Friday Five

Nov. 6th, 2015 11:00 am
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
It's a bit more than five sentences but who cares? I FINALLY FINISHED THIS THING.

Nadir almost felt drunk. He was lightheaded and almost giddy from the sudden realization that perhaps he hadn't been imagining, hoping against hope at all. That there was something here and that Bastian felt it as much as he did.

Then Bastian's hand moved to slide along Nadir's jaw and creep into his hair and this time Nadir was the one fighting shivers and sounds as his eyes drifted shut. "Nadir," Bastian breathed and it felt like a benediction. He felt Bastian move, felt him shift nearer and opened his eyes in time to see Bastian's face so close it was distorted and wasn't that strange?

And that was the last thought Nadir had before Bastian exhaled against his lips and then kissed him.
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
I went back to this story today and figured why not post some more. This part isn't from what I wrote today but still, enjoy. It's more than six sentences. I don't think people will mind that.

It was true; the woods made Nadir nervous. He was happy and comfortable inside the castle walls, with his books and his sword, his education and his training. His routine. The woods were not part of what made him feel safe or comfortable. They were dark, even during the day, with their giant twisting trees, their windy branches, their silence.

That was what bothered Nadir the most about the woods. They were too quiet. He couldn't hear birds or anything else for that matter. It felt like slipping into pure absence of sound. He didn't mention it to Baz; that would mean actually admitting that fear aloud - never mind that Baz seemed to know Nadir was more than just unnerved. But he still refused. At age twenty he was nearly a knight of the realm, ready to leave squiredom - and the remains of childhood - behind. He couldn't be afraid of a mere forest.
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (Default)
Since this worked pretty well in 2013, I'm making myself a schedule. This schedule is subject to change.

Schedule )
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
Here's a sample of what I'm currently working on, hopefully for Less Than Three's Villains Inc. anthology.

Above the surface, the sun rose and, beneath the waves, the prince of Sujung rose with it. His Royal Highness Prince Ilseong slid from his bed of soft sea sponge, his grey tail uncoiling lazily. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, stifling a yawn. It was his day off and yet still he could not sleep late. Too many years of training with his father's warriors meant he rose at dawn even when he was so far beneath the ocean's surface he could barely see its light. That did not hold true for today. Today the sun shone so brightly it reached the spires of the palace, which caught and bent it so it spread across the kingdom. It had been built just for that purpose - to bring the kingdom's citizens light no matter how deep.

It was a beautiful day which made it so surprising when everything went terribly wrong.

Prince Ilseong was not a spoiled indolent royal. He was a warrior, like his father, built strong a lithe, his powerful tail as much a weapon as his knives and his teeth. When he smiled it was a baring of sharp fangs, and it was a reminder that the prince of the merkingdom was a shark. He was not genteel mermaid nor was he a siren of legend, with their beautiful voices and sometimes beautiful faces that lured men to the deaths.

Those were his sisters, some the former, some the latter. He was the hunter, the killer, the future king. He was his father's son.
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
I have no idea if this will make the final cut or not but here's a thing!

The woods to the north of the castle grounds were an immensity. In all the years Baz and Nadir had trained as squires on the grounds, they had never managed to fully explore it. That wasn't to say they didn't try. Not long after becoming a squire, Baz had developed a habit of sneaking out and after the first few times, Nadir joined him if only to keep him out of trouble. Later, despite his protests, Nadir began to enjoy those excursions into the forest. The trees were evergreens, so thick and tall they seemed to touch the sky and blot out the sun even on the brightest day.

Nadir had to admit, the first time he'd accompanied Baz, he'd been more than a little afraid. He'd covered his fear with stern reprimands and cautionary tales about how much trouble they could get in, and how Baz was lucky Nadir was with him to keep him out of trouble. Baz had simply looked at Nadir with his green-hazel eyes and replied, "I know. I was scared too. I'm glad you're with me," then plunged headlong into the trees.

Looking back, Nadir knew he'd started falling for Baz then.

I got this all outlined today so hopefuly I can get it written soon!
actionreaction: photo of arthur and eames from inception. text: keep calm and dream bigger darling ([inception] keep calm and dream bigger)
I finally got started on what I hope will be a submission to Less Than Three's Lovely, Dark, and Deep anthology. This starts two side characters from my story that was in the Won't Back Down antho. Anyway, enjoy!

The third time Baz let out his perfectly calculated huff, Nadir sighed and put down his book. He knew that sigh, the weight of it, the balance, the careful planning that went into Baz sounding just the right amounts of forlorn and discontent. Baz had had years to get it right, after all.

Nadir resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, a habit he'd developed after years of spending time with Baz and instead swung round in his chair to look at him. Baz didn't even have the decency to look sheepish at interrupting Nadir. In fact, the corner of his mouth was twitching slightly, like he was fighting back a smile.

Calmly Nadir took in Baz's appearance. He was dressed in his walking clothes, casual clothing the squires wore when not in training. With their impending knighthood only a few months away, they didn't have much time to themselves anymore. So it was rare they found the time to - in Nadir's case - catch up on reading, though it appeared he was not about to have that time now either. "What is it now, Bastian?" Nadir used Baz's full first name, making it clear that he was displeased, albeit only slightly.

Baz smiled then, that charming, almost too-white smile that always crumbled at Nadir's resolve. "I'm bored."

It was Nadir's turn to sigh. "Of course you are. And you need me to do something about it?"

Baz only smiled wider, sensing an advantage Nadir hadn't intended to give him. "I need you to come with me."

Nadir narrowed his eyes, his dark heavy eyebrows knitting above them. "And go where?"

"Into the woods."

Idea Diary

Dec. 21st, 2013 12:02 am
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (Default)
Rewritten fairy tales:

Rudy and the Beast.

The Beast is a car, but the term also applies to the rough around the edge mechanic who restores it.
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen ([writing] making a mess)
I haven't posted writing in so long but I'm happy to post this, a snippet from Feint of Heart that will be PUBLISHED in Less Than three's upcoming Won't Back Down anthology! Wooo I'm getting published!

"Again."

Cal's eyes stung as sweat poured into them, but he didn't so much as raise a hand to wipe his brow. He could feel Sir Taren Veretti's eyes on him and he refused to look weak. So he blinked the sweat away as rapidly as he could, took his stance, and lunged again.

Once again his thrust was easily parried, but this time Taren slapped the blade further to the right, slid into close range, and smacked the flat of the blade against his stomach. "Hit. Were I an enemy, Cal Caison, you would be dead."

Cal gave in and shoved both his hair and a river of sweat from his eyes, but he didn't dare use stinging eyes and perspiration as an excuse. He'd seen Sir Taren fight with injuries that would have crippled a squire, and probably even a handful of Queen Selvia's other veteran knights. If he wanted to be half as good at Sir Taren, he had to be able to fight through discomfort.


This is a variation of something posted earlier, with a few lines more. I may post another snippet or two later, but as it's only ~15,200 words and it's being published for actual monies, I'd rather have as much of the whole story in tact in the anthology as possible.
actionreaction: photo of ravi and n from vixx making a heart over their heads ([kpop] kings: jack and ace hearts)
So this is a thing that bit me yesterday afternoon and wouldn't let me nap. Considering expanding the hell out of this for Less Than Three Press.

I started keeping a diary when I started dancing and I kept up writing in it faithfully. I have old diaries filled from beginning to end, full of nonsense, of hopes, of obstacles, and of miracles. I have notes on the languages I've learned, the people I've meant, and the things I still can't believe happened. This diary is special though.

Two years of training with mentors. Ten more months training with four other hopefuls under LYJ Entertainment. Mistakes, crushing blows, amazing heights - this diary is the story of how we went from nobodies to royalty.

This is the story of the making of the band Kings.
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen ([writing] making a mess)
This is something for LT3 Press, for later this year. I'm hoping it gets accepted into the upcoming anthology.

The squire's eyes stung as sweat poured into them, but he didn't so much as raise a hand to wipe his brow. He could feel his knight's eyes on on him and the number one thing he refused to do was look weak. So he blinked the sweat away as rapidly as he could, took his stance and lunged again.

Once again his thrust was easily parried, but this time, the knight slapped the blade further to the right, slid into close range and smacked the flat of the blade against his stomach. "Hit. Were I an enemy, squire, you would be dead."


Squire and knight both have names, but they're written down elsewhere and I can't recall them right now. I had changed them a couple times simply because other names didn't feel right and now I can't recall what I settled on because I haven't devoted much time to this yet. My focus has still pretty much all been on Shadowbinder.
actionreaction: photo of arthur and eames from inception. text: keep calm and dream bigger darling ([inception] keep calm and dream bigger)
My post for today is locked due to smut but if you want to read it, it's posted unlocked over at [livejournal.com profile] bb_shousetu here.

On a random note, I've been considering collecting my [livejournal.com profile] bb_shousetu works into an ebook and putting it up for download (I guess on my website and here)to give my work more exposure. I am just not 100% sure that it's worth the effort, but I don't see that it can hurt. (I recently learned how to make an ebook and I'm intrigued). I just dunno if more than like 5 people would even download it. Or hey I could always pull it together as a collection and submit it to LT3 as well. It'd come to close to 45,000 words. Closer to 50K if I include one I wrote and didn't wind up submitting to [livejournal.com profile] bb_shousetu (yet. I might still at some point). Food for thought.

Also, spent my morning brainstorming stuff. Trying to get back into the right frame of mind for what I'm doing.

Blargh

Feb. 21st, 2013 11:28 am
actionreaction: mini icons of coffee, computer, pens and paper. text: now what? ([writing] now what?)
I may have to resign myself to the fact that I won't get this done and betaed by the 28th. I just don't have the time to sit down wrangle it all together and somehow still manage to leave time for someone else to have a look at. It's not likely to happen. :( That doesn't mean I don't intend to finish it though. I may just have to do something else with it when I'm done. Also, I kind of think I got too far away from the theme for it to fit anymore and I don't want to sacrifice what I wrote to force it.

I did some editing today and I dunno if I'll do some actual writing or not. I can try my best to write this weekend and if I finish it and some lovely betas (at least 2) are able to get it back to me in a couple days to make last minute edits, then I can do it. But I don't want to force myself and then wind up with something I don't really like or something that gets rejected because I should have spent more time on it.


Since you're not getting a snippet today, have a lovely resource instead: 36 Surprising Ways to Boost Creativity For Free. I meant to post that a while ago.

Awww yiss

Feb. 20th, 2013 11:14 am
actionreaction: photo of a steampunk desktop computer ([steampunk] computer)
I got my flow back. Still need to tie things together but I'm getting to the plot and intrigue now and it ain't just romance. Woot!

That afternoon and the next week continued in much the same way. )


I'm back to liking this again.
actionreaction: photo of a heart, steampunk style, made with cogs and gears ([steampunk] clockwork heart)
Um, I totally didn't write anything but RP stuff today, so here's something I wrote Friday.

At dinner that evening I poked repeatedly at the green peas that spilled out of the pot pie my sister had made. Across from me she blew on a tender but hot piece of chicken before popping it into her mouth. "What's the matter with you? You like peas. I put in extra just for you."

I shook my head and smiled ruefully. "Sorry, Gwennie, my mind was elsewhere. The pie's good promise." I heaped a spoonful of sauce and crust into my mouth, making sure to catch a spoonful of peas.

She made a face at me, the one she'd recently taken to making when I called her Gwennie instead of Gwendolen. Now that she was beginning to wade into the world of law, she thought she ought to drop her childish nickname. But I wasn't about to quit calling her that, especially when she kept slipping and calling me Ollie. "What, thinking about that old professor? How did it go today?"

"He's not really that old," I replied, pursing my lips after I said it.

"What?"

"He's that really so old. I mean Everyone talks him up, makes him sound completely geezed, but he's not even as old as Dad yet."

Our father, at the head of the table snapped his eyes up from his newspaper and glared at him. "Oi now, what was that?"

"Nothing, I was just saying you're not old," I replied glibly, going for the pie again. Gwendolen snickered at exactly the same time I did and moments later the two of us were lost in gales of laughter.

Inventions

Feb. 15th, 2013 11:40 am
actionreaction: photo of a heart, steampunk style, made with cogs and gears ([steampunk] clockwork heart)
I may not have much time to write today so here's some of what I wrote yesterday. I'll have to make up for today over the weekend sometime.

At lunch I confided in Jessamyn. “I thought maybe he’d actually, you know, teach me something not just make me his servant. I could get this same experience at home and I wouldn’t have to wake up so early. I mean look at you and at Gwen. You two are learning right away. That isn’t fair.”

Jessamyn clucked her tongue sympathetically and slid me a lemon cake. “Well, think about it this way. We’re both apprenticed to family. Family wants to share, pass down the trade. You though, he doesn’t know you well yet. Maybe he’s just jealously guarding his trade secrets.” She paused to rearrange the bonnet holding back her curly red hair, and then attacked a mixing bowl with a whisk.

I watched her for a moment and then said suddenly, “It would be a lot faster and easily to get things done if you could have a machine mix for you, wouldn’t it?”

Snippet

Feb. 13th, 2013 11:29 am
actionreaction: photo of a steampunk desktop computer ([steampunk] computer)
A bit from the LT3 steampunk story, which I managed to outline yesterday.

Groaning, I got up, just so I could shut the rooster off and wash up. Breakfast was eggs and ham. I took my toast to go, not because I was eager to get going, but because I just couldn't sit at the table any longer, creating deeper and more ridiculous ideas of what working for Professor Lippett would be like. By the time I got to the mental image on a decrepit old man in goggles that made his eyes bug out, skin dotted in liver spots, and a voice like a rusty gear, I had to get out.
actionreaction: photo of a heart, steampunk style, made with cogs and gears ([steampunk] clockwork heart)
A poem that may or may not find its place in my LT3 story. We'll see. But for now this is all I have to post because I spent my writing time so far today outlining and editing.

Love neither lies nor makes one hide
Love rises up from deep inside
It burns in the heart and sings in the soul.
It is fearless and loud,
enduring and proud.
It's love that makes one whole.

Snippet

Feb. 11th, 2013 10:46 am
actionreaction: photo of a steampunk desktop computer ([steampunk] computer)
So I finished my [livejournal.com profile] bb_shousetsu story yesterday, and while it's sent off to betas to read, I'm shifting gears to my LT3 story instead. Here's a snippet that picks up immediately after this one.

I tried to dawdle on my way, pausing to talk to a few people, stopping to buy a cup of tea in a mug engineered to stay comfortably warm. It cost extra of course, but the cup was reusable. I took a longer route than necessary, riding my steam-powered bicycle at the slowest speeds I could possibly manage. People swore at me as I held them up, but no matter how hard I tried, I still arrived only a mere three minutes late.

Three minutes was apparently enough. I knocked on the door to the building that housed the professor's laboratory and heard an amplified sigh. "There's a perfectly serviceable and rather large doorbell just to your right and you choose to knock? Come in, I've left it open anyway."

I gritted my teeth and stepped inside. As far as first meetings went, this was not boding well.

Snippet

Feb. 1st, 2013 09:17 am
actionreaction: photo of a heart, steampunk style, made with cogs and gears ([steampunk] clockwork heart)
I actually managed to write 500+ words on the train today for LT3. On the subway. It's been a while since I've managed that. Here's a wee taste.

In a room where the professor kept spare parts, I found an old trunk, smaller than the proverbial bread box. It was either unused or hadn't been used in quite some time. It was half covered by papers as well as a box of old broken cogs and gears, all of which were coated in a fine layer of dust.

The trunk itself was beautiful. I don't mean it in the delicate and fancy sense; I mean beautiful in the eyes of an inventor or collector. It was sturdy, made of bronze and iron, where it wasn't rusted. It had these fantastic hinges, none of which matched another too well, meaning each had been painstakingly cut by hand. It was sparsely decorated, no ornate designs to detract from its perfect simplicity.

It's funny now, looking back, how I fell in love with that old trunk.


I'm really pleased with how this is progressing. I'm finally starting to feel good about this project. And I've broken 2000 words on it! Only a minimum of 8000 left to go, which shouldn't be hard, plotwise. I haven't even gotten to the focus of the plot. much less started developing the relationship.

Profile

actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen (Default)
action-reaction

December 2016

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Tags

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags