Also, no, I haven’t managed to look at a lot of the others because my internet hates me (well, Chinese internet hates everyone in general) and I’m having some serious issues even getting around the storyaday site, never mind wordpress. Hopefully I can sort it out this weekend when exams are over .

Day Two

Inspiration: the daily prompt on the main site and this picture on my ‘writing inspiration’ pinterest board.

It was no use! The apprenticeship was almost within her grasp, but if she couldn’t focus-!

Gabrielle looked up sharply when a knock sounded on her door, her pretty face twisted in a frustrated frown. “Who is it?”

“Tyler. Can I-?”

She bounded over to the door and let him in with a smile, her irritation pushed aside in the wake of her excitement. He laughed, surprised, when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and then rested his hands on her waist when she drew back. “You look different, Gabby.”

So did he. Her eyes followed the lines of new, defined muscles – the result of three years’ hard toil at the forge, she assumed. That, and sword work. Her brother had already told her Tyler was better than he’d ever seen him. “Come in,” she said, still smiling. “I’m just-”

She turned to look at her desk. Papers were scattered everywhere, evidence of her worn patience. Tyler laughed again and perched on her bed. “Still working hard?”

“The selection’s next week. I’ve still not had a vision strong enough to submit for interpretation.”

“There’s still time, though?”

Gabrielle sighed and sank back down onto her chair. “There’s still time,” she agreed with a nod, “But not a lot of it. And the more time I spend on this, the harder it seems to get.”

He smiled and she shook her head. “Enough about that, anyway, it’s not important. What are you doing here?”

Tyler began to explain and Gabrielle listened as he outlined the ending of his apprenticeship and his decision to become a weapons master. “I love forging swords, Gabby, it’s so much work but it pays off in the end. One day I might even get to work at the castle, can you imagine that? So I got some time to come back here and look for a suitable place to refine my work.”

“You’re going to be here for a while?”

“Of course. I always planned on coming back here sooner or later.” His grin was infectious. “Besides, you knew I wouldn’t leave you for too long.”

Gabrielle laughed with him, fiercely glad to see her childhood friend again. Her eyes fell on the papers and she sighed. “I’d go into town with you, but…”

Tyler frowned and stood, towering over her – she was sure he hadn’t been that tall, before- “What’s the problem you’ve been having?” he asked.

“I just can’t seem to focus for long enough. I know the images are there, they’re just too blurry for me to make out.”

Tyler nodded once, then again, more decisively. “I’ve got an idea.” He reached down and took her hands, pulling her up and walking her to the bed.

Gabrielle felt herself redden a little. “Tyler, you-”

“Nothing untoward, I promise,” he said, though this grin was a little sharper. “Just, you trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course.” As if it needed saying, Gabrielle thought.

“Good.” He untied a piece of cloth from his wrist and settled himself behind her. Slowly, carefully, he moved until the cloth covered her eyes and tied it as a blindfold. His hands rested gently on her shoulders and Gabrielle found she couldn’t see anything at all.

“I thought it might help you focus,” he said, his voice a little closer to her ear than she’d expected, making her jump.

“Maybe,” she said quietly. She closed her eyes more out of habit than anything else, though with the blindfold there was no intrusion of light, no distraction but Tyler’s fingers, where they burned a brand into her skin.

Gabrielle breathed deep, hearing the deep roll that signified a vision, watching the colours dance and blend together. When the first image came – a golden songbird – she gasped and Tyler’s fingers tightened on her shoulders.

More, suddenly – smoke and clouds, a deep scarlet that might be blood but might not, crashing waves and, above it all, an arrow that Gabrielle knew would find someone’s heart. End their life.

She was gasping when she came back to herself and Tyler’s face swam into view above her. He’d tugged the blindfold off and his arms were wrapped around her, the only things keeping her up and on the bed.

“What happened?” he asked. There was real panic in his voice, not like when they were children and Gabrielle used to get flashes of what could happen.

“I saw… I saw…”

He pushed some of her hair back from her forehead, tucking a curl behind her ear. “What did you see, Gabby?”

She grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and pulled him down for a kiss that was passionate and sweet and long, long overdue.

When she pulled back, Tyler was smiling. “Well,” he said, “That was not what I was expecting.”

He kissed her again, anyway.

A little about me then, for those of you who I haven’t met (a lot of people, I think): I’m Charlotte, I’m a student and currently, I’m in China – which is why my timing on the site might seem a little off sometimes. I tried this for the first time last May and managed four days before I stopped writing (which was better than last September – I wrote nothing!) so hopefully I’ll do better this year. (I’m hoping I’ll last at least a week.) This year has, so far, been poor as far as my writing productivity goes – again, hopefully this will help.

I have already finished my story for today (it’s nearly 10 p.m. here already!), though I didn’t manage the 100 words that were suggested in today’s prompt. I clocked in at 106 . I’m going to leave it here – and though I have to be up obscenely early for a class tomorrow so I’m going to bed soon, I will probably creep on everyone else’s blogs when you’re all sleeping. Oh, time zones~

Day One (because I’m terrible with titles – I’ve just given up!)

Inspiration: the drabble prompt on storyaday and the 1st May prompt here: sanity

Molly shook the last pill out onto her palm. It gleamed white, a promise in her hand. The bottle stared up at her, empty, her betrayer.

She stared at her reflection, into large hazel eyes rimmed with red. There were no more – and no way to get them, either. She blinked and the yellow door flashed in her mind. Her mouth opened; an aborted scream. No. She’d go back there and she couldn’t – she couldn’t.

“Molly?” Tara asked, voice muffled by the door. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed the pill and fumbled the bottle into the bin. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine. Just fine.”

As in, tomorrow.

As in, tomorrow tomorrow and oh my god I am so not prepared for this.

I was going to do something similar to what Vanessa Matthews did in April; she wrote thirty contest entries in thirty days and submitted them all — but I haven’t managed to round up enough entries and as it is, I think I’ll have enough to do, so that’s going onto the burner for next May.

See, the thing is, I’m a university student studying foreign languages — and on the 4th September, I’m moving to Germany for six months. I’ve got to move and get settled; but if anything, I think the challenge may help me; it’ll keep a little bit of ‘normalcy’ in my life, a little bit of routine.

And even if it didn’t, I’d still be doing it, because why shouldn’t I?

(I am not going to do what I thought was a good idea this May though; that is, I’m not going to write all my first drafts out by hand. If the mood strikes me, sure, but it’s a great way to burn out quickly, in my case…)

So, I’m in. Good luck to anyone else who’s going to do it . Remember that even one more story is one more success!

Well, that’s not true. I got a story for the fourth, though it was a shambles – it was a kind of back story for one of my characters, but I didn’t like it. Then I started one for the fifth using the picture prompt idea on the website, but it wasn’t really going anywhere and I will admit, I gave up.

After that, I just fell into a hole of revision and assignments – but with my final exam taking place this Wednesday, I’m preparing to get back in this challenge again. Sure, I won’t end the month with 31 finished pieces (probably), but if I can even get 10, that’s likely more than I would have written.

So, I’m off to see what I can do with this ‘fish out of water‘ prompt today. How’s everyone else getting on with this challenge?

Still, this story is 90% dialogue. I was thinking it might be confusing, but it shouldn’t be; there’s only two characters!

Puppy Love

“Wow. I, uh, I was not expecting that.”

“Yeah, I gathered.”

“I mean, that’s not to say I never… I just didn’t expect it-”

“Yeah.”

“From you. You know?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not that I, I don’t have anything against you, it’s just-”

“No, look, if you’re going to have a problem with this, I’d rather know now-”

“No, no, no! There’s no problem, I swear-”

“Really? Because John said, when I asked him-”

“John? John from accounting? What did he say?”

“He just- he said about your father.”

“What about my father?”

“He told me your father was a member of the League.”

“What- I- Only for a few years!”

“And then he left?”

“No, then he died, but that’s not the point! I’m not my father!”

“No, but you’re not accepting of me either, are you? I can tell. I’ve seen it before; I’ve lived through that before. I can’t be with someone who truly hates that part of me, not again.”

“I don’t! I just, every time, imagining you there, alone-”

“There are things that have to be dealt with- I know it’s a big ask, I know it is, but you don’t think there are worse things? Worse situations?”

“I… I guess.”

“My ex, she used to spend that night with her girl friends. She’d go out, have fun- I mean, she ended up having a bit too much fun, met Harry, but still, it is something that can be dealt with.”

“But what if, you know. You get out? Something goes… wrong?”

“Nothing has ever happened like that! Ever! See, this is why I hate people like your father, just making up damn lies all the time-”

“Don’t talk about my father that way!”

“Why not? You know what he was! God, I should have just listened to John-”

“What? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, we’ve had our fun. It’s- it’s over. You’ll never love me; you’ll never see past that other part of me.”

“I- Do you know what, fine! You don’t know a damn thing about me and if you’re going to keep thinking these ridiculous things then, yeah, it’s over!”

“Fine. It’s great to see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Ugh! I hope someone shoots you – with a silver bullet!”

“Out! Just get out, now!”

“I’m going!”

The door slammed shut and the monster sat in the dark, alone.

Shoot the Messenger

Gabriel never thought he’d face death down the barrel of a Glock 19. It was too ordinary – an embarrassment, really, to both his name and his reputation. He shifted his gaze to the girl holding the gun and considered her. She certainly wasn’t a cop, so that was interesting, but judging by the way her eyes kept flicking around the room, she was no professional either.

Gabriel sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. This was mortifying! He really hoped no one would hear about this, especially if she somehow did manage to kill him. He supposed he’d be too dead to care at that point, but still-

A jingle of metal caught his attention and he looked up to see the girl holding out a pair of handcuffs. Police issue, too. Very interesting. “Put ‘em on,” she said.

He tilted his head to the side and studied her. She was eighteen – maybe nineteen – with a slim figure that came from eating little rather than working out. Her nerves were shot, judging by the minute tremor in her limbs. She was pretty, he supposed, but it was more youth than anything else. There was definitely nothing outstanding about her face; her complexion he thought could be described as sallow and the puffiness around her eyes and condition of her lips suggested that she had been scared into this whole thing. He’d seen assassins her age before – a couple of them – and this just reaffirmed his theory. She was no assassin, or bounty hunter, or whatever the hell she was pretending to be.

He smiled his ever effective shark-like grin and found himself satisfied at the panic in her eyes. The gun didn’t waver though, which was fascinating. Something was keeping her steady.

“Who are you?” he asked. Some people might say he wasn’t in the position to ask questions, but those people were idiots.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook the handcuffs. “Put ‘em on.”

Gabriel smiled again. “You’re no professional,” he said. “A professional would have put a bullet in my head as soon as look at me. So, the question remains as to who you are, who sent you and what they have over you to make you do this.”

Her hand tightened on the gun and her eyes narrowed. “Put the damn cuffs on! I just need to take you somewhere, that’s all!”

That narrowed the field of candidates considerably and Gabriel grimaced. Alive meant interrogation, probable torture. He wasn’t so keen on that idea.

The girl took another step forward, so that the cold muzzle of the gun was pressed against Gabriel’s forehead. “Put the cuffs on. I won’t ask you again.”

“You won’t kill me either,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “You’re a scared little girl and you don’t have it in you.”

She flinched, almost imperceptibly, but it was the sign Gabriel had been waiting for. He reached up, twisting the gun out of her grip and kicking her to the ground. She stared up at him, her expression terrified.

He flicked the safety off the gun. “You were never going to shoot me. Now, put the handcuffs on, please.”

She reached over and put the handcuffs around her wrists. When Gabriel heard the click of the lock, he dragged her up and onto the chair. He pointed the gun at her and she whimpered.

“Please don’t kill me,” she begged. “Please!”

Gabriel caressed her face, then grabbed a handful of her long hair and pulled her head back. “Sorry,” he said, “But if the people making you do this told you anything about me, you’ll understand – it’s just business.”

“No, no-”

The shot rang out and the girl was still. Gabriel let her head go and listened to the drip-drip-drip of blood on the floor.

He glanced around his apartment. Nothing that important was here, though it was troubling that this identity had been discovered. He flicked the safety back on the Glock and stuffed it in his pocket.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for the girl. She should have known better. He shrugged his jacket on and picked up the car keys. The fire escape would do; he’d have time to fly to Dublin before anyone discovered her body and by then he’d be halfway around the world with a new identity.

He climbed down and landed in the alley, pausing a moment to look around. Once there, he could find the people after him. He’d been considering retirement a few days ago. He’d enough money now; he’d not have to worry about looking over his shoulder.

Gabriel climbed into the car and started the engine. It purred as he pulled away. If they weren’t going to let him out of the game – then, well, he’d just have to teach them how to play, wouldn’t he?

[819 words]

Phoenix Song

Marina had managed her transformation on the first day. A look of calm bliss had crossed her face and there had been a ripple in the air around her. When Kel blinked and looked again, an elegant deer stood in her sister’s place. She gasped from her hiding place on the balcony. It had been perfect.

That was ten years ago, though Kel still remembered it vividly, even more so on the eve of her fifteenth birthday. She would try in the morning – hopefully, like Marina, she would shift first time; but her parents had told her, if not, then no matter. It had taken her mother six months to get the hang of it, her father a year. She’d manage it, they were sure.

Kel sighed and closed her eyes, budging further down her bed. Her doubts niggled at her, but she ignored them. They were probably right, her parents. They knew what they were talking about, after all.

*

Morning came and Kel woke with an uneasy feeling. Marina came to get her at ten, taking her by the hand.

“Remember – don’t be nervous. Do as Master Kai says and you’ll be fine. It’s easy once you know how.”

They left the house and walked the grounds, the grass damp underfoot. Master Kai sat under the old oak tree – the same place he’d been sitting ten years ago. Marina let go of Kel’s hand.

“Rin-” Kel began. She didn’t know how to continue.

“Go on,” Marina said. “Don’t keep him waiting too long.”

Kel nodded and, biting her lip, stepped under the shadow of the tree. When she glanced back, she saw a deer disappear over the hill. Master Kai inspected her before he stood. His face seemed grave.

“You are Kel?”

“Yes, sir,” Kel said. She shifted from foot to foot.

“Stand still.” He circled her and Kel was sure she could see something of a wolf in his features. “Chin up, look straight ahead.” Kel did as she was told, breathing deep the scent of leaves and grass. It was autumn now and already leaves were scattered across the ground.

Master Kai stepped back and Kel followed the movement with her eyes. “Do you know what I’ll be?” she asked quietly. He didn’t answer, but stared at her for a moment.

“Go back inside,” he said finally. His tone was gentle. “I must speak with your parents.”

*

Kel didn’t know what he said, but when she saw her parents next, her mother was crying and her father was cursing. Marina was speaking with Master Kai, so Kel let herself out onto the balcony and sat there in the rain.

The water was cool but not really unpleasant and it drowned out the sounds of her mother crying. Kel hugged her knees to her chest and tried to puzzle out what was going on. Master Kai must have seen something in her – what, she wasn’t sure – but it must have been awful.

Would she transform into some kind of monster?

The thought gripped Kel and wouldn’t let her go – what kind of creature would be so hideous they wouldn’t let her change; was it just something they didn’t want to look at?

There were no dangers associated with the transformation, as far as she’d heard; no stories of peoples’ animal counterparts taking over or of strange things happening during the process. It led Kel’s mind to only one conclusion: her sister, Marina; beautiful, lovely Rin. Rin the elegant deer. Kel, the hulking, lumbering… what?

She stood, wiping a mix of rain and tears from her face. Master Kai only came to see the creature, to focus the mind; the process was simple enough. Be calm, in body and soul. Find the animal and release it. The first time was the hardest and the older a person got, the more difficult it became.

Kel closed her eyes. She listened to the rain, pounding on the balcony, but then turned her ears inwards and listened to her own heartbeat. One try couldn’t hurt. Her heart slowed and she forgot about her parents, about Marina and Master Kai and the crying.

She saw a bird. It wasn’t one she recognised; though it was about the size of an eagle, its feathers were a deep, burning red. It turned its head in the recesses of her mind and chirped once. Kel swallowed and stretched her arms wide.

She felt the flames; they were warm but not hot and the bird chirped again. There was no pain, not exactly, just a tingling sensation that wracked her entire body, and then Kel was gone and the bird stood in her place.

The noise from inside seemed louder, so Kel spread her wings and flew. If the rain seemed a little cooler, she didn’t notice, too caught up in this new sensation. The wind whistled past, buffeting her, keeping her up and it was only then that Kel realised – she’d done it alone! She’d transformed, first time, alone. She let out a cry of delight, revelling in the musical pitch; this was all she’d wanted and more. The bird she’d seen was beautiful. She was as good as Rin, as perfect.

Fleetingly, she thought of her family and she turned back towards the house, coming in to land on the balcony again. If they only saw, they’d understand. They’d see that whatever their doubts, she was fine.

The transformation back took a little more time, but that was normal too, Kel thought as she lay, panting, on the balcony. She’d get used to the switch.

The rain still poured, soothing against her warm skin. Kel wiped her brow. It must have just been the flying.

She stood and screamed as a burning sensation raced up her legs. It felt like flames all over – like she was burning alive – and oh, it hurt! Marina was the first out and reached for her, but drew back just as quickly.

“Kel,” she whispered. Kel looked at her, vision blurry through the haze of pain. “Look.”

She pointed at Kel’s arm. Kel followed her gaze, staring at the raindrops that sizzled and evaporated when they came into contact with her skin. “What…?” she began, but her voice was a useless sandpaper rasp.

Master Kai pushed his way past her parents and pulled Marina aside. “You’re the phoenix, Kel,” he said, “And you will burn and burn and burn unless you stay that way.”

Kel understood, then, her mother’s sadness, her father’s anger, Marina’s bargaining. She closed her eyes and embraced the bird.

“You can never remain human,” Master Kai said. Kel dived off the balcony and disappeared into the night.

*

She sees a deer sometimes, through the trees – though the creature never comes too close. A swan comes looking for her occasionally, thought the horse stays away. Kel can’t bring herself to blame him.

The wolf, the cunning, clever wolf, tricks her down into the clearing and stares at her until sun-up. When he transforms back into Master Kai, he still stares.

“You can’t hide forever.”

No. But she also can’t explain that she hates her own shadow – never mind her own reflection. She hisses a low note and propels herself into the trees again.

He follows her still, even as his joints stiffen and she tries to get away. When he dies, finally, at the foot of the mountains, she flies down and looks at his body. He was the one who never abandoned her, the one who refused to let her live out her existence alone.

She cries out her phoenix song and with a powerful flap of wings, lifts off into the sky.

Kel has a deer to find.

[1,299 words]

Throughout the month, I’ll post some of them on this blog, but I wanted to see what I could do with the rest of them and, if they’re good enough, it seems as good an idea as any to submit them somewhere.

I started investigating this through Duotrope, a site that has a massive database of publishers. About a week or so ago, I made a list of 31 different places I could possibly submit to, though obviously I won’t be submitting to all of them. To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll submit to any at all, but there’s no point in ruling it out.

The main thing I’ve found out, when I’ve scouted around for information on this topic, is that I have to keep an eye out for ‘first rights’; that is, whether something has been published before or not. As far as I can tell, publishing something means that it has been published in a magazine/anthology/whatever, by a third party – but also, if you publish it on your own blog and make it available for everyone to read. Most places like first electronic rights, so publishing to my blog would take these pieces out of the picture. However, some do accept reprints – so these pieces would apply there.

Some opinions seem to vary on whether or not publishing to your blog but then restricting access to a piece – i.e., by password-protecting a post, counts as publication or not. Most people seem to think this doesn’t, but I have seen a few people who aren’t sure, so that is something that should be ascertained before posting.

Short post, because I’ve got to get ready for all my May challenges, which begin in… 10 minutes! Ahh! Still, is anyone thinking of submitting any of their May stories? I look forward to reading the ones people post on their blogs!

- Luna

(Incidentally, for an interesting result of last year’s challenge, check out what Morgen Bailey did – she compiled all her stories into one collection and it’s out as an ebook! Looks good! )

Anyway, I’m thinking this post won’t be as long as the last one. (Hopefully!) There’s a really good blog post on the story a day site about how to develop story ideas, plus throughout May there’s going to be a prompt provided every day (as far as I’m aware, anyway).

However, I know some of us like to find our own prompts, and I happen to have a boat-load of links to lists just hanging around on my hard drive, so I thought I’d share a few of these.

First up, Seventh Sanctum. This mainly seems to be good for fantasy/sci fi based prompts, but there’s a huge number of generators on there – from the Grimoire of Questionable Spells Generator, to the aptly named Quick Story Idea Generator. They’re definitely fun; I’ve used them a few times just to spark off initial ideas.

The Pinterest board hosted by the site 1000words is a good place for ideas too; they’ve put together a collection of pictures to be used in their project of hosting a flash fiction a day for the whole of next month. I presume it will be kept live after the site’s full launch; I certainly hope so, at least.

Livejournal is another place that I go to to get a lot of prompts. A lot of fanfiction communities have themes that they like to use, which include a lot of prompt tables. You can use ones from communities like Mission Insane, 50originals (where the tables are organised by genre), or even 500themes (just as it says on the tin; I’ve been working my way through this one for ages!).

… They’re the ones I use over and over; but there are certainly more prompts out there and websites dedicated to telling you where to find them. (Here’s an article on the ‘5 Best Writing Prompt Sites‘, too!)

What’s your favourite prompt site, or do you just draw inspiration from the world around you? If you’ve got any good links, feel free to leave them in the comments! I’m sure I’ll need any help I can get this May!

- Luna.

Thing is, I don’t really write short fiction.

I’ve taken part in NaNoWriMo the last couple of years and have spent the time in between working out how to write novels. Even the shorter parts I do write tend to be scenes from larger works. Short stories seem daunting in terms of their length. However, I like the idea that I can write a full story very quickly, without the meticulous planning and masses of editing that go into a novel.

So, when I first found the website, I looked up the words ‘short story’. Just that. I mean, I knew what a short story was to read one, but I needed a little more information. I got this:

A short story is a story with a fully developed theme but significantly shorter and less elaborate than a novel.

Well, that made sense. A general consensus on length (from Wikipedia and other sources, such as calls for submissions) gave me a variation between 1,000 – 7,500 words (though Wikipedia does say that anything under 20,000 words is short fiction!). That wasn’t so bad. Picking up a theme? Harder. I’ve never been good at defining a theme before I start, but I’m sure it’s one of those things I can work on throughout the month.

I then heard about this thing called flash fiction, mainly through the National Flash Fiction Day events that kept popping up around the web. So, I looked up that, too.

Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as 300, while others consider stories as long as 1000 words to be flash fiction.

So, here, we’re looking at somewhere between 300 – 1000 words (though most places I’ve looked say, simply, less than 1000 words, please), which seems even worse for me! I know I’m going to have a tendency to write scenes rather than stories if it’s that short (especially since I’m having trouble telling the difference in my attempts right now!). I’m hoping that’s something I’ll be able to work on – it should be, if I can work out where my problems lie.

As far as I can tell, the thing that differentiates a scene from a story is a change. Every story has a change, a goal that the character(s) is reaching for. The problem is, with a novel, it’s easier to let the character reach that goal or not because you’ve got more time to set up obstacles and developments; in shorter fiction, it is more often implied (as far as I can tell).

I might be over-thinking it somewhat.

Still, I know what I’ll be working on at the start of this May. I’m going to try out a variety of short stories and flash fiction – though mainly flash fiction on National Flash Fiction Day (16th May) – and see what I can do with it after. (I’m borrowing a commandment from Audric Clarke’s blog: “All stories are created equally, and none shall be forced into the Scrapped folder, no matter how much editing it takes.”)

Phew. So, that’s my short overview of short fiction. Tomorrow is going to be my second prep post, about prompts and ideas for writing. Hopefully it’ll be a bit more coherent than this.

- Luna.