Lucky 7: Guardians

So there's been this new blog thing going on called "Lucky 7" and I've just been tagged by my good friend and much better author Jen DeSantis. 


Here are the rules:

• Go to page 7 or 77 in your current manuscript
• Go to line 7
• Copy down the next seven lines/sentences as they are. No cheating! 
• Tag 7 authors to join in the fun.

My excerpt comes from my current, much abused, WIP, Guardians. I consider it much abused as I have not had the time to devote to writing like I had been. My attempts at #WIP500 by Cara Michaels started out well but I've definitely been sputtering. Enjoy what is here, and hopefully by the end of this year I might actually have it done.

"I was so little when my actual parents died and I don’t remember much about them.”

David scratched his head, an apologetic look on his face. “Man, I am really going about this the wrong way. I wasn’t trying to make you upset.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Let me make it up to you. Meet me for lunch later this week after you’ve had a chance to settle in. I can show you around town a bit and give you the five cent tour.”

Alana considered his offer, trying to determine if he was going to act like a jerk again if she agreed.

And now for the tagging ... my list of unsuspecting victims.


1. Kimberly Gould
2. Rob Pruneda
3. Steve Umstead
4. Leah Petersen
5. Heather Hall
6. Maria McDonald
7. Kathleen Doyle


Let the carnage begin!

WANTED: Writers for the PPWC Blog!

I run a photo prompt blog and we are in need of writers!

Please check out the blog if you are interested for details:
http://picprompt.blogspot.com/2012/03/wanted-writers-for-ppwc-blog.html

March 1st (sort of) and I've Stalled ...

If anyone looked at my #WIP500 numbers or my numbers for the Guardians on February 1st to March 1st, not much has changed.

This month has proven to be quite difficult, not all of which weren't my fault. I've found myself reading quite a bit. While reading is important for a writer, I also need to write once in awhile.  I got busy with work then I lost some of my mojo and I allowed that to derail my progress.

March isn't going to be like that. While we are only a few days in thus far and I haven't really accomplished much, I am hoping to change that starting tomorrow.

Hopefully this time next month I will have better news. For those of you who are also participating in the #WIP500, good luck to you! I hope you are doing better than me. LOL

Toodles!

Flash Fiction Weeks of February 20th to March 2nd

The last several weeks were crazy week of work for me. The owner of my company was on vacation so I was in charge (scary thought) and was on-call the entire week in February. Being on-call really eats into my writing time when it gets busy. Ah well, every week isn't like that.

What sucks is when you go a few days without writing, you tend to lose your 'mojo' and lose your thoughts. When I pulled my manuscript up yesterday, I had to re-read several pages of what I had already written just to get back into the scene. It worked, and I think the mojo has returned, however sporadically.

I've tried to get back in with the flash fiction but my participation has been spotty. Some of the prompts just didn't speak to me. As before, I try to keep them in the spirit of my WIP if possible.

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#MenageMonday (made Honorable Mention! Woo!)

Title: One Life to Give

The Old Mother stands proudly, naked and still in the crisp spring air. Her coverings have long been removed, allowing her flesh to dry and chap through the harsh winter. Breathing is difficult for her this Spring, but she tries all the same to last as long as she can.

Regardless of the pain she is in, she relishes the feeling of growth along her skin. Gentle caresses of new life slowly worked their way up her ancient body, curling and exploring with delicate shoots.

“It’s almost time,” she thinks to herself, knowing that this will be the last season for her.

She sighs as small insect life crawls up the tender shoots, investigating the cracks and crevasses of her time ravaged frame. Slowly they work their way inside, taking from the Old Mother the only nourishment she has to give.

With her last, gasping breath, the Old Mother offers herself to the young ones all around her, knowing that they will live on because of her, with her, from her.

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#5MinuteFiction

--I was a little disappointed by this, I got interrupted while I was writing so I wasn't able to complete the thought I was going with for this. Ah well, another day.

Alana followed the clues she found in the archives which led her to her Grandmother’s garden behind the house. However, it didn’t end there. The clues told her to seek out the water of the Creator. The only water Alana knew of was a small pond that was beyond the edge of what she thought was the property line.

Carefully, she stepped through the overgrown brush and brambles until she heard the quiet lapping of the small pond she only just recently became aware of being there. Her memories of being here as a small child were faint, but none contained anything about a pond, just the garden with her Grandmother.

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#5MinuteFiction

Title: Breath of Strength

As Alana ran towards the town hall, the wind ripped around her.  Leaves and various small bits of trash blew about, caught up in the storm. It was so strange. The weather forecast said it was going to be calm with clear skies. This was clearly not that.

However, when she thought about it, it felt like the storm was following her. In glimpses through the debris filled wind, there were trees with limbs unbowed from the gale and flags hanging limply from their poles.

It made sense. The Destroyers were after her any way they could. They could not physically stop her but they could create other things to stop her.

Alana was distracted by a boom off to her right and tripped over a branch that was on the ground. She landed roughly, skinning her hands and knees. Her skin smarted as dirt rubbed into the abrasions. With a grimace, she rolled over on her back and tried to get up.

Suddenly, the wind became oppressive. It tightened and tangled, like a vise, holding her down. Breathing became difficult and she saw stars in front of her eyes.  She closed her eyes, took as deep of a breath as she could, and grasped her pendant, hoping the power inside of it would give her the strength to continue.

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#FridayPictureShow

“Give me the pendant,” Alana demanded. The man behind her tightened his grip on her arms.

The leader of the Destroys laughed, cold and merciless, as he dangled it in front of her face. “No.”

Alana snarled and struggled to free herself from the man restraining her.

The leader laughed again and started to turn away when David took advantage of the distraction and lunged forward to try to grab the pendant.

Before Alana could blink, a shot rang out and David hit the floor. Smoke curled from the barrel of a gun held by one of the other henchmen.

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That's all folks. Hopefully this week will be better!