Monday, December 31, 2007
"Here's to another good year, tubby," Easter said to Santa. Santa laughed and socked him playfully on the arm.
"Gonna give up on the eggs and bring the kids something they want this year?"
Easter laughed and wiggled his long ears. He took a drink from his wine glass of carrot juice and clicked at Santa.
"Come on, let's not start this again," Groundhog said from behind them.
Santa smirked at him and flicked some sparkling dust at him. Suddenly, Groundhog's shadow swelled up twice the size it was and snarled at Groundhog. He let out a squeek and hid underneath the refreshments table.
Santa and Easter roared with laughter. "Looks like more winter," Easter laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. V-very funny, guys," they heard Groundhog squeek from under the table.
"Ladies and gentleman, holidays government and religious, please, put your hands together for the man of the hour. It's 2007!!!"
Santa and Easter turned to the big double doors and a skinny old man with a long white beard hobbled into the room. He was ancient and gnarled, and he helped himself along with a knotty old sticking, using it as a cane. Around his neck, a gold chaine with a little medallion that said "07."
Easter and Santa went forward and helped the old man down the stairs. He hadn't been around as long as them, but Years always retired early. It was just the way things were.
"How you doin', ol' timer?" Easter asked.
07 patted the rabbit's paw and smiled. "Doin' good. How're you, long ears?"
They all winced from a whistling that dug into their skulls and nested there. Easter started waggling his ears, trying to get it out. Then, smoke started to swirl around and encircle the three. Lightning flashed and Easter and Santa felt 07 begin to tremble. Wind began to blow like a hurricane, and they felt like they were standing in a tornado.
Suddenly, a loud voice bellowed a sinister laugh from nowhere and everywhere at once."Mwahahahahahaha!"
Horrible, clawed, drooling beasts, beasts that oozed and cracked, began to pop out of the smoke, screaming and licking them, gnashing their teeth and drooling, rolling their eyes wildly at them and staring at them hungrily.
"What's going on?" 07 exlcaimed.
Suddenly, they felt the wind cut off, like someone had instantly built a wall in its path. They heard the sounds of struggle and a cry of pain in the smoke. When it cleared, they saw a mountain of a man that reminded Santa of the humans' stories of Paul Bunyun. He was wearing an expensive looking tuxedo, and fierce black shades hid his eyes. He stared at the man in his arms--it looked like someone dressed up as Dracula.
"Halloween, you know the rules. No using your powers on someone else's holiday."
"Aaah, Santa did."
Easter raised an eyebrow. "I didn't see anything."
The man in the suit nodded and walked off, carrying a wimpering Halloween by his shirt collar as he left.
"Who was that," 07 asked.
Santa laughed, "You haven't met him yet, have you?"
07 shook his head.
"That's the new year, 2008," Santa said as he patted the old man's arm.
The old man laughed and shook his head as they lead him off.
"It's going to be a big year," he said.
Friday, December 28, 2007
But, since I don't make the rules, I guess I'll make up some resolutions. How about:
- I resolve not to lose my patience with my college career and go nuts and go on a city wide rampage, spray painting naughty symbols on old lady's bottoms while wearing a fake moustache.
- I resolve not to shave the neighbors cat and tape it to my face and pretend to be Santa Claus (it was itchy, and I'm allergic to cats, so it made my face break out and look like I had a strawberry for a head).
- I resolve not to wear a skin tight leotard and a pair of olympic swimmer's goggle and race through the Walmart parking lot in one of their shopping carts.
There you have it, my list of resolutions. There is one more resolution, however. I do want to write more. I have absolutetly failed at that this year, and I want to do better. So here I go again, saything that I will. Hopefully I'll stay to it this time.
How about you guys? Got any New Years Resolutions you want to share?
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
The village was in an uproar. Mothers grabbed their children and turned them away, others weeped uncontrollably. Men stood still and hard, keeping a brave front for their families, but their fears shone in their eyes like tiny suns. Some began to panic, they were unsure of what this could mean. What would cause someone to do this? It was begging to be punished by the gods.
Attanak thundered into the area on his mare, it's beautiful black mane blowing in the breeze, looking both fierce and lovely. The horse seemed to have been made from the black clouds that had been covering the village for the past few hours. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, and both accented the horror of the day.
Attanak was immediately put off by the crowd. Something felt wrong; he could feel it in the marrow of his bones. He dismounted and noticed a stray peddler walking with his hat in his hands, wringing it absentmindedly and muttering to himself as he walked. He looked half mad, but Attanak needed answers.
“You there,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual and curious. He thought he did pretty well, he thought he hid the terror that was gripping his balls pretty well. “What's happened?”
The man was very short, and his large ears pointed sideways from his head almost like tiny wings. The rain that soaked his hair poured down his head and splashed behind his ears, making it look like two tiny waterfalls were on the sides of his head. His eyes were wide with horror, so wide that his red veins were easily viewable. He bit at his lower lip while scanning with his eyes, as if searching for an answer.
“I never seen nothing like it, and I thinks I never wills again. Things is gonna start happening, guardsman. Bad things, and I isn't gonna be one to stick around for them to happen to, no sir. No sir, I isn't.” With that, he wandered off, repeating that same thing over and over again, while continuing to shake his head and wring his hat in his hands.
Attanak walk forward, terrified to see what could scare the villagers so. He heard women, housewives, whispering to each other, gossiping already, but few were doing that. Most were being held by their husbands, or they were holding their own children and consoling them.
“What could make them do such a thing?” Attanak heard on lady say. Another to his left said, “What would make them choose eternal damnation. The gods have surely forsaken them now.”
Attanak paused, his eyes closed as he took deep breaths to calm himself and hopefully loosen the vice-like grip that his fear had on his stomach.
The town looked drenched and dreadful already, and seemed to have thrown off the happy, healthy look that had been there only yesterday, on the last day of the Celebration of Waning Nights. The whole week people had been eating and drinking and playing music and dancing. Now the village had taken on a cold and deadly feel, as if whatever had happened had frightened not just the villagers, but the very trees themselves seemed to be drooped with fear. Lighting crashed again, and in the distance, a wild cat's woman-like scream sent chills through Attanak's spine.
Turn around. Just turn around, pack your things, rent the soonest ship you can, and move to an island where to the south where you can escape all this. Duty, responsibility, danger, you don't need any of those things in your life, he thought to himself, but as he thought it, he knew he was lying to himself. He parted the people before him sternly, swallowing the lump in his throat and looked.
“No...” and that's all he could say.
Attanak stared up the tall tower, the Holy Tower of Western Light, that marked where the sun set and the god of Light conceded his power to the god of Darkness. In the night's darkness and the ferocity of the storm, the turrets looked twisted and perverted, a horrid black hand clawing for the sky, like a corpse crawling its way from its grave. Attanak's heart stopped, and he felt nausea and horror course through ever vessel of his body. His legs gave way and he vomited until he was empty and continued to retch. People tried to help him, but he threw them off. They didn't understand. No one could understand what this meant, the ignorant fools. No one, save for him. He had to get the warning out. He had to spread the word.
He climbed to his feet, falling several times before enough strength returned for the task. He rushed to his horse, clambered into the saddle, and reached in his saddle bag for his wine skin. He took a deep, long draft from it before replacing it.
One of the villagers approached him, a portly man wearing a white apron. He was the butcher, Lesmiof. A once, fierce looking man, he looked like a small petrified child behind his big, bushy mustache, and rolls of fat.
“Hey, what do we do?” he called to Attanak.
Attanak turned and raised an eyebrow grimly. “What?”
“You're supposed to protect us and give us advice. What does this mean? What do we do?”
Attanak laughed coldly and the smile that he bore reminded the villagers of the grins skeletons wore. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, there was no light, no humor, no fear, nothing. Only emptiness.
“Pray,” he said, and kicked the horse into an instant gallop. It gave a startled yelp and began charging through the town as fast as Attanak could force it to go. At the edge of the town, Attanak couldn't help but look back at the horrible sight. The wind whipped and blew the bodies of the five priests who used to reside in the tower as they hung from crude, self-made nooses. Attanak wiped his rain soaked hair from his eyes, and rode off with the Tarranian Bells' Death Tolls following him out of town.
Thunder exploded again, and all knew that doom was approaching.
Pretty weird, eh?
That might be all for me for a while. I might be back on once more before Christmas, but if not, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and a absolutely great New Year.
Monday, December 17, 2007
These scenes have mostly just been practice so that I can eventually write something. I may or may not decide to post these little snippit scenes on here. I'm still thinking about it, and I'm not sure anyone would be interested in my random little scribblings as I try to get back into the swing of writing. Anyway, it's something I'll think on over the next couple of days.
Christmas time is in full swing here at the house. We got the tree up, the lights up, and all the presents wrapped and put under the tree. Now I'm just counting the days, the agonizing...waiting...until...the best...day...ever...the clock...ticking...IT'S MOCKING ME!! ...sorry... Anyway, we've been making cookies and drinking cocoa and listening to my new Christmas cd I bought, "Let It Snow, Baby, Let It Reindeer" by Relient K. Good stuff, and one of the only Christmas cd's I can find in the Alternative Rock genre.
Also, I've been reading a lot. I finished Holly Lisle's Secret Text trilogy (two words: Freakin' Awesome!) and now I'm reading Sherman Oak and the Magic Potato by S. William Shaw and The Husband by Dean Koontz. Once I'm done with those two I'll start on Vincalic the Agitator by Holly Lisle, cause the world of Matrin is just awesome, and it will keep me occupied until Hawkspar comes out.
And, because I haven't scared you guys with enough odd ramblings yet, I've been watching an anime called Death Note. It's absolutely fantastic. It's about a boy who finds a Death Note, which is what Shinigami (japanese "death gods") use to kill humans. Because he found it, it now belongs to him, but he also gets to basically keep the Shinigami who originally owned it, as a pet...sorta. Anyway, the boy, Light, decides to kill all the evil people of the world and create a perfect world where he will rule as a god, while evading a detective aliased L who is just as smart and freaky as Light. It's a very exciting and intriguing series, and it makes you ask yourself, if you had the ability to kill anyone you wanted just by writing it down in a book would you? If you did, who would you kill and why? Very dark, but very interesting.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The biggest bummer so far has been that I didn't get to leave today, when all my friends did. I'm the only one left, stuck in my dorm all by myself with nothing to do. I already have most everything unhooked--except the Internet, let's not get stupid--so there's not much to do. It's actually really interesting being alone. I learned that when I'm not being distracted by hussle and bussle, I will do almost anything to avoid being bored.
The really cool thing is, when I'm alone, I start going over character ideas, story ideas, and other stuff like that. I think tonight, for the first time in a long time, I'm gonna sit down and plan out a short story. Nothing long, something I know that I can finish, but something that will get me writing again. It feels great. Just considering writing again makes my heart feel all fluttery and excited; it's like when you're hungry, but you don't know it until you take a bite of something good. You're instantly ravenous. Well, just the prospect of playing with a few short story ideas that I haven't thought about or started yet because I was working on this or that is making my muse's mouth water, and I like it. She's ready to talk, and I'm ready to listen.
I think one of my problems has been that I've been so concerned with doing things in one way or another, so careful to watch out for mistakes that beginners make and stuff, and approaching writing so business like and organized that my muse was instantly turned off. She's been rejecting me like a bad date who keeps calling and talking about "the connection that the two of us share." I took all the fun out of writing, and I didn't realize it until just now.
Well, that's really all. The next time you hear from me, I'll be home for the holidays. Happy Holidays to you all.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
On the plus side, I read a lot before I had to get sucked into the finals studying frenzy. Right now I’m almost halfway through with the final book in Holly Lisle’s Secret Text trilogy. They’re absolutely fantastic! Very rarely do I read a book with so much depth and originality, but Holly Lisle does it every single time. I have a whole bunch of her books that are on my “To be read when things return to a safe level of insanity” shelf, and I can’t wait to get started on them. If you can find them, and you get the chance, I definitely recommend Holly’s Secret Text trilogy.
Also, I’m reading Sherman Oak and the Magic Potato, by S. William Shaw. They’re kids novels, but Shaw has a great, quirky way of telling the story that I absolutely love. The story itself is very original, and Shaw proves just how crazy he is with the different wacky monsters that Sherman meets in his quest. This is another one that I recommend if you want a good read. Definitely pick this up for your kids, parents. It’s totally worth it (you might even want to read it yourself).
Well, I’m going back to the grindstone. Three more finals and I’ll be out of school for a month! Then comes Christmas!! Before too long I hope to have some writing news to give you, but as many of you know, a bug at all my stories, and all my notes, and I haven’t had time to get anything back with College poking its nose in my business all the time. Well, wish me luck, and for those of you who are going on trips for the holidays, good luck, and travel safely.
Friday, December 7, 2007
So, what's going on in the Blogosphere?
PBW has a link to a free download of a story she wrote once.
S William Shaw has a contest to get free books for Christmas. Definitely check it out, he's a great writer.
S. M. Duke makes a really interesting point on criticism on religion and on anything in general.
So, that's all I have right now. Tomorrow I'm going to see The Golden Compass, and then celebrate with my friend. It's his birthday. Have a good weekend, all.