20170823 155252

Kahasai

United States

Everything that I do does not define me. I define what I do.

hinterlandroving.wordpress.com

Message from Writer

Learn the rules of the game; then learn how to break them in such a beautiful way no one will care.

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked Peer Reviewing!! by camlily (United States)

about 6 hours ago

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Kahasai (United States) liked When It's Cold I'd Like To Die by ~Wonder~ (United States)

about 6 hours ago

20170823 155252
2

Kahasai (United States) published:

Chenquin

PROMPT: Monster Flash Fiction Competition

It's said that it came from the ocean. What's known for sure is that it comes with the rain.
    People are terrified of it. That is understandable. It would be terrifying for you if it was your child who disappeared.
    It's called many things. Spirit, specter, will-o'-the-wisp. It prefers the name Chenquin.

The Chenquin comes at night with the darkest of storms. It hides in the sound of raindrops. It speaks with the voice of wind...

Seeking Peer Reviews

1 day ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) reviewed:

A Guide to Love

PROMPT: Monster Flash Fiction Competition

I like this piece but . . . the dreams feels disjointed with the rest of the piece. I like the dreams themselves (very mysterious) and the conflict with the boyfriend (relatable to so many), but I'm not sure how...

1 day ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) published:

Chenquin

PROMPT: Monster Flash Fiction Competition

It's said that it came from the ocean. What's known for sure is that it comes with the rain.
    People are terrified of it. That is understandable. It would be terrifying for you if it was your child who disappeared.
    It's called many things. Spirit, specter, will-o'-the-wisp. It prefers the name Chenquin.

The Chenquin comes at night with the darkest of storms. It hides in the sound of raindrops. It speaks with the voice of wind...

Seeking Peer Reviews

2 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) published:

LASL's Prompts: Day 16

FREE WRITING

Prompt: Describe a feeling of something that you understand but others might not.

Imagine falling through the sky. Nothing to stop you. Nothing to protect you.
    Now imagine being able to control this. Being able fly.

Imagine that you've just written the perfect piece. Everyone is in awe. They're all in love with it. It is powerful. You can feel it rushing through your veins--the power to sway emotions with the written word. 

Imagine that feeling you used...
Seeking Peer Reviews

2 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked The Slender Man by Ursa Rover

2 days ago

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Wallhaven 496295

Kahasai (United States) started following Gabriel Goodwin (Philippines)

2 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked puppy love by annahaury (United States)

2 days ago

20170823 155252

Kahasai (United States) liked The Squirshl by Gabriel Goodwin (Philippines)

2 days ago

Published Work

Monster Flash Fiction Competition

Chenquin

It's said that it came from the ocean. What's known for sure is that it comes with the rain.
    People are terrified of it. That is understandable. It would be terrifying for you if it was your child who disappeared.
    It's called many things. Spirit, specter, will-o'-the-wisp. It prefers the name Chenquin.

The Chenquin comes at night with the darkest of storms. It hides in the sound of raindrops. It speaks with the voice of wind over water. In its body are trapped screams, almost impossible to hear. Just its presence is enough to make a child sit up straight and listen.
    The Chenquin guides the child down streets, over wood and stone. They travel until they reach the sea. It goes out into the ocean with its silent screams and trust the child to follow.
    At this point the child may hesitate and turn back. He may wander lost for a...

Monster Flash Fiction Competition

Chenquin

It's said that it came from the ocean. What's known for sure is that it comes with the rain.
    People are terrified of it. That is understandable. It would be terrifying for you if it was your child who disappeared.
    It's called many things. Spirit, specter, will-o'-the-wisp. It prefers the name Chenquin.

The Chenquin comes at night with the darkest of storms. It hides in the sound of raindrops. It speaks with the voice of wind over water. In its body are trapped screams, almost impossible to hear. Just its presence is enough to make a child sit up straight and listen.
    The Chenquin would guide the child down streets, over wood and stone. They would travel until they reach the sea. It would go out into the ocean with its silent screams and trust the child to follow.
    At this point the child may hesitate and turn back. He may wander...

LASL's Prompts: Day 16

Prompt: Describe a feeling of something that you understand but others might not.

Imagine falling through the sky. Nothing to stop you. Nothing to protect you.
    Now imagine being able to control this. Being able fly.

Imagine that you've just written the perfect piece. Everyone is in awe. They're all in love with it. It is powerful. You can feel it rushing through your veins--the power to sway emotions with the written word. 

Imagine that feeling you used to get when you were a child; the feeling that you could do anything within your world.

Combine these emotions.

That is what it feels like to be a gymnast.

 

Monster Flash Fiction Competition

Chenquin

It's said that it came from the ocean. What's known for sure is that it comes with the rain.
    People are terrified of it. That is understandable. It would be terrifying for you if it was your child who disappeared.
    It's called many things. Spirit, specter, will-o'-the-wisp. It prefers the name Chenquin.

It comes at night with the darkest of storms. It hides in the sound of raindrops. It speaks with the voice of wind over water. In its body are trapped screams, unheard to all but itself. Just its presence makes a child sit up straight and listen.
    The Chenquin would guide the child down streets, over wood and stone. They would travel until they reach the sea. It would go out into the ocean with its silent screams and trust the child to follow.
    It is at this point the child may hesitate and turn back. He may wander lost for...

Monster Flash Fiction Competition

Chenquin

It's said that it came from the ocean. What's known for sure is that it comes with the rain.
    People are terrified of it. That is understandable. It would be terrifying for you if it was your child who disappeared.
    It's called many things. Spirit, specter, will-o'-the-wisp. It prefers the name Chenquin.

It comes at night with the darkest of storms. It hides in the sounds of raindrops. It speaks with the sound of wind over water. In its body are trapped screams, unheard to all but itself. Just its presence makes a child sit up straight and listen.
    The Chenquin would guide the child down streets, lead the child over wood and stone. They would travel until they reach the sea. It would go out into the ocean with its silent screams and trust the child to follow.
    It is at this point the child may hesitate and turn back. The child...

Love in 13 Words

Fear

The jump in my chest as I come close to losing my joy.

LASL's Prompts: Day 15

Prompt: Write a sentence and then write it again, adding one word to the sentence to make it suddenly dark.

Laughter rang through the halls, as delighted as the taste of lemons.

Laughter rang through the shattered halls, as delighted as the taste of lemons.

* * *

The woman smiled as she examined the dagger.

The woman smiled as she examined the bloody dagger.

* * * 

The man gripped Ralph's hand.

The man gripped Ralph's cold hand.

* * *

Sunlight glared down on the city.

Sunlight glared down on the burning city.

* * * 

Moonlight whispered through the trees and onto the face of a woman.

Red moonlight whispered through the trees and onto the face of a woman.

* * *


 

LASL's Prompts: Day 14

Prompt: A moment you'll never forget.

It's hard to decide . . . There was the time I was National Champion . . . the time I saw a baby mountain lion . . . the day we got Ursa . . . the day we got Ullr . . . Plenty of skunk incidents . . . The time I landed on my head . . . Those times I was embarrassing but didn't know it at the time . . . the day I broke my arm . . . the night I got new classical guitar . . . the first time I heard a mountain lion . . . the time an eagle chased a heron right above my head . . . Or maybe the moments I had to pick up trash that had been strewn down the cliffs and to the river because of a bear. Can I tell a story that I was...

LASL's Prompts: Day 12/13

Prompt 12: What are you like when you're bored?

I'm not usually bored. I'm the sort who does great in situations that would make other people bored.
    I'm changing the question a bit: What I am like when I'm not active/doing something?

I get cranky, irritable, a bit whiny, easily frustrated. How exciting, I know.

Prompt 13: Where would one of the characters you've already created (in other pieces of writing) go to be alone?

Meara hadn't realized how much she liked the company of others until she was forced to be with them. Meeting Raj had helped her realize that not all humans were despicable creatures.
    However, that didn't change that they could still get on her nerves.
    It was times like these when she wished to could be in her second home in the Cursed Forest. The only people who bothered her were the uncanny wolves and a few reckless monsters.
    But...

Environmental Writing Competition

Highway, Human, and Me

When you imagine California, you probably are imagining a place like San Diego: blue skies, ocean, swimming suits, surfers, city, drought, heat, etc.
    Erase this image. You know nothing of the part of California in which I live.
    Once your image slate is clean, continue and listen, because I'm about to tell you about the creature that has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember: State Route Highway 299.

You see those mountains children draw? Take that and fill it with gentle hues of green, gray, purple, blue, and brown. Inflate it in scale to a human. Weaving around the mountains are the rivers that created these teeth of dirt. Multiply by about eight dozen.
    Now, you have my home.
    Welcome to the Trinity Alps, home to the Shasta-Trinity National Forest. The forest grows off those mountains and drinks from the Trinity River. The Trinity twists and turns, sometimes doubling back on itself. Following...

LASL's Prompts: Day 11

Prompt: Create a story with a big plot twist- challenge is it can only be three sentences long.

The sunset was orange, beautiful, like the color of Jaleigh's hair. The sky was turning twilight, wonderful, just like Jaleigh. He turned to Jaleigh and smiled at the blood pooling around what was left of her body.


 

LASL's Prompts: Day 10

Prompt: The last time you cried.

I was laughing. I don't remember why. It's hard to get me to cry unless it's through humor.

LASL's Prompts: Day 9

Prompt: Summarise a movie or book in one sentence.

X-Files: FBI agents Mulder and Scully disagree about everything while trying to solve cases with supernatural mysteries.


 

LASL's Prompts: Day 8

Prompt: Think of your favourite food and try to make it sound as disgusting as possible.

Ah, the glorious burrito. The tortilla like dry skin flaking off in my math. The cheese, wonderful cheese, melted to the consistency of snot and the color of a rotted fish. The onion, usually purple like a bruise, is as crisp as chopped bone shards. The lettuce, fresh and bright, has a few slugs on it. My favorite part--the meat--can vary. Often, the meat of choice is ground beef. Ah, the proteins provided by ground-up muscle, it usually looks like pieces of rotted log cooked with the juices of dead flies.
    Ah, the glorious burrito.

 

LASL's Prompts: Day 7

Prompt: Your relationship with sleep.

Night owl,
Tired for bed but I want to stay awake,
I sit at my computer and my fingers fly,
I am tired but I feel so alive!

Once in bed I relax,
Tired from another day.

I grab my phone and my headphones,
Attach them and place the cushions over my ears,
And I listen to song.

Romantic pieces that set my mind spinning with delicious satisfaction,
Heart-wrenching pieces that makes me reimagine how I wrote that last sad scene,
Gallant pieces that fill me with drums of war and cries of battle.

I usually return to the music of the Fae,
I listen a couple of songs that make me shiver,
Before I listen to the lullabies of sleep.

Sleep, adrift in fog,
Darkness, warmth.

Beethoven's Symphony No. 6, Op. 68, 1st movement, also known as Pastoral,
Rings softly in my ears,
I hit snooze.

Sleep, adrift in fog.
Darkness, warmth.

Music drifts...

LASL's Prompts: Day 6

Prompt: 20 important facts about you 

1. I love writing (no one surprised?).

2. I am homeschooled.

3. I am a classical guitarist and have been practicing for . . .  five years? Four? I don't remember. The latest song that I'm learning is Heitor Villa-Lobos's Prelude No.1 in E minor.

4. I love bacon. I even have a great hat that says so.

5. I do traditional archery with a custom-made longbow that is 44#s at 28'' (44 pounds at 28 inches). I look at those machines they call compound bows and think, you ruin the fun of archery. You are just a machine for throwing stuff that ruins the art of traditional archery. We already have a fun machine to throw stuff: it's called a gun.

6. I have a pair of wolves who I adore and who adore me. They are Ullr and Ursa. Ullr is what you immediately think of when you imagine a wolf: really big...

LASL's Prompts: Day 5

Prompt: Create a superhero whose talent isn't very convenient.


Stuart didn't like his superpower. I think I hated it even more than he did.
    I mean, who wouldn't love to have a superpower? How could he not like it? It's called super for a reason, isn't it?
    Well, you haven't heard his power, yet.

I met Stuart while waiting in line at the local cafe. It was early, we were all cranky and silent, except for this one lady who was holding up the line and being awfully chipper with the cashier. Bob Marley was playing in the background and it was rather warm and cozy inside. That was, until, the door opened and sent a blast of freezing air up my shirt. I couldn't help myself as I turned and glared at the man who had entered the room. He looked like a giant puffball, wearing a giant ski jacket, puffed pants, and worn shoes...

Animal Personalities

"He was like a squirrel: easily distracted and very indecisive. But set him to a chore and he'd go at it and wouldn't stop until he had finished it."

--Kahasai


"She's like panther. Mischievous when she wants to be, but can switch to her more responsible side when needed. She's Always up for good time and can stand her ground when threatened."

--Foxmillionaire


"I'm sometimes like a rooster: easily startled, loud, and ranging from somewhat irritating to extremely annoying. Other times, I'm like a cat: quiet when at ease, laid back, sleeps a lot (when given the chance), and can be enjoyable company for people who can handle and tolerate the sometimes-needy requirements that cats have. 
"One thing those two have in common: they're both either dangerous when threatened."

--Glytch Montoya


"She's like a chicken: She talks a lot, panics easily, is gawked at by the roosters (erm, men), is happy to stay at home, and often squabbles with others....

Character Personalities: Weather, Elements, and Objects

"She was like a Thursday evening, with brown eyes that held memories in them, long, wispy hair, and a warm smile. Content when happy, gray and melancholy when sad; she always had an air of nostalgia around her."

--RainAndSonder


"She was a constellation- no matter what way you looked at her she was beautiful, even if it took you a while to find her."

--RedWriter


"She is like a riptide; innocuous to the eye. Admired on the surface level, but probably wouldn't be if everything beneath was revealed. Pressure makes her lash out, but nobody knows until they are caught in the current."

--Unapologetic Regret


"He was like a tornado. Unpredictable and spontaneous. Always lively, bringing chaos to everything he touches, but also wonder to those who watch him work."

--Foxmillionaire


"I'm kind of like a solar eclipse: rare, slightly mysterious, and will either leave you awestruck or blind, depending on the phase."

--Glytch Montoya


"She was like ice, cold...

LASL's Prompts: Day 4

Prompt: Create a character and send them away to their cranky grandma's house.

(I'm going to use a character I already have, in their world. Otherwise I may take all week creating setting and characters.)


"Wait, I have grandparents?" Jack gaped at his parents.
    "Yes, you do," Jyvg said with a slight eye-roll. "I know most of your friends are orphans of orphans, but don't be so surprised that you have some."
    "Why haven't you ever mentioned them?"
    Byorj settled into his chair, making it creak. The family of three sat around their small dining table. The hardwood floors were a dirty of brown. The walls were made of stone and clay, which was rumored to be harvested from the Cursed Forest. The house was big, big enough only parts of it were used.
    "We have mentioned them," Byorj said, fingering an old notch in the table. "It's difficult to visit them...

The Raven Mask

Gunfire. It echoed over the water, rang in her ears. Blood, gore, bone, bodies, everywhere. The shadow of two giant ships, dangerously close to her small motorboat. Battle above her head. A burning sunset. Fire, wood, char, embers. Hissing ocean, clanging metal. Stinking steam from the ships. Faces floating in the water, mangled and barely recognizable as her family.
    Forest, city, all grown into one. Beautiful faces, painful truths. Screams of pain turned insane. The raven masks, surrounding her, everywhere.Trapping her. Refusing to release her. Beating her. Pecking her. Refusing to relent. Breaking her body, breaking her mind. The masks, everywhere. Ravens, everywhere. Black feather, shining beak, beady eyes. Everywhere. Destroying her. Turning her insane. Turning her into a monster.
    It was a still night. Clouds covered the sky. The thin glow of the moon did nothing to light the city. The streetlamps wavered and flickered. The paint on the street was faded and overgrown with...

Writer's Weirdness

I just spent ten minutes figuring out the exact emotions of an inanimate door.
 

LASL's Prompts: Day 3

Prompt: What are your top three strongest opinions/beliefs and why?

I'm doing my top five because I don't know which is top three.

1. A healthy body is almost equal to a healthy mind. While a healthy mind feeds of the healthy body, the body cannot feed off the mind, no matter how healthy the mind is. If you want to have the strongest mind you can possibly have, then exercise. The blood flow is circulation; like water, it is healthier when it's flowing instead of stagnant. This allows the body to relax to its fullest and tense up to its tightest. It is flexion, and like anything, it is better when it can do well both ways.

2. In regards to money, being an artist is a good way to be poor. When I'm honest with myself, I have to look at the statistics of being an artist in this world and being paid by it. There are thousands...

Food Personalities

"She was like a watermelon, hard at all times, but with something always sweet and refreshing to think of in the winter; some got tired of her in large doses, some just wanted more."

--Engi Abou-El-Kheir


"She was like a walnut, for she had to be broken before anyone knew what she had inside."

--Ursa Rover


"He was like curry, full of spice, colors, and extraordinary flavors. You never know exactly what you are going to get, except that it'll be tasty."

--Foxmillionaire.


"He was the sun, his radiant personality sending rays of positivity all around him. He only wore bright clothing- hot pinks and highlighter-yellows so that it was blinding to look right at him. Not only that, his family revolved around him. They were the planets, pulled into his gravity. 
To be honest, he was kind of hot, too."

--camilly


"I would be an onion; I add flavor to whatever dish I'm served in! Plus, I have many...

Puzzling Pieces of Illusions and Lies

"Do you see? Do you know? But how could you--this is a place where only the ignorant go. After all, it's a place of illusions and lies. 'It's perfect,' so most people think. But it's just a place where the truth hides." Cowards. "Do you agree? Do you actually see? Can it be? But how could you--you'd only be here if you believed.
    "But what if you can? What if you are?" What if this presumption is wrong? "Why are you here? Really. Because this is a place that people go to if they have fear. Fear of everything, fear of nothing. Fear of something. How did you come to be here if you did not follow these rules? How can you be here if you do see, do know, are not tricked by the lies, don't believe, and have confidence in yourself? How?"


"I could ask you the same. You aren't tricked by the illusions, nor...

LASL's Prompts: Day 2

Prompt: The experience of walking down a street for you.

Concrete is everywhere. This city is all flat, vertical and horizontal planes. It's all rough surfaces. How can anyone live here? It's all so level, it makes me want to walk on my heels, which hurts after a bit.

And the buildings! The buildings, so many buildings. They're all so blockish. So . . . robotic in appearance. They are all the same. So . . . unsatisfying. To quote fabulous Wonder Woman: "It's hideous."

And the people! People, everywhere . . . so many humans . . . like ants. There's no privacy. Nowhere. Not inside and definitely not outside. I'd be driven insane if I existed in this part of the world.

Summery of my experience: Humans are crazy, I'm going home.

 

LASL's Prompts: Day 1

LASL = LackingASocialLife

Prompt: Describe the colour blue as if describing it to someone completely blind.

Blue comes in many shades. Blue the color of a bright sky is running your hand through water on a hot, hot summer day. It is pleasantly warm wind. It is the feeling of being calm, tranquil, and happily at peace with yourself.

Darker shades of blue are like the feeling of velvet on your fingers, the scent of rain in the air. It is the sweet comfort of darkness, of being perfectly alone.

Summary of My Novel

Title: Midnight Whisper, Song of Secrets (title still in progress)
Genre: Fantasy

Length: Currently 400+ pages

Summary:

The only way for the mysterious spirits to enter the mortal world of Ashgan and stay there is to be summoned. Summoning spirits is a strict taboo. If it is broken, the penalty is death, no exceptions.
    Suddenly, spirits are appearing in Ashgan and going rampant, doing the impossible: killing mortals. They are being led by a strange, silver-eyed boy, and an unknown entity called only the Commander.

Jack Borlad is a human--or he thought he was. When the spirits start taking an interest in him, he realizes that his color-changing eyes may not be a simple matter of odd genetics, but a truth that will rock the worlds as he know it.

Raj Dariand is a temperamental young human prince determined to get revenge for his friend, who was killed by the spirits. But when he is stranded in a...

HELP!

Fellow writers!

I've been trying to decide on a beginning for my novel for about four years. I've narrowed it down to three and one of those is a speculation regarding a prologue. I have written the first hundred-or-so words to all three versions here and would love feedback on which one is the best.


Version 1

The ThirteenClan appeared almost human, but human they were not. 
    Two of the ThirteenClan sat in a room that flickered with shadow, thrown about by lamplight. The other ThirteenClan called the girl Whisper. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed. 
    The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had collected herself. She resisted staring at the three doors; one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route. 
    The...

Album Review Competition 2018

Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier!

"I'm a horse soldier, timeless, through and through." 

The first time I heard this album, I didn't think much of it. It used to be background music, until I started listening to the stories that were told. Since then, I've grown to love this artist above almost any other.
    While I love all of Corb Lund & the Hurtin' Albertans albums, Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier! has always stood out in my mind because of the song after which the album is named.

Corb Lund is the sort of person whose grin is a bit contagious; he radiates what he's feeling, at least through music. Just by listening to his songs I can hear how much fun he's having by playing with his band. They use simple, but original rhythms and melodies. Combined with Corb Lund's knack for clever and deceptively simple lyrics, he has created a country album to which I can listen, laugh and empathize.
   ...

Intentions and Invocations

Wish Upon A Star

Wish upon a star, 
And what do you see? 

Worlds beyond imagining, 
Infinity. 

We, less than a speck of dust, 
Smaller than anything. 
Look in at ourselves, 
Minds of infinity. 

Wish upon a star, 
What do you see? 

Wish upon a star, 
What do I see? 

I see an unknowable world, 
Infinity. 
Me, less than a speck of dust, 
Smaller than anything. 

What do I see? 
Strength in knowing that the unknowable is forever unknowable, 
Mystery. 

We are all so small in this world, 
All of us. 

I see a star, 
What do I wish? 

Strength to survive in my own world, 
Strength to fight, 
Strength of heart, 
Strength of mind, 
Strength of fist, 
Strength of grit. 

So small in the world, 
I matter. 

So tiny in this universe, 
I have my place. 

Guess what? 
So do you. 

It is here, on Earth, 
As a human, 
Who makes mistakes, 
Who is flawed, 
And mysteriously wonderful. 

Wish upon a star, 
What...

Signing Off

Hello, Don't Kill Me

Dear Catt.

I realize this letter will never reach you, which is why I'm daring to write this. You do not know me, and if you did, you would hate me. You'd quite possibly kill me. I know this because I know you, better than anyone, even yourself.
    I wanted to tell you, Catt, that you have my utmost respect. You have your problems, yes, but I still respect you. I respect you because of your problems, because of how you try to get through them. Your family respects you for the same reason.
    Now, I understand that this means nothing coming from an apparent stranger, so allow me to introduce you to who I am.

At the beginning of last year there was a massive rockslide that blocked the highway for months. As a result, I couldn't go to gymnastics, which has taken up my life for the past eleven-plus years. There was no way...

The Raven Mask

Gunfire. It echoed over the water, rang in her ears. Blood, gore, bone, bodies, everywhere. The shadow of two giant ships, dangerously close to her small motorboat. Battle above her head. Fire, wood, char, embers. Hissing ocean, clanging metal. Stinking steam from the ships. Faces floating in the water, mangled and barely recognizable as her family.
    Forest, city, all grown into one. Beautiful faces, painful truths. Screams of pain turned insane. The raven masks, surrounding her, everywhere.Trapping her. Refusing to release her. Beating her. Pecking her. Refusing to relent. Breaking her body, breaking her mind. The masks, everywhere. Ravens, everywhere. Black feather, shining beak, beady eyes. Everywhere. Destroying her. Turning her into an insane monster.
    It was a still night. Clouds covered the sky. The thin glow of the moon did nothing to light the city. The streetlamps wavered and flickered. The paint on the street was faded and overgrown with plants. The sewers stank. The...

Leave It In 2017

I've never been into the New Year's Resolutions (seriously, these are goals I should be making anyways), but the idea of setting goals and succeeding at them has grown more appealing over the past few months. So, here I go.

Leave in 2017

  • Being constantly worried about doing something wrong.
  • Skipping on math and physics.
  • Being on this computer when I'm not writing and I have things to do.
Things to Keep for 2018
  • My love of writing. (Sound familiar?)
  • My love for listening and playing music.
Goals for 2018 That Are Hopefully Reasonable
  • Daily exercise.
  • Consistently writing.
  • Sharing what I write (does anyone else find this terrifyingly difficult?)
  • Working through math and physics.
  • Read more books.
  • Build up endurance for my wolf-dogs so that we can go on long runs.
So, that's my list. Whether any of this happens is questionable . . . except for the "Things to Keep" list. I'm pretty sure I'm solid about that. =)

...

WILD

Music of the River

Deep in the mountains,
Weaving its way like a green snake,
Water roars and pounds at the rocks.

Each ripple grabs the sand,
Pushing, pulling it around,
Eddying with the sticks and fishes.

Rain turns the forest of silence into a forest of sound,
Each individual drop
Adding to the music of water.

The green rivers rise with the shifting wind,
Bringing sheets of storm through the canyons.

Storm makes rocks shift,
The trees groan and crack,
Weak from the stress and the music of water.

All the while the river rises,
It turns brown as it grabs dirt and anything else in its path.

The river pushes and pulls at the steadfast trees,
Willows, alders, pines, firs, and oaks,
Only the willows hold forever strong.

Alders weaken with the current,
Oaks begin to rot,
Pines and firs struggle to dig roots and hold on.

The river lifts old logs and brings them down with the current,
Logs crash and...

WILD

Music of the River

Deep in the mountains,
Weaving its way like a green snake,
Water roars and pounds at the rocks.

Each ripple grabs the sand,
Pushing, pulling it around,
Eddying with the sticks and fishes.

Rain turns the forest of silence into a forest of sound,
Each individual drop
Adding to the music of water.

The green rivers rise with the shifting wind,
Bringing sheets of storm through the canyons.

Storm makes rocks shift,
The trees groan and crack,
Weak from the stress and the music of water.

All the while the river rises.
It turns brown as it grabs dirt and anything else in its path.

The river pushes and pulls at the steadfast trees,
Willows, alders, pines, firs, and oaks,
Only the willows hold forever strong.

Alders weaken with the current,
Oaks begin to rot,
Pines and firs struggle to dig roots and hold on.

The river lifts old logs and brings them down the current,
Logs crash and dive, ...

Ruler of a World: A Short Story

Who are you to take me away? Who are you to bring me here?

Not an unreasonable question, I'm sure you must think, but the question was tiring. Every night and day I was asked that question. I don't answer, because it wouldn't give anyone any relief.

I watched the worn tip of my boot as it kicked a stone. My gaze followed the stone as it skittered down the dusty Road of Lost Souls. It was always dusty, just as the air always smelled of fresh rain, though it never rained here. Other places, yes, but never on the Road of Lost Souls.

I went for another kick and missed. I looked up, staring around at the nighttime landscape. The distant mountains offered distinct shadows from the light of the moon, full and silver, one of my only companions. Rolling hills surrounded me. There wasn't much in the way of trees, just grass rippling like water in the wind....

Setting as Mood

Harvest Moon

I fled the dark of the house for the open air and nighttime sky.
    High above me, the harvest moon was bright and full. The fields and trees were lit in silver. The dew shone like tears, each individual drop radiating its own small light. The mountains to south were dark and shadowy, hiding details until the ridge top, where each tree was its own piece of pride in the beautiful light. The mountains to the north were lit by the moon, the old burn overgrown with brush and skeleton trees. The pair of mustangs in the field were a pair of liquid shadows, the moonlight so powerful I could almost see their eyes as they looked up at me.
    I stood in the middle of our driveway, gravel crunching under my feet. I shivered and hugged myself, trying to rid myself of the hollow pit echoing in my chest and stomach. Beside me my dog,...

Sky Fire

June 21st, 2008

Thunder and lightning lit night above the forested mountains. The mountains were the sort you'd see in a child's drawing: steep, irregular, with rivers weaving through the bottoms with as much life as a beating heart.
    That night the mountains had disappeared into darkness, lighting briefly to the flashes of lightning, echoing with the roars of thunder.
    Three young girls cheered and screamed to the sound. We loved storms; the rain, the mud, the high river, the wind, the electricity of lightning.
    I ran outside, not bothering to put on shoes or a raincoat, all the better to absorb the storm. My sisters weren't far behind me.
    The night was so dark I could barely see the great big oaks that surrounds my small house. Lightning flashed. We cheered the thunder gods. The dusty, dry trees lit up, and not just with light.
    It wasn't until the next morning that we...

Novel Writing Competition 2017

Midnight Whisper: Excerpt

The ThirteenClan appeared almost human, but human they were not.
    Two of the ThirteenClan sat in a room that flickered with shadow, thrown about by lamplight. The girl was called Whisper, at least by other ThirteenClan. "Catt Midnight" was what she called herself. She had never been one to let irony slip away unnoticed.
    The walls were shoved tight with shelves, books, skulls, feathers, stones, and other random items, some of which she had collected herself. She resisted staring at the three doors; one led to a bedroom, the second led to a room of documentaries, and the third led to her only escape route.
    The desk in front of her was stacked with papers, letters, and pens. A pair of purple shells rested in the corner. She gave them the barest of glances and instead focused on the Thirteenth who sat behind the desk.
    There was little resemblance between them. In fact, the only resemblance was their...

The Cursed Kingdom: A Retelling of a Fairtytale

Prologue

Howls of pain ripped through the night, echoing through the castle and into the town below, even as the car sped through the town, nearly running over curbs in its haste to get away. The castle, bright and cheerful, faded away, the howls fading with it. People screamed and ran from the palace, and one by one, they disappeared without a trace of their existence.
    Even from behind, I could tell that Marco was scared. His knuckles were white against the black steering wheel of the car. He glanced behind him only to check on me and my sisters. "It's okay, girls," he said shakily. "We're almost out of here."
    No, we're not almost out of here. Not until we're out of the woods, which is still to come. Even I knew that, and I was a child.
    "Are we going home?" asked Kathy, though I know that she knew the answer. She sat in the middle, holding...

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

The Soldier's Story

There was earth all around him. In his hand he clutched a sword. What had happened?
    Drifts of memory came to him as he breathed dirt. People feared him. Hated him. He was a monster, wasn't he? Why was he a monster? Because he had killed some folk?
    No, because he had destroyed a kingdom. On his own. How?
    Through the pure force of his will and anger.
    In the end, the King of the Morning Star had killed him. He would forever be known as a monster, but he had destroyed the lie the King had created. He had died, but he also won.

Dialogue Dexterity

The Sunder of Ghosts

Veronica Welker silently sat in her chair, feet on table, one hand behind her head. With the other she fingered one of the loose buttons on her scrubs.
    Through the window she could see the other juvenile prisoners whispering to each other, watching her and the person who sat silently across from her. Their stares were reasonable. In the five, long years since she had been shoved into juvie, there had been only one visit not induced by law.
   The boy who say across from her also wore scrubs. Veronica didn't think it was because she was a high security prisoner. 
   They had been sitting there for nearly three minutes and the boy still had not said a word. He just stared at her, expression bland.
    Her chair creaked. From outside she could hear the chatter of inmates.
    Finally, she'd had enough. She set her feet down and stood. "Listen," she said,...

The King of the Morning Star

The Morning Star with a mournful tear
Cries that I draw near,
Lands ravaged from men and their scars,
This all started because I wanted the head of the King of the Morning Star.

They leave their dead to the scavengers,
Creators of the chaos of ravagers,
War created by men left to scatter the earth,
I among it, fighting for all that I am worth.

Leave the dead to the vultures,
Allow me to destroy your cultures,
Run for I tell no lie,
I am coming, so go and hide.

You call me a monster of night,
A creature that hides from the light,
I will not deny you're wrong,
It is what makes me strong.

Humans are worthless to me because of what I am,
They always fight me and believe their King's sham,
I will destroy their King,
Because I can.

Those who run to not face my deadly wrath,
They who choose their own path,
They...

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

The Soldier's Story

There was dirt all around him. Clutched in his hand was a sword. What had happened?
    Drifts of memory came to him as he breathed dirt. People feared him. Hated him. He was a monster, wasn't he? Why was he a monster? Because he had killed some folk?
    No, because he had destroyed a kingdom. On his own. How?
    Through the pure force of his will and anger.
    In the end, the King of the Morning Star had killed him. He would forever be known as a monster. But he had won. He had died, but he also won.

If I Spoke My Name: Trinsia (aka, Dream Amber)

If I spoke my name the land will be burned away,
The fire will scorch the dragon where he lays,
The nighttime will cease to be as the sun rules all,
The only thing to survive is the Fyrtha Oknol,
Who ride across the land as if it is a firy sea,
Making sure all water flees,
Making sure Ashgan is burnt to a crisp,
The smoke like a firy wil'o'whisp,
That will keep the spirits away,
Who'd want to stay?"

This is a dry land,
Made of fire and sand,
I may be known as Trinsia,
Known as Woyshu e'Tella:
Warrior of Lightning,
This is the song the bards are writing,
And as a commander
I order you to say this:
Dream Amber.

So now you know my name,
Now the world will burn to flame.
Congratulations!

Why I Write

Why I Write: A theory using a shed

There is a shed. It is full of guns and ammunition, all waiting to be used. Sometimes someone chooses a gun, takes out the bullets, and goes out shooting, having fun blowing up tannerite (an explosive) and just enjoying themselves.
    Some days they don't go shooting. In this time a fire starts. It is not the first time. For whatever reason, whenever the guns aren't used, a fire begins. It billows smoke, burning wood and grass. It crackles and makes its way into the shed. It creeps over the ground and races up walls until it reaches the ammunition.
    CRACK-BOOM! POP!
    Bullets begin flying everywhere, breaking through the wood of the shed and burying themselves into trees. Anyone standing near is lucky not to be grazed. Bullets shoot out in random directions, making it impossible for anyone to come near to stop the fire. It has to be allowed to burn itself out.

Using this analogy, if the...

This Is Justice So They Claim

Shadow rise, shadow fall,
Writhe up and hide all,
Black and red on cobblestone in sparkling light,
Bloody hell walks the night,
Cries and screams of desperate pain,
This is justice, so they claim.

Running, hiding,
Fighting, lying,
For all their efforts they can't escape,
The destinies forced upon them to become their fate,
Forever guilty on the trial of the Black Day,
This is justice, so they claim.

The Day for Discovering Truth is what it was,
No longer, just a distant memory barely a fuzz,
Now it's black and red on cobblestone,
Outcast and alone,
Blood on cobblestone in the sunny light,
It's a bloody hell they call just and right.

They used to have a family and a home,
Now they're forsaken and alone,
With powers no one understands,
With that hateful voice whispering, "Yes, you can,
You can use this power to make yourself right,
It just may take a bit of a fight."

A voice...

If I Spoke My Name: version 2

Speak my name and control power,
Power that will make you cower,
I'm what makes the spirits free,
This power is genetically me.

What can I do?
I can determine what will happen to you,
I can determine whether you'll live or die,
By your name I can determine whether you speak truth or lie.

Hold me here by the power of my name,
Tell me to go away by the power of the same,
You can't tell me what is wrong,
Save it for someone less strong.

If I Spoke My Name: version 1

If I spoke my name the world would tumble round,
Afraid to make a sound,
That doesn't make sense I know,
But listen close and I'll give you a show.

Watch close and heed me well,
Under the earth demons dwell,
They are listening so they may hear,
Hoping so they will understand all your fears.

Feel the shaking earth as they try to understand,
Fire, water, earth, air, and the human hand,
Speak my name and they will know,
The world's turnings and the things that grow.

Ruler of a World: A Short Story

If ever that Book of Dead Names grows too heavy, I’d be happy to share the weight.
    I snorted to myself as I walked the Road of Lost Souls to home. Not likely.
    That sentence was a fragment of an ancient conversation between myself and my friend, who was such the opposite of me we could be day and night.
    With each step I took, the Book of Dead Names felt heavier in my pocket, a weight that had been growing from the beginning of time. There certainly been times when I’d been tempted to share the load, but I’d always had a strict sense of duty and fate. It was not time. Not yet time to share it. I’d carry it until I was crushed, until I met my demise, and once again it would be my friend’s turn to carry the Book until time once again proved to be the ultimate master.
    In...

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