Ren Warom's Blog, page 13

Thor and his Dark World… A Renfield Review

On Tuesday Spawn and I ventured out into the cold darkness of winter, quite appropriately as it happens, to see Thor 2. Now I kinda loathed Thor mark 1. Aside from the infrequent exposure of la Hemsworth’s outrageous bodily fortune I found it thin on the ground. Narrow. Despite the magnificence of Asgard, the delightful gloomy cold of Jotunheim and, of course, la Hiddles unparalleled brilliance as Thor’s snotty half-brother, the part frost giant, possible god of mischief Loki, Thor 1 fundamen...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 45: Start With One

A bookshop. Just any bookshop. It shouldn’t be. Margo is aware enough of that for it to hurt just sitting here on the rungs of this ladder that feels so familiar and yet isn’t. Everything feels the same way. Familiar and too strange. As if she’s seen this place on tv, and is busy having some kind of visceral, visual déjà vu. Wherever she knows this from, it meant a lot. Maybe everything.

It means nothing now.

Distanced and numb, she sits on the rungs, watching Kitty and the woman called Leek wo...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 44: I Have Seen the Light

If light were given voice, and screamed, what sound would it make? There’s a moment, when Margo pulls the cork from the bottle, and the Radiance realises what she’s done, that she knows that sound intimately. It is not a sound she can hear. It is beyond the capacity of her ears to process. This sound provokes a chemical reaction, violates her cells, her neurones. Vibrates through her, wreaking havoc.

From the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair, it alters her. Deep within. Tiny tears in t...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 43: What We Do To Survive

Her task complete, the bottle pressed hard against the soft skin of her breast, Margo holds tight to Vespesian’s body, and waits. Cocooned in pain and darkness, she hopes. Tries not to think. To feel. But there is no cure for thinking. Or feeling.

Rolf is within her; she can feel him as sure as the passage of blood from heart to organs and back. His pain pulses inside her, his waning strength, his misery. He can’t sense her. Can’t sense Moe. He’s too broken. Too desperately damaged.

She longs t...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 42: Facing the Light

Flagstone. Cold. Unyielding. Bruising soft flesh, and the bones beneath. Still he crawls on, drawn now by the gentle tug against his palm.

The bottle.

Like calling to like, to antithesis, to equal, to opposite, all unwilling and spitting fury like hailstones. Abrading his mind, they fall and fall, never-ending, such expulsions of hatred, of rage. The Radiance rails at him for daring to bring it within proximity of the Absence.

Threats. Dire warnings. Foul curses. None of it stops Moe from moving...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 41: In the Belly of Darkness

In the belly of darkness, Margo struggles along, searching. Rolf’s in here somewhere, heart and breath reduced to whispers, but still holding on, still waiting for her to find him, still waiting for his Moe. His agony rings in her like bells, resounding in the marrow of her. She wraps herself in it, taking as much as she can into herself, hoping to spare him some small measure.

The Absence is far different than she expected, a more physical presence than shadows, or nightfall. It’s muscular, m...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 40: Trials and Strange Company

Moe would run. He would run until he broke. Until he could not breathe. Until his heart ruptured within his chest. All the way to Rolf. Into the castle. Into danger. Into the Mother’s arms. Into darkness. The devouring shadow. He would run there freely, if it would take him to Rolf.

Instead, he walks.

And it is pure agony.

But the bottle is so heavy, and every step he takes the burden grows. His hands ache, his shoulders burn, his thighs, knees, ankles, all seem to creak with the effort of movem...

Umwelt: Darkness Flows Like A River Episode 39: The Devouring Shadow

The bottle in his hand is too small to feel as heavy as it does. Moe longs to place it back in the cylinder, hide it, but it refuses to be contained, and it desires other hands than his. He can feel its disdain for his touch; feel its desire to be in hands that might be able to rip out the cork. Unleash it.

‘Eustacia Hermaini,’ he repeats thoughtfully, hefting the bottle and considering the implications of Andreus’s revelation. The Mother in their world, so close to them, so close to him. What...

Clarion West Write-a-Thon Round-up

For the past six weeks I’ve been participating in the Clarion West write-a-thon. I’ve won two sponsors (thank you @SikesAaron and @transliterata – your flash fictions will be with you hopefully by the end of the hols) and written 36k. But how have I done in this final week? Because really, to have hit my target there should be a few more k on that total. Well, I began my week by starting a scene based around the character Unity, and I just could NOT make it work. The more I struggled with it,...

Clarion West Write-a-thon Update: Numero Cinco & The Eloquent Page Interview :)

So here we are at week five, almost at the end of the road for the Write-a-thon. I’ll have one more update after the fact and two flash fictions to write, oh my! What fun

Down to brass tacks then. How have I done this week? Brace yourselves. Go ahead. I’ll wait. *waits* I have written… *fanfare* 13, 853 words this week!! Oh yeah, baby, that is almost DOUBLE my usual and much nearer my hopeful target of 3k a day. I am a very happy and very smug bunny. Not only that but I am well past the 60k...