Category Archives: writing

Sunday Snippet, May 24, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“What were those things that were attacking him? And what happened to them?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what they were; I’ve never encountered them before. As to what happened to them, I sent them away. Hopefully back to their home realm where they’ll be much happier.”

The boy rejoined them as she finished speaking, a small bundle clasped tightly in his arms. “Ready?” she asked, and he nodded, bringing a smile to her lips at the first real communication from him.

“A better question,” she said as they started back toward the street, “is why they were attacking him.”

“You said it yourself,” Veren said. “He’s a Shaman. He has power. The Temples don’t like what they can’t control.”

“So why didn’t they just come after him directly?”

 

An overly long blurb:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

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Rainbow Snippet for 5-23-2020

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

This picks up from last week.

“My place is down this alley. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Are you sure? It’s narrow, but I’m pretty sure we can get through it.”

“It dead ends. I have no idea who planned the streets here but whoever it was didn’t do a very good job thinking things through.”

James laughed. “That’s politicians for you. Not a drop of common sense among them.”

Now that was something I couldn’t argue with.

My good spirits dissipated when I reached the end of the alley and saw my shanty. The storm the night before had torn off part of the roof and my spirits sank as I opened the door and took a look inside. The fire in my stove had gone out, the coal was wet, and everything I owned was soaked: bed, linens, clothes…

I consoled myself with the thought that at least my tools were dry and safe, and locked the door again. I’d get some dry coal on my way home and hopefully get my clothes dried out before morning, although it looked to be a wet and uncomfortable night waiting for me.

 

 

 

 

 

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Wednesday Words #282 (5/20/2020)

Welcome to Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday I will post some sort of prompt for a flash fiction piece.  The prompt will go live just after midnight Eastern time.

The prompt might be a picture, or it might be a list of things to include in a story, or maybe a phrase or a question or something from a “news of the weird” type thing, or a… who knows?

After that, it’s up to you.  But if you do use the prompt to write a bit of flash fiction (say, 500 words or so) I’d love to see what you came up with, so comment below with a link to where it is on your blog (or on WattPad or wherever).

(And a pingback to the post here where you found the prompt would be appreciated but isn’t necessary.)

Oh, and this isn’t a contest or anything.  It’s just a (hopefully) fun thing for all concerned.

And, hey, if it inspires more than 500 or so words, run with it!

an imposter
a note
a portrait

And, as always, I’d love to see what you come up with!

 

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Sunday Snippet, May 17, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“Then we should go.” She turned back to look at the young ogre who had joined them silently, still hanging back a bit, but close enough to hear them. “Do you live far from here? We need you to gather your things so we can leave before more trouble comes.”

He studied her for a moment then turned and darted into the alley, disappearing behind a pile of rubble. 

Veren shook his head. “I doubt he has ‘things.’ Most here have only what they’re wearing.”

 Kestra smiled. “He’s a shaman. He’ll have ‘things.’ We all do.”

 

An overly long blurb:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

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Rainbow Snippet for 5-16-2020

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

This picks up from last week.

…James had to shake me to get my attention.

“Sorry,” I said. “My mind was elsewhere.”

“Must have been a good holiday it went on. At first I thought you’d fallen asleep, then I was worried you’d passed out, and then I was afraid you’d died.”

“Nothing so drastic as that,” I assured him.

“Good. Then could you give me directions? I’ve no idea where to go now that we’re in your neighborhood.”

I blinked to reorient myself. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t realized we’d reached The Old Nichol so it took a moment to get my bearings. A couple of turns later and we were there, more or less.

“Stop here,” I told James as we reached an intersection. “My place is down this alley. I’ll just be a minute.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Wednesday Words #281 (5/13/2020)

Welcome to Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday I will post some sort of prompt for a flash fiction piece.  The prompt will go live just after midnight Eastern time.

The prompt might be a picture, or it might be a list of things to include in a story, or maybe a phrase or a question or something from a “news of the weird” type thing, or a… who knows?

After that, it’s up to you.  But if you do use the prompt to write a bit of flash fiction (say, 500 words or so) I’d love to see what you came up with, so comment below with a link to where it is on your blog (or on WattPad or wherever).

(And a pingback to the post here where you found the prompt would be appreciated but isn’t necessary.)

Oh, and this isn’t a contest or anything.  It’s just a (hopefully) fun thing for all concerned.

And, hey, if it inspires more than 500 or so words, run with it!

ink
a red flower
a middle aged woman

And, as always, I’d love to see what you come up with!

 

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Sunday Snippet, May 10, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

She joined Veren at the entrance to the alley, and looked up at him questioningly. 

“What you did to those… things… it’s bound to have gotten the attention of the Temple Priests. We should be on our way before they come to investigate.”

“Do you really think they will come here at night?” she asked worriedly. “You and Gundrin both warned me against it.”

Veren shrugged. “I don’t know. Depends on how strong they are at the moment. If they have enough militia in-house, they’ll come.” He tried to remember how many troops were at the Temple he had come from, but he was just a Temple Guard – and not freely at that – and not part of their organization. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he repeated, suddenly feeling worthless.

 

 

An overly long blurb:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

1 Comment

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Rainbow Snippet for 5-9-2020

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Still posting from that “Steampunk Thing.” The first draft isn’t done yet and I’m hoping that this will keep me motivated to keep at it.

This picks up from last week.

 

Did we come this way last night?” I asked, puzzled.

James shook his head. “We’re not going directly to the warehouse,” he said. “Miss Victoria wanted to get you home so you could change first.”

“I could have walked,” I protested. “She didn’t need to put you or herself to such bother.”

“It’s no bother. Truth be told, I don’t have much to do most days so it’s good to have an excuse to get out and about. Mr. Madison the Elder doesn’t go out at all anymore, so unless I’m sent on an errand I don’t do much but take Miss Victoria back and forth to the warehouse.”

I nodded. Truth be told, I was grateful for the lift but a bit embarrassed for anyone to see where I lived, which was an objection I couldn’t really give voice to. Not that it mattered, I supposed; I’d already told her what neighborhood I lived in so I’m sure she knew it wasn’t anything remotely on a par with her home. But still, I was pretty sure it was going to be a shock to her.

And besides that, I didn’t want her to think less of me, not that it should have mattered; I was just someone she’d hired to help her with her air ship. Still, I had a strange mix of feelings about her. Nothing romantic: even though she wasn’t a Classist she was still way out of my league, but… strange. I wanted to protect her and I wanted her to like me, to think well of me. I frowned to myself. I almost felt like I wanted her to just be my friend. That was an odd concept and I turned it over in my mind, so lost in the thought of it that James had to shake me to get my attention.

 

 

 

 

 

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Wednesday Words #280 (5/6/2020)

Welcome to Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday I will post some sort of prompt for a flash fiction piece.  The prompt will go live just after midnight Eastern time.

The prompt might be a picture, or it might be a list of things to include in a story, or maybe a phrase or a question or something from a “news of the weird” type thing, or a… who knows?

After that, it’s up to you.  But if you do use the prompt to write a bit of flash fiction (say, 500 words or so) I’d love to see what you came up with, so comment below with a link to where it is on your blog (or on WattPad or wherever).

(And a pingback to the post here where you found the prompt would be appreciated but isn’t necessary.)

Oh, and this isn’t a contest or anything.  It’s just a (hopefully) fun thing for all concerned.

And, hey, if it inspires more than 500 or so words, run with it!

a late season snowstorm
an open can
a cure

And, as always, I’d love to see what you come up with!

 

1 Comment

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Sunday Snippet, May3, 2020

More from the untitled WiP that I’ve been posting from.

This follows from last week’s snippet.

“Here.” Veren appeared at her side and handed her a round hard cake. “Give him this. It’s a travel ration.”

She broke off a small piece and ate it, showing the boy that it was safe. As she chewed, she handed the rest of it to the boy who hesitated for a moment and then snatched it from her hand, huddling away from her protectively. She smiled. “It’s all right,” she assured him. “It’s yours.” He took a bite then stuffed the rest into a pocket. “Eat,” she urged him. “You must be starving. We’ll take you to get more food.”

She stood up and took a step backward, offering her hand again. This time he climbed warily to his feet, towering over her even as he cowered away from her.

He was still eyeing them warily but she could feel him wanting to trust, and she relaxed; he would come around on his own, it was best not to push him.

She joined Veren at the entrance to the alley, and looked up at him questioningly. 

 

 

An overly long blurb:

Magic had reasserted itself. Banished for millennia, it could no longer be contained and erupted, bursting forth with a surge of power that had never been known before, and which, mercifully, has not been repeated since.

Unfortunately, no one believed in magic anymore, so no one knew what to do with it, not even those most directly affected: not those who had mutated overnight into creatures of legend, not those born as something other than human, not those who retained human but found themselves touched in other ways, with special powers and abilities.

Almost no one.

There were a few. A few who had held on to dreams and understandings, who believed in the things that others called fantasy. These few took roles as adepts, as teachers and counselors, leading the way into the new age.

There were some, of course, who rejected the changes. They persecuted the Abominations, as they called them, they drove them out of the cities and into the wilds.

And, gradually, a balance was achieved.

Sort of.

Outside the cities, in the wilds, there arose villages, their inhabitants, human and non, living together in peace and harmony with each other and with the natural world that was feared by the city dwellers.

In the cities, Tech ruled. But magic, or, rather, magic power, was not forgotten, nor entirely abandoned, and Temples grew, their priests (who had no power of their own) seeking Power, seeking to harness it for their own ends.

But also in the cities, magic remained.

Humans were still born with special abilities, special senses. They learned not to talk about them, not to reveal that they were “different” – if they did, they were ostracized, driven out away from the general population. 

Veren was one such human.

Mutants were still born each year, but in smaller numbers than during the Awakening. Some infants were killed by their parents, and some were hidden away for a few years, abandoned when their differences could no longer be hidden. 

Jopie was one such child.

And in the wilds, humans and mutants continued to live in harmony, and to practice magic. But occasionally one would be born with a wild talent, something strong and different than what was normal for their village. They felt isolated, because there was no one to help them understand their gift. Some were driven mad by the visions they saw, others went in search of help when the visions became too much to handle.

Kestra was one such person.

 (Yeah, I know it’s too long. But the book is a long way from being finished so I have lots of time to work on it.)

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

 

4 Comments

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