Nanowrimo anyone?

Yes I know, I’ve been really big on the slacker side for the last…oh…almost three months. Shame on me, really. But nonetheless, with some of the private baggage out of the way I’m getting my head clear and the urge to write returns! Yay!

I’m seriously feeling horrible about how much I’ve neglected writing lately and so it’s time for one of those kickstarts to get things moving again. I know lots of people who did NaNoWriMo last year (I won! I won! – even though with the beginning of a rather shitty draft :p ) I personally had lots of fun last year and the year before, even though the results weren’t always as great as I thought they’d be, but hey, that’s Nanowrimo speed writing for you. Right now my objective is just to get things moving again, because I really want to get a good chunk of work on this second draft done before the year is over. So even if it’s kinda cheating, if you’re really strict and say that you have to start a ‘new’ idea in Nanowrimo, I want to use it to get back into the swing of things.

And the best way to do this and keep motivated is having some cool people around to do it with, so who else is consigning themselves to a month of utter lack of sleep, caffeine-overdoses and writing frenzy? Let me know and share the misery eh fun 🙂


Point of view: quickwrite – Earthquake experienced by a homeless person

Ever wondered about what it feels like to sit next to a building that’s about to topple over right over your own damn head? No? Seriously I didn’t either. Not until it happened that one day, right in the middle of the city. Okay, I kinda lost track where exactly I was or how much I’d drunk that day. Might be that I was just a little too tipsy to get what was going on until I was like right in the middle of it, ya know? I mean, don’t get earthquakes every day around here, right? Ain’t like we’re in California or somewhere like that where people are used to that kind of thing.

Anyway, so there I sit, kinda buzzed and feeling shitty, though maybe not so shitty as I normally do and – wham! The wall that I’m leaning against starts sorta vibrating and everything kinda feels like you’d just thrown people and rocks and glass into some kind of weird jumble and there’s people screaming and running and like…ya know, just freaking out. Actually, it was kinda hilarious if you asked me. Never seen that city this busy before. Like rush hour on crack. Something like that. Only problem’s that building. Freaking forty-five floor skyscraper and it starts shaking like real hard and getting cracks all over the place and there’s rocks and shards of glass and all that crap all over the place already.

So you tell me what the fuck you’re doing in this kinda situation when it’s just grab the change in your hat in one hand and the booze in the other and run for what it’s worth. Which really ain’t all that much in that kinda chaos if you ask me. But hey, nobody does anyway, so why even care?

And that damn dog’s gone too. Well shit.

Breakfast conversations? Yes, we’re doing dialouge today!

I woke up with the worst headache in all creation.

I suppose it was either my half-muffled groan or my turning away from the blinding sunlight that suddenly flooded the room that gave me away.

“Oh, look! Sleepy head’s awake!”

“I don’t know why in the Seven Hells you sound all excited so early in the morning”, I said, the sound of my own voice sending something akin to hot, burning needles through my skull.

“What? You having a hang-over, huh?” he teased, throwing the pillow I had just dragged over my head across the room.

“Don’t you even start, Damian. Your bonus is almost up,” I mumbled, the warning lost in translation.

If anything, it brought a smirk from Damian.

“You mean the bonus of dragging you home last night or the bonus of being the one to get your ass in gear in the morning with uh…guess you’d call it a ‘concoction’ or some fancy word like that.”

“I don’t know how much I like the word ‘concoction’ right now,” I said and grimaced, squinting at the cup Damian proffered me without asking. One look at the greenish brew told me I’d rather not know what was in it.

“It’s called an Aftershock,” Damian announced, much too enthusiastic for my taste.

I frowned at the brownish liquid some more before I downed the cup in one go, shuddering as I put it down.

“Gods, that stuff is nasty. What in the Seven Hells did you put in it?” I went for the sink, trying to slosh the taste out of my mouth.

“A raw egg, Worcester sauce and Tabasco,” Damian replied cheerfully.

I just looked at him blankly.

“And you made me drink that.”

“Come on, can’t say it ain’t helping. How’s the head doing?”

Brumm! Brumm!

I got my car today (finally) and am way excited since it’s my very first car that I actually own all by myself. It’s a ’97 Pontiac Sunfire and it’s awesome 😀

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Character – “My father” through Raeyn’s eyes

My father’s eyes had always been hard and cold. But right now I finally understood the fear he inflicted on people whenever he looked at them like he looked at me now. Those eyes, blank amethysts, constricted to narrow slits as they focused on me kneeling in front of him. He looked like a snake ready to strike, his lips set to a think angry line and I knew his hands, though spotted and gnarled with age were still strong as his long fingers clenched the arms of his throne. Something warm trickled down my cheek. I knew his heavy ring had left a deep imprint of his sigil where he had hit me, the left side of my face was throbbing, my eye slowly swelling shut. But I wouldn’t look down.

People used to tell me I looked like a younger copy of my father, with the same white hair and dark lilac eyes that ran in the family and had nothing to do with age. Back then I was young and gullible enough to consider that a compliment to be compared to him.

Now I couldn’t help but shudder at seeing myself become like him, that lean, almost skeletal figure sitting on the throne of Illyria, governing with an ‘iron fist’ as they called it, his whole demeanor an image of professionalism. The way he looked at me, with a face that would have made marble feel warm and alive in comparison, told me more than words that he would do whatever was necessary in the blink of an eye. His thin white eyebrows drew together, his white beard quivering with rage as he addressed me in that deep, resonating voice that I used to call his ‘state voice’.

“Now, have you forgotten what happens to those who betray me, son?”


Yes, I know, I know! It seems that I haven’t been doing any writing at all lately with all that stress and real life drama going on, but I think I’m getting back into the swing of things, now that a lot has happened and I have gotten some things sorted out. Right now I’m being eaten alive by homework, but I’m actually hoping to get some writing on Six done this week (keep your fingers crossed for me, people). Anyway, to make up for the sheer among of writing and blogging slackage recently committed, I thought to maybe post some things I’ve written for my creative writing class lately.

Since the final project here will be a short story, I’ve been tinkering with a few ideas revolving around Raeyn’s character who I really want to write some more for. We have little fiction assignments every two weeks (since we alternate between poetry and prose) and so far I’ve written some things on setting and characterization that I think aren’t all that bad, though I’d say they really aren’t what I’d call my best. Ah well, blame the stress and whatnot, but at least things are moving again and I’m surprised how much fun I’m having to write for Raeyn and his rather cynical attitudes (blame a good deal of that on my own cynicism lately 😉 ).

Anyway, here’s a piece about the setting of Light and what I’m calling “Raeyn’s Story” for now, seen from Raeyn’s PoV mainly focusing on description (which I suck at). Let me know what you think.

Stephanie Lee – ENGL 2250


I remember the day when my father first showed me the city outside of the Palace. It had been on a bright spring day, the sunlight reflected by the white marble of the Palace, making it look like one giant beacon of light. It looked beautiful. Rays of sunlight mirrored in the glass dome of the Temple of Light, giving it the semblance of a multifaceted crystal. Back then, I was young enough to believe it when the priests told me it was a sign; a divine favor of some sort.

Standing almost at the very same spot as I had so many years ago, I spot one of them now, bald and white-robed making his way to through the buzzing streets. I cannot help but realize how gullible people are. The priest’s slow gait halts from time to time to mutter some meaningless blessing to a woman or child, randomly selected from the faceless masses bustling around him. Just as every other Sun Day, the streets of the City of Helos are packed with people, flocking to the white, marble structure of the Temple like sheep, every bit as ignorant.

Here in the Core, even the air smells clean, free of the stink of rusty engines, stuttering through the streets of the Lower City.  Here, life runs its course along neatly-paved roads, clear of any of the trash or human scum that litter the streets elsewhere.  Merchants are hawking their wares from a cluster of wooden booths, painted in bright colors.

The streets of the inner city of Helos are never quiet, its population lulled by a sense of safety and prosperity. Above it all looms the Finger of Light, a cylindrical tower, higher than even the Palace itself, its glass façade, imaging the smooth and modern style of the Palace and the Temple of Light. Just as anything built by the Empire, it is nothing but a symbol for the public, stark and unforgiving, impossible to overlook.

In the end, the Core is nothing but a white and shiny public image. Visible to anyone and absolutely immaculate. Absolutely fake.  And yet its people believe whatever they are told. Like sheep indeed.

More Gratuitous Kitty Posting

So even though he’s a little bigger than Nazca in size, I don’t really think Loki is any older than six, maybe eight months. He’s definitely still a ‘baby’ kitty and absolutely cute and adorable now that he seems to truly found a home here (pst, Nazca’s warming up to him and his cute playfulness too, she’s just not admitting it…yet 😉 )

Loki invading Nazca’s territory – the bed. Uh-oh kitty.

What’s this? Yes, the kitty loves to play around in and around my books – talk about distraction from work 😉

Purrrrrr! Somebody definitely enjoys being loved on…even though he just threw that damn bamboo off the bookshelf for the second time tonight…what is that about long bamboo stick thingies in vases making it such a reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally interesting kitty toy?

Welcome hurricane Loki. Yup, the name fits…