Another Writing Schedule!

I Have Decided!

Good morning (for those of us who are enduring a Monday Morning) dear readers (you)!

In summary of last week and my findings, I really enjoyed it. The writing exercises were great, some of the writing was fairly decent for what it was and overall it was an enjoyable experience.

Unfortunately though, I did absolute ZILCH writing on my actual book. Which leaves me fairly melancholy, considering I would actually like to publish it someday, but it needs to be written first *GASP*!

So in light of this, Ice decided that I will attempt to do a writing week every month, starting from the first Monday of that month. The schedule will come out before the week begins and may vary from week to week, but the overarching goal will remain: WRITE GOOD STUFF.

So there we go! I hope you enjoyed the week as much or more than I did.

Schedule is open to suggestions for those interested too, so if you want something written about lemme know.

Lets finish with a question for my fellow writers: under what conditions do you get most of your writing done?

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Sojourn Saturday #1 – The Woods

Happy Sojourn Saturday!

Here’s the final short story before tomorrow’s compilation

The Woods

“The howling is unsettling.” I mutter to myself. I would have discussed this with my companion, if they were still alive. “Probably just the wind… I hope it’s just the wind.”
Oaks and pines swayed un-rhythmically, unsure of which direction the wind wanted them to lean. Odd scents carried by the air mingled into a rotten musk, mostly wet wood and fermenting fruit.
“The path is coming up. I’m sure this time.” The truth was I’d lost the path days ago, my companion had lost his life because of it. No time for guilt. I’ll mourn when I’m safe.
Moss-covered roots obscured my journey, high and thick they walled in my strength. I’d dropped my pack on the second day, we’d eaten too quickly, and since then I’d only eaten the odd berry that didn’t look too poisonous.
Where am I going again? I wondered. “Out of this cursed wood!” I yelled, trying to conjure up some courage.
Something responded. A deep lonely call. Not as shrill as a wolf, more like a groaning. Could be a bear… Or worse.
I picked up the pace.
I stumbled on a root, or maybe it hit me, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t care. I needed to run.
The groan came again. Closer than before.
And ran faster, my foot struck something.
I grit my teeth and push myself off the ground, I wasn’t dying here.
Mid-leap I heard a whistle, something hit and sharp had hit me in the base of the skull. I reached behind me to check for blood, I pulled out a dart.
A dart?
I went dark.

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Fantasy Friday #1 – Dryad

Woot! Happy Fantasy Friday!

So back to my preferred style of writing: Story telling. Not that I don’t enjoy coming up with theories, themes and so on, but I feel as if they belong in a notebook, not on a Blog.

The following is actually an excerpt from the story I’m writing at the moment, so context may be lacking here, but I don’t think that it affects this scene too much (it was more of an inspired scene from the imagination gods if you know what I mean).

And so, dear reader, enjoy. Comments and feedback apriciated.

Dryad

“Maolyn the Great! Closer of the inter-dimensional Rift between Arion and Pyre! A king among mages! A god among mortals!” Renatus exclaimed without any tones of excitement. “I am his son, Renatus the Failure!” he kicked at a stone and sent it spiralling into a tree, embedding it into the bark. He walked over to the tree. It was a proudsman tree. They grew straight up, their roots dived straight down, but their trunks were too soft for building. Flowers the size of a trolls head were open above, despite the fact that it was night time.
Renatus bent down and pulled the stone from the bark, “Sorry.” he mumbled.
Sap filled the hole as soon as the stone was removed, bleeding out of the trunk and onto the mulch bellow. The speed of the sap surprised Renatus, he only realised something was wrong when the sap sprung at his eyes like needles. He brought up his hand in front of his face to shield himself, a series of pangs jolted his arm as shards embedded themselves in his arm.
“I said sorry!” Renatus gritted his teeth. Bloody Dryads.
A face formed from the knots in the bark, holes sinking into dark pits. “That was painful, Mortal.” The voice was shill and almost musical. Renatus guested it was female.
“As was that attack of yours!” Renatus tried to compose himself. Dryads were known to hold grudges, and to spread rumours throughout an entire forest in a single night. The last thing Renatus needed was the forest to hate him.
“An attack on a sleeping Dryad is considered cowardice, mortal. And cowardice is considered undesirable. If I were to decide you were undesirable, you would die, mortal.”
Renatus knelt on one knee, “Forgive me, Dryad of the proudsman tree, it was my clumsiness that awoke you, not an attack I assure you.”
The Dryad seemed to study him, assessing his words, reading his expressions. “A deal then.”
“What?”
“A deal.” the Dryad repeated dryly. “I will forget that you harmed me, and you shall give me something.”
Renatus considered his options. Be hated by all nature, or make a deal with a Dryad. “First tell me what you want, then I’ll decide.”
“A drop of your blood.”
Renatus grunted, “You could take blood from my corpse, why would you ask for a mere drop?”
“Sap and blood, nature and mortal, life tied to life, anew is born. Such must be consented of both Dryad and Mankind.”
Renatus scratched his head, unsure of what the Dryad’s riddle meant. But if it meant escaping this ordeal, he would give a drop of blood freely. “Alright Dryad, it’s a deal.”
The knotted face soothed some, becoming a softer, female expression. Her face was angular, sharp cheek bones and jaw line. Her nose a small lump in the middle of her face and what was before gnarled teeth, were now a gentle crease in the bark, imitating lips.
“My name is Lunair, Dryad of a proudsman tree.” Lunair’s voice had lost it’s harshness, the sentence sounding lyrical. “What are you called?”
“Renatus, Son of Maolyn.” he answered, unsure of why such a thing was necessary.
The proudsman tree’s branches swayed with excitement, “Renatus Maolynsson, do you give of your blood willingly to me?”
Renatus shrugged, stepping forward with his already bloodied arm, still with needle-like sap sticking out. “Sure.”
And with a giddy laugh, the sap pulled itself out of Renatus’s arm, carrying back more than a little blood. It leapt from his arm back into the hole that had been created, which scabbed over with sap instantly.
“Our deal pleases me.” Lunair smiled a beautiful, deadly smile. “Return here when I call you Renatus Maolynsson, and do not keep me waiting.” With that, the face disappeared, and Renatus felt like he could breathe again. He arm had numbed, and his mind can clouded over.
“And now to bed.” he mumbled, before collapsing once again. His energy was sapped.
Perhaps I’ve lost too much blood today. he mused as he let the darkness of sleep envelop him.


Stay tuned and until next time, Anti-Greetings
D. Rhys Graham

Theory Thursday #1 – Gravity¿ An unseen law

Good morning and a pleasant Theory Thursday to you!

As you may have guessed, today I shall write about a theory I’ve come up with. Now this theory is obviously being written by an aspiring fantasy/paranormal author. In light of this – suffice to say it won’t be boring.

This was actually a theme for a book that I was going to write (called Unseen Laws) until I figured out that books need more than an interesting theme running through it to be good (or even written for that matter).

And now I will attempt to kill physics! Wish me luck, and enjoy.

Gravity¿ an unseen law

What is gravity? The definition of the word is:
physics the force that attracts a body towards the centre of the earth, or towards any other physical body having mass.

My theory, is that this force called gravity is in fact unseen chains fastened to every physical body. The other end of these chains are tied to other objects, called anchors.

On Earth, the anchor is the earths core. It’s large enough to anchor every chain tied to every person and object.

In the solar systems, this plays out on a larger scale, having moon and asteroids tethered to their respective planets, and planets to stars.

In theory, one could loose themselves of these chains or even free themselves of them – albeit for a short time. These chains are in fact necessary, lest we should drift from our world and brave the dark expanse of space beyond. In view of this necessity, we can assume that if we rid ourself from of chains, new ones would seek us out.

One might adjust the positioning if their unseen chains from the soles of their feet to around their fists, and so packing a punch with the fierce force of nature behind it.

If one could somehow have mastery over these chains, they could rule the entire planet – and more. Everyone and everything with mass would become pawns to be moved to that person. They could hold the world hostage and have everything they seek.

A more selfless being could use the gift to contribute to the worlds grow and development.

It could also bring about some really awesome gravity altering fight scenes… I love writing fight scenes.


Work on breaking those chains
Until next time, Anti-Greetings
D. Rhys Graham

World Altering Wednesday #1 – No Death

Happy World Altering Wednesday!

I realised as I was writing this that it’s similar to Theory Thursday in that by changing something about the world, you create a new theory and challenge all existing rules in the world.

Also it isn’t a short story as much as a brainstorm think session, but it still achieves my goal of growing my writing skills, so I hope that’s acceptable to you dear reader.

So here it is, as always enjoy and feedback/ comments are appreciated.

No Death

What if there was no death? If every living creature could not and would not die?

The reader’s first thought could be one of hope, they could think of those they have lost and imagined what it would be like never to have lost them and that they would never loose anyone else ever again.

But if we think deeper into the reason for death, we will discover that life is richer because of death. Death increases the quality of life, we treasure it more when we realise that it is limited.

Multiple aspects of reality would be altered, and I will attempt to write upon some of those aspects:

Food: If there is no death, there is no meat. No beef, no chicken, no turkey, no fish and heaven forbid NO BACON! If no creature could die, we would not be able to enjoy these meats (for those of us that eat meat). But if there was no death, one could argue that we wouldn’t need to eat at all. We would eat simply for enjoyments sake, not for survival or energy.

Population: If there was no death, and assuming that life continued and reproduction continued as normal, we would be over populated in no time. If we consider that this is already a problem in some places and in those countries often large ‘slums’ are formed, how long would it take before the whole world becomes like that? How much of our limited materials could we use to house and accommodate our unlimited population?

Animals: And that doesn’t just go for humans. Animals would continue to populate the earth, competing for room on our planet. Now predators and carnivores wouldn’t need to kill to eat anymore, in fact they wouldn’t need to eat at all, and unlike humans, they don’t eat for pleasure but rather to survive. They may still be dangerous to us in the respect that claws and fangs would still cause us pain and damage without being lethal.

Economy: Now I’m no economist, but I’m pretty sure that taking away products and services that we require to survive will effect our economic system. The money system itself may even need to be rethought to accommodate for the surplus in population.

Motivation: The will to live and to leave a mark on the world that will last longer than a single lifetime is what has caused many to strive for excellence and achievement. Take away the fact that would will cease to exist in the plane of reality and you will take away the motivation of the masses. Some brilliant minds may take longevity as the perfect tool to accomplish massive projects, but how long will they be inspired for?

And to conclude and summarise, quality of life would be lesser if we could live forever, hence: the need for death.


Stay Tuned for Theory Thursday, hopefully posted before the day is out 🙂
Anti-Greetings
D. Rhys Graham

Tantamount Tuesday #1 – Settlers and Slaughter

Good evening! And a good Tantamount Tuesday to you!

I will start by giving a/my definition of tantamount: the same as, equivalent in value to.

Some of this story required some research, hence the later post (that and my full time job), but hopefully the details will make the story more believable (even though I found the information fairly shocking).

Also, the way this is written has been an idea of mine for a while, but there is far too much work involved to make it a full sized novel, so this was the perfect excuse to try it! Enjoy.

Settlers and Slaughter

1861
The dry wind blew at John Chivington’s back. He stood on a rocky over-look above a lush plain. Bison grazed as herds below, fat from the plentiful nutrients in the soil.
We need this land. John thought, It’s plentiful, bountiful and it will make us rich.

2861
Vasseth gripped the onyx armrest of his command station. He was at the head of his battleship, surveying the green and blue planet they were orbiting.
“The Emperor informed me of the minerals here.” Jassid, his general hissed. His reptilian tongue tracing the fangs protruding from his jaw. “And the liquid.”
“Indeed.” Vasseth replied dryly.
“This conquest will bring you much glory, my prince.”
“Indeed.”

1861
“Colonel!” I have… a message… from John Evans.” A slim man barely in his twenties bent over to catch his breath.
“Out with it boy.” John downed a mouthful of whiskey. He found the rest of his troop to be gathering around to listen in.
“Everything is in place.” The messenger straightened, seeming to have recovered, “The treaty was successful, and Black Kettle along with his followers have moved to camp near Fort Lyon to hunt and settle.”
“And?” John’s wrinkled face twisted into a grin.
“And to continue as planned, imeidately.”

2861
“My prince!”
Vasseth stood and turned to face the kneeling communications officer, “Report.”
“The Emperor wishes to speak with you.”
“Do not keep my father waiting, bring him up.” Vasseth snapped. His anticipation had taken hold of him, as well as his Varrillian bloodlust.
Blue crystal shards hovered in the space before Vasseth, shifting and grinding against each other until the formed the familiar, scaled face of Emperor Furrian. “Vasseth.”
“Glory to Varrillia!” Vasseth knelt before his father, grinding his fangs as he bowed his head.
“Rise my son, this is a glorious day for you.”
A test. “It is a glorious day for Varrillia and for my emporer.”
“Indeed.” Furrian bore his fangs and hissed to remind his son he was still his superior.
Vasseth remained kneeling, Furrian could wait. “What are my orders?”
“Anihilate.”

1861
John lead his troop casually to the Cheyenne camp. They had a peace treaty, and they maintained a trading relationship. There was no need to expect violance.
Once the troop were in the middle of the camp, John nodded to his lieutenant. He and a third of the group wove their way through the camp to the perimentre.
“Why are you here?” A tattooed and bare chested elder stood before John.
“I want to speak with Black Kettle, he and you with him have breached the treaty. he responded.
“You invade our land, but we make peace with you. There is no problem.” The elder gripped his staff, his knuckles whitening.
“Where is Black Kettle?”
“The Chieftain hunts.”
John looked around at the camp, other Cheyenne’s had gathered to watch events play out. More than half of them were women and children. His troop were all gripping their rifles, ready.
“That’s a shame.” And with that John pushed the bayonet of his rifle through the elders gut and pulled the trigger, the bullet ripping through what was left of the mans flesh, out through his back and lodged itself in a man behind him. He ripped his gun free and began to reload. “Kill the savages!”

2861
Vasseth stood, the communication with his father terminated, crystal shards falling to the floor. “Open a link to the planet.”
“It is done.”
An image on a flat screen replaced Vasseth’s view of the planet below.
“Greetings on behalf of Earth, may we humans be the first to extend a hand of friendship.” The soft creatures looked frail, light skin that was not scaled like a Varrillian’s, closer to the texture of Asteroid Worm.
Vasseth attempted to mimic the shape the humans were making with their mouths and round fangs. By the reaction of the humans, he didn’t do very well. “I am Vasseth, of the Varrillians. I will accept your hand of friendship when you weapons are disabled.” This worried the humans. Especially the one in green. Military.
“Surely you don’t expect us to do that!” he exclaimed.
“Surely,” Vasseth hissed, “You realise that you have ended this peace talk.”
“Forgive my friend, it was a missunderstanding!” The central human stood up abruptly.
“That was foolish.” Vasseth turned to his general, “Fire the charged plasma cannon.” he grunted in response.
The decorated man in green glowered, his skin turning crimson, “Fire the warheads!”

1861
At the sound of the fired shot, all hell broke loose. Rifles and pistols joined the chorus, knives were pulled and blood was spilt. The troops at the edges of the camp ensured no one escaped, while the rest killed every savage in the camp.
By the time silence settled over the camp, 148 of Black Kettle’s followers had been slaughtered, only nine of Johns troop had been killed.
John walked through the bloody carnage, drinking from his flask of whiskey to numb to guilt creeping up his gut.
His lieutenant approached him, “What are our orders sir?”
John wiped the blood from his knife, “Cut up the bodies, set the whole camp alight.”

2861
The charged plasma beams tore through the earth, each ship of the Varrillian fleet firing at key locations on the planet; ensuring the ripples of destruction would travel through every electrical and liquid body on the planet.
There wasn’t a single creature or even piece of technology that would survive.
“Damage report!”
“The humans destroyed a scout ship with their warheads, nine Varrillians were on board.”
“Send the news to their spawn, they have brought glory to their bloodline.”
“Yes my prince.”
“Scan for life.” Vasseth knew what the results would be, but procedure required it of him. “We have minerals to harvest.”

—–

Wow one minute to midnight when I finished this! Technically still Tuesday!
Thanks for reading, feedback welcome, I’m going to bed.

Until next time, Anti-Greetings!
-D. Rhys Graham

Weekly Schedule!

Alright! So in addition to the previously stated goals of this blog, I’m going to try something: a creative writing schedule.

My aim is to stretch the limits of my creativity every day by writing in different styles on different topics. Nothing too serious, just something that will get the creative juices circulating my often writers-blocked neural system.

So here’s the plan for this week starting Monday the 4th of August (we’ll see if I make it through one week to start with, and perhaps we’ll continue with enough persuasion from my readers).

Miscellaneous Monday : on which I shall write of something obscure or random.

Tantamount Tuesday: on which I shall write of parallels.

Word Altering Wednesday: on which I shall write of the world being altered in some way and how reality as we know it would be disturbed.

Theory Thursday: on which I shall write (and propose) a theory.

Fantasy Friday: on which I shall share something fantasy related and write a little about it.

Sojourn Saturday: on which I shall write about a journey of some kind.

Summary Sunday: on which I shall attempt to coagulate the weeks diverse writing into a somewhat comprehendible paragraph.

So that’s it! Wish me luck, I hope you enjoy what is to come.
Until next time, Anti-greetings


D. Rhys Graham

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