“We’ve got it!”
Miranda Graham hurried into her boss’s office, waving a stack of papers and grinning from ear to ear.
“This is going to be the one. I know it, I just know it.”
“That’s what we thought about Sweetheart Day. And Grandmother’s Day. And Kiss-a-Friend Day.”
Miranda winced. “Kiss-a-Friend Day was a mistake,” she allowed. Continue reading
It’s been quite a month!
Let’s see.
I learned, without a doubt, that I need a lot more practice at outlining Short Stories. My sense of scale is, shall we say, lacking.
Cal – Inspector Caracal – has been a lot of help in this. Even if some of it is “Lyn? This is a novel.”
My goal was 20-22 stories, counting submission and Patreon.
I submitted one story (and made 3 false starts on another)
I wrote 5 short-short stories and three chapters of Expectant Wood, my serial, for Patreon
I wrote 8 “finish it” stories and started two others
I wrote over 65000 words just on the nano project.
So, not success, but productive & educational.
I also wrote 6 stories independent of the #nanowrimo project, started one longer storyline, and created a new universe.
My total wordcount for the month was 77,484.
I feel accomplished! And not burnt out! (Which was also a goal!)
Onward to December, to putting all 8 of those short stories into an anthology, and to planning for the January-April novel.
They ran through the smoky halls, looking behind them for the source of the rumbling, looking ahead of them for Rue 21. They were dodging obstacles they could barely see in the haze, looking for flames they couldn’t see, and holding hands, Abigail so she didn’t lose yet another Liv – Liv, presumably, for the same reason.
Neither of them saw what grabbed them and pulled them through a door. But as the floor shook and shook and something outside crashed, Abigail decided that whoever it was, was probably a friend.
She wiped her eyes, turned around, and saw two Livs and Vic Carter.
She turned to her side. Liv, skinny-and-clean Liv. The one on the left there, that was probably her Liv – she was wearing the same clothes, at least. The one on the right was clinging close to Vic Carter and staring at her in horror.
She took three measured breaths. “Liv?” Continue reading
The headline reads 100,000th “Multiple” Power registered.
I hadn’t realized I’d let myself get so big. I might have to pull things in a bit.
***
I always wanted to be a shape-changer. I guess, in a way, I have, even if all I can change into was myself.
It was the Golden Age of Superheros, back then, when the comet hit and many of us turned into something a bit different.
Me? I turned into several of me. Four, at first. There’s still a few stories of that first me around, The Quartet.
We sang four-part harmony pretty well.
But then I figured out how to replicate – or not – changes done to my body when I multiplied. And I figured out how to choose where the damage went.
The Quartet died. They died kind of old, and rather heroic.
I lived. Dyed hair and a change of costume. People don’t look too deeply.
There was Multiple Man – that one was a trick. Then there was Quantum Lass.
I can get old. But aging is damage, and there are ten of me in a nursing home, cheerfully playing cribbage with each other.
I wonder who was number 100,000. What was her name? Her schtick?
I’ve lost track, you see. I don’t even think I’m the original anymore.
And if I called them all back into me, I don’t even know what would happen.
But that’s all right. Because three of me are billionaires, and I can live in comfortable semi-retirement as Plurality, playing chess with myself and
never
ever
alone.
Written to WritingPrompts’s prompt:
In a universe of superheroes and sidekicks, Multiples are one of the most common powers, with roughly 100,000 individuals in possession. But the truth is, there has only ever been one Multiple. You.
Part two of The Testers.
🐝
The testing seemed to go on forever.
Kelly didn’t remember it being that long when she was 15, or before that when she was ten, but this one was supposed to be the biggest, the most important, so maybe that meant it was the longest, too.
She answered questions on things she couldn’t remember ever learning. She performed first-aid on a very creepy dummy that seemed to breathe and sweat and bleed. She sewed together two pieces of fabric.
The screen continued to ask her questions through all of it. Some were personal: when was the first time you had sex? Do you sleep with your partner-parent? Where do your children sleep? Continue reading
Addergoole, after year 9 but before year 13 (2004-2006), early in the school year.
I, uh, might have been watching a lot of Glee recently?
♪♪
“Why would you ever want something like that? Not you, Kairos.” Director Aconmorea’s gesture was dismissive. “I know that you’re interested in anything musical at all. But you… Rose… why ‘Glee’?”
“I want to be a Broadway star.” Rose, who had been named Rusiko but refused to be known by that, lifted her chin and stared evenly at the Director. “I need extracurriculars to have a chance at a good arts school and, more than that, I need practice.”
“But there are so many more productive things you could be doing. You are…” The Director trailed off, then caught herself. “You are Ellehemaei, fae. You have an amazing repertoire of possibilities at your disposal, and your Word selection could point you at any number of very useful and lucrative careers. So why – singing?” She did not bother to hide the distaste in her voice. Continue reading
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I did a little more work on the strange little building I made. Continue reading
A bonus post, because I was entertaining myself.
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The series of follies – small buildings, in other situations often in formal gardens, designed to be decorative while often resembling some purpose-built building – known most commonly as The Red-Tree Follies dot the landscape in a wavering set of ovals from east to west, providing lovely places for a picnic, for an evening’s rest, or for a small wedding.
This story is set in 1864, one year after Abe Lincoln made Thanksgiving a national holiday. Parties take time to plan, dontcha know?
🍁
Luke knew Mike had set him up the minute he walked into the party.
The way the fancy people in their expensive dresses turned to stare, the whispers that he couldn’t imagine he wasn’t supposed to hear:
Originally posted January 3, 2012.
🗡️
Now.
Tom looked at the knife the girl had given him, if you could call it a knife. He didn’t look long; there was a monster in front of him. There had been a lot of monsters in front of him lately, since the – well, since whatever the hell had happened.