Cage Dunn's Blog, page 72

Update: NaNoWriMo Fight, Flight, Freeze

This is the Freeze moment.

The ‘out of the blocks’ momentum was good, the daily sprints were good (because there were more than one in a day, so it’s easier), and the expected count of 25k by the end of a week was accomplished (early!!).

And now? Well, the whole kit and kaboodle is out there, waiting on the line of story, to see what happens. Of course, it’s missing the important stuff like setting and [what’s that other stuff? Have to look it up when I can think of it] then there’s the review of ‘what works and what doesn’t?’ moment. That’s now. The Freeze moment.

I need to do a re-read. I need to check that the things I need to put up front are mentioned – in the story, and not just in the notes – and that there’s a momentum that leads up to ‘specific’ elements of the story. And to get rid of, or overplay, the cliche moments into the [ things they’re meant to be ].

I feel the need to stop and review and revise – I’m not proofreading, not grammar-checking. It’s not that I don’t care about these things – just not now! The story is too important – and story is this:

A Character (the reader connects with in a close and visceral manner) in Conflict (I think I have that bit, but …) who Struggles (the plot and journey) towards Resolution (will they win, lose, or draw?).

Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that simple structural element to story. A character in conflict who struggles towards a resolution.

It’s too easy to get carried away with ‘this bright idea’ or ‘that intriguing thing’ or ‘what if’ moments.

I have to stop and recall the simplicity of story and play to that, and not my wild ideas (of course, there are going to be wild ideas, but they may not belong in this story, at this time, etc., etc.).

So, the story: The Council of Creatures of Magic is falling apart. Air and Water are no longer represented. Earth has cheated and manipulated until this stage was reached – so he can make himself Overlord of All Magic.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Animal Farm … what genre was that? [See, another distraction!]

Back to where I was – where was that? Oh, here! Yes. I’ve written the bones, the skeleton, except for the ‘final showdown’ mid-way through Act 3. There are bones there for that, but I want to leave it for a few days so I can make it ‘same, but different’ and give it just a touch more power and presence. I want MORE!

So, there I go, back to the grind – using the Freeze moment of Fear to Review and Revise (but not Edit).

And that’s how I fool myself into moving forward, again and again and again. Until ‘The End’ and sometimes, beyond.

Ciao!

More NaNo Madness

Well, it hit this morning. The dead-brain-I-can’t-do-this-it’s-a-stupid-idea moment that dragged out into a few hours, then after some rattling around in the garden, doing compost, picking asparagus and loquats, the mind started churning over little bits of this and that, and I thought – Ooooooh, that’s why! And (no, I didn’t leave the pile of goodies outside; I took them into the kitchen!) I ran inside and plonked down and rattled out some notes (hand-written to start with), and now I know the ‘why’ and some of the ‘how’ (yes, I already had an idea, but now – now it is more, and that is what time away does: it gives a more rounded picture) and I’m ready to rock and roll!

First, though, I have to do the coffee. It’s the first time I’ve had to resort to the coffee, but I still feel so tired in the body, so sore in the neck (wonder if it’s from all the chair-time?), that if I don’t do the caffeine fix, nothing will happen but pain (followed by pain-killers, which are also thought-killers).

So, onto the story. Would you like a peek? Just a tiny look at a smidgeon of the first draft. Well, okay. Here’s look at Scene 2 (first draft, so likely to be amended during review/revise/edit phase):

“It’s supposed to be a quick and easy extension. As always. As usual.”

Cocky heard it said by almost every group as they passed out the door. That’s what it was supposed to be – an extension, voted for by the invited attendees to the Conference, as representatives of each country or zone.

“What now?” he didn’t realise he’d spoken aloud, but Roo glared back.

“What now?” Roo shivered his shoulder. “Now we get Cat as the Overlord of Magic, of course. Who’d be stupid enough to even put themselves in the ring? Who’d agree to that? Remember that rule about volunteering? And it takes all three reps to agree. If you two volunteered us, I’d say ‘No’ anyway – so don’t get any ideas.” He shoved his chest out and raised his toes.

The last group of six crowded past.

“As if you’d get picked, you great pillock,” the Ostrich said to Roo as they passed. “You couldn’t think your way out of a field, let alone through the Puzzle of the Ages. Stupid creature.”

The next comment was worse.

“The only reason the conference is here, you morons, is because it’s so far from the real world that no one can get up an army to stop him. That’s what it’d take, you know. An army – got one hidden somewhere, have you?”

Laughter followed them out the door.

The guard-cats were gone. No one remained but the three of them.

“They think we’re hicks,” Roo huffed.

“We are,” Croc said. “Not only that, we’re stupid hicks for not being prepared for this.”

“No,” Cocky said. “There must be something in the Book of Law to stop him taking over.”

A low vibration rumbled through the ground. Dragon stuck her head in and Cocky spread his wings and lowered his head, crest down, up, down.

“Don’t,” Dragon said. “I am not deserving.”

“What did you do to Kraken to make him do this?” Croc hurled at Dragon. “Abdicate – to have no magic at all, ever, for the creatures of Water! What did you agree to?”

“Not I,” said Dragon. “We were given no choice, no option. The time he’s had to organise this – due to the apathy,” she glared at Croc, “of all the creatures.” She looked down. “But mainly, it is to do with his political power now. He has allies, always making deals and filling contracts to those who do his bidding. Do you not see? It has taken centuries, but he now holds all the power, and let me warn you – this is just the beginning.” She looked around, up, behind. “If we hadn’t offered to stand down, he’d have asked us to make our case for continuance. It was never going to be a normal meeting. It was always going to come to this. And you are-”

The flap of the lectern lifted and Ginger poked his head out. Dragon turned and left the arena. Her words drifted back. “I will remain a representative until the end of the conference, and no longer.”

Roo lifted his head to watch her go.

“Good riddance,” he said. “Let’s go get a drink.” He turned towards the exit.

“No,” Cocky flapped her wings. “Croc, can you get rid of that Ginger? We need to discuss this, see what it’s really all about. We need to get in touch with the office, see what they can do.”

“But that’ll take hours. Everyone’s going to be at the pub. We should join them and see what’s being said in the here and now,” Roo said.

“No! Don’t you understand? We’ve been had. We, as the host country, are responsible for supplying the Candidates for the test. It’s in the Law of Ages, added at the agreement of the last meeting.” Cocky checked the manual on his tablet. “In Antarctica. When almost no one sent a rep.” He crested his feathers. “Don’t you see? If there’s no volunteer from any other country, region or zone, it’s up to the host country to provide …” He couldn’t continue.

Roo slumped to the ground with a puff of dust as Croc swung her tail back and forth, creating a dust wallow any Kangaroo would be proud of.

“Shit. I didn’t … Are you sure? I mean, dead cert?” Roo threw himself up, leapt in a circle, thumped his tail harder than necessary until Cocky coughed. “We can’t do that! I mean, we have to get out there and find a sucker – I mean, volunteer.” He bounded towards the door. “Well, come on, you two – we’ve got some feathers and scales to ruffle and grease.”

“It’s too late for that,” said Croc. “We’re stuffed. Might just as well hand it over and-”

“I’ll not live with a Cat being overlord of magic!” Cocky screamed. “Never!”

“Do you think your one voice, or even the voices of all the creatures of Air, could out-vote the most prolific and well-placed candidature for Overlord?” Croc kept her voice calm, but her scales shuddered and hummed. “Dragon’s right. We’re stuffed. And we did it to ourselves.”

“There must be a way.” Cocky looked at Croc.

Croc shook her head. Cocky glared at Roo.

Roo shook his head.

The delegates began to re-enter the stadium. No one spoke, but they all glanced warily at the Australians as they walked past. Sad looks, pitying looks.

They knew.

Copyright Cage Dunn 2017 (part of NaNoWriMo Project: Kraken, Dragon, Cat aka Kangaroo, Cockatoo, Croc.

Kraken, Dragon, Cat – aka – Kangaroo, Cockatoo, Crocodile

Who will be the Overlord of Magic?

 

[image error]And this is the first instalment of the NanoWriMo project: Scene 1 (first draft, of course). Copyright Cage Dunn 2017.

 

They rounded the corner and pulled up in a puff of dust. The entrance was blocked by a fenced and funnelled entrance, and the only way in was guarded. By cats. Ruffian cats. Big, hissy, guard cats.

Cocky’s crest went up and he squawked.

“Guards!” he said. “What’re they doing here? What’s the issue with security? Why weren’t we told?” He remained in the air. “And I ain’t going in through a cat-search, thank you very much!” He shuddered at the thought of those sharp-tipped claws getting to the soft skin under his feathers.

“Come on, you two!” Roo shoved at Croc as he bounded up from behind. “The sooner this is over, the sooner we get back to the pub.”

“It’s not appropriate to have guards, let alone cats,” Croc said as she continued towards the entry. “But I’ll warn them not to touch you, bird, so come on and let’s get in there.”

Roo shook his head and stood up tall. He pounded one foot on the ground. “I’ll tell ’em where to get off if they try anything.”

“Will you just pull your head in for once? Wasn’t last night bad enough?” Cocky crested at Roo. He was the reason they were so late, on the first morning of the conference, on the first – and now, probably only – occasion that Australia hosted the International Conference of Creatures of Magic and their Representatives. He nodded at Croc, “Get us in without trouble, please Croc,” he said as he flapped past the posturing of Roo.

Roo harrumphed, but he lowered himself and followed, albeit not quietly, not gracefully, and not at all like a dignified representative of the Earth creatures of the country.

“Your passes, please,” the snooty ginger cat extended his paw to stop them. “Please read the rules carefully before entry – you! Wait until your pass is cleared!” His paw reached out to stop Roo from reaching down to his pouch.

Roo shook his head. “This is my pocket, pussy-cat. It’s where I have my pass. Like to tell me where you keep yours?”

Croc slid her tail up behind Roo and ruffled it against him. He scowled, but handed over the pass.

“And ours, if you please, Roo,” Cocky said as he maintained his position high enough to avoid the leap of Ginger, who looked as if he could go ten rounds with the Warthog Roo picked on last night.

Roo dug into his pouch and pulled out the other two passes.

“Oh, the reps from the host country?” Ginger purred. “The ones who were supposed to be seated in the front row?” He smirked. “Well, as the last – the very last – to get here, you get the aisle. And you’ll be sitting on the steps, ’cos some sort of idiot failed to provide enough seating for all the arrivals.” He sashayed to the roped off entry and opened it with a flourish. “Enjoy,” he said as he waved them in. “Idiots.”

Cocky almost squawked at him, but it only took one look into those evil yellow eyes to change his mind. Cats had become way too dangerous of late. And numerous. He looked around as he went inside the arena. There were cats at both ends of each row of seating.

Guards, armed and attentive, and not watching the proceedings. Paws at weapons, shoulders tensed and wary. Were they expecting trouble? Here? Cocky landed next to Croc and waited until she nodded before he stepped up onto her shoulder. So, Croc felt it as well.

What was going on?

Roo slid into place beside them and began digging at the sand.

“Sit down!” the guard ordered. “Proceedings are underway!”

Roo harrumphed and slid to the ground, sliding his thick tail to within a bare hair of the cat’s face. Cocky groaned. Why couldn’t the big galoot behave himself? Especially here and now, while Australia – the country with his big ugly mug on the flag – needed him to present his best face, not his bloody belligerent self.

“Roo,” Cocky sidled as close as possible to be quiet – well, quiet for a cockatoo, that is. “Get the agenda – I want to see what’s on today.”

“Quiet,” growled Croc. “Listen. This is important!”

Roo slapped his tail on the dirt.

“Shut up, Roo, or I’ll snap that bloody tail off and then see how you go in the bar-fights, bud!”

Cocky turned to the front to see what’d got under Croc’s scales.

Kraken was at the podium, speaking low, in whispers that sounded like a slow turning of the tide.

“The last Cetus was my father,” Kraken said as he swung his tentacles over the table in front of him. “I am the last Kraken. There is no other. I am one, alone and unable to hand over to my children. I am become stone, one of the un-living, ancient beyond understanding. I am done. The war between Land and Water, the distribution of gifts from Earth to his warriors, has taken its toll. Perseus took the future of not only my father, but myself. I can no longer fulfil my function on this Council.” He raised himself to full height. “I advise this Council and all the Conference representatives that I will be standing down – nay, I will be abdicating my position at the closing bell.”

A roar split the air. The other Council members – Dragon and Cat – didn’t look surprised, didn’t even look up at Kraken.

Cocky rose in the air to avoid the angry eruptions from Croc. She hadn’t known about this, of that he was certain. And from the noise and bickering in the crowd, no one who wasn’t on the Council of three knew beforehand either.

Where was that agenda? Should they have known about it?

Cocky reached into Roo’s pouch and rustled around.

“What’re you doing, Cocky?” Roo shoved Cocky off. “If you want something, ask!”

“The agenda! Get the agenda – who knew about this? Do we get to vote?” Croc turned her vicious smile to Roo, raised her lip to show teeth.

Roo dug rapidly through his pouch before finally withdrawing the notice.

Cocky reached for it, and held it before Croc as they all read it.

Item 1: Status of Incumbent Council Holders.

He looked further down. There were no other items on the agenda. Lists of activities, of discussions and speakers and other stuff. Not one single word about changes within the Council of Magical Creatures and their Representatives.

“Silence!” The roar over the crowd silenced some, but not all. All faces turned to the podium as Kraken turned away and resumed his position at the end of the table. Cat stood upon the lectern.

“We have other business to discuss. Please await the end of this session prior to,” he paused and licked his paw, “agitating for discussion.” He turned his tail to the crowd and nodded to Dragon.

Dragon rose and walked to the lectern. She patted at the microphone and sucked in a deep breath. Small flames and a not insubstantial puff of smoke rose when she raised herself to full height and extended her wings.

“Kraken has spoken as a unity of One. I am Dragon, the last of my kind, another unity of one. Dragon is now nothing more than myth and legend thanks to allies of Earth and misrepresentations of our depredations. I am the last, and as the last, I desire to withdraw my candidacy to this Council.” Another roar followed her words, but she blew a long blast of flame along the walkway, and silence reigned for a moment. “Effective at the end of the Conference.”

Cocky couldn’t believe it. Dragon? Resigning? How could that be? Why didn’t anyone know about this before the conference?

What was going on here?

Cat walked back to the podium as Dragon vacated the area. He perched and preened and waited until the crowd turned their attention back to him.

“There will be a vote, of course, because we are a democratically-elected Council. So, to business. A vote to accept the abdication of Kraken?”

It had to be a quorum. Of the ninety-three attending representatives, it required a 51% vote to pass. Cocky counted the responses. Sixty. He pulled his feathers in tight.

“So much for getting out of here early,” groaned Roo, who hadn’t voted. He leaned in close to Croc. “Wasn’t it supposed to be a formality? Like every other time? Is this for real, or is there a play on for higher taxes to get them to stay on?”

“The motion is accepted and passed,” the disembodied voice said. “The second motion: A vote to accept the resignation of Dragon. Please indicate your vote now.” Cat swung his tail in lazy motions over the lectern as the attendees responded.

Sixty votes for acceptance. Now Air and Water had no representative.

“Who can we get to replace Kraken?” moaned Croc. “Who in the world of creatures of water could demand the respect he got?”

“Respect?” Roo gasped. “He’s been avoiding his duty for millennia. And Dragon. Good riddance, I say, and bring on the new candidates.”

Croc snapped at him. Cocky glared at him.

Cat stood and indicated for silence with his tail straight up in typical semaphore.

“That is not the last of the requirements,” he began. A slight smirk lit his mouth and glowed in his green eyes. “As the representative who has held this position actively – the only active member – I not only accept the declarations of removal, I also request the members of this conference to consider this:

“Kraken and Dragon have failed in their duty for millennia-”

“See, I said that!” said Roo.

Croc smacked him with her tail as Cocky rose with a squawk to avoid the coming trouble.

“-and I have taken up the slack from their absence.” He walked the top of the lectern like a model, slinky and shiny. “I demand the right to be considered for Overall Rule of Magic, based on the Law of Singularity. Of course, according to the laws written, that can only be considered if no suitable candidates can be found for the Tests, or if the candidates fail, and therefore, leave only Earth – oh, that’s me – to undertake the burden again.

“Candidates who pass the test and are capable of representing the needs and rights of Creatures of Magic would, of course, take up the positions of Council Elders. However, if these positions are not filled, or the Tests failed, I demand the right to be considered.

“Do I need to ask for a vote?”

Absolute silence filled the arena for a few seconds that felt like hours. Cocky couldn’t even breathe, let alone squawk. His crest lifted and fell, lifted and fell. He needed to say something. He needed to stop this. How? What would it take?

It wouldn’t be fair for Earth to represent all three elements. Impossible. Although Cat had been doing it, as he said, for so long, and things were … things were-

“Right, as there has been no objection, I take it as accepted that volunteers will place their glyphs in the hat to be drawn after the break.” A short, sharp rap on the podium. “We shall reconvene in a quarter turn of the shadows.” Cat stepped down.

Kraken and Dragon remained at the table.

The crowded arena gulped as one, before a sudden eruption of disgust and anger and fear engulfed them all.

“Shit,” Cocky said to no one. “Shit. We’re done for. That’s what’s he’s been working toward all this time, isn’t it. And we didn’t see it. That bloody Cat has stuffed us.”

Croc didn’t move. Even when creatures shoved at them to get out, she remained silent as a log.

Roo shrugged and moved to the side, but didn’t go out with the crowd.

“Who we gonna vote for?” Roo asked.

“No, Roo. The question is: who is Cat going to approve for the quest? Who’s going to be stupid enough to put their hat in the ring, knowing it’s rigged? That’s the question. Who’s going to be stooge for the Cat?”

[image error]

 

Apologies in advance for the lack of response to anything/everything during November, but I want to complete the words, then have time to do a review and edit, and have a complete novel ready by the end of the month.

Sorry.

 

NaNoWriMo 2017 Project

Tomorrow is 1 Nov (at least in this part of the world) so I will be head-down and bum-up doing the NaNo project.  Details are a bit sketchy at the moment, but that’ll change as it goes on. So, here goes with the initiating idea:

Kraken, Dragon, Cat aka Kangaroo, Cockatoo, Crocodile

Who will be the Overlord of Magic?

The previous council and the tests of skill that forced Kraken against Dragon and Dragon against Cat – that was millennia ago. Now the time has come for the other creatures to ‘volunteer’ – one from Air, one from Earth, one from Water – but will they? Or will they let Magic fade from the Earth forever?

POV chars:

Croc (a crocodile; she’s maternal, got eggs ready to lay, and she’s the calming influence – just imagine the look she’d give you if you annoyed her – and she has no sense of humour).

Roo (a kangaroo; he’s arrogant, a bully-boy who fronts up to any fight, and has a sneering attitude).

Cocky (A cockatoo [black? sulphur-crested? yet to decide]; he’s loud, gregarious, talks too much, never takes life seriously, likes a bit of fun).

The Obstacles: Cat, of course; being volunteered (reps of the host country, after all); the puzzle (impossible to solve or to find the keys – ‘cos no remaining representatives to explain the cultural meaning behind the puzzle); selfish ambitions and reasons; have to learn to take responsibility for consequences – and share both the burdens and the work required to ensure the future.

The Conflict: What Cat does to stop them; Cat’s allies; the beaten attitude of Kraken and Dragon; the long-term strategy of manipulation.

The Knockout: [ you have to imagine this, ‘cos I’m not telling you how I envision this ending – not yet ].

The basic outline of the story progression (first part):

Goal (croc) – get the meeting over with and get down the pub. Conflict – isn’t it supposed to be a simple extension, nothing more than signing off to keep the status quo? But croc makes them shut up to listen to Kraken – he’s abdicating! He’s their rep (water) – who’s going to speak for the water creatures? It’s not right! Disaster – the abdication is approved.
Goal (cocky) – get down to the pub and party! Conflict – that bloody croc worries too much about things she can’t do anything about. Disaster – Dragon resignation accepted! What about all the shekels she got to ensure she stayed? Now air is unrepresented.
Goal (roo) – get out of this obligation as quick as possible – beer o’clock! Isn’t that what these things are all about? Conflict – his 2 companions are taking this all a bit seriously; Kraken and Dragon have been failing in their duty for millennia, so what’s new? Disaster – the rebuke from Cat, who feels the world owes him – all the extra work taken on due to the lack of effort by Kraken and Dragon. He could choose to resign as well, but only if the Council can find suitable replacements for all 3 zones (air, water, earth), but if not, he will be compelled to take on the role of Overlord of ALL magic.

And there you have the beginning of a political intrigue of child-like proportions (so, exactly like real politics!).

[image error]

If you’re doing NaNo, good luck, and I’ll see you out the other side, well-worded and well-worn.

And I’ll be doing short excerpts of pieces of the project as posts, so stay tuned.

Orangutans and Cow-Pats

Which have absolutely nothing to do with what I’m doing now. It is nothing to do with what I need to do. It is nothing – nothing – nothing to do with how I feel about spending so much time and effort learning a new program (software), and then finding it FAILS me at critical moments during the set-up stage.

Rude words and bloody hell! Lots of rude words!

No, patience. Try it again – surely it can’t happen again.

It does. And again. And again. Blip is not responding. Create a new project, ‘cos maybe I was doing it wrong – follow the manual – step by step – this then that, then this then that – Blip is not responding.

I have a few days to learn this thing, to practice, because it looked like a good thing. To be able to put all your bits and pieces in easily accessible locations WHILE YOU WORK and not have to stop to scrabble through bits of paper.

Three days. Wasted days now, because I won’t be making the attempt again (okay, maybe one more try, but not today – tomorrow, when the spleen is less enraged).

Those three days where I could have been trimming the citrus – orange, two mandarin, lemon and lime – because this is the time to reduce the leaf count, pull off the little regrowths around the bole (and I enjoy the fruit that comes in late winter/spring next year). And now?

Now I have one day to do the trees, and one day to do the Spring Cleaning and one day to prepare – body, mind and soul – for NaNoWriMo.

Oh, you want to know about the story?

Well, it’s a silly story, a bit of fun, nothing like I normally do at all, but I’ll give you the gist of it (but keep it on the quiet, okay – I said I wasn’t planning prior to the write, but this stuff – so far – is all in my head):

Kraken, Dragon, Cat   aka   Kangaroo, Cockatoo, Crocodile – that’s the working title, btw.

First, you should know this: I created a beat sheet based on one of my (hundreds) of ‘little’ ideas, and one of them was Kraken, Dragon, Cat – who will be the overlord of Magic? blurb:

Title: The Overlord of Magic is: Kraken, Dragon, or Cat?

Initial Idea: Arguments: who should rule the world of magic? Who has the greatest magic of all? Who has the most power? How to set up a test to determine who wins this battle of supremacy? Will it be the Kraken (to represent all creatures of the water); or the Dragon (to represent all the creatures of the air), or will it be the Cat (to represent all the creatures of the land)?

Kraken – huge, horrible! Dragon – wings stronger than steel, magic to overwhelm a weaker mind, the ability to slash and burn and destroy. Cat – sharp claws, piteous yowl, warm purr. Cats inveigle into the heart, and when the tiny, innocent little cat is threatened, an ordinary person … [ not telling you the rest of that ].

Response: Cliche. So, how to make it original? And this is where this story starts.

The New version:

Who will rule magic?

The previous council and the tests of skill that forced Kraken against Dragon and Dragon against Cat – that was centuries ago. Now, the time has come for the other creatures to ‘volunteer’ – one from air, one from earth, one from water – but will they? Or will magic fade from the Earth forever?

The basic outline of the story progression (first part):

Goal (croc) – get the meeting over with and get down the pub. Conflict – isn’t it supposed to be a simple extension, nothing more than signing off to keep the status quo? But croc makes them shut up to listen to Kraken – he’s abdicating! He’s their rep (water) – who’s going to speak for the water creatures? It’s not right! Disaster – the abdication is approved.
Goal (cocky) – get down to the pub and party! Conflict – that bloody croc worries too much about things she can’t do anything about. Disaster – Dragon resignation accepted! What about all the shekels she got to ensure she stayed? Now air is unrepresented.
Goal (roo) – get out of this obligation as quick as possible – beer o’clock! Isn’t that what these things are all about? Conflict – his 2 companions are taking this all a bit seriously; Kraken and Dragon have been failing in their duty for millennia, so what’s new? Disaster – the rebuke from Cat, who feels the world owes him – all the extra work taken on due to the lack of effort by Kraken and Dragon. He could choose to resign as well, but only if the Council can find suitable replacements for all 3 zones (air, water, earth), but if not, he will be compelled to take on the role of Overlord of ALL magic.

And there you have the beginning of a political intrigue of child-like proportions (so, exactly like real politics!), and even if you think you can guess where it’s going – guess again! Because at this stage, even I don’t know (exactly).

And thanks to the failure of the new software, I’ll probably be doing the main writing task on the old (and unstable) software I’ve always used, because at least I know its quirks and how to get around them in a hurry.

Oh, the important bit? The posts during November (aka NaNoWriMo) will be excerpts from the ongoing project, and probably on Saturday and Monday (or Thursday), and I may not be reading as many of my follows as I would like.

It’s not that I think I can’t write 50k in a month, but I’d like them to be good words, in a good story, and well told – and that takes more than a word count. My aim: A good story, well told, and ready to do a final edit at the end of the month (YA, or should it be politics?).

See you then!

[image error]

Equine Neophyte of the Blood Desert

Published last night. It’s in my ‘new’ trademark of Fantasy, this time YA (same as Agoness).

Equine Neophyte of the Blood Desert

(Smashwords and Amazon )

[image error]Trapped into potential slavery, no choices. Neesa plans her escape, prepares for the day she can be free to make her own choices. But on the day of Allocation, she’s accused of cheating, of manipulating the List, and when the Master of Horse comes to claim her as his student, the Master of Gold refuses. He has other plans for her, and none of them involve her remaining alive for long.

The only chance she has is to run into the desert of death, the red desert, and chase the Master of Horse. Better a death by desert than from the cruel hands of the Master of Gold.

Will be on CreateSpace soon (tomorrow?).

Oh, and I have 2 more reviewer copies available: cagedunn@gmail.com for requests (but I do check out your creds).

And now that it’s finished, and I was planning the process for the next story, what happened? I saw how to get Scrivener at 50% off. Participate in NaNoWriMo – and win! So I signed up (silly, silly, silly).

So, what do I have to work with? I looked at the three projects ‘on the go’ but they all have collaborators, so what else? And then it hit me – do something so completely different, no plan (except a beat sheet and the idea), and use the short-term ‘loan’ of Scrivener to do it (so I get used to Scrivener, and see if it’s what I want).

Good plan? No. The panic set in. Why? The word ‘plan’ – I gotta have it! How can I know where to put the highs and lows, the ‘moments’ that lead this way or that way or down the wrong path? Are we allowed to pre-plan? Do I have time to pre-plan AND learn how to use Scrivener?

Arrrrgggghhhh! It’s too much (that’s a Kung Fu Panda 3 saying, BTW – my fav movie [at the moment]).

But I’m going to do it anyway – a true test of a ‘completed’ first draft in 30 days (I’m rolling around on the floor, can’t get up, give us a hand, will ya?).

So, here’s the initiating idea:

Kraken, Dragon, Cat (aka Kangaroo, Cockatoo, Crocodile)

Who will rule magic?

The previous council and the tests of skill that forced Kraken against Dragon and Dragon against Cat – that was centuries ago. Now, the time has come for the other creatures to ‘volunteer’ – one from air, one from earth, one from water – but will they? Or will magic fade from the Earth forever?

At this stage, there’s no momentum to the idea, no structure, no goodies or baddies (although you’d think the croc must be the baddy – so I’ll make sure she isn’t!).

The race is on. The panic is settling in, the buzz is roaring – oh, that’s my stomach, must’ve forgotten breakfast again!

Ciao!

 

 

 

Ready to Rumble

Um, oops, that was supposed to be ‘Release’ – It’s almost ready to release! The story, that is, not the beast within. Stuck with that one.

I’ve been doing the final editing. Finished the big picture stuff, the flow-lines, the through-lines, the story-lines. Done the character (needs some polish there, but I’ll think her through tomorrow – and that final moment of clarity might need some more daylight, but …). Done the dirty work, and written ‘the end’ – but of course, it’s not the end, is it?

I can’t do what some people do – read it aloud (voice doesn’t work too well, and croaks don’t sound like words), so I’ve come up with something different for the proofreading stage.

I create a ‘book’ that looks completely different to the word processing software. Either an e-pub or a pdf where I can view 2 or 3 pages on one screen. Change the way the words look, font and size and (maybe) colour, and even make it justified for the purpose of ‘difference’. Then I read it as if it were an e-book by someone else.

I may have to leave it for a day or two, go and do some more work on one of the WIP MSS that await a stern (or soft) eye. But when I return, it will be different enough that I can read it electronically (no access to printer at the moment) and ‘see’ it more clearly.

How did I figure this out?

Well, it was only recently. I did it for someone else, and usually what I would do is read it aloud. But tonsilitis and tiredness did not bode well for the purpose, so I ‘recreated’ it to be different to how the things I normally read ‘look’. Guess what happened? I saw the bloopers clear as day.

True – it was someone else’s work, but then I tried it on mine and you guessed it! Because it’s so different to the ‘usual’ it made things so much more clear. The little errors jumped out like blood blisters. Big errors created tsunami’s! It was wonderful, clear, bright – and I got the work done quick as a flash. Well, maybe not that quick, but faster than usual, and a lot faster than the print-out process.

I’m going to try it for Equine Neophyte of the Blood Desert – which I hope to have published before end October, so, if it fails, I won’t be telling, but if it works, I’ll let you know.

Stay tuned!

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A Sneak-Peek – but don’t tell anyone!

Scene 1:  Equine Neophyte of the Blood Desert

The room buzzed with an undertone of Wild Magic. It waited in the walls, it sang in tones of sunshine and gentle winds. Neesa smiled as she came in, ducked when the Master of Neo-Training frowned. The Magic lifted and swarmed in little buzzes around the head of the Master – a threat! – but Neesa responded with a small sound. She twirled her little finger until the Magic rose to the height of the rafters. It was so hard not to smile when it swam in waves through the room and down the steps of the tiered seating.

Neesa hummed a rising scale, the hook to link the Wild Magic to the blue Neptonic crystals in her vest. A few heartbeats of movement, of eddies and flashes and sparks, of an overwhelming sense of joy, and the Wild Magic returned to the walls and floor to wait for the next request and reward sequence.

The Master stepped down into the pit and spoke to the two slaves in green tunics. They ran into the store below the seating of the amphitheatre and promptly returned with two large benches. A few moments later, they dragged a large table to the centre of the teaching arena. The Teacher shooed them from the room.

The fourteen other students of Neesa’s group shuffled and clanked to their places. Each student took a blanket from the lowest railing and carried it with them. Once the seat was safe enough, they sat. Stared down into the pit. Finally, all was still.

Neesa shuffled into the farthest corner under the rickety timber seating. She tucked her tunic into the sirral pants and crossed her legs. If she was quiet, if she remained unnoticed, it would be a good day. If not … it would be like every other day she was treated as a slave and not a student.

A sharp twang as the Master’s cane split the air, followed by a clunk when it hit the timber plank.

Neesa cringed as the Magic scattered and jerked.

“We will commence this lesson with two volunteers to undertake to move a heavy item with Magic. Who?” The Master peered up at the pasty-yellow faces glistening with sweat and glittery flecks of powder.

The dismal reflection of light through the single window created a sparkle on the gold dust in the henna-enhanced hair of the students on the lowest tiers.

“You,” she pointed at someone on the far right second level. “And you.” Grundiz.

Maybe there would be some fun in this after all.

The magic swirled above the pit. It waited.

Neesa didn’t look at the girls who stepped down from the heights and into the lower levels.

Who would see it, who would call it?

“First, the net. Every lesson must ensure a net to catch any harm from explosive magic– keep clear.” Her silk overtunic and cape rustled as the Master moved in a sashaying rhythm. Her long dark hair scissored across her back and the tiny red cap tilted, ready to fall if the single clip failed. “You need to master this before your allocations, so watch and learn.”

Neesa kept her butt as still as stone and watched as flickers of magic came. But the message was unclear and the result was flimsy, with holes as big as sheep. How could such a weak thing protect anything from uncontrolled Wild Magic?

Did any of the other students see it? Were they looking at the magic, or the net, or nothing?

The student faces were focussed wide-eyed on the spectacle of the Master’s dance. Not one face turned to the pirouette of light left in the wake of the Wild Magic as it spiralled upwards and spilled over and back again, like a fountain of gushing … magic.

It lifted her heart to see it, but she couldn’t acknowledge it.

“Each of you is required to lift one chair – you, this one – and place it on the table. No, no – use magic, and gently, no destruction!” The Master screeched as she tried to position each student in the right place to make big flourishes. “You REQUEST the magic, you OFFER it something, then …”

Neesa saw the slash as it came down, and almost leapt up to get out of the way.

Too late. A huge gush of unheard sound and the magic attacked the requester of pain, another screech – from Grundiz, who now lay prone on the floor of the pit, magic dribbling away from her and into the floor like blood from an open wound.

“Take her out to the spine-hall,” the Master pointed at a lower-level student “and come back when she’s stable – keep going, girl – what’s your name?” A mutter. “Esena – the lesson isn’t over yet!” She turned back to the tiers. “Who’s the next volunteer,” peered up at the second row. “You,” she dragged her arm down as the next victim groaned her way down to the pit.

All eyes followed the descent.

Neesa looked to the side, but only with her eyes. She kept her face forward, the same as everyone else.

A dark smear hovered near the door. It blotted out some colours in the magic, dulled others. Trepidation froze Neesa’s body. She pulled all her senses back, slow and quiet, and locked her mind behind the gate of blue crystals. She hummed and rocked back and forth like an idiot, and all the while she tapped her fingers on her thigh in the signal for danger.

The darkness in her vision was what everyone else would see. It was a world without magic to light the corners. It was sad, but necessary.

The demonstration continued, but Neesa maintained her watch on the man-shaped blankness. He watched, thinking he was unseen, un-see-able. His shape was unique, the only man in the City of the Wall taller than the doorways. The Master of Gold.

The man she feared more than death. She didn’t know why, but if the Wild Magic feared him, then she did, too.

Only tiny dribbles of magic remained in the room, and it moved away from him, slunk lower to the ground, hid in cracks and crevices, got out of his way like a beaten child. Magic feared the Master of Gold, and if something as powerful as Wild Magic was afraid, there was reason.

His shadow-shape stayed until the low bellow of the meal horn filtered in through the thick walls. A resounding crash – what was that? Neesa jammed her hands over her ears and stamped her feet in a pattern of pain.

None of the students reacted to the crash. The Master didn’t react. Neesa shook the noise out of her head as the Master prodded her with the teacher’s cane.

“As the servant-designate cannot follow the flow of learning, maybe we should remind her to clean the room before she leaves?”

The answering titter was overridden by the scrapes of shoes, the rustling of papers and rolling of scrolls, by the clatter of chalk sticks and feather-knives. The class of final-year-neophytes wove their way down the steps to the heavy timber door and out into the Spine Hall.

“Do not be late, servant-designate, or your meal will be gone.”

Neesa didn’t care. What mattered was the body on the floor, and how it got there.

copyright 2017 Cage Dunn & Shannon Hunter – a YA fantasy story.

It might be final, and it might not, but it’s in the final stages, almost ready to publish this month (definitely before November, because that’s when the final work on the Valki story starts again). That’s why this post is tonight, and not tomorrow, because the final march to the finish line, the last gasp of powering through to ‘the end’ – that’s what’s happening for the rest of the week (fingers crossed, toes crossed, etc).

See you Sunday. Oh, the pic – a possible cover for the story.

 

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horse-2708709_1920 from Pixabay

 

 

 

Moving On

This time, I’m not going to succumb to the pique of interest that comes from looking at a map, at GoogleMaps, at the distant horizon.

I’m not. I’m going to stay here.

I’m not packing up, not lightening the load to move. It’s called decluttering. Truly. I’m just getting rid of a few things I haven’t touched or looked at for a while. That’s all.

Just decluttering.

For a few days, I even believed that.

If it didn’t happen on such a regular basis, it would be easier to believe. Of course, it’s not true. I’m doing what I always do when things get tough.

“Let’s move,” I say. The response is the flat stare, the rolled eyes, and the stamp of heavy footsteps down to the ‘other’ study.

A stress response, nothing more. The need to escape the confines of this aspect of life. The need to move on. Gypsy blood, even. All excuses.

I need to expand my horizons. Sometimes, I need to go back to the desert just to be able to breathe, to feel at home, to lose the sense of overwhelming masses of people all around me. The sense of confinement and claustrophobia that comes from living among too many other people.

I know – most people don’t understand. They like to be around people. I need space. No trees to block the view to the distance – in time and space. No people who force a response by saying words. No lights that don’t come from the sky.

Peace.

That’s what I find out there, in the middle of the desert, the arid zone. Peace that comes to my soul, settles against my chest, and helps me feel at home and grounded.

And then, maybe, I can go back and become part of the community again. But just a little bit, not too much, not too tight. A loose rein, a gentle touch, a smile that invites but doesn’t compel.

The freedom of movement, of thought, of breath – I miss that, and when I dream of it for too many nights in a row, and I get in the car – do I go where I’m supposed to be going? Do I miss the appointment? Disappoint my friends by not going to the party?

Yes.

When that wide expanse calls me home, I can’t ignore it. I look over the steering wheel and breathe in. I smell it. I taste it. I am compelled to go home. For a moment.

What is it that calls me back each time? Duty. Responsibility. Commitment. The things that weigh heavy must occasionally be brushed off so I can remain ‘self’ for a few breaths more.

* A piece from the heart, but still fictive (sort of).

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The Excuse

It’s tame, I know, and I should be writing a post today – it’s Wednesday, I always do a post on Wednesday – but there’s a storm outside, thunder and lightning (no rain yet, but it will come (this is Adelaide, maybe it won’t come)), so – short story long – no post.

If there’s no storm tomorrow, I’ll do a post.

Why the lame excuse?

‘Cos I’m paranoid. If anything happens to my composter/computer – what do I do? This year has given me several moments of ‘lack’ in that regard, and you wanna know what happens?

Madness! that’s what. Yes, I can do the white-board thing, I can read and research, I can … all that stuff.

None of it makes the story, though, does it? It’s the preparation, but not the fact. The fact of making it come from abstract to real requires ‘the machine’ and if there’s a storm, and it gets ‘blown to smithereens’ and I can’t afford a new one – what then?

What then? Is something I refuse to consider, so I’ll write a post tomorrow – as long as tomorrow doesn’t involve thunder and lightning, that is.

And in the meantime, I can …

And you can always read Agoness (I’ve heard it’s a good story).