Saturday Stories

I’m going to be completely honest with you right now…I have no idea how much I wrote last week. I know I wrote around 3 thousand (plus) words if we combine the blog posts, short story, and chapter book work. However, most of that was admittedly on one article. I haven’t typed up Paulonious Punk’s wordage for the week so I can’t know what the exact count is there…it isn’t anywhere close to the 2000 I wanted. I’m going to guess that count was less than 500.

So why am I admitting this to you? Well, I want to be truthful and I want to be held accountable for my goals, even if that means telling all of you lovely people that I failed for the week.

What did I do?

  1. wrote 4 handwritten pages of Paulonious Punk.

2. wrote 1 flash fiction story 1st draft for contest.

3. turned in the short story I’ve been working on to the contest for which it was intended.

4. read about 200+ pages in 3 different books…but haven’t completed any of them yet. I’m hoping to change that today.

5. Had a Marvel Movie Weekend with my mother and daughter

How did your week go? Were there any goals you met, or didn’t meet, that you’d be willing to discuss? Leave me a comment and let’s get a conversation going!

On to the Short Story! This week’s excerpt is from Dragon on My Neck, Book 1 of The Stone Dragon Saga (currently available on Amazon)

“I bet that silver will look great with your complexion,” Jane announced, “Try it on!”

“OK, you don’t have to twist my arm,” Arianna giggled and slipped the heavy silver choker around her neck. She jogged through the kitchen and hallway to admire her image in the bathroom mirror.

“Oh Jane, isn’t beautiful?!” Arianna gushed, moving her head from side to side in order to better see the glint of her necklace against her pale skin.

“Very nice,” Jane agreed, “I like the way the silver and stones peek through your dark hair, it’s like you have lights under there.”

“COOL!” Arianna moved her head some more to catch the effect and the girls giggled.

“Nice? COOL?” A tiny but deep voice interrupted, “How about gorgeous? I like that one, or Handsome, since I am a male.”

Jane stared again at Arianna’s necklace as she watched its head move and its mouth open again, “Well…ladies have you lost the ability to speak? I’m sure you were speaking English. Let’s see, how about French? German maybe? Irish?” The dragon repeated himself in many languages, including a clucking noise that sounded like chickens running through a farmyard. When the girls finally answered though, it was in English again.

“What’s going on?” Arianna asked, too scared to try removing her necklace as it moved and chattered on her neck.

“I…I have no idea,” Jane replied, still gaping at the miniature dragon as it finally stopped talking and began to glare balefully at the roommates.

“Ummm…Mr. Dragon sir,” Arianna looked down at the bobbing head under her chin, “How can you talk to us?”

“I can talk any language, including animal and magical,” The dragon rather proudly announced, unlatching his tail and slithering down to the counter.

“Oh, How? I mean, no offense but you’re a necklace.” Arianna grimaced, “Or I thought you were.”

“I am,” The dragon grinned suddenly, a surprisingly cute addition to his features, “I am also a dragon that moves and speaks. I shoot fire from my nose and ice blasts from my throat.” This time he growled and puffed himself importantly.

“Fire and Ice?” Jane asked incredulously, “That’s pretty amazing, especially for a dragon of your umm…stature.”
The dragon snorted a flame in Jane’s direction and turned it to a ice pellet with his breath, wheezing out what sound like a giggle as it hit her arm.

 

“Ok, well…obviously I was mistaken.” Jane took a few steps back from the counter and earned another smile from the creature on the counter.

 

“What’s your name?” Arianna asked, “I hate to keep calling you ‘the necklace’ since you’re alive and all.”

“Thank you,” The dragon nodded his head regally at Arianna, “My name is….Al.”

 

“AL?”

 

“Its short for Aliphonsore,” he shuddered, “My mother saddled me with that name.”

 

“OK, Al…I like it,” Arianna decided, “I’m Arianna and this is Janice.”

 

“Jane, please,” Jane replied, “And I call her Anna.”

 

“Pleased to meet you,” Al answered, happy to finally be getting to know his new mistresses.

 

“Al, how did you become a necklace?” Arianna wondered aloud.

 

“Let’s go find somewhere comfortable for you two to sit, and I’ll tell you.”

 

After gathering hot tea and snacks, the girls settled onto the soft couch in their living room and Al positioned himself on the coffee table, beginning to stretch his wings as he contemplated how to begin his story.

Saturday Stories

As part of my goals for 2016, I sat down and came up with a schedule for my blog and BookTube posts. Now, I may post more than I have set up and I may, just may, not post as much (sigh…I know it will happen. I try so hard…but I digress), but at the moment my set up will look something like this:

Sunday – video (and possibly written blog ) Weekly Goals, TBR, and anything relevant on the schedule. 

Monday – Video “random” life topics. Movies, TV, Music, Writing, etc. Non-reading related items. 

Tuesday – Blog Spotlight on —Artists, Illustrators, etc…similar to Author Interview Fridays but may not include interviews. 

Wednesay – Blog and Video – The Return of What are You Reading Wednesdays…book reviews, TBR updates, etc. 

Blog – Writer’s Quote Wednesday

Thursday – off day

Friday – Blog Author Interview Fridays

Saturday – Blog Saturday’s Stories – Weekly Updates and Writing Excerpts. 

So that is my update for this week…I am also aiming to include weekly word counts and things worked on.

The Siren’s Tale (a short story) – 581 words

The Way We Were… (novel)- 846 words

Paulonious Punk (children’s book) – 92 words

Blog Posts – 311 words

Total Since 1/1/16 – 1830 words

Not a bad way to start out the year, if I do say so myself! Leave me a comment with your own new goals, word counts, etc. I can’t wait to hear from you!

For now, I’m going to end this week’s Saturday Stories with an excerpt from the first draft of The Way We Were… that I wrote this morning. This is from the villain’s perspective:

 

“See, here’s the thing,” Collin’s steel edged voice mirrored his father’s cultured tones to perfection, his hard gaze making even veterans of The Foundation flinch away. “Everyone is flawed and self-conscious. Everyone worries. The more you care, the more easily you get stressed. Everyone,” he pushed on the word again, physically leaning into it as though testing the strength of the thing, “Everyone has a weakness to exploit. We use that and we can get in anywhere, with anyone.”

A scrawny, scruffy young man in the middle of the seated group raised his hand tentatively. Knowing enough to accept the following glower in his direction as instruction to speak, but not quite smart enough yet to keep his mouth shut anyway, the twenty-something softly starter, “What you’re talking about is…” he swallowed visibly, his adam’s apple bobbing with the strain, “Well, isn’t that a type of,” he was almost hyperventilating by this point but pushed on admirably, “emotional abuse? That can break people, sir, irrevocably.”

“Psych major,” Collin growled the half question across the stage in Peter’s direction.

Pete merely tipped his beer while inclining his head and lazily reminded his friend, “You thought one or two of them might be helpful.”

“I’m a flippin’ genius,” Collin sighed sarcastically, obviously dismissive and agitated by the truth of the matter.

“No one here to argue that point,” Pete taunted half-heartedly. “You,” he pointed the bottle in his hand at the still-standing psychologist, “It can break people if done hard enough, long enough. But most of what we do is more like a mental splinter. We needle and we agitate with small gestures and comments. We talk about how so-and-so has found such a great job or mention that 5 star restaurant we just visited, and threw left overs out from, to someone who is obviously struggling. We talk about the resort we visited last week to a friend who puts all of their travels on hold to merely survive and care for their family. No bragging involved, just softly worded side notes really, but those kind work their way in to brains and later on, instead of sleeping, he or she will be crying into the darkness. This works especially well with anxiety suffered and parents. Yes, it is mental and emotional abuse. It breaks them down, it blocks them from seeing the way to their dreams, and it keeps them right where we want them.”

 

Until Next Time….