The Aspiring Bard

I must admit that I'm a thoroughly timorous novelist, and though I've let out a few dark hints about my (untitled) 'work in progress', no-one except my younger brother has read more than a few words of the thing. But when I saw that this month's Chatterbox theme was 'Travel by Foot', I realized that it would be a perfect fit for sharing a bit of my novel, since the main character spends a rather large portion of the first bit wandering about the countryside. I'm going to hold myself back from reminding you that this is a first draft and that I'm going to do a lot of re-writing and blah and blah and blah, and just go ahead and share the thing, because really, I think it's time to let someone besides my brother in on this. - Wayfarers - source I splashed water over my head and neck, then turned my attention to my aching feet, wincing as I carefully removed my boots and socks. The long days of travel in ill-fitting shoes had wreak...

Here's another snippet of prose, again written in response to The Inkpen Authoress' Chatterbox event. The theme for this month is Superstition Obviously, such a topic could get rather weird and decidedly creepy. I decided to take a more...gentle and homespun route, which seems to have sprouted effortlessly from the place where I grew up. This is a conglomerate of family story, personal memories, and imagination (of course). Maybe I'm just a tad homesick? Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Getty Images Come Sit  With Me, Darlin'     "The moonlight's like silver on the gravestones."    "Pretty, isn't it? Like bein' in a whole different sorta world."    "And so warm...spring's got here at last."    "Here, come sit with me, darlin', and tell me how you've been."    "Well, Jim brought the wife and kids over this afternoon. It was a real nice visit. I knew they were comin' this mo...

The Inkpen Authoress posted this month's Chatterbox topic.  Passing the Time And since we had a power outtage and I couldn't work on the newsletter and it was still too early to go to bed...I sat down and typed out this bit of dialogue.  Vincent van Gogh We  were not   - Born - for  Idleness      Altan pulled out a battered chair and dropped astride it with her arms folded over the back. "It's said that King Marcellenus has declared war against Helmut of Angar."    "Again?" Baatar took a long pull at his tankard and drew the back of his hand across his mouth.    "Aye, well, he is but an upstart cockerel of a king."    "Determined to make a name for himself or lose his kingdom." Baatar snorted. "And the latter seems the most likely."    Altan shrugged. "Little care I for that. But both sides will be needing warriors."    "'Tis said that their peoples are on th...

I re-discovered this blog,  The Inkpen Authoress , wherein the authoress, Rachel, hosts a monthly event called  Chatterbox . Basically, she posts a writing prompt at the beginning of each month, and anyone who feels so inclined may take her prompt and run with it. This month's prompt was Pyrotechnics , which, you might be interested to know, is defined as:  1 . a firework display. the art of making or displaying fireworks. noun:  pyrotechnics 2 . a brilliant performance or display of a specified skill. A fascinating subject, I'm sure you'd agree. I used the opportunity to explore a little bit further into some of the history and customs of a culture that I've created for a novel-in-progress. The Namir are even more enthusiastic about fire and explosions than I am, so it felt like a good fit.  source And So Let Us  Always  Burn    "My  hafeed, Nuhad, has done well by hi...