Red Tash's Blog, page 17

This trailer is probably about 100x nicer than Deb’s...

This trailer is probably about 100x nicer than Deb’s mom’s place in The Park.  

Admit it.  You’ve been missing Deb’s mom & her ghetto fabulous lifestyle.

Nanolines!  From my WIP Troll Or Park:

Morning arrived slower than Mom’s unemployment checks, and when Gennifer and she finally drug out of bed the next day, I was sitting in the living room with my bag packed.

"What’s dat all about?" Mom grunted.  She wasn’t really my mom, but I didn’t feel right calling her Kat.  She lit a breakfast cigarette and stabbed at a button on her coffee maker, missing and knocking some empty beer cans off the counter.  They hit the orange shag carpet in the kitchen and she crushed them in her cheap pink house shoes, groaning as she bent down to pick them back up.  "You trying to get out of town in a hurry?  They’re looking fer the feller who set the fire to the Legion Hall, you know.  Was it you?"

She’d overfilled the reservoir in her coffee maker the night before, and now it overflowed the carafe.  “You’re coffee’s done, I think.”

"Shit fire," she said, grabbing for a stained dishtowel and dabbing at the counter.  "Ain’t answered me about that Legion hall thing, though."

"Stop harassing Deb about the fire, Mom," Gennifer said, grabbing the carafe and pouring herself a mug of coffee.

"Here, honey, have some of this raw honey in your coffee.  It’ll help your allergies," Mom said, holding out a jar with a pretty paper doily on top, and a blue dragonfly.

"No thanks, Mom.  Trying to watch what I eat."

"Your loss.  I can’t get enough of this shit.”  She opened the jar and poured a big gob of the stuff into her mug.  She tossed her cigarette into the sink full of dishes, picked up the hot mug and instead of sipping, drank the entire mug of coffee like a shot.

Photo

Nanolines: Do fairies get jealous? Deb is, of course, not a...

Nanolines: Do fairies get jealous? 

Deb is, of course, not a pixie, but a full fairy.  Still…you get the idea from the gif, I think.

From TROLL OR PARK, my #nano WIP:

Derek’s fingernails flew to his mouth, and he started chewing immediately.  I decided to let him be the nervous one.  If Liana wanted to fight over Harlow, she was going to lose.  Not that I liked him that way.  That was to say, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Harlow, but it damned sure wasn’t up to her to tell me.

Hey!

Writing conference alert!
I will be a guest at Imaginarium in the Sept of 2014.
Come hang with me.

Nanolines! Awkward…From my WIP Nanowrimo, Troll Or...

Nanolines!  Awkward…

From my WIP Nanowrimo, Troll Or Park:

For a moment I wondered what kind of damage a troll like Harlow could do if he used his healing powers on something that wasn’t broken.  Could he reverse your face right off your head?  There were definitely some folks in town that I’d like to see that happen to. I had to rip faces off the old-fashioned way—with fangs and claws.  But Harlow—what could he do?

"You’re the coolest, Harlow," I said.

"Yeah, right," he said.  "Since when do you butter me up for anything?"  He glared at me sideways and I didn’t know what to say.  Weren’t we friends?  Wasn’t I allowed to be kind to the only guy in town who’d ever really been there for me?

Hard to find a handsome troll online, but this is a good one:

DailyBird’s Ronneth by Kivutar

Nanolines! I forgot what a dugbog was.I obviously was looking...

Nanolines!  I forgot what a dugbog was.

I obviously was looking up magical creatures that LOOK like wood when I found it, but I wrote it and forgot it.  

Post today’s edit:

FROM TROLL OR PARK, MY NANO IN PROGRESS:

The inside of the mansa was decked out for summer living.  Beach towels covered the floor, magicked together into braids and patterns until they formed something like an elaborate Persian rug.  Miniature palms cast out as dead now flourished in each corner, and a tropical ceiling fan with a three of the original blades circled overhead.  A pair of dugbogs lashed together with bailing twine replaced the fourth, missing fan blade, and they hissed an intermittent stream of spring water down into the room.  The effect was downright comforting in the heat of the July night.

draco-the-puppet:

So basically an alligator or crocodile? Hmmm….I feel misinformed.

I see them as much smaller and not at all reptilian.

Some great illustrations here (although admittedly the best ones are more reptilian!)

This pic is nearly perfect for today’s NANOLINES!...

This pic is nearly perfect for today’s NANOLINES!  It’s not the exact look, but the feel is probably as close as you can get, this side of the Troll Market.

From Troll Or Park, my WIP:

The dog fairy smiled, her canines jutting out and her tongue hanging out one side of her mouth.  She lifted a large jar of golden honey, an orange monarch butterfly floating inside.  It was so pretty I gasped, and as she handed it to me, I saw a million little flecks of translucent pixie dust swirling inside.  The jar was trimmed with a doily and a golden ribbon on top, and a blue dragonfly beat its wings, affixed to the decoration.

“When I’m ready to collect your debt, I’ll call the dragonfly back.  You will follow.”

My take on the Adventure Time Spooktacular, and more IMJ takes...

My take on the Adventure Time Spooktacular, and more IMJ takes on new comic releases: IMJ Comic Book Reviews™

Troll Or Park playlist in progress

Troll Or Park playlist in progress

Nanolines! A bad pun. I can’t really believe I wrote...

Nanolines!  A bad pun.  I can’t really believe I wrote this.

From Troll Or Park, my #nanowrimo WIP:

I burned in silence, my anger blinding me as I followed the Coach through the cobblestone rows of vendors.  A band of banshee minstrels streaked by, “singing” something awful and nicking goods from the patrons as they went.  A couple of them rode three-wheeled bicycles, and the other two threw their purloined prizes into the baskets attached to the backs of the trikes. 

One of them clipped my wing and I retracted it, snarling.  She mouthed a “sorry” at me as she plucked away at a lute, crashing her way through the crowd.  Those fae who could tolerate their racket without flinching threw garbage and knives, and even ninja stars to drive them away.  It seemed nobody liked these minstrel cyclists.

Sculptures by Forest Rogers