…. on my other blog
“Good morning writers, how are you? How is your writing going since last Monday? I hope all is well with your words and dreams :-).
Ever thought about them? Ever thought about yours?
Maybe it is an age thing. You hit 40, and suddenly your tasks just do not get so easy as they used to. You tire a little easier, and your bones start aching. In general your body starts showing you your limits.
We live in a society where limits are not “hip” or “up to date”. We are used to need everything and get everything. But reality is: We can’t!
Especially if you are a writer but still need a day job to pay your bills. And that is usually not all. There is your family and friends and maybe a hobby or two. There is only so much you can do though and if you do not heed your limits your body or your soul (or psyche if you prefer) will make them pretty clear to you……” Please read more at The River is flowing… Good morning writers!
So far I have introduced Zara who is the daughter of the Tribes leader Shallaya. Her father was on a mission to the River People but came back badly insured. Her brothers had a very brief entrance so I will have to introduce them in more detail but that must wait a little. There is also Wild Woman the shaman of the Tribe. An important advisor both to Zara and Shallaya.
Here is a little of yesterdays post:
“Zara stood on top of Blue Mountain.
She looked over the vast valley of The River. She was staring at the places where she thought the River People lived. Zara kept her mouth tightly shut and breathed hard.
She remembered how her grieve over her fathers had subsided a little and that tightness had started in her stomach. Without any warning, she stood up and stumbled behind the fire to their sitting area and hit and hit and hit the cushions. Both her brothers had to grab her arms from both sides and hold her down for minutes before she came to herself and cried again.
Her mother just sat at her fathers head rocking to and fro. They could not hear a sound but shocks of tremors ran through her body. Wild Woman had left the yurt to prepare the tribe for the burial of the leaders husband.
“I will find them!” Zara hissed. “I will find every single one of them! No matter where you are bastards. I’ll get you!” She screamed those last words on top of her lungs….”
Those of you who follow me since a while know that I was writing quite a few blogs here on WordPress. But last year I decided to put all my creativity and my effort in just one blog and decided to go back to blogger. Not so sure if that was a good decision. Right now I am looking to connect to other bloggers writing sci-fi, fantasy and poetry but it looks to me like all the active ones are here on WordPress. I wonder why ;-).
Well, I have started the other one and I won’t change again. Have been changing too much in my blogging carrer. Or more have been experimenting. Now its time to get down to business. So here is an extract from my sci-fi serial that I have posted on WordPress but am editing now and post it on “The River is flowing….”. Feedback much appreciated:
….. Chan Juan went back to the outside door to give it a final shine while Sadit showed Rowan the circular moves they had to do with the mob and broom to ensure the flooring did not lose its shine. They only spoke what was necessary. All of them still thinking about Mitchell.
Now Rowan realised how tranquil this entrance was. If the off voice did not introduce the newest offers they played relaxing sounds which Rowan remembered from the hidden forest at Shortlace. He had found out with Morris who was interested in history and how people lived around the time of the RIFT that those sounds were supposed to be in a forest. There were flying creature still living then some making noises like those funny ancient clocks those mad collectors had. A little creature came out every hour and made exactly that noise. There was also a kind of hush going on which sounded like transporting machines in the distance, but they read up that transporting machines did not belong to forests way back then. Morris found and old Encyclopedia which explained that that sound was called “Wind” a movement of air, that moves the leaves which in turn made the noise. It relaxed Rowan no matter what he was doing….. Please read more here
photo credit Jiri Brozovski via Flickr
with this Creative Commons licence
Things are flowing in my writing life. I have started reading Linda Formichelli’s “Write your way out of the rat race” and try to figure out how to make a little more of my writing. At the beginning of the year I have managed to get Google Adds on “The River is flowing” and am concentrating right now to produce good blog posts and to find a way to combine the day job with my writing. And of course my nearly life-long love “Zara” is still close to my heart and it looks like I am actually getting somewhere with it. Well, I killed of my first character :-(…..
Here you can find how she’ll get on Zara (XIII)
Hello out there, I have blogged about this writing prompt here before but on my new blog I use it on a regular basis and it has become a well of inspiration.
Here is what I wrote about it on Thursday:
” As I wrote on Tuesday evening when I introduced my own writing prompt with photo’s, I have come to love to use them.
In the beginning, I thought:” I have enough ideas! I do not need to write with writing prompts!” But when I started to use “lean against… and listen” I realised that it is so much more than giving ideas.
It has become a playground for me to try out different things even though I do not intend to write something planned. I write down what comes to mind or more what the storyteller tells me, but his or her intention seems to make me realise my potential and how much more I can write.
This is fun. This is creative. This is brilliant.
I highly recommend trying it out!….”
A little bit on routines and how they help to be productive on my blog “The River is flowing…”
“How are you today? How has your writing been in the last 7 days? Are you feeling satisfied with your writing or are you frustrated? I hope that it is rather satisfied and motivated than frustrated.
This morning I wanted to read a blog post about “routines” but, unfortunately, our internet played up, and I could not get to it and now I can’t remember where I found it. Never mind.
But it got me thinking about routines and how they help to be productive. I have certain things that get me into the mood of writing:…”
A little more of the story that gave this blog its name. But I post it on my new blog “The River is flowing“
“…Zara and Shallaya reached their family yurt. They could hear Wild Woman intone her healing songs and the clinking of pots and dishes. Wild Woman did not look up when Zara and Shallaya entered the tent.
Zara gasped when she saw her father’s pale face which seemed to have shrunk to half its normal size. His usually well shaven face showed stubble here and there. Again she had to steady her mother but both did not say a word just sat down one at the head, one at the feet of the injured man. He laid on his bear coat close to the fire in the middle of the tent like structure. A few pots, earthen cups and plates, stood on a wooden stool on the other side of the fire. Beside it, some bright red cushions form a sitting area and closer to the fire more bear coats with woven blankets on them.
Zara spotted dried blood all over her fathers muscular body when Wild Woman took off his clothes to start her healing ritual. His breathing was shallow but still there. Her mother started intoning the shaman supporting melodies while she was rocking gently. Zara fell in immediately…..”
Please read the rest at “The River is flowing ~ Zara (XII)
Here a little more of my sci-fi serial which I am posting on my other blog. You can find the first version here: Morsmart at the end of the Galaxy but I am editing it for the other blog and will go on writing it as well. Oh I am excited :-):
“… “Proper procedure?” Rowan asked Sadit. Sadit just grinned: ” Every two hours we have to clean the entrance as this is the first impression the store makes. You should think that Avatars can not make any dirt, but there is. Even though I have a feeling that there are people employed to make it dirty just to keep us in work.”
Rowan looked at him questioningly:” You think that?” “Are you joking me? Of course, there are strange things going on here!” Rowan looked at Chan Juan standing on a little step cleaning the huge glass doors with the Morsmart green crescent on them. She started wiping from the top right working down to the bottom left slowly removing all finger and hand prints. “Just have a look at those doors” Sadit continued “Do Avatars have fingerprints?” “No of course not they are not real, just a projection” Rowan answered as if Sadit had asked the silliest question ever. “Exactly! But is that door clean? No! So where do you think the prints come from?” “I have no idea” Rowan answered….”
Please read more at The River is flowing
Hello out there,
how has your writing been in the last 7 days? Were you struggling or have you had fun?
I think I have been concentrating a lot on my struggles lately and forgot a little how much fun writing can be. A few weeks ago I stumbled over a blogpost by Tim Ferris called “How to built a high traffic blog without killing yourself“. It featured his talk at the San Fransisco Wordcamp in 2009 and gives a few ideas of how he deals with his blogs. And last Wednesday I had time to watch it at last.
The tip that stayed in my mind of his presentation was this:” Most of all: have fun!” because if you have fun your readers will have fun. I remember hearing this from authors too and having a look into my experience with my own pieces of writing I can only agree: …… Please read more at The River is flowing
“Charna is fine by the way!”
Cara looked at him for a second like she could not remember the name of her future daughter in law. She coughed a little and answered: “I am glad to hear that and how are her parents?”
“Fine. Her mother’s fishing is going well!” Ciara smiled at him and said:” and how are her father’s war games going?”
Ciar said nothing for a while and looked at his mother. Her beautiful complexion always amazed him as well as that air of innocence she could spread around herself. “If only she wouldn’t….” He got up to the little hearth in the middle of the hut where he had boiled some tea. After ladling some of it in two cups, he came back to her and offered it to her. She accepted but still said nothing…..
Please read more at The River is flowing