Escape from Rochester - Camp Nano Day... DONE~

Short summary: I should remember to keep my word goals small in July Camps.

Killing off characters is hard; killing them off every 1500 words harder.

Keeping to an outline continues to be a skill.

My First-person narrative voice appears to hate the 4th wall

First Line of Wednesday:

“Considering your group?” Jamian looked around, clearly not sure what I meant.

Last Line of yesterday:

And someone else shouted “Fairies don’t feel pain.”

Current Word Count:
37809

Words Wednesday/Yesterday:
1103/399

Par:
37,800

Death Count:
10 and climbing

Tir na Cali mini-prompt-call still open; theme: space+room

Leave me a prompt on the theme of: rooms, space, accommodation, place in the Tír na Cali setting, and I will write at least 50 words on at least one of your prompts.

Private Space, a teaser drabble to @Rix_Scaedu's prompt

"This is your room."

Cedric had expected any number of things when he'd woken up to find himself kidnapped by slavers: the nudity, the chains, the collar, the cramped conditions, first at the market and then at the farm, the field labor.

Nowhere on the list had been this is your room and a sudden transition to lodgings bigger than his former dorm, and much better furnished.

August Theme!

This month's Theme options are:
1. Stranded World (Setting)
2. Reiassan (Setting)
3. Fae Apoc (Setting)
4. Love Stories (motif)
5. Gender-funkery (motif)
6. Hurt/Comfort (motif)
7. Impossible situations (motif)
8. micro-flash-fiction (type)
9. Demifiction (type)
10. Vas' World (Setting)

Want a vote?
Become a Patreon Patron at the $5 level or higher OR Donate via Paypal at least $5.


During the month, I will post at least one piece a week, probably more, on that theme. If I chose to do a Giraffe Call that month, that will be the theme of the Call. If the Patreon campaign reaches a goal level, the fiction/Q&A/Art will be chosen from that theme, too.


Progress towards first Patreon Goal:




Donations and Patreon patronage help:

• Pay for web space
  
• Buy character art from crowdfunded artists
  
• Make posting free fiction, like web-serials & microfics, a cost-viable use of time.
  
• Buy the author pretty teas

And I appreciate every cent!

Through the Door, a continuation of a story

After Gone Rummaging


If asked, I would have said I stepped through the door on a whim, on a fancy - it's a pretty door, so let's see what's on the other side.

I would have said I hadn't expected anything to happen. It's a door frame standing on its own, in the back of a garage sale in the back of an old yard.

I wouldn't exactly have been lying, although I wouldn't exactly have been telling the truth. Certainly, I picked up the silver letter opener on a similar whim as I stepped through; this could come in handy.

In handy where, why, you ask?

Why, on the other side of the Door, of course.

Doomsday Academy: First Day of School for First Years

This is set in Cynara's Doomsday Academy, several years after its founding. Ascha is a child of Magnolia, a Second Cohort Student.


"Hello, children." Ascha stepped out from Cynara's shadow and smiled at the gathered ten-year-olds and their very-nervous parents. "Hello parents. I'm Aceline Waterbridge, but you can call me Miss Ascha. I teach the First and Second Year students here at Doomsday Acedemy."

She walked down from the low stage as she spoke, letting her skirt swish against the stairs. Soothing sounds, soothing thoughts. Her brother liked to tease her that she looked like a kindergarten teacher. Ascha had decided to take the concept to heart.

"The dormitory for this year's first-year students is right this way. You'll share a building with the second- and third-year children, and, of course, with me. My assistant, Ammon Donndubhán - you can call him Mr. Ammon - lives in the building as well. You'll meet him in a few minutes." She walked down the middle aisle, smiling at the parents, smiling at the children. "It's going to be a fun year, and we're going to learn quite a bit." Calm. Reassuring. Generally, about half her students had never been inside a school before. Almost all of them had never been away from home for any length of time.

She shifted her tone, turning her words to the parents as they, not really realizing what they were doing, fell in behind her. "The students will stay in the same dorm for their first three or four years; after that, they'll move up to dorms by Mentor until their seventh or eighth year. All of the housing is monitored by an adult, and it's all well within the school walls." She pitched her voice up a bit. "You can see the Dining Hall to my left here; there are covered walkways for the summer and," she dropped her voice into a melodramatic stage whisper, "tunnels for the winter."

She turned to catch the expressions on her new students' faces and grinned. It was always the most fun when she could get them to play along.

"And here..." she continued, "this will be your new home."

New Serial by K Orion Fray!

Quest to Karantiri begins today with Chapter One - here.

Rion's new serial is set in a fantasy world, following young Celita as she learns new & exciting things about the world around her.

Clockwork Apoc Test ficlet

Because every good adventure should start in a tavern - although this is currently more fantasy/medieval than it is steampunk or apoc.

The dice rattled across the table and landed in a spray: 6, 8, 5, 3, 10, 3.

Anjzeny pushed the threes around with a desultory finger. The dice weren't being kind tonight - perhaps it was all for the better that there was no-one here to throw against.

"If your dice mislike you, perhaps you should consider cards... if you are in the mood to gamble."

He could pretend not to hear the voice, a melodic alto with a strange twist to the consonants. He could pretend to be drunk, or engrossed in his drink.

Anjzeny looked up, instead. "I am, in a general sense, in a mood to gamble."

In a pub such as the Laughing Bull, it was more likely to see a stranger than a common face; this stranger's face was both more strange and more welcome than most.

Blue eyes pinned Anjezeny to his chair; a blue scarf wrapped around the stranger's head and face, covering everything except those eyes. Blue robes concealed everything else.

Anjezeny found himself swallowing. He recovered with a lazy smile. "I am almost always in a mood to gamble."

The stranger fell gracefully into a seat. "This is what I have heard of you, yes. And so I ask you, Anjzeny Clever-Fingers: how much are you willing to bet?"