Where is the Pendant, Hamid?”
“In the pits of Hell. Where I am sure, I will be seeing you soon.”
With a frustrated growl, Geribaldi pulled the trigger firing off the singular shot that ended Hamid’s life. He stepped out of the small cave in the central Theben Desert. He lit his cigar and puffed away as he waited for his transport.
“It is not like you to tell the future, Hamid. Yet, I am sure you are correct. By the time this is over, I will see you in the pits of hell, and if I must go that far to retreive the damned pendant, I will.”
He shielded his eyes as the helicopter lowered the rope ladder down to his location. He climbed into the helicopter and surveyed his small team. “Any word?”
“Sir! We have word that the pendant is in Los Angeles. It may be a wild goose chase, unless you have word of otherwise?” The young soldier had shown so much potential in training. He was definitely going far in the private sector.
“Nope. That sounds like as good of a place as any to start the new search. Please report to HQ that I have retrieved the coin.”

Nanowrimo 2010

4 Nov

So this year I’m using NANOWRIMO as a way to actually finish a novel. I’m thinking this might actually work as its a complete challenge and I love challenges.

Last year I didn’t succeed due to a move and alot of stress … and well let’s face it, excuses.

This year I don’t actually have that ability. NO EXCUSES! the story I’m working on is just way too important to let god. Its not just the main character that is haunting me this time, its the world.

I wrote an entire plot idea here but decided for safety’s sake it probably isn’t a wise idea. Sooo you’ll just have to see. I have three fantastic friends who are reading as i write and so far good reviews. I trust them to be brutally honest when it could be crap vs captivating. we’ll see. all i know is i am dying to find out what happens to this girl and if I can just make it a single story about her while thing about another character I may get to spin off with, without making it a sequel! we’ll see.

I have to sleep I’m late and very tired. too much writing working and being broke.

goodnight!

Mora Chapter 2

5 Sep

I cannot tell you how excited I am that this story is progressing. There are definite moments of struggle for me but mostly its been a hell of a ride. Here is chapter two (I’ve just finished writing chapter 5)!

Chapter 2

“Climb onto the cart, girl. You may ride within, on the roof, or you may walk.” Josef said as he strapped the cart rigging to the Blusterbeast. Its mighty horns protruded from its forehead and shone in the early morning sunlight as it stamped its massive feet. Its rough skin was wrinkled over a body that was big enough to hold four of me on his back with no problem.

Gemma was a rare Oasis blessed with a female and a male Blusterbeast and every ten years, we would be blessed with a yearling. I walked up to the cart and the eye of the Blusterbeast rolled to stare at me. He always frightened me, even as an adult. That bulbous blue eye followed me as I wandered to the cart I would be riding in. Its lashes fluttering in the soft breeze of the morning.

This year we were trading its child. The baby with softer skin was just under my height with three small humps on its forehead where its horns would come in. We were trading her for a wife. The baby was tied to the back of the cart that I was to ride and I couldn’t help but wander closer to it.

“Stop there, girl. Do not touch it. It will become attached to you and we need it to be attached to its new owner.” Josef yelled at me from the top of the front cart. He had the reigns in his hands as the men did a count and check of the wares and baggage. I was granted a bag full of alpaca yarn I had spun and dyed myself, my collection of needles and hooks, and my small sketchbook with my patterns and designs. They saw it as a trade of craftsman, but I saw it as a luxury they were allowing me. I never could admit the pride I felt from my creations. Or the secreted patterns of intricate designs I had created. Only my mother knew.

I climbed onto the top of the cart and settled myself in, my bag of yarn on one side, my patterns on the other. I intended to keep myself busy as we made the three day treck across the Deadlands to the meeting place. I decided I should start on a blanket, as I had to leave mine behind.

The caravan started into the woods that surrounded our clearing and I suddenly felt the trepidation of this journey. The little yearling walked trudged along next to the cart, once in a while making strange soft noises as we continued to the border of the oasis. I said a quick prayer for strength and started on the blanket.

Hours had passed and my fingers began to cramp as we came to the edge of the wood. It was like a line drawn in the land. There were barren trees and then, nothing. Pure white sand as far as the eye could see. We stopped and Josef walked across the tops of the carts. He reached me and stopped. Just at the edge of my skirts.

“It will get hot quickly, but we will not stop. If you choose to go inside of the cart, now is the time to do it. If you need to relieve yourself, also, now is the time to do it. I have made this trek a thousand times and more to the point that I understand if you feel the need to remove the top layer of clothing. I will not be looking back at you unless you call my name. If you feel faint, sick, dizzy, call my name. If you need to stop and relieve yourself, call my name. If you hear me call out to you, or if we stop, you need to dress quickly and come down from the top of the cart.” He sighed a heavy sigh and looked directly at my eyes for the first time in my life. I couldn’t help but feel frightened as a man had never looked at me before.

“I need to warn you, there are such things as storms you’ve never seen before. There is no rain, just wind and the wind will create a devil in the form of sand. We will stop, we will ride out any storm that comes our way. You will need to be inside the cart. It will be blinding if you stay outside during a storm. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I have prayed heavily for strength and to grant us safe passage. I can only knit, and pray.” I held up my needles so he may see the creation I’d started and he nodded his head. Josef turned, and walked back to the front cart. I was sitting on the third and last cart. I stood, and climbed down, wandered into the wood a bit, relieved myself and came back, only to sit on a small cushion that was not there before. He said nothing, and I did not thank him. I sat and continued my work as we started out into the Deadlands.

Josef was right. It was not long before I was stripping my overdress from my shoulders and setting up the screen above my head. It was hotter than anything I’d ever experienced before in my life. Sweat poured down my back and between my breasts as I continued my project in silence. All around was nothing but sand. Gemma had disappeared from my sight quite a while ago and I had sat in silent reverence to my new found status. Many hours had passed when we stopped by an outcropping of rocks. It was as if a hillside of limestone stuck out of the sand, offering us shelter from the night. I slipped my overdress back on after I inspected my now much darker skin.

“Why do we not continue through the night?” I asked as I climbed down the cart and avoided the baby blusterbeast.

“There are creatures you’ve never imagined that survive in this desert. We cannot become their nightly meal. We must stay protected. I shall rise with the sun and we shall start again. You are set up to sleep in the last cart. I shall sleep in the front. If you hear anything, play as if you were dead. Do not make a sound.” Josef walked away and proceeded to set up camp against the large rocks.

Soon, he had a small blaze going as he cooked poultry over the fire. I sat across the pit and ate in silence. I feared him. He was a man and I knew nothing of them. I knew Gemma was filled with them and they did hard labor but I knew nothing of their inner thoughts, their minds. I had heard the tales of ancient men wallowing in the pleasures of women. We were merely slaves to their wills. We looked the way they wanted us to, we spoke the way they thought was proper. We were there strictly for their pleasure even if it caused us pain. The acts were never described but the idea was sickening to me.

As I thought about it, I couldn’t help the curious idea that crossed my mind. How were we any different now? The elders were made up of men. I have no rights. We are not a people of freedoms. The thoughts alone made me want to cry. Not because of my situation, that was unchangeable. But because it was a grievous sin to question the life I was granted.

The sound of a lone screeching animal filled the night and I began to shake in fear. “Drink some water, and go to sleep. I will keep watch with the beasts. We will be okay.” He handed me the large skin of water and I drank my fill.

I stripped in my cart and rolled out my bed. It was nothing but a stuffed pelt but at least it was something. Once the night set in, the temperature dropped to the point of me shivering even with my thick shawl wrapped around my shoulders. I huddled in my pelt and slept with my yarn bag as a pillow. I fell asleep to the sound of wind and screeching birds.

The next morning I awoke before the sun, listening to Josef getting ready to leave. I dressed and stepped out in time to watch him feed the yearling. “Will you be riding up top, Mora?”

“Yes, I think so. As long as I have the canopy up, I feel better than in the baking heat of the cart.” I walked away down a hill of sand and relieved myself before climbing back up on the cart and readying myself for day two.

We started again, just as the sun was rising in the east. The heat pounded down on us as we delved deeper into the Deadlands and I slowly began to feel as though we were lost. I drank sparingly from my waterskin and continued my blanket project, fearing the results of letting my mind wander again. I had much atonement to be done once I became a member of my new Oasis.

At some point during the day, I had the sudden urge to look up only to be blessed with the view of the the skeletal remains of a huge beast. I stared at it in shock as I realized I would fit perfectly into the belly of that long gone creature, until I noticed someone had already thought of that. There, within the rib cage rested the skeleton of a human being. It leaned up against a giant rib, its bleached white teeth grinning from a broken skull.

“Don’t look at it.” Josef said from the first cart.

“I am sorry.” I said back. Turning my head, I knew the image would forever be burned into my memory.

“We will have only two more nights and then you will be with your new family. You were chosen for a reason, Mora. You represent the Gemma Oasis very well. You are a model member of the Oasis and we feel as though we honor Dios in this trade. You must look upon that with humility and grace.”

“I do. I no pride. However I know that I must continue to try to do my best for the sake of Gemma.” I answered remotely. It was a natural response, one taught to me as far back as I could remember. Everything was done for the sake of Gemma and Dios.

By the end of the second day, my hair was soaked with sweat and my waterskin was half empty. I sat in nothing but my underthings beneath the small canopy I had put up on the top of the cart. Once in a while a huge bird would fly across the sky, silent in its vigilance. Its wings glittered in the sunlight and all I could think of was to be free and be able to fly. We stopped at a small watering hole, allowing the blusterbeast and its yearling to drink deeply, replenishing its internal supply. I myself refilled my waterskin before climbing back up and continuing the blanket.

We rode on for what seemed like forever until the sun began to set. Josef stopped, I dressed and he set up camp. The blanket was now large enough to cover a small child’s bed, in soft muted colors of the trees. Greens, browns and a few soft hints of yellow. We sat and ate and again I curled into my stuffed pelt for sleep. The wind picked up tonight, howling through the rocks we had chosen as our sanctuary. The door of my cart rattled as the wind blasted against it, yet still, I was able to drift into sleep.

I awoke to the sound of stomping as my cart shook from force. I dressed and peeked through the latched window only to be blasted by sand. I could hear the yearling crying and mewling in the horrible storm.

“Josef!” I called out.

“Josef!” I screamed but there was no response. The wind whipped my door open and I could barely see the yearling struggling against the storm. I reached out, grabbed its rope and pulled it in. I could hear the screeching birds as they flew above the sand storm.

“Hear me Dios! Save Us! Do not let us parish in this storm!” I screamed into the night, tasting the sand on my lips.
Finally the yearling reached the cart and I hauled it inside. It was huge, the floorboards creaking under its steps. Its eyes watering and red as its second set of lids had not fully developed and the storm had caused much pain. I pulled the door shut behind it, latching it with a large piece of wood.

The yearling collapsed next to my pelt, whimpering. I took my waterskin and dripped water over its eyes, washing away the sand. “Shhh… It’s okay. We will survive this together and in the morning, Josef will take us home.” I whispered in its ear. It seemed to calm itself to the sound of my voice as I rinsed its eyes and settled it down next to me. There I sat, all night, with the head of a blusterbeast yearling in my lap as it slept, and a storm raging outside around us.

Mora Chapter 1

19 Aug

It’s been a year since I’ve posted to my writing blog. So many things have taken place in my life, so many events changed the path of my future. Yet I still write, and after a wild dream the other night, I suddenly feel the need as I did, 5 years ago. So without further Adieu, I give you the tale of Mora the Raven.

Chapter 1

There are things in my world we just do not speak of. We do not speak of what happens after death. We do not speak of the sacrifices of wedlock. We do not speak of the times prior to the rapture unless within the schoolhouse walls.

The elders say the laws have been past down from the Originators. They survived the rapture. They made this life for us and we, in turn live a simple and yet fruitful life.

Ever since I was old enough to understand, I’ve been told that Pleasure is the greatest sin. Not only will you be punished by Dios, but you will be punished by the elders as well. If you repeat the offense, you will be banished to the Deadlands, forced to survive on your own or die in the deserts that surround the Oasis.

There are 12 Oasis total across the continent. Everything outside the Oasis is barren desert. You don’t survive out there without some kind of support system. Boys are sent out into the desert for 3 days as a rite of passage. They come back men, or they do not come back at all. I woman, will be traded to another Oasis for my wedlock. I will have to trudge that desert. Trust me when I say the idea scares me to death.

I live on Gemma Oasis. It’s a small oasis on the southern part of the continent. The only continent left on the planet earth. We were taught that many, many years ago, our ancestors angered Dios. They were selfish and full of the need to pleasure only themselves. They cared not for their world, their people, their families. They only cared in the fabled icons of the times. Things called automobiles, televisions and telephones. I was even told the story of the Great Kate who was a queen of the land of Fashion. She was obsessed with dousing herself in oils that made her smell as if she’d rolled in the spice bins. She died from poisoning of the oils. She was a fable. A lesson to be taught to never give in to want.

Today I am nineteen years old for the very last time. Tomorrow, I am to ride a trade caravan where I will be traded, livestock for a bride. Me being the bride. Tonight is the last night I spend with my mother and sisters. Tomorrow, I will be a woman sent out to build a family of my own. The women are separated from men at the age of three. Boys are taken by their fathers, raised together and taught man things. I suspect things like hunting, building, spitting and scratching themselves. Things women don’t ever do. I do have to say I always felt slighted because I was denied the chance to learn architecture. The ancient books we have showed the flaws of the architecture of the past in huge high rises, blocking out the glorious sun. I wanted to learn so much and was denied due to me gender.

I was taught such things as sewing, cooking, and basic mathematics to handle trade. Gemma Oasis is famous for their desert rams and alpacas. We raise them and our flocks produce the softest fleece in the new world. Pride is a sin, I only state what is fact. The only time the unwed women are allowed to mingle with the men is during the annual sheering. We celebrate nothing as any type of exuberance is deemed as overzealous and wrong. The elders live in constant atonement to Dios for our past generations. We fear the chaos that angering Dios could bring. Women more than men, need to be an example of humility.

I will miss the annual sheering. I shouldn’t say that. If the elders knew, I would be no longer be traded but given away. Considered an emotional harlot. I had a sister who was given away. We are not to grow attachments to the others but it cannot be helped. I miss her dearly. She constantly defied the elders, our mother and Dios. The final straw was dying her underthings the color of blood. She’d dyed them months ago and thought she’d gotten away with it until a breeze picked up her skirts. The elder accused her of being a harlot and bewitching her with her blood red colorings. He went into penitence, punishing himself for thirty days for craven thoughts about her. I woke up the day after he reported her, and she was gone. Gone in the night, stolen from her bed, and taken into the Deadlands to be given freely to any many who would take her. Or worse, left for dead.

Sometimes, I dream of her. I think of Bani and wonder if she survived. I long to have gone with her. Even if it had been to die, she was the closest thing I had to a companion.

#

“Get out of that tub, Mora. You’re not to lavish in the waters and you know it.” Mother said as she held the large bath sheet open for me.

“That I do know, Mother. I wasn’t lavishing. Just thinking of what is to come tomorrow.” I stood and let the rivulets of water run down my skin into the iron tub. I had sat in it so long, the water temperature had cooled and the fire beneath was nothing but smoldering embers.

“Do not ponder on your future. Dios will grant you a long one if you have been a dutiful daughter. I find that you have. I see no reason why Dios would curse you into a bad wedlock.” I stepped out of the tub and was immediately wrapped in the bath sheet, Mother running her hands up and down my arms.

It was a warm night, the bath house surrounded in netting to keep the biters away. I was to be washed, anointed and prepared for my journey. “Is it wrong to be scared?” I asked.

“No. Dios respects the fear that is inlayed within us. We are but tiny beings to the great lord and we will fear many things. Lack of fear is what is wrong. Pride is wrong. Want is wrong. You must be the epitome of humility. You have studied well and know your craft. Use it to bring your betters and future elders the profit needed to continue at your new Oasis.” She dried me and set the sheet aside; knowing that no member of our Oasis would dare peek into the windows of the bath house as she conducted the ceremony.

Mother stripped down to her underthings and set the tray on the pillar next to the tub. Usually the tray would hold a scrub towel, a bar of soap and space for such things as spectacles or reminder rings. Tonight, it held the anointing oils for the blessing and the torque that would be fashioned around my neck to show that I was no longer available. The deal had been done, and I would be delivered to my new life.

“Do you ever think about Bani?” I whispered.

“No. Do not mention the harlot’s name.” Mother’s face contorted in pain and I realized she just lied to me.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. I am leaving tomorrow, Mother. Please tell me you will remember me when I am gone too, just as you remember her.” I had turned and faced her as she prepared the blessing oil for my skin and stared into her eyes as the tears started to trickle down her face.

“It is wrong. I am not to want for my children. They have their missions in life and I have mine. She disobeyed. She broke the law and was punished for it. I should be disgraced by her actions and feel nothing but shame for her but I think of her as a child, her taking care of you and the others, her as she created such beautiful fabrics with her dyes. We are to live in a world of humility yet she was my shining star. And now you, my practical Mora is leaving, never to be seen by my eyes again. I will have to do heavy atonement for my thoughts and words tonight.” She sniffled and I did the only thing I could. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight.

We do not show affection to each other. It is not proper and can elicit evil thoughts. But, I couldn’t stand there and watch my mother mourn for her daughters alone. I mourned just as much as she and knew that it was meant to be our little secret. Bani was two years older than me but she was more like my twin. She was eighteen when she was banished and now, being chosen to leave the Oasis was going to destroy what little love was left in my mother’s heart. So I held her. I wantonly broke the law and flouted my love for her, not caring if anyone else would witness it. I was to be gone anyway and my last memories would be defiant by my choice alone.

We separated; she spread the oil on my skin and whispered the wedlock prayer over and over. She set the torque around my neck and flipped the intricate lock in the back. I was finally a woman. I was an early starter; I bled earlier than the other girls. My body showed the signs of childbirth readiness at the early age of fifteen and now, now I would be a wife.

She slipped the soft knighting over my skin and walked me out of the bathhouse to the tradehouse, where I could be staying tonight. I no longer had a room under her roof. I was to be kept with the other wares and livestock for tomorrow’s treck. I would sleep in a simple bed, I would get up in the morning, I would dress and I would be ready to leave.

And my world would be changed forever.

Captive

17 Aug

she stood at the window while he paced the room. Her heart pounded at the idea of him pressing that gun to her head. she didnt know what it was about this man, but he scared the shit out of her and she was ashamed to admit she liked it.

She was always too demanding, dominant, strong and now he’d taken her from the casino floor and tore away at her defiance. She sweated at the idea of defying him again. Suddenly she felt his hot breath on the back of her shoulderblades.

“You have the money. I know you do. You will give me every dime you owe me or I will splatter your brains all over the las vegas strip.”

Her mind spun at his threats. She wanted to slap him, but feared he’d shoot her just to show her he meant business.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She held her breath. Dear god let him believe in the lie.

“You don’t, do you?” He pressed the barrel of his revolver into her spine and the cold steel brought goosebumps across her flesh.

“Not a word.”

“Then there’s no point in keeping you alive, is there?”

She shivered as he cocked the gun and kissed her neck just behind her ear.

“Please…” her whisper was barely audible over the blood pounding in her ears.