When Friends help you Punish your Characters

Prompt: Feature a couple of your writing friends! How do you inspire each other?

I thought I would focus on some people that have shaped my writing. Karlimir Stonewain was a user I conversed with way back on lotrfanfiction.net. They were an older writer, already retired, and I was just starting out. They edited my chapters occasionally and always left encouraging reviews. To this day I will always have this person to look back on as an example of how to encourage and support others online.

Then there is my real life friend with whom I have tried to write many stories. Although none of these have ever made it very far, she Is the one I turn to when I can't figure out where my plot is going, what things should be called, or if I need to rant about a book I read. Someday we will finish that story of ours.

Currently, I am part of a wonderful group of writers on tumblr who edit each other's work and promote each other's stories. They fill me with ideas, help me when I struggle to write in a new way, and always put a smile on my face. It is so hard to pick only a few, but the ones who are inspiring me most at the moment are Opal, Cas, Gwyllion, and Ven.

This last one has truly grown into a unique friendship. I offered to beta a story of hers, then she beta'd one of mine, and back and forth for nearly a year now. She is also the only reason my NaNoWriMo story ever got written this year and the reason it even makes sense. I love our brainstorming sessions together and the little shout outs and inside jokes we now throw in our stories for the other. This wonderful person goes by Requiem

The writing from this week is, well, not my favourite, but it is a current struggle. I am on the third draft of this and writing torture is hard. Any constructive criticism would be helpful.

Favourite writing from this week: 

She watched him pour the petrol in an increasing spiral around the room. She noticed that it was not a steady stream, it splashed a bit. Maybe that would slow down the advance of fire when they did light it. Either way, it didn’t look good for her.
Logically she knew it hadn’t been long since she sent the distress signal through her tracker. Assuming the signal made it to headquarters, they still had to identify an agent who was free, contact them, and narrow down her location. London was a big city and so wherever she was, it would take time for them to get to her.
And what could she do in the meantime? She wasn’t going to hack this for them. Did they plan on waiting here and staring at her while she stared back? She shivered. She hoped not. Already being bound to the chair in front of these men was sending her mind into spirals of dark what-if scenarios she was desperately trying to block out.
Adding the threat of fire was only adding another nightmare scenario for her brain to play with and twist. She never wanted to know what is was like to die a martyr, but now she may know what it felt like. Even if her name was never known to the outside world. All they would find were her charred remains in front of a computer. She died as she lived, she could imagine her friends saying. All her life spent in front of a computer, fighting for good, and now she would die having refused to lay a finger on the keyboard.
“I will give you one last time to accept our offer on your own terms,” Rob said when the man was finished pouring the petrol. “Will you wipe his identity for us?”
R lifted her chin high and clenched her fists in defiance. “No.” If she was going to die terrified, she would die terrified on her own terms, sticking by her own morals.
“Very well then.” Rob pulled a disposable lighter out of his pocket and lit it. Holding it up dramatically, he waited for her to suddenly change her mind, but R was decided. Without looking away from her, Rob dropped the lighter onto the line of gas.

Spark of Inspiration

Prompt: A character opens someone else's desk drawer. What do they find?

Remember how last week I said that I was so busy and didn't have time to write? Well I read this prompt and the story sprung to mind and I had it written by that evening. Turns out sometimes a perfect prompt forces you to make time to write, even if it is writing on your phone while on the bus. Below is a snippet from that story.

I also decided to do Camp Nano which I have never done before. I set my loose goal at 60 hours of writing time for this month. For me, I am expanding this to include not just story writing time, but also paper writing time (since I have a lot of that to do in April), and editing time.

Yes, I was finally able to write "the end" on my nanowrimo story and now I have it printed out, ready to be edited in pen. It's exciting.

Favourite writing from this week: 

Report compiled by: Alex Turner
No. Surely not. But then, why wouldn't they? Bond had faked his own death before. He let the ruse continue for quite some time as well.
Returning the documents and closing the compartment, the agent blindly perused the storage shelves as he thought.
Bond had thought Alex died over a year ago. Bond had thought that Q couldn't keep secrets. Bond had thought smart blood was nothing more than a tracking system that could monitor his vitals. Bond had thought he knew Q.

Now he wasn't sure what he knew.

In Which Homework is Horrible

Prompt: Pick a tweet from a friend and find a way to incorporate all words into your scene

Long story short, Not much writing happened this week. If you follow me on other social media you will know that I was on an observing trip and thus spent a lot of time taking data with a big telescope. As a result of that, I came back to reality and was swamped with homework. So although I have a great tweet from a friend that I really want to work with, here is a short snippet from what I worked on while taking ten minute exposures of galaxies. (And I'll include a picture of a galaxy at the end)

Favourite writing from this week: 

“Copper I can do.”

“Do what?” Nadir asked.

“Just watch.” Spades pushed back her sleeves and pressed a hand against the wall. She was motionless for a few seconds before shaking her head. She then reached into her pouch and pulled out a couple seeds which she then pressed into the wall. Now as she concentrated her powers, vines began to grow and spread along the wall.

The others watched in amazement as the vines crawled along the wall, to the ceiling, and over the canyon. Some branches even grew grapes. But then it reached the broken wire on the other side and grabbed hold.

Spades pulled her hand away. She took a deep breath, recentering herself, and then grabbed the vine with both hands. The green faded to black and then toward metallic as the plant became copper, shining faintly in the ambient light.

Snapshot of the Stars

Prompt: Write a scene inspired by something a character cannot see

I'm on a mountain observing this week, so I have been mainly editing instead of writing. Have a short snapshot written at nearly midnight.

Favourite writing from this week: 

She stood in the dome, forearms rested on the ledge. The glow from the setting star was fading from the sky, the colours a gentle gradient. The wind was picking up, she shivered, but it was keeping the clouds away. She turned from the sky to admire the instrument behind her. The large mirror of the telescope was nearly fifty metres across,
It was hers now. Not exclusively, but she was in charge of what it was used for, and who used it. It also meant she could come up here whenever the mood struck. And it struck often.
How could it not when surrounded by the stars? She may not be able to see the distant galaxies without the aid of the telescope, but even knowing it was there ignited a spark of inspiration.
Maybe it wasn't the same as boldly going, but seeing all those different worlds was almost as exciting Someday they would hear back form the explorers out there. Someday they would know what it was like to play ping pong on Catullia.
But today, tonight, she would know what distant galaxies looked like ten billion years ago, she would know their star population. The work she did tonight may even one day help unlock the even less tangible mysteries of the universe. It wasn't a bad career.

One, Two, Three Slaps

Prompt: Use numbers in an interesting way.

The prompt didn't exactly get fulfilled, but it got me to finally get this chapter out of my head and on to the page. I had tried to avoid writing a torture scene in this short story since I am not good at writing that, but when I skipped it my beta editor kept getting really confused by what I had envisioned. And so with some numbers in there, I got the chapter written. What follows is a snapshot of the chapter.

Favourite writing from this week: 

While he spoke, R took the opportunity to discretely tap the side of her foot three times. They didn't seem to know who she worked for, so she assumed they hadn't disabled her tracker. Perhaps if she kept them talking, her rescuers would find her before anything happened to her.
“And so, as he built his company in the wake of our humiliation, we vowed to seek revenge forever more.”
It seemed it wouldn't be too hard to keep them talking.
“We waited patiently, growing our new business from the ashes of the old. And like a phoenix we have been reborn. Now is our time to seek glorious payback. And from his success, his downfall will be so much sweeter.” The man smiled, staring off into the distance, perhaps seeing a chorus of angels singing his praises.
“Let's get to the plan, Rob,” the second man interrupted the daydream.
“Of course.” He shook his head quickly, as if to shake off the fantasy. “It's quite simple really. We need you to wipe Jerome Cardinal’s identity from the Internet.”
R blinked.
“Well, did you hear me?”
“Yes, I heard you. Sorry, I don't think you realise how difficult that will be.” R was tempted to laugh. Even Q would find it difficult. “Bank statements and credit cards, those are hard, but I can manage. But a person’s entire identity? You know the government has copies of birth certificates, right? Not to mention driver’s licenses, marriage certificates, university enroll--”

“That's enough!”

For want of a TARDIS

Prompt: Take an author photo and write yourself a bio.

It was going to be more serious, but this week has been too serious by far. So here is the fun.




















Jennifer is on her way to becoming a professional astronomer who can make you call her Doctor even though she lacks a blue box that travels in time and space. If she had one, she might have more time to do her homework while writing, making youtube videos, and sleeping.

She also enjoys baking to forget about deadlines, swimming to forget deadlines, and pretending to be a fantasy warrior queen despite only having four crowns (okay, maybe that is more than normal) and being terrible at archery.

Favourite writing from this week: 

Stealthily, they stole down the hallway, passing a few different doors to large storage rooms. Listening to the minion in his ear, Q kept walking and lead them up to the top floor, where there was a guard. It was also another clue that this was not a professional group.

The man was dressed in business casual, leaning back in his chair, and watching something on his phone with one earbud in. Q and Casper exchanged raised eyebrows before the former shot a dart into the man’s neck. He barely had time to register surprise before losing his balance and toppling backwards. Q winced as the phone shattered on the concrete. Although, he glanced down as they walked past, serves him right for not having a case on an iphone. The door he had been in front of was the one they wanted. Even if the GPS hadn’t told them, the faint light coming from under the door indicated that something was going on inside.

Glaring at the Moon

Prompt: A character realizes something as they look up at the night sky.

I completely thought that this prompt would be applied to my nanowrimo story. They are approaching a time limit that is marked by a sunset. However, apparently that story did not want to be written this weekend. So this morning I tried to fit it into my other new story. (If you are counting, that is three that are currently in progress.)

Somehow that turned into a plot point that seems like it will add two chapters to the story I thought would only have one chapter. Well, you can't deny the muses when they want something. And so below is the night sky and the turning point of this story.

Favourite writing from this week: 

His branch could alter nearly every digital record, but they could not add people into every yearbook in print and if one looked close enough, discrepancies could be found.
Although the hackers had not determined true identities of the agents, a correct guess had been made to connect them to MI6 and they put phase two of their plan into action. So while Scotland Yard prosecuted the ones who had been in the bank for robbery and arson, Q tasked a group to trace the hackers in the digital world
They were found surprisingly fast. Q called back the agents and told his staff to go home. R volunteered to accompany the police when they collected the hackers to pick up their equipment. Even Q went home then.
The night was warm and clear so he took the opportunity to take a late night stroll in the local park. Under the crescent moon, he could feel his muscles relax, the tension fade away.
Only then he felt his phone vibrate. He would have ignored it if it wasn’t morse code for SOS. Well shit. He pulled up the alert. It came from R. He glared up at the night sky, daring it to tell him it was not as he feared.