Author Journey: August 25, 2023 - The Process Continues & Writer's Challenge Finale

 Welcome to the scenic route! We've finally come to the end of another week and are nearing the end of the month, as well. Was it just me or did that time fly by? I have a few things to share with you so I hope you'll read all the way through today's post. 

Author Journey: The Process Continues

This past week has been a doozy in a long line of doozies. I just keep wondering, "Is it today, God? Will the Savior come back today?" Surely, the day is knocking on the door. 

And while I'm waiting, I keep looking into things and progress happens inch by slow inch. I've started sharing chapters of Surge in a writer's group. I'm hoping to get some feedback and a few sets of eyes should pick up on any glaring content errors or typos.

I haven't worked with resizing the covers for Ripples and The Tale of Outh'n Durr. When I have time, I'm just exhausted. I could actually go take a nap right now, except I can't literally do that. I'll keep trying to get that done as soon as possible, though. I'm ready to get book one circulating as a hard copy again, update those copies I have at the local libraries, and feel better about the whole thing. 

I did manage to clean my desk and keep it clean (so far) this week. That's been a blessing. A clean work space makes me feel like I can breathe easier. 

Writer's Life: The Craziness Continues

Yep. Like I said earlier, this week was a doozy. I worked Monday and Tuesday. I'm so glad I did because I'm not certain how many days per week I'll actually be able to get over there. The woman who owns the business is someone I grew up with. She knows the things I have going on with my parents and such and is working with me on scheduling. I'm blessed to still have a job. 

I started going back to the gym this week. Tuesday was my first day back in probably three or more weeks. I surprised myself and got a good arm and back workout in. I'm still sore today, but that's a good sign. And my bum knee doesn't bother me any worse than usual. I'm pretty sure the working out will help it feel better as long as I do that correctly. 

Spartacus is a hoot. His favorite person is my husband who didn't really grow up around animals. Add to that he was attacked by a dog in his younger years, he's not usually huge on animals. We're working together on that, though, and Spartacus is a huge help. Some of our friends have a sweet dog who is in and out of their home. That's a help, too. 

Anyway, back to Spartacus and his hootiness, if he wants to play, he'll bap our legs as we walk across the floor. Or if we're sitting at our desks, he'll gently tap our chairs or our legs or feet with one paw. If we don't pay attention, he'll meow or lightly put a claw out. If we still don't get up, he'll sink all the claws in, but it doesn't usually come to that. No one is eager for that to happen, not even Spartacus. He really is the sweetest, most gentle house cat we've ever had. Even Sir Olly Ox'nfree Toebeanz was sassy and snobby. He could be a real jerk. 

It's been so dry and so hot. I keep praying people will not throw cigarettes out the windows while they're driving. We saw a couple of places along one of the interstate highways that passes through our area where the grass had been burned in patches. This heat is crazy...but not completely unexpected, if you're a Bible reader and believer. 

Ready for the word prompt? Let's keep going...

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 (i.e. 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. 

This list could open up a door in several different genres. Y'all have fun!

Writer's Challenge: #abouttheauthoraugust 2023 - Week 3, Day 5

The final prompt is to run an August goal check-in. I learned a long time ago that goal-setting isn't for me if I keep the goals too rigid. I also have a brain that LOVES making lists. My goal lists are often too long to accomplish. 

So to combat that, I've tried to get my brain to be OK with not completely knocking out all the goals. I've also worked on reminding myself there are no perfect people on this planet and there are oddities and awkwardness in everything we do. That's completely alright. Goals are just guidelines to help us cross the finish line. They can be changed and refined as needed to complete any project or reach any dream. 

That being said, my August goals were: 

• Blog every weekday - So far so good.
• Read a lot of books - So far so good.
• Take a break from editing. - So far so good.
• Read my Bible faithfully - So far so good.
• Pray regularly - So far so good.

I guess I'll need to think up some goals for September. Check out next Friday's post to see if I remember to do that.

Book Snippet: Surge (Children of Y'Dahnndrya book 2) 

As I hoped, here's chapter one of Surge for your reading enjoyment. You can see how it grew and changed from that one page full of hastily written chicken-scratch. Let me know what you think in the comments below...

Chapter 1

A Rude Awakening

“What do we have here, Outh’n?” 

A cold, sharp point prodded Ya’el Shirasdatir’s bare shoulder. She groaned, her heartbeat speeding up when her eyes refused to open.

“I don’t know, Eiva. A wee gurba, perhaps.” Another rough nudge with the butt of some kind of stick followed the answer.

“Mayhap. Well, gurba? Do you have a name?” The velvety alto with a slight lisp — Eiva? — firmly pressed the point against her, this time digging into her ribs. 

Ya’el shrieked, a rusty gate kind of squeak, and jerked upright. Her eyes remained shut no matter what she did. Who were these annoying people? Why were they bothering her? Didn’t they know why she was here? Wait! Why were they here? Weren’t Serafin and Edrea alone?

When she opened her mouth to speak, nothing happened. She cleared her throat and tried again. Though sweat rolled across and down her skin, her mouth and throat were as dry as Mesna’ya Canyon. The raw sound which eventually forced its way past her lips was nothing like it should’ve been, rusty and crackled. The vibration of sound carried sharp slivers of searing pain rushing along with it. It reminded her of a nasty sickness she’d caught as a young child. Tears trapped behind her sealed eyes burned without release.

“I’m Ya’el Shir—” She got no further. A solid rap on top of her head almost made her bite her tongue. She growled low in her throat, immediately regretting it.

“That’s enough,” Eiva snapped.

“Wrong answer,” Whispered menace echoed in her ear. The one named Outh’n sneered, “You’ve no name here.” 

Ya’el’s eyes finally popped open. Light trickled through the thatch of branches overhead. Dim as it was, it shattered the dam halting her tears. She gasped at the pain, gaining a new respect for those recovering from serious eye injuries. 

“Wrong answer indeed. You’ve come here bare of everything, bare as the moment you were spawned.” The woman’s speech brought Ya’el’s naked state forcefully to her attention and she scrambled to cover herself. Outh’n snickered but Eiva fleered. “You’ll have nothing until you’ve earned it, puny gurba.” The woman’s smile, blurry though it was, promised suffering in Ya’el’s future. Had she mistaken everything she’d been shown in her Visioning? Misunderstood every word whispered in her ear upon her arrival at Yacan?

Outh'n's lilting words in a rich tenor halted her thoughts as he echoed, "Aiya, you've come with nothing. Only Edrea knows how you'll end up. Edrea and the Creator." He rapped her shins with his staff and she yelped. He dropped the singsong teasing and growled, "Stand and follow. And don't make the mistake of trying to run away. You're nowhere near fast enough to escape me."

Of that, Ya’el had no doubt. 

“And put this on,” Eiva sneered. “Edrea has graciously provided for you, gurba. Wear it and be glad she spared a thought for one such as you.”

Eiva was obviously Genzetti. The female was head and shoulders taller than her companion, well-muscled and broad at the shoulders. The deep purple woman was stamina and strength personified. She was also a woman of impeccable taste, having her hair expertly coiffed in several braids and intricate coils. 

While Outh’n’s origins were a bit more difficult to pick out, his abilities were pretty obvious. Though shorter than Eiva, he was wiry, the muscles in his arms and legs looked as if they were built for speed. A garish, hide eyepatch embossed with a vine pattern which had been painted in brilliant green covered his left eye. That had to be a disadvantage. His straight, dark brown hair brushed thin, arched eyebrows which were tilted in and down toward his strong, slightly crooked nose. His eyes, more the color of golden-brown hane’en, were lighter than his hair, though both seemed to shoot lively sparks. A deep golden tan betrayed a love of the outdoors. 

Both were clothed in hide armor worn over simple sleeveless tunics and fitted breeches the color of the foliage surrounding them. Ya’el envied them their coverings. Scowling, she stood slow and reluctant, shielding her nakedness as much as possible until she could don the simple wrap the woman had thrown at her. 

She wasn’t so much ashamed of her bare state. The M’Neshunnayan Clan, her people, considered nakedness a natural thing. There were some who shunned clothing completely during the warmer minsikin. She wasn’t usually among their number, though. And for out-clanners to see her nakedness so easily? She threaded her arms through the proper holes and overlapped the edges at her waist, tying it closed with the attached cloth belt. With a mental shake, she held her head high. Too bad she’d trimmed her hair to her shoulders before leaving home with her siblings all those dawnings ago. It would’ve made her feel a bit more protected. 

The nasty pair led her down a wooden path and into a vine-enclosed tunnel. Soft green-yellow and blue-green light radiated from every direction. Ya’el had never seen anything like the strange lamps which dotted the walls of the tunnel in odd groupings — some high, others low. In some places, two or three clumped together, in others, one sat alone. 

Ya’el gaped, realizing the lamps were actually glowing flowers and leaves and the odd placement, the result of a plant growing where it will. Lost in awe, she stumbled over a root in the pathway, hissed in pain and was prodded in the center of her back with the butt of Outh’n’s spear. 

“Pay attention,” he barked. 

Ya’el almost snapped back, but clamped her lips together. She couldn’t stop the glare smoldering in her eyes, though. He raised his hand as if to strike her and stopped. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. If she had, she would have missed the admiration which flashed in his expression. 

“I’ll not hesitate if one of those pretty little feet steps outside the line we place you on, gurba.” Outh’n sneered and looked down his nose as he towered over her prone form. The unfairness grated against her pride. Oh, how she wanted to take those words and cram them so far down his throat he’d be hacking for three dahlsikin. She tamped it down. Surely this was some kind of test. She rose and continued on the path making certain to watch her steps instead of the tempting new scenery passing by in her peripheral vision. 

Without warning, the leafy ceiling vanished. 

Thank you so much for checking out today's post. I hope you enjoyed it, but whether you did or not, please do leave your comments below. I only ask that you remain courteous and on topic. 

I hope to keep up with the blog well in the coming week. My mom is still healing but also still struggling. Continued prayers are appreciated. I'll be pretty busy helping her and my dad while she's recovering. I'm so glad I can do that, though. It's a blessing to be able to help the two people who ensured I made it to adulthood successfully. 

Next week, there will be word prompts, book reviews, and author journey/life updates as usual. If this chapter is well received, I may post as many as five of them, one per week. I won't be able to post more than that, though. 

And now, I must run. Hope you see you next week. Bring your creative friends along! 

Until next time,
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