This Is Going Better Than I Had Hoped

Yes. I have neglected my blog. I'm sorry. NaNoWriMo and Work have stolen my soul.

But that's a good thing.

I've written over 5 thousand words today thanks to Word Wars and Sprints on Twitter.

And I'm still going.

Work... is not so fun. They started Christmas music a week ago, and it's the same twelve songs over and over and over and OVER. I've taken to doing some constructive thinking while working.

Anyway! Writerly things.

I don't have any tips really, except to write what you love.

My first novel wasn't going well, and though I loved the idea and the characters, I think it was the setting that killed it. I don't know how to write modern day times, I excel and love fantasy settings.

So I may start over with that one sometime in a different setting and see how it goes. Anyway, an excerpt.

When the students, former students Aoduain reminded himself, were lined up parallel to the table, Aoduain caught sight of where Kadain was sitting and took heart in the smile when he caught the older man’s eye. When the Queen began speaking again, Aoduain forced himself to pay attention.

“This year, as in every year past, I give you, graduates, a choice. You may go about your lives with the knowledge and skills you have acquired here as a Protector, a Guardian, a Gatherer, or merely a Mother or a Father. You may choose to remain at the school as a Teacher, to dispense what knowledge you may to future students. All positions are, it need not be said but I shall say it anyway, just as important as any other. None may claim to be more important, for how would the Guardian or Protector be vigilant, without the food that the Gatherer brings?

“However, if none of those suit your fancy, or you are looking to challenge yourself, or broaden yourself to the horizons of the world, there is another choice. Our first queen, Rala, possessed a crown that was said to have been blessed by our Goddess Seleni. This was an amazing gift, and one that was to be protected above all others. However, many life times ago, the humans of a place called Horitan stole the crown, and it has been lost ever since. If you wish it, you may try and recover this crown. The individual who does so will have his, or her, name written in the history books and will be forever hailed a hero.

“Many have attempted this, and most have returned unsuccessful. However, those that return will not be looked down upon, nor treated any different for their failure. If there are any who wish to seek out the Crown of Rala, speak up now.”

The silence after the statement was stifling. No shuffling could be heard, and even the forest seemed to quiet for the answer. Aoduain had expected most of his class to react with assurance that they would be able to find the crown. However, none stepped forward. Perhaps the years of failure before now had something to do with it? However, Aoduain saw not the failure in front of him, but something else.

He stepped forward and he could hear a collective gasp not only from the crowd of parents and teachers, but also from his fellow students. The half elf thought he could succeed where full blooded and full bodied elves had failed. He could see the thought written on most faces. Not daring to look at Kadain, he instead looked straight at the Queen Delimbrya as he spoke.

“I will find the Crown.” He was proud that his voice was strong and did not waver as he spoke.

I really like the way the Queen spoke. Her speech was really good for my word count. And none of it was fake word padding, that's just the way she spoke. Really wordy.

Anyway. I promise I will try to be back to a regular posting schedule after NaNoWriMo

Keep Writing!

~Cheyenne

Uhm... NaNo?

So...

I don't have a post for today. Or yesterday.

So here's an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo novel?

As her attention strayed to the fire, she was caught off guard. The man landed a blow on her shoulder and Sarah Juliet slammed into the wall behind her with a sickening crunch. It was a sound similar to the sound wet wood makes when it snaps. But with more pain. Pain blossomed behind her eyes and blotted out the world. Red lines crossed her vision and threatened to fade to black.

Sarah Juliet fought it, though. She fought it with all her might. She would not pass out. She would not pass out. It worked. Her eyes opened and she flinched. The man stood close. Too close. His eyes were red, and blood shot. His hair, black, hung in lank strands down to his shoulders. His skin was as pale as alabaster, but looked as fragile as paper. As if a strong wind would blow him over, or shatter him like glass.

If the force that had thrown her into the wall was a show of strength, he was anything but weak. And he had her against the wall. His hand kept her shoulder against the wall, and her feet off the floor by at least a good twelve inches. His eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared.

“Who are you?”

She flinched at his voice. Gravelly and full of earthy tones, it reminded her of the sound of tires on gravel when alone at night after watching a horror movie. With a paved drive way, and no one is supposed to be home anyway. It made her fear to her very core. His breath didn’t help matters, either. It smelt like what she imagined a bloating, rotted corpse would smell.

“Who. Are. You?”

He obviously disliked her lack of an answer. Swallowing a sarcastic retort, she blinked to try and clear her eyes of the smoke.

“My name is Sarah Juliet.”

He smirked, and she saw his teeth were black as coal, and filed to points. “Juliet? Like the star crossed lovers from that old tale?”

“Something like that.”

I have no clue who the scary looking guy is. I don't think he's technically a bad guy though.

Have a good day!

In Which We Meet Shizake

Hey guys.

So, this is kind of like the Character's on Couches thing, but it's not. Shizake was part of a capcha I got when posting a comment on Jezzy's site. It got me thinking.

So, here we go.

Shizake

Author paces around her cluttered writing room, office, den, whatever you want to call it. It's badly lit, and corners hold shadows, perfect for inspiration to walk out of. But it's been awhile since inspiration has hit. Author is fairly certain that her Muse, whom she has never seen or spoken to, has abandoned her. 

Trolling the internet in search of something, anything, Author comes across a word. 

"Shizake? What is Shizake?" It has to be something. Author knows that. Everything is something. And if it stands out enough to procure comment, it's something important. 

Is it a place? It brings to mind sweeping spires and dangerous cliffs. But no, that's not right. 

Is it a world? Barren landscapes with sweeping winds and never ending deserts. That's not quite right, either. 

Author sits at her overly stuffed chair. It's so comfortable as to be uncomfortable, if that's even possible. Picking up one of the many chewed on pencils on the pristine desk, she brings the eraser end to her mouth and makes like a defective beaver. 

"Wha' ith Shi'ake?" It's rather hard to speak with a pencil in your mouth. 

"I am." A deep voice comes from one of the corners, but Author can't tell where. 

Peering into the darkness, Author finally finds a pair of deep brown- no, golden eyes staring back. As Author looks, he comes into focus. Deeply tanned skin crossed with scars. Sandy blonde hair hangs in a single tail down his back, many different ornaments decorate it. His square, neanderthal-like face with a slightly crooked nose, as if it had been broken one too many times, is rigid in it's glare. 

He steps out of the shadows and Author can see what he is wearing. Very little. Pants, tight at the waist and ankles, but flare out at the sides are dusty and worn with age. His feet and chest are bare. As is his face. 

"Isn't Shizake kind of a short name for one of the Zhahilen?"

"What is your point?" 

Author shrugs. "You speak Common quite well, also." 

"And?" This man would be a hard nut to crack. 

Author shrugs again, but stops as she hears his teeth grind audibly. She turns her gaze back to him, and stops. He is pointing a sword at her. The handle is- 

"Is that bone?!" She's out of her seat and around beside him in a flash. 

"It is the bone of the leg of my Kahlorahkta." 

Author takes a step back, looking the tall man up and down. "You're a Zha'Dahkrah? But your hair-? And the sword?"

"Yes. The sword is made from steel. I gave up my life many many days ago." 

"And your hair-?" 

"I am no longer Zhahilen, I am Zhacorahl."

"You are Forsaken?" 

Author rubs her chin as she takes in this information. Taking a seat back in her chair again and curls her feet up underneath her. "Very well. If you would pass through the door behind you and choose a room, all accommodations will be provided for you until you are needed."

---

*stretches fingers*

Well. That was something. I love my writer brain. 

Have a wonderful Halloween! 

My House Is Kinda Clean

Hey Guys!

So I've decided my blog has been too formal. I'll save all the preaching for when I'm actually on the road to being published, how about that?

Now that's not to say I won't be sharing my writing process... I will. I am, first and foremost, a writer. And pretty much my entire life revolves around that fact. Outside of work and my boyfriend... yup, all revolves around that.

SO! Today I was in an odd mood. I was trying to plan my character Jonathon some more for NaNoWriMo. But I decided it'd be a better idea to clean the entire house. You have no idea what an undertaking this is. My boyfriend is a habitually messy person, and I am a habitually lazy person. We don't match well when it comes to keeping a clean house. Also. WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?! I HATE cleaning. Like, you have no idea. But suddenly, my OCD kicked in and I was like... "Wow, this place is a mess."

...I don't know either. But I got most of the living room cleaned up. Cleaned the stove, and tidied the kitchen. Finished off my pot of coffee (maybe that had something to do with the urge? Coffee does strange things to a person. Great things, yes, but strange.). All the while I was listening to music. Then I was like "Hey! I haven't seen Tangled in awhile, I'll pull it up online to play it in the background." *shame*

I love the movie, and sat down to watch it. I've done like three loads of laundry, though, so I haven't been doing *nothing* while it was playing... And I suddenly don't want to clean anymore. Maybe I need more coffee...

Onto the writing point! I don't think any of my blogs will be without *something* to do with writing or a book. It's the way I am. While I was making breakfast this morning (oh yes, I did that too, I never do that), I had a brilliant idea! Actually, two. One for Mortality, one for Tainted.

Mortality. So, the Mortality idea came when I was washing the dishes before making breakfast (pancakes, eggs, and bacon, in case you were wondering). I realized I had so many characters that were mentioned but not fleshed out, and was like... "How do I incorporate them?" So, I was thinking, they're about to go on what is essentially a scavenger hunt for an item that hasn't been seen in centuries so... They split into groups. Follow each of the groups and go from there~! GENIUS!

Tainted. This one came... either in the shower after breakfast or while I was making the pancakes, I don't recall which. It's less ground breaking than the one above, but considering I know less about this novel, it means more to me at this point. So, I was toying with the idea in my head, just mulling it around, and it came to me. Garret isn't Jewel's half-brother, he's an ex-boyfriend. The crazy kind. He got it into his mind that the "party" and sacrifice would win her back and show her the joys of being a werewolf, but when she denies him, he chases after them, still trying to win her back, and also, probably kill Jonathon when he finds out she's falling in love with another man (Jonathon).

Ah... I think this post is long enough. Quite a bit of a rant, there.

Leaving you with this

When do you get your best "eureka!" moments?

What's the last such moment you remember?