Archive | August 2014

Blog Hop Stop: Fiction in the Alder’s Grove

I have been tagged! That never happens…

The writer in my attic tagged me to do a Blog Hop. I’ve know Rion for a couple years (we met, more or less, because of Addergoole, like most of my current friends), and for the last year-plus, she’s been staying in our attic and occasionally rescuing our cats from themselves.

What am I working on?
Everything?

Let’s see!

I’m posting Edally Academy, a Steampunk Boarding School serial (Meta: I’m working on getting a webpage up and running). Tairiekie & her new teammates not only have to deal with classes & teachers at a new, prestigious, & challenging school, they also have to figure out what’s going on with the mysterious Instructor Talmizhaab’s device.

I’m both posting & writing Inner Circle, a potentially-kinky fantasy serial with gladiators and strange magic (& a webpage). Taslin and Valran have both bent knee in order to raise in rank. But getting to the inner circle can take a lifetime – or cost you your life.

I’m working on the re-write of Addergoole, my first web-serial. Right now, I’m getting everything ready to launch the kickstarter!

I’ve got a prompt call open, where I take your suggestions and write fic to them. I’m working on short story submissions to two different anthologies & a contest (let’s see: Steampunk Horror, Genre Fiction Gender-Funky, and “Property”), and working on edits for another anthology.

AND I’m beginning to plan my Nanowrimo novel and working – still – on my fantasy travel-across-the-land possible-love-story, Into Lannamer.

Focus? What’s that?

How does my work differ from others in its genre?

Oh, dear, what genre do I write in?…

If anything, I’d say that I enjoy dystopic fiction more than most. In almost everything I write, eventually, the setting is going to be the bad guy…

…or is it? Because I’m also inordinately fond of shades (but not 50 of ’em) grey.

Why do I write what I do?

I write the stories that people like, and I write the stories I like.

I grew up reading fantasy & scifi, and find a world without magic (or the stars) a little too boring to write in. So most of my stories are speculative in nature, and even those that appear to be in this world are a little bit off, just like me.

How does my writing process work?

Generally: I start from a spark – either a phrase or a prompt, something that pops into my head in the shower or something someone else suggests (I once wrote a short story based off of cooking directions). I write until the spark runs out, then I sit down with an outline and figure out what I need to do to turn that spark into a full story.

(Of course, with flash, I just stop when the spark runs out.)

Who’s Next?
I’m going to tag [personal profile] clare_dragonfly! Clare writes Chatoyant College, a fantasy web-serial set at the only institution in the United States that teaches magic, and has recently been working on fiction set in The Ursulan Cycle, a gender-bent version of the Arthurian Cycle.

And, speaking of the Ursulan Cycle, I’m also going to tag [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith. If you don’t know Ysabet from her monthly poetry fishbowls (in which she takes prompts on a theme and produces very moving poetry) or her soft-fic Love is for Children Avengers fanfic (or any of the other awesome work she’s done), go do some reading. Go ahead. I’ll be here when you’re back.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/785377.html. You can comment here or there.

Flying-Squirrel’s Freedom (or Fetters)

Written to [personal profile] lilfluff ‘s prompt

 

Farley woke fuzzily.  The fetters were fixing him firmly in place, pressed against some sort of stake in the ground. 
 
"Fuck."  He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and shifted his arms.  A series of dull aches and sharp pains greeted the movement.  The webs between his arms and body were stretched badly.  His hands were bound above his head and behind the stake; his ankles were bound similarly.  At least he was on his knees.  That gave him a little bit of slack – a little.  Not nearly enough. 
 
Where was he?  Bound to a stake, that much was clear.  But… oh.  A mast.  Farley swallowed around a lump in his throat.  This wasn’t going to go well.  If the pirates…
 
"Eeeee-ah!"  Farley jerked his head around, trying to look behind him, and got nothing but more pain for his efforts.  That shout.  He knew that shout.  
 
"Diiiiiiie!"  And that one.  Farley struggled against the chains in earnest now.  The Fondly sisters were very good fighters – very, very good fencers.  Unless the pirates that had him were of the Natashon Clan, they didn’t stand a chance.  And, in a manner of speaking, neither did Farley. 
 
The Fondly sisters were very friendly.  Very, very friendly. And, while Farley wasn’t the sort of squirrel to stay in one place – he was a flying squirrel, pretty much your definition of flit-about – well, the Fondly sisters had a way of making their wishes come true. 
 
"Dieeeee… aw, you died."  
 
Farley fought harder against the fetters. 

Further fic: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/808481.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/785071.html. You can comment here or there.

Did you know I STILL have a Giraffe Call open (#Promptcall)

It’s open here, and the theme is Animalia.

Centaurs and fauns, bull-boys and fox-girls, talking cats and telepathic pink horses. Transfurry things and sentient animal things, moddies and Changes and animal-shaped aliens. If it’s somehow an animal/person, it fits in this call. 

It will be open through 1:30 pm (EDT, UTC -5) 8/25/14; prompting is free, tipping is vastly appreciated (and gets you more words!)

Closed!


Stories written so far include:
When the Stars Went Out
Kittens

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784886.html. You can comment here or there.

It’s You

From [community profile] dailyprompt, 2014-08-21: “it’s always you.”
For #FridayFlash – it’s Friday somewhere!

It’s you. It’s always you.

I stand up, I answer the door. I don’t bother to look through the peephole anymore, because it’s always you.

4:35 p.m., every day. I get up, I answer the door. I take the package, I mutter thank you, and I close the door. There’s always a package. There’s never a conversation.

I open the package, of course. It’s from you, and it wouldn’t do to ignore it. Flowers, food, socks. I unpack it all carefully. Blue socks, because it’s me, tie-dyed and organic, because it’s you. It’s very you.

It’s always very you.

I put away all the presents, very carefully. I eat the food, slowly, savoring every bite. I put on the socks – my feet are cold, so cold. You always know what to get for me. That’s very you, too.

When I’m done, I throw out the packaging. It wouldn’t due to leave it sitting around. I make sure to put the box in the recycling. You’d like it better that way.

I try very hard not to notice that yesterday’s box isn’t there. Recycling, I tell myself. Like my feet are cold because the socks were missing this morning. Like I have a vase for the flowers, even though I only have one vase.

The doorbell will ring again tomorrow, and I’ll answer the door. It will be you. It’s always you.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784514.html. You can comment here or there.

Doomsday Academy: First Day of History Class

This is set in Cynara’s Doomsday Academy, several years after its founding. Dáirine is the daughter of Amadeus and Margherita, from Year Nine stories, and shows up briefly in Yoshi tales.

On the first day of class, Dáirine – Professor Lily – gave each of her students a small clay pot filled with dirt and a maple seed.

This year, as with every year so far, she watched the students as they looked in confusion between her and the pots.

One of them – a girl with the Aelfgar look to her, although that wasn’t saying much, around here – cleared her throat. Gróa, that was her name, poor thing. “Miss – Professor Lily? We already had science class.”

Brave girl. Dáirine smiled at her. “Yes. I know. But there are more things to be learned from a seed and a pot than, say, photosynthesis. Now, humor me, if you will. Plant your seed, then pass around the water.”

She showed them by example, planting her own seed in its little pot. “Very good. Now, this tree is going to be with you until you graduate from Doomsday-“

“What if it dies?” The young man had a curly mess of red hair and more freckles than any three people ought to have. Sawyer, his name was.

“Well, then, we’ll learn something from that, too, and you’ll get another seed.”

“So… it’s meant to be a metaphor?” Gróa leaned forward. “Sort of?”

“Very good.” Dáirine used her best you-clever-person-you smile. “Many metaphors. The first of which will be – that which you nurture, survives.”

She sat down on her desk and looks around. “So. What do you think that the survivors of The Great Mess nurtured?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784272.html. You can comment here or there.

Musing about Identity online – in which I talk about people as cartoon figures, but only at the end

This is going to be a bit disjointed, apologies in advance.

I was thinking about identity online this morning (In part because a friend posted a comment which made me think their account had been hijacked).

We rely so much on that little icon to tell us who’s who – or the name at the top of the chat window. And, while I could probably imitate with some success the typing voices of my top 5 online friends, there is still a matter of trust – that when I’m talking in the comments to, say, Kelkyag, that it is actually the same person every time.

I get ~freaked out~ when I find out someone is talking to me on someone else’s account. It’s like… they put on a Friend One suit. At first, Friend One is just acting a bit strangely. Then, Friend One says something out of character, and by this point I’m starting to panic. Then Friend One says Ah ha ha ha no, this is Friend Two (Or Friend Ones’s Girlfriend)…

…and I get furious.

But *cough* that could just be me.

How do you deal with identity when your “mental image” of the person comes from a cartoon icon?

(Speaking of which, I’ve MET @inventrix in person, & I still picture her as her icon (not @capriox, though :-P).)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784049.html. You can comment here or there.

Tomato Season!

This is my favorite time of year for garden-eating, because I get to eat Tomato Everything.

Fresh Tomatoes on Pizza.

Grilled Cheese & Tomato Sammiches.

And homemade Tomato Soup.

We made this the other day – it’s one of my favorite non-recipes.

More or less: cook a hot sausage (we used chorizo) in a deepish pan. Once it’s rendered some fat and is cooked, pull out the sausage and put it aside. Toss in two onions and plenty of garlic, chopped roughly. Cook until tender, then add a bunch of fresh tomatoes.

Add some fluid – usually water – and maybe a bit of bouillon – or just stock, but we have bouillon around, not stock, so.

Let cook until the tomatoes are stewy and the soup is red all the way through. Add the sausage back in, and add fish sauce & molasses to round out the flavor.

Stir a little cream in at the table & enjoy.

Aah, summer.

(bonus? It’s so cold this summer, we can actually enjoy soup).

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/783347.html. You can comment here or there.

Temporary Add-On Landing Page for One-Off Stories

Stories for which I have no setting

Main Landing Page here

T is for The Impossible (LJ) – part of a time travel story
People Talk (LJ) Modern World/realism
“I can Write 150 more words.” (LJ) (Fluffy not-yet-porn)

Sci-Fi

Supply Exhausted (LJ) (sci-fi-ish)
Not the Man (LJ) On Identity (modern/Sci-fi)
B for Bizarre Beetles (LJ) Bugs and Bugs – Scifi-Modern

Horror

Through the Glass (LJ) Horror
Sharp Bits (LJ) horror?
Hard Choices (LJ) Horror

Fantasy and Fairy Tale

The Three of Guldenton (<a href=http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/861314.htmlLJ) Fairy Tale
Trade (LJ) Prince/Pauper, modernized
Q is for the Queen’s Quilt (LJ)
The First Step (LJ) Don’t venture off the path.
Time of Testing (LJ) Testing for Witches
Omens and Ill (LJ) (Might be in the same world as the oracle whose god got irritated. (here))

Stores and Doors

Gone Rummaging (LJ)
Through the Door (LJ) 2-part story involving magic portal

Closing Up (LJ) An Antique Store closes

O is for the Open Order (LJ)

Modern/Urban Fantasy
Romance was never this convenient to handle (LJ) High school and magic don’t mix well
He Couldn’t Fail (LJ) Urban Fantasy
Except (LJ) The one who doesn’t fit in
D is for Dungeon (LJ)
Talking To… (LJ) …oneself?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/782679.html. You can comment here or there.