The Will Reading

The heirs, sat, waiting for the announcement. He prepared himself for a riot when he read the will. The eldest son was there but he was glaring at everyone but his friend. Cal was more likely to bite heads off than smile; so far his pretty friend (Olive that was her name strange human name) had managed to keep from him from doing that. Cal was the only child of the chieftain to not only leave the area but the planet itself. He had made a name for himself as an import/export specialist and was now the wealthiest of the children. In addition to his fully functional third eye. Thank the spirits that Cal had it behind a bandanna so his siblings would 'feel' safer. The lawyer knew that the bandanna did nothing to stop Cal from reading minds or deciding to hurl that seven foot wooden javelin through one or all of their heads. The lawyer swallowed trying to get up the courage to read this damned will.
"Well, get on with it. Some of us have other places to be." Cal said glared at everyone but Olive.
She made a hissing sound at him and he frowned at her. For about half a second before just frowning at everyone but her.
"Yes my brother is right. Father's dead, burned, and now it is time to see who has the most power now." Talkt the first legal son but second to Cal spoke up.
"Y..yes of course." The lawyer stuttered out picking up the thin paper. He broke the seal on it and rolled it open. Of course there was the usual things, like money for the chief's concubines, with some extra for Cal's mother as the mother of the first son. Then came the big things. The things that were going to get some people killed and as the sweat rolled down the back his neck the lawyer said:
"And to my son Cal I leave the deed to...

Moving spider eggs

I had never seen one as big as that before. And that was saying something because I had been shipping ‘unusual’ things for about ten years now. I looked up at the client who was smiling at the giant ice spider egg the way a new mother looks at her baby. I was tempted to take off my bandana, that protected my third eye, and read his mind but decided against it. Anyone who looks at giant ice spiders, or at least their eggs, like that was head I had no business in.
“When can you guarantee delivery?” Mr. ‘Smith’ asked.
“Well I think that I can get to the over side of Neptune by tomorrow about nine in the morning.” I replied.

Mr. ‘Smith’ nodded, still smiling at the egg, as he signed my paperwork. He did not even notice the 25% mark-up I had added because it was a GIANT ICE SPIDER EGG. Even if I had pointed it out he would not have cared. After all no other shipper would touch it not just because it was a giant spider egg but mostly because you cannot just buy one from the net. But that was why he came to me and that was why I was in business. Import export business was a lucrative trade; if you stomach and/or live through your first job. Not the strangest thing that I have moved but definitely one of creepiest. I knew that I was going to be having dreams about this one for a while.
I put the egg in cold storage and locked the door. No way that thing was going to hatch while I was delivering it. The run was good. I got the thing out of my ship, signed for, and I was taking off when the first hairline cracks started showing on it. I was glad that I got paid up front. Ah the beauty of the modern age, credit sticks run through within twelve hours, and I had cleaned that 'Smith' out.

The Big city is different from Home

I wasn’t naïve, there was no way she was a superhero. But she did wear her knickers on top of her tights. And I like that in a person. But then again it was my first day in the ‘big’ city. San Francisco was the big city to me. The second clue that she could be a superhero was the fact that she was flying. With big colorful wings. She was diving straight down at some poor guy who, as I watched him, was hiding behind a normal looking woman. The guy was in purple and black with a half-face mask. And he was laughing in what I think was a maniacal fashion. I could practically see the explanation marks at the end of the laugh. He had at least five. The flying woman stopped just above him and glared down. At least I think it was a glare because her face was covered in a full mask.
“Well Bird? What now?” Purple mask demanded up at her.
“Now you are going to unhand that woman and come with me.” She replied.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t then I will pull you both up with me and you will drop like a stone.”
“Idle threats mean nothing to me.” He sneered.
“They are only idle if I won’t do them.”

At this she dropped the last ten feet and stood in front of Purple Mask. He snarled at her. Really, honest-to-God snarled. The normal woman screamed something like ‘Help me’ but I’m not too sure. Someone snickering near my ear made me turn. Another guy in a mask but this time he was not dressed in purple and black. He was in gray with a full grey mask and he was leaning against the building behind me. The winged woman whipped her head around to look at me. Or rather just passed me at the other guy. He was clearly a guy and a guy the winged one was not happy with. She lifted her hand starting to flip him off but stopped herself. She put her back to him and went back to Purple Mask.
“Oh Birdy don’t be that way.” Grey said from behind me.

‘Birdy’ was fighting with Purple Mask and the woman got free. I don’t know how it ended but man that woman sure at some wings on her.

Standalones and flash fiction

Today I am going to be doing more than just one thing. I am going to give what I think about standalone novels and then I am going to be give some flash fiction. I have not been writing anything but stuff for my graduate classes, this blog, and my book review blog. I know that looks like a lot but I am annoyed with myself about not writing anything else for so long. So I am going to be taking a prompt from ‘from my write side’ http://frommywriteside.wordpress.com/2013/03/26/master-class-2013/?blogsub=confirming#blog_subscription-2 and writing a quick flash fiction piece about it.

Standalone novels are the pillars of literary novels. All great novels from the previous centuries are standalones. I think that standalones are both harder and easier to write. For the easier; there are no plot threads that the writer has to worry about, no long narratives, no worry about the forgotten love interest. Just one story and just one book (after editing and rewrites I get that.). Downside about standalones; the writer may not have the time or the space to tell the full story, there may be forgotten plot points or characters that were important just dropped from the narrative leaving the reader confused. I know that there is more to say about both series and standalones but for now I think that I am finished with both. If you think of anything else that you believe that I should talk about please just leave me a comment and I will address them.

My prompt is One of the biggest complaints of motherhood is the lack of training.

One of the biggest complaints of motherhood is the lack of training Ona thought as she watched her eldest son walk away with the dust from the coming wind storm following in his wake. The red light from the thick atmosphere of Jupiter tinted his black hair red and the anger in his stride made it a darker red. She was the favorite concubine of the headman but her son, his son too, was not good enough to be the next leader of their people. Ona cursed under her breath about the ancient laws that stopped her son’s ambition. He was going away now. He was going to Titan, one of Saturn’s moons, to be a success there. His father was yelling at his back but her son did not turn, did not response to him at all. Her son, her Cal, was going to where she would never see him again. In vain did Ona beg his father for mercy or understanding or anything that would stop Cal from leaving. His father would not listen to her or to anyone but the old laws. The space shuttle that would carry Cal to his new life was lifting off and in a shower of dust and flame he was gone. Ona turned her back to the landing site and walked behind Cal’s father back to his home. In her heart of hearts Ona knew that she would never forgive him for taking Cal away from her or Cal for leaving.

As always thanks for reading and see you next week.

Series

Series are what I would like to talk about today. Series, love them or hate them, are everywhere. They have not always been. In fact before the beginning of the 1900 century series were seen as something only weak readers would read. Series were seen by librarians as something that should be used get young children to read but then they must weaned off of series so that they could read ‘real’ books. I learned this in a course about the history of books in grad school and it floored me. Series are just something that are so ingrained into our reading habits at this point that the very thought that they were or are less than real books just does not compute.

Now I both love and hate series at the same time. I love a good series with interesting characters that grow over the course of the book, I love to see the complex threads of a plotline come together, to see the stray threads just waiting to be picked up and explored in a later book. A series can be one of the most wonderful things in the reading world that you can read or write. A series gives both the writer and the reader a stable world to work and read from. It helps the writer because they do not have to be building new worlds with every book but can learn all about the world, they can know what color the shadows are. There is just something comforting about a known world.

But series can be boring. Because the writer does not have to be doing something all the time, some writers cannot do it. A standalone novel can be a wonderful experience. It can take you to new different places, can make us examine ideas that we have never encountered before, to go to strange new worlds, and seek out the human in them. New worlds are where we learn the most about ourselves and all literature in the end is about what it means to be human. What is human is the eternal question and literature is just one of the ways that we try to answer it.

So go write a series and a standalone novel. Go see where you best answer the eternal question of being human. You should be writing.

Be brave!

One of things that I have been complaining about for months now is graduate school. But it has given some things. It will (hopefully) get me a degree then a job in a library somewhere, it has given me a lot of self-knowledge, and it has given me some good friends; who I really need to call and get lunch with sometime. Other thing that it has given me it exposure to many different writing styles in the forms of all the papers and articles that I have read in the past two years. In doing that I have learned something very important; that is I am so tired of reading things written by smart people who are trying to prove to me that they are smart.

Allow me to explain that. In the world of academia there is this need to make sure that everyone knows that you are smart enough to be writing for the academic journals or a textbook. I would love to tell them is- If you are writing for an academic journal then I believe that you are smart. I do not think that you have your degrees by accident; I believe that you are someone important enough to be listened to. I know that this something that is not just in academic writing. I have read books that just scream ‘I am a good book! Look at me! Read me!’ If you can get your book published then I believe that you are a good writer and that you can write a good book. You do not have to prove to me that you are, I am willing to go on faith with you about it. I understand wanting to make your sale or your brand or whatever you are working so hard to get to. I know that you are working very hard to get there and if I believe that if you work hard, put your all into something, you will get everything back. You will get the book deal, you will get the readers, and you will be successful. But do not spend that time yelling through your writing about it. Just trust in yourself and in your work.

Self-knowledge is the best way to do this. Know where your strengths are and do not be afraid to see your weaknesses. The only time that weakness can hurt you is if you ignore it. There are so many people out there who can and will help you. Know where you can go for help, be that emotional help when you are hitting your head on the wall or someone who will read your work with honesty. Be brave and write on, readers!

Camp NaNoWriMo

So everyone is getting geared up for Camp NaNoWriMo but I am not doing it this year. I tried twice last year but with grad school, lupus, and general life it did not happen. This week has been rough for me because I have so much to work on and I just have no desire to write. I think that because I am writing one to two papers a week for grad school I just do not have anything left. I was going to write a post about defending fanfiction but I am sure that it needs. My post would have say "Fanfiction is good for writers because it gives us a safe place to play. It is not serious but can be taken seriously." I would have fluffed it up with more words but that is it. Fanfiction is good for young writers to work with because it gives them a voice without the seriousness and emotional involvement of their personal works.

Back to Camp NaNo I do recommend doing NaNoWriMo once in your writerly career because it shows you just what you can do if your back is to the wall. I know that some people do not like to have that kind pressure on them but without a deadline I would never get anything done. And NaNo has a very tight deadline. When I have done NaNo I have written like the wind and I loved it. I have done NaNo from a plotless point to having a plotted out course with an outline and guidelines for where I wanted to be by certain days. I know that there are people out there who has that anything written in such a haphazard way cannot be good. Not the first draft, but anyone who wants their first draft to the prefect is going to be disappointed, but if you edit it and work with it the first draft will turn into something special and important. So if you have the time and the guts to do Camp NaNo do it. Talk your friends into, I did. And I promise you will have more fun than you knew possible on a deadline.