Author Journey: December 16, 2022 - What Has Happened to Outh'n Durr? and More

 Welcome back dear writers and readers! I've got a few things to share with you today. I hope you'll find it interesting enough to read all the way through the post. 

Author Journey: A Dry Run for Writing, But...

I haven't been able to write much beyond blog posts this week. I started back to work at my old job and while I only work about 4 hours, twice a week, I'm finding it has really 'jinked' my process. Add to that hours spent on preparing Christmas gifts and it spelled disaster for taking a few moments to write.

The Tale of Outh'n Durr still awaits an opening in the budget, but it's looming nearer and nearer. I'm eager to get that out to my readers as soon as possible. And the longer it takes, the more of the wonder of the process fades. 

Hopefully, I'll have more author-ish stuff to share with you next week. Who knows, though? Next week will be busy with holiday and family doings. I think using the word prompts would be a good thing for me to continue doing, especially if I can't figure out what to write next. 

Writer's Life:

As for life happenings, yes, work is going about as well as can be expected. My girls have been writing poetry almost daily, it seems, and while many of them break my heart, I'm happy they are able to write out what many people can't even articulate to a trust friend. 

Spartacus is thriving. I think we have managed to get him back to a safe weight and his normal feeding schedule. He's my sweet friend and when it seems like everything is crashing down around me, his calm, clueless nature reminds me that God is still on His throne. 



Just Keep Writing: Friday Fascicles

If this is your first time participating in this kind of writing exercise, you're in for a treat. If you've done this with me before, just keep scrolling for the prompt.

Rules:

  1. You can use any/all of the words and/or the photo in the prompt below to create a unique written work. Fiction or nonfiction, poetry or prose, even lyrics are acceptable.  
  2. Please keep the material you write clean (ie. nothing R-rated or worse) if you wish to share the link to your work here, as well as if you link back to my site. I strive to keep my site free of such things. My readers know and expect this. I respect your right to write whatever you feel you need to write. And you're free to use my prompts. But if your material is graphic, I'd rather not view it, and most of my readers will not wish to. 
  3. Have fun! This type of exercise is perfect for growing in the writing craft, or for helping through a rough patch in your current WIP. If you're looking to push your author limits and you normally write in nonfiction prose, try a whimsical collection of lyrics. If you normally write poems about real life events, try your hand at a fanfic. Give yourself some room to explore.

Don't forget to leave a link to your creation (unless you're writing graphic material) so my readers and I can check out your work. I'd appreciate a link back to this post to help me reach more readers, but it's not required. 

Photo by Tina Simakova

This week's photos came from Tina Simakova's wonderful gallery at Pexels.com. I hope you'll stop by and check it out!

Just Keep Writing: Friends?

  • Myrl - the ‘y’ combines the normal ‘y’ of yellow, but ends with a clipped short ‘i’ sound. 
  • Gus - the ‘u’ is the ‘oo’ of moon. Yes, his name is ‘goose’ but think Gustav. 
  • Drositiri - (dro see TEE ree) - Genzetti people who live above ground
  • Tanderali - (tahn deh RAH lee) - Genzetti people who live in caves and cavern cities under the mountains. 
  • Tsifi’ra - (TSEE fee rah) the larger sun of Y’Dahnndrya
  • Aiya - (Eye YAH) - exclamatory sound of surprise 
  • Crown on the ruk’ha - (ROOK hah) - like saying the icing on the cake or the straw that broke the camel’s back. A ruk’ha is a type of flying mammal with a colorful, circular crown of fur at sits around the top of its head like a crown. The rest of the body is black or gray depending on the gender.
  • Bloodkyn - (BLUD kyeen - related by blood

This is the sixth story I wrote for my Nanowrimo project. It's pretty short and intended to spark imagination. You won't receive more than some token 'closure' at the end. And it's still pretty raw, though I completed a light, quick edit. A good thing I did that, too, since I found a major discrepancy in the worldbuilding. I hope you enjoy this short snapshot in the lives of a couple of Genzetti citizens. 

Myrl ran as quickly as she could through the tall, spindly trees which grew through cracks in the rocky, mazh-covered ground. They grew so close together, her flight could hardly be called a true run, but this was best. Her dark green coloring and the rich brown tunic and green breeches she wore would help her avoid any unwanted attention. 

The creatures of the forest, though, they would know of her passing. They would know, too, where she was at any time. There was no real way to mask either that or her scent from their excellent senses. It wouldn’t matter so much to them, though. She was neither a hunter nor a trapper. The beasts ignored her once they realized she meant them no harm. 

Still, this time, something far more dangerous than they followed behind her with a heavy, determined tread, much faster than she would’ve expected from such a large person. So deeper into the close-grown tree trunks she dove. 

Twenty heartbeats marked the time it took her to spot a possible hiding place. When she arrived at the old hollow trunk, another creature had already taken her family into refuge there. Myrl had no choice but to press on, deeper in. 

By this time, she thought she must be farther into the forest than she’d ever gone before. Who could have known her pursuer would be so dedicated? She huffed in disgust and then chided herself mentally for the lapse. It was hard enough to disguise one’s passing over a floor of crisp, dry leaves and twigs and avoid spoiling everything with a sigh that betrays your humanity. 

“Myrl, where are you going?” The muffled baritone rang familiar in her memory.

What? Gus? Was that who was following her? She held her tongue but slowed down a little hoping he would speak again. 

“Myrl, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want to talk.” Three heavy footsteps thudded over the solid ground, crushing any leaves and twigs unfortunate enough to find themselves under his enormous boots. 

“If you just wanted to talk, why didn’t you call out before now?” It was Gus and why he hadn’t said anything before now bothered her. 

“Why’d you wait so long to call out, Gus?” The hard edge to her tone sounded sharper than usual, but she was so irritated with him. Who knew how long it would take her to find her way back now?

“I kept thinking you’d stop.” His shadow appeared back the way she’d come, then in the gloom, it slowly grew and clarified, the closer he got to her. He stopped two paces away and held onto a nearby tree, a lop-sided grin on his face. He was the deep orange-y red of of Tsifi’ra and the dark forest couldn’t dim the brightness of his eyes. Even as far from her as he was, she had to look up to meet his far-too-cheerful gaze. 

“Why are you following me, Gus? What’s going on?” Myrl wasn’t having any of his goofy nonsense this dawning. She scowled at him. He was hard enough to deal with in the shop, always joking around and laughing.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You always come this way and I wanted to see what was so fascinating. That’s all.” 

Skeptical, she glared at him for a long time. Why was it Andurdrao always sent the odd ones her way? What had she done to anger the Holy One? Gus’ expression flickered from confusion to frustration to something she couldn’t quite pinpoint, then finally settled on annoyance. Fine. She was annoyed, too.

“The silence,” she muttered. 

“What?” His eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“You had to have heard me. Your hearing has never given you trouble.” 

“Yes, but—aiya! Silence? Why would anyone seek out silence in a forest? Why not just go home?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the noise doesn’t exactly subside when living in a thriving village. There’s always something going on. And sometimes, it seems they make more noise on purpose.” Myrl shook her head and thought of the many times she’d been yelled at, jostled roughly, and cheated simply because her skin was darker than the those who had been born and raised in the village she now called home. Gus was an anomaly, sometimes a tortuous one. 

“How can you prefer such a lonely place, Myrl? Everyone from work is heading to the tavern tonight to celebrate the completion of the statue for the village square. Why don’t you want to come?”

Was he so oblivious? No one wanted her there but the master and him. She shook her head. “You don’t understand. No one wants me there. They’ll be happier if I just disappear until they need my skills again.”

She turned to go, but felt a tug at her elbow, gentle for certain, but unheard of in her home town. She spun on her heal and hissed, “What?” 

He retreated a half-step, but straightened his shoulders. “If you go much farther, I won’t be able to follow. I’d,” he paused, then raised his head but looked off into the distance, “much rather stay with you.” 

Taking a fortifying breath rife with the damp air, rotting vegetation underfoot, and the verdant growth surrounding them, Myrl sighed, then found a boulder which was large enough to seat them both. She planted herself on one side. Hearing the rustle of his hide cloak and feeling a warmth previously absent, she knew he sat far too close for her comfort. Not looking at him, she asked, more quietly this time, “Why are you following me, Gus?” 

“I think you might make a good friend. It’s hard to tell, though. You keep disappearing at the end of each work period. And when I realized what was happening, you’d been with us for a couple minsikin. I wasn’t sure why you kept running away. That first dawning, I thought maybe I had annoyed you.” 

He paused to scan the area around them and bent to pick up a twig near his huge feet. Myrl took the opportunity to really look at him. He had upset her that dawning, but his ill-timed, badly chosen words were only the crown on the ruk’ha. His coloring had taken her aback when they’d been introduced. And the interest that sparked in his eyes made her nervous. She’d heard Drositiri were quick to make amorous overtures. He hadn’t though, and so he kept drawing her eye. It scared her. Her plans didn’t include time for romance. Besides that, her own home life hadn’t exactly been the greatest. More often than not, she was ignored. And when she wasn’t, it was because she’d broken some strange rule she’d never heard of. She wanted no part of family if that’s what family was. 

Gus’ rich baritone rumbled into her thoughts. “The next dawning, I avoided you. Then you kept looking at me, I thought. I couldn’t be sure, though, so I didn’t say anything.” He threw the stick to the ground and ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair and sighed. “I’m so bad at this.”

A reluctant grin trembled on her lips until she ruthlessly squashed it. “Bad at what?”

“Bad at talking to you. Bad at talking to almost anyone, actually.” He huffed and rose from his seat. “Look, it’s obvious you want to be alone. But you’re alone all the time. I didn’t think so much isolation was a good thing for anyone. I,” he clamped his lips together and then scowled, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. And I wanted you to know I was a friend you could depend on.” He backed up a couple steps, shook his head, snorted derisively, and spun intending to leave. 

“But you’re here now.” Myrl could’ve kicked herself. She didn’t want company, did she? “It’s just noisy in the village all the time. I just want the peace and quiet of the forest. You don’t have to leave.” It also didn’t help that she wasn’t sure how to get back to the village. Maybe he knew. Of course, with the way he crashed through the foliage after her, she should be able to track his progress all the way back to familiar ground.

“Are you sure, Myrl?” The hope in his eyes made her feel more uncertain than ever but she nodded anyway. He leaned against the nearest large tree trunk. “So what do you do out here?”

She shrugged. “Listen. Pray. Whatever seems to fit my situation.” But she couldn’t really do any of those things with him not five paces away from her. “So,” she started, shaking her head, “friendship, eh?” She dropped her gaze to the ground and looked at him from behind the curtain of her eyelashes and long bangs. 

Gus nodded once, slowly, without taking his eyes from her face. Then he looked down. “Yes.”

“I can do that. Everyone could use a friend. I think I heard that somewhere before.” She smirked but refused to look at him. Let him wonder for a while. Until his boots appeared right in front of her own. Her gazed flashed up to meet his, only he’d squatted down in front of her. 

Nodding, he held out an open hand. A handshake? Like an oath? Her questions must’ve been apparent in her expression because he said, “It’s just a friendly handshake.” He shrugged. “What? Tanderali don’t shake hands?”

“Only to seal a bargain and only when a paper contract isn’t available.” Tanderali didn’t touch much at all unless they were bloodkyn. Slowly, she put her own hand in his, noting the size difference. 

She was so focused, when he said, “No,” she jumped. “It’s like this.” He took her wrist with his free hand and moved her hand more toward him so that her palm sat against his wrist and his against hers. “It’s a warrior’s handshake, one that’s strong and reliable, like I want our friendship to be.” 

The smile on his face was open and hopeful and for a small moment, she wanted to squash it. What in his life gave him such peace and joy? Could she find out if this friendship lasted, if it was as strong as he hoped for?

Perhaps. Only time and Andurdrao could possibly know the answer to that. She looked into his eyes and without smiling, nodded her acceptance. His replying smile was as radiant as the sun he shared a color with. What had she gotten herself into?


I hope you enjoyed the story and found some useful or encouraging things in this blog post. I enjoyed going back over this story. I'd forgotten about it and it's actually one of my favorite ones. I felt pretty good when writing it. The feeling didn't change after it was completed. And I still feel like I accomplished what I was shooting for over a month later. I think that's pretty awesome!

If you read this far, thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to do so. I hope you'll keep coming back to get more writing prompts, view book reviews, and read more of my written work. 

Thanks again for stopping by. 
Until next time,
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