SS from October and December

October

from "Used to You" (Jenn Weber)

Icy wind tore at Lacey's face and fingers but the sun on her back was warm and the smoothness of the ice beneath her skates was like glass. She tucked her arms behind her back and leaned into the wind. It carried the scent of pine in its bite. Thirty-seven days until Christmas. Laughter from the far side of the pond echoed just above the sharp swish of her skates. Thirty-three days until Jake's visit for the holidays. Missing him threatened to steal away her joy of the first skate of the season.

Stretching she let herself slow slightly before pulling down into a spin. Then jumped into another...and another and another until she was too dizzy to skate straight but the ache in her happiness remained. It would be better if he was here.

"Lacey!" Her sister Dana called between giggles, "We need another hand here."

Dana was skating backwards and supporting their cousin Becca who didn't know how to skate. The pair wobbled over the ice. Soaking wet patches on their jeans testified to a number of spills.

Lacey waited for them. "You're looking really good, Becca."

"Ha, funny." Becca grabbed hold of Lacey's arm, "I don't know how I let you talk me into this. It's so cold and the hot chocolate is gone and the ice will probably melt any moment, we're gonna die."

"A horrible chocolate-less drowning death!" Dana said with mock severity.

Both girls laughed but Becca didn't loosen her white knuckled grip on Lacey's arm.

"We're not going to die." Lacey shifted so that she could balance her cousin better. "Keep your eyes up and bend your knees a little."

With encouragement, Becca relaxed and gradually gained the confidence to take a few strides on her own.

"Say!" Dana said in an exaggerated theatrical tone, "I wonder who that could be?"

Lacey looked to where her sister pointed and froze.

Jake was skating toward them. Curly hair whipped back. Ridiculous grin on his face.

She couldn't move, could hardly breathe, but her heart leapt the distance between them a moment before he caught her in his arms and swung her in a wild circle.

Warmth and old spice and sweet brown eyes. This is real.

"Surprise," he said.

Something soft and red landed on Lacey's nose. She turned and Becca snapped a picture as Dana tore open another bag of rose petals. "What-?"

Jake dropped to one knee. One hand still squeezed hers as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar little box. "Lacey Marie, I love you and I will love you forever. Will you marry me?"

December

from "I'll Wait" (Pursuits DTS)

Once upon a happening, I walked in the strange ways and lingered at doorways to places unknown.

I don’t know when that changed. I haven’t grown old. My skin is still as smooth and soft as an infant’s. No grey streaks my hair. My arms and legs are strong as they ever were.

But my mind has dimmed. I can’t remember the last time I felt curious or afraid or awestruck.The colours that used to be vibrant are garish. Music is only noise to me.

Is there a way back? May I return to what I once knew? Can I?

I lay my guitar in my lap and rest my hands on the strings.

I’ll wait.

SS - Vanishing

Vanishing

from "Forth Eorlingas" (Howard Shore) and "Watch You Crawl" (Red)

Wind and weather
Moss on trees
Swift falls the sun
Red on the leaves

It was summer in Doenfell but not a soul was present to see it. Water splashed in marble fountains. Flowers bloomed from every pathway and windowtrim. Fruit ripened on every tree. But no one delighted in the beauty and abundance. The proud houses, all glass and stone, were bereft of inhabitants.

SS - King of Air and Fire

King of Air and Fire

from "He" (Jars of Clay) and "Open Heaven" (BarlowGirl)

Footsteps intruded on Josh’s daydream. He rolled over and peered between boxes. Dust went up his nose and he had to squelch the urge to sneeze. Hairy feet appeared just an arm’s reach in front of him.

“Joshua Thomas,” The feet turned on the spot as his dad looked around for him, “where are you?”

Josh held his breath. If he was quiet enough maybe he wouldn’t be found. He could go back to being King of Air and Fire and not worry about whatever serious lesson his dad wanted to teach him.

Downstairs a door opened and a bunch of people came in, speaking in hushed voices. Josh grimaced. The only thing worse than a lesson was a Meeting. But he couldn’t hold his breath any longer. He let it out slowly but forgot about the evil dust bunnies during the breath in. He sneezed. His dad’s feet had reached the doorway. They stopped at the explosion of sound. Josh dropped his head against the ground. He was done for now.

But his dad didn’t say anything. The footsteps started again but moved away, out the door and down the stairs. Josh couldn’t believe his luck. He turned back over and fingered the glow-in-the-dark pictures stuck in the under-frame of his cot: the Queen of Wind and Rain, Prince of Seas, Lady of Stone and, his favourite, the King of Air and Fire. Masters of the world, nothing scared them, not even the Dread Captain of Thunder from Issue 53.

“Jo, what are you doing under the bed again?”

The voice startled Josh so bad he smacked his head on the wire under-frame. Silver stars danced in his vision. One of the boxes by his head was pulled away. He scooted sideways to avoid a kick to his already aching head as a scrawny girl shimmied feet first under the cot to join him.

“Ho, Lacey.”

“Ho yourself. What are you doing?”

Her breath smelled like cinnamon hearts and broccoli but Josh was already pressed up against the wall and couldn’t move farther away. He breathed through his mouth. “Nothing.”

“Well, why don’t we go do nothing somewhere less dark, crowded and dusty then?”

“I don’t want to go to Meeting.”

Even in the dark, Lacey’s eyes twinkled. “Who said anything about Meeting? I have a better idea.” She crawled back out and Josh followed semi-reluctantly. Lacey was more fun than a barrel of bears but her ideas usually led to trouble.

SS - Over the Edge

Over the Edge 

from "Salterlo" (Claudia Gomez) and "Bounce" (TFK)

Should I jump?


I curl my toes over the edge of the precipice. The throbbing roar from below vibrates over my skin and forces my heartbeat into a frantic rhythm.

“Better choose quick.” Sara says. Her hand squeezes mine and then she is gone, wild red hair and ripped jeans vanishing over the brink. I don’t watch her fall. For just a moment, I hate her and want her to be fatally wrong. But white heat is searing the back of my shoulders and sirens are becoming audible again over the persistent roar. I wish I had Sara’s faith. I wish I wasn’t the only coward still standing at the edge.

Sweat drips down my back. The monster I know or the monster I don’t know? Definite loss of freedom or possible loss of life? Somewhere in the back of my mind, Boswell laughs and the choice becomes easy.

I hold my breath. And jump.

SS - Cat's Game

Cat's Game

from "Dansero" (Richard Hayman)

Twinkling lights. Brilliant Colours. Sultry heat. Dana loved the boardwalk after sunset. It came alive in a way you’d never see during the day. Different sounds. Different people. A different taste in the air. The tourist shops closed and the night clubs opened.

The moving sidewalk buzzed against Dana’s bare feet and soothed away the ache of standing on her feet all day. Neon signs flashed by on either side. She pulled out a tube of fuschia lipstick and reapplied it liberally. The reflection in her compact mirror showed her that her make up was immaculate -as always- and that the man in blue was following her again. Perfect. She snapped the mirror shut and stowed it away in her clutch.

The vibrant green fountains of the Portagio whirled and spit just ahead to her left. Dana pulled free the alligator clip from her hair and stepped off the sidewalk onto the splashed tiles. Mist swirled around her as she shook her tight curls into an organized disarray. She didn’t need a mirror to know that he was watching. Shall we dance, dear mouse? If worse comes to worst, I would like to have seen your face first. She gave her hair a last flounce and strode up the blue-lit steps to the Portagio’s mirrored front doors. She caught a glimpse of him stumbling in his attempt to exit the briskly moving sidewalk -definitely a foreigner- in the door’s reflection as she passed inside the club.

TL - Epicness

Just this.

SS - Ambush

Ambush

from "Underworld" (Alexandre Desplat)

    If Marko had not known what he was watching for, he would have missed it. The Artimaeus Train blended almost seamlessly into the shadows of the glen. There was only the barest hint of its massive lumbering shape as it emerged from the forest at the valley’s mouth and any noise it made in its passing could not be heard over the music of the valley’s crickets. An occasional flare of red sparks from the railroad tracks beneath the ensorcelled train betrayed the magic that hid the train from sight and hearing. It had come -at last!- but it was late and moving slowly.

     The others who waited at the far end of the glen needed to be signalled but Marko hesitated. His hands shook with suppressed adrenaline. He fumbled with his darklight receiver and dropped it. Blast. He bent to retrieve it and felt something sting the top of his ear and side of his head. He dropped flat in the tall grass. What was that? Clutching the receiver, he peered down the hill. The train had suddenly picked up speed. Marko flicked the top off the receiver and sent the warning signal. The receiver buzzed softly in confirmation that it had sent.

     The train was halfway through the glen and still accelerating, red sparks popped and spit in greater frequency. What if Marko had been too late? Blast and conflagration! They had put too much into this for it all to come apart now.

     His ear throbbed and something wet oozed down the side of his neck. Blood. The realization of his own danger came roaring back into his mind.  The tracks immediately downhill from him were empty now that the train had passed. The grass wasn’t so tall that anyone could have hidden from him on the slope. The shooter must have been on the train.

      But how could anyone on the train have known he was here?
    
     An ear splitting shriek shattered the quiet. The trap had been sprung! Glancing around once more, Marko pushed himself up to run. He took a step and was hauled back and off his feet by an invisible hand.
   
     “In a hurry, boy?”

Brought to you by the Letter D

A game of lists and letters is my sort of game.

How to Play: Comment to this entry and I’ll give you a letter. List ten things that you love that begin with that letter and then post that list.

My List: Ten Things I Love That Begin With The Letter D
  
1.  Dreams/dreaming

2. Dawn/daylight


3. Dimples!


4. Drizzles and downpours


5. Darkness


6. Dolphins


7. Dessert

8. Dogs

9. Didgeridoos

10. Doorways



Honourable mentions to: dragons, disco balls, dressing up, dirigibles, deepness...  :D

Dance would be at the top of the list but it was already given to me as a D word by the original poster: Amy Rose Davis

SS - The Way it Ends

The Way it Ends 

from "Beautiful Letdown" (Switchfoot) 

   Stars streamed past the viewing window. I fumbled against the straps holding me in my seat. I had to see the end for myself or I wouldn’t believe it. The clasps came free and I fell forward. Pain tore up my side. “Dammit!” I ran my good hand over the bandage. It still held firmly to my skin. I grit my teeth against the ache and crawled to the window. After so long in near-weightlessness the false gravity of the escape pod pinned me to the floor. I wouldn’t have been able to stand even if the cursed Salzen hadn’t burned my left arm and leg to uselessness. Damn the traitors to Ursa’s Hole!

    At the window, I managed to pull myself up enough to grasp a handhold to one side of it. Behind my pod’s trail of exhaust, I could see it: the Galanthos Space Sation, pride of the living Planets, masterpiece from the combined skills of the nine races. It took three hundred years and millions of engineers and artists to build it. Its destruction took less than three seconds.

    The first explosions happened on the far side from me, just scattered flashes of light and a hazy halo of debris developing in eerie silence. Then a burst of light blinded me. By the time I blinked away the tears and afterimage, nothing but a dark smear across the stars marked where Galanthos had been. Words rose unbidden to my mind, last lines from an ancient poem. I whispered them out loud to the silence:
    “This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.*”  



*TS Eliot's "Hollow Men"

TL - Small Happinesses

1. Retelling silly family stories around the dinner table

2. Salmon cooked just right with lime and lemon

3. Making foam block color-coded houses with a six year old

4. Baby steps with a 9-month old

5. Blueberry super tea and a circle of prayer

6. Smelly chickens that will grow up to be delicious

7. Reading the opening pages of a much-loved book over again

TL - Books Much Anticipated

 Insurgent by Veronica Roth (May 1, 2012)

 Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore (May 1, 2012)

 Palace of Stone (no cover released yet)  by Shannon Hale (August, 2012)

Bloodbonded by Amy Rose Davis (possible 2013 release)

Anything by Brandon Sanderson that is not Wheel of Time (no dates set yet)

SS - The Door Home

Song: This is Not the End (Gungor)

The Door Home

Bells. Not large ones, like the High Church bells, but small ones, like jingle bells, sang on the cold spring wind. Bethany lifted her head and listened. She couldn’t tell exactly where the sound was coming from but it seemed close.


“Do you hear that, Midas?” She ruffled his fluffy ears. He perked up and licked her chin. “Should we see if we can find it?” He barked once and jumped out of her lap.


She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You get excited way too easy. If only you were happy and smart maybe we’d be home now.” The bells seemed to come from just ahead and to the left. She started that way with Midas trotting beside her. It didn’t seem as cold as it had when she had stopped to sit. It also seemed to be getting brighter.


The bells continued to sing but there was something else too. Humming? “Hello?” Bethany called. She tried to peer ahead between the mossy trees but the light was making her squint now. Wet grass smushed under her feet. She stopped beside a tree that didn’t have any green. The music was right here.


Midas whined and pressed his nose against her palm.


“What do you see?” Holding a hand up against the light, Bethany looked up. Tiny bells hung from every branch of the tree, sparkling, spinning, singing. “Oh.” She pushed up on tiptoes to try and touch one. Beautiful!


The humming noise stopped.


“Here,” a branch was pushed down until Bethany could just reach the bell hanging from its tip. The bell dropped into her palm with a happy ring.


“Thank you!” Bethany said.


“You’re welcome.” The stranger had a voice like a jazz singer. Her skin was the colour of chocolate, she wore a coat as white and puffy as marshmallows and her face smiled without smiling.


A worry Bethany hadn’t known she was holding fell away. “I’m kinda lost.” She said. “Do you know the way home?”


“I might.” The woman said. She knelt down to offer a hand to Midas who sniffed enthusiastically then pushed up close to be petted. “Depends on what you mean by home.”


“Mm, I don’t know the address yet. But it is a pretty green and pink house with a white fence. Mr. Tom and Mrs. Amy painted it their favourite colours.”


The woman’s head tilted a little to one side to show she was listening close as she rubbed Midas’ belly. His tongue hung out of his mouth.


“Don’t worry, he does that whenever he gets his belly rubbed.” Bethany said. “His name is Midas and I’m Bethany. Do you know Mr. Tom and Mrs. Amy?”


“Not personally,” answered the woman, “although I do know the way to their house.” The way she looked at Bethany made Bethany feel older and more important. “My name is Daleth.”


“Daleth.” Bethany liked the sound and feel of it. “That’s a funny name.”


“It is.” Daleth smiled. “And Bethany is a beautiful name. Tell me, Bethany, is Mr. Tom and Mrs. Amy’s green and pink house home?”


“What else would be?” The bell in Bethany's hand rang, a clear high note.


“Perhaps this,” Daleth gestured and the light behind her shimmered into an open doorway.

TL - Things I Hate About Colds

 :P

1. Sore throat - hurts to swallow, hurts to sing, nothing tastes right

2. Sniffly nose - annoying and really gross

3. Headaches - add insult to illness

4. Fatigue - being so so tired even when you sleep more than usual

5. Incoherency - this blog post, 'nuff said

G'night!

TL - Authors I Love

To list every author would be beyond the scope of a blog post but here are three to start:


GK Chesterton
Mystery. Philosophy. Wonder. Snippets of dialogue or narration that are either laugh-out-loud or keep-you-awake-at-night-thought-provoking.
It is a life's ambition of mine to own the Father Brown omnibus.

Lynn Austin
Because of the way she weaves different narratives together into one story, it is just captivating to me (especially the stories that involve different generations like Eve's Daughters). I don't exactly what it is about her writing and stories but they fit a particular niche in my book-loving heart.

Kaci Hill
Darkness. Light. Anticipation. Betrayal. Sacrifice. Victory. I was won over not by whole stories but by mere snippets of stories and contributions to for-fun shared works online.
Sadly, the only stories currently published by this wonderful storyteller are the co-written Lunatic and Elyon (with Ted Dekker). But I am hopeful of seeing more as time goes on.

a warm smile

"Then the Lady Amalthea smiled at him for the first time since she had come to stay in King Haggard's castle. It was a small smile, like the new moon, a slender bend of brightness on the edge of the unseen, but Prince Lír leaned toward it to be warm. He would have cupped his hands around her smile and breathed it brighter, if he had dared."

-page 149 of The Last Unicorn (Peter S. Beagle)

SS - In the Wicked Woods

Songs: I Believe in Love (BarlowGirl) & Father And Son (Ronald Owen)

In the Wicked Woods

The swing creaked. It was a sound as familiar to Janet as it was antithetical to the Wicked Woods. The worn wood of the seat cushioned her while the old rope scraped at her hands. She let her toes drag in the black dirt and the swing slowed.

“I don’t understand why are you here,” said the ghost who leaned against one post of the swing.

 Janet had learned long ago that looking at ghosts made her eyes sting and her stomach queasy so she kept her eyes straight forward. Not that looking would have helped to identify the ghost. The ghosts of the Woods changed face and form like Janet’s sister changed shoes. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“If you don’t already know then I won’t be able to explain it to you.”

The ghost appeared directly in front of Janet. She wore the cherubic face of a little girl but her dark eyes held the gravity and cunning of the very old.

Janet’s stomach churned and she shut her eyes tight. Goosebumps rose over her arms and legs. She could smell the ghost now, a faint mix of smoke, rain and lilacs. She knew this one. Considering what the ghost was capable of, Janet knew she shouldn’t allow herself to relax and feel a measure of comfort but she couldn’t help it. She was alone, encircled by the Woods, and no one would be coming to save her, but she smiled. “Well met, Lisla, I’m glad you came here first.”

“You always were a strange child,” there was no warmth in Lisla’s voice, “but you are not a child anymore. You have no excuse for trespassing here even if you are as crazy as the old man was.”

Janet continued to smile, eyes closed, “I take after my Grandfather, in spirit if not in looks.”

“He’s dead.”

Even now, it hurt. Janet took a slow breath and let it out. “I know.”

“If you go now, you can still leave.” There was something new in Lisla’s tone that Janet had not heard before. “I’ve made a path for you.”

Janet looked at the ghost. She steeled herself to ignore the shifting transparency of the ghost’s face and see just Lisla’s eyes. The same something was hidden there, flickering in the dark depths. “I was right.” Janet said even though she couldn’t be sure of what she saw or heard, it was so very faint.

“You have to go now.”

Janet shook her head. “I’m not going.” She let go of the swing and spread her hands. “Like you said, I’m as crazy as he was.”

Lisla’s form grew taller but seemed shrunk in on itself even as she loomed over Janet still seated on the swing. Her face, still shifting, now appeared more grotesque than cherubic. “I can’t protect you.” She hissed.

Lisla’s desperation could not sway Janet from her decision, but it was a confirmation of Janet’s hopes for the ghost. “I’m glad you came, Lisla, but you don’t have to stay and watch what happens next. The path-”

“-will not conceal a soulless.”

A cold wind blew low over the few blades of yellow-brown grass. It twisted around Janet’s ankles and whispered cruel words.

Janet swallowed back her own fear and kept her eyes on Lisla. “If you have no soul then there is no risk. Take the path.”

For another moment the ghost hovered. There was rustling in the trees. Shadows deepened.

“Go now.”

Lisla touched a cold hand to Janet’s face. “I’m sorry.” She vanished, just before darkness enveloped the clearing.

TL-5 Valentine's Day Ingredients

1. Chocolate (preferably dark, preferably fairtrade)

2. Formal gown or fuzzy pajamas (or both in succession)

3. A chick flick (something quality along the lines of Ever After, nothing raunchy)

4. Assorted craft supplies (magazines, gluestick, construction paper, yarn, scissors, etc.)

5. Naive anticipation

Honestly, I am a single gal who adores St. Valentine's Day. I angst about my missing half on other days of the year. This day is one day that I am utterly content to be without a significant other.
*shrug* :)

A very happy St. Valentine's Day to you whatever your relationship "status"! May you feel beautiful and treasured and strong. <3

TL-4 Why February is Epic

Reasons.

3. St. Valentine's Day - I'm single and hopelessly romantic and I will love this holiday forever regardless of how ruthlessly it is commercialized.

2. Leap years - HILARIOUS. I mean, really, adding a day to a month every 4 years? It tickles my funny bone. o:)

Bestest of all

1. It is the time of year when the increasing amount of daylight becomes noticeable. I find myself frequently giddy throughout the month as my subconscious celebrates what my eyes barely register. Winter is passing, spring is coming!



*Leanna basks in the light and the rain*

TL-3 Wonderful Rain

I love rain, I really truly do. :)

Here are a few reasons why:

1. The music of it.
I find virtually any water noise relaxing (e.g. ocean, river, showers running) but there is something especially soothing about rain regardless of how light or heavy it is coming down. Whether pitter-pattering or roaring, it is my choice as a soundtrack for writing or a lullaby for sleeping.

2. Mmmm...the smell.
Fresh. Clean. The smell of rain is the smell of old things being made new. Hurrah!

3. When it falls on your face.
This one relates closely with number 2 and is especially wonderful if you have been crying. It is like the sky is crying for you.

4. The silly WETNESS of it.
Splashing in puddles or simply spinning until you are soaked through, rain encourages play. Some games, like soccer, are at their best when played in the rain.

5. Mystery of mist.
Rain means clouds. Not fluffy shape-funny white ones high up in the sky (although those are lovely too).  But soaking close-as-your-skin clouds. Horizon-obscuring clouds. Clouds that slip between tree trunks and make mountains vanish and reappear. Clouds that make this writer's mind wonder "what if?" so that new worlds flicker and appear.

Thanks be to the Creator for this precious gift of rain!

SS - King of Pride Rock

Feast and Rememberance
(King of Pride Rock from the Lion King soundtrack)


A single note on the silver horn called the feasting crowd to silence. The Queen rose from her place and servants dimmed the lights on the rough rock walls. Three of the troupers rushed into the open ground encircled on four sides by the long tables. They laid out a shimmering length of grey fabric. A fourth trouper poured water upon the fabric. The music started, a mournful melody with the rhythm of marching feet behind it.


“Remember,” said the Queen. “Remember our lost.”


Water and fabric rippled as the troupers danced. Not a single drop escaped the entwining until they came to kneel before the Queen’s table and pour it out at her feet. A cascade of black lillies followed the small waterfall.


The troupers spun away and others came to join them, matching into pairs. Each trouper moved within a handsbreath of his partner without ever touching. It seemed impossible for them to leap and whirl and crouch so close and yet not embrace.


“Despite peace and prosperity, we built walls between ourselves and allowed hatred to flourish where there should have been fellowship.”


The music grew darker and ominous. Several of the troupers lit blue fire and danced with it, still without touching their partners.


“We tore ourselves apart in false pride with our derision, our gossip, our scorn.”


Here and there, blue light blazed as two partners met in sudden violence and one crumpled to the ground.


“There were those who dared another way.”


Red light flared as two more pairs embraced but the connection blended into their dancing and made it greater than before. One lifted the other high and then caught her when she fell. The four came together, whirling kaleidoscope of coloured fire and swift movement.


The other troupers halted their dancing to surround the four who dared to touch each other. The blue fire in their hands died, casting them as silhouettes between the watchers and the four who still danced.


“We could not bear their freedom, their joy, their abandonment of what we most prized.”


The shadowed troupers tore the dancers from each other. Fire flashed in brief spurts. One of the women was flung between several of the shadowed ones until she fell limp and motionless. One of the shadows flung up a hand of brightest blue fire and all the others froze. He knelt beside the fallen woman. Red fire licked up from her body to alight in his hand and merge with the blue.


“Only after blood had flowed like water through our land and every family had lost a sister or a brother, did we see truly what we had done. Too late. All life rebelled against our tyranny.”


One by one the frozen troupers dropped to their knees and covered their heads.


“The sun did not shine. The clouds held to their rain. Mines collapsed. Forest burned. Fields only grew thorns.”


The trouper with the hand of red and blue flames stood. He brought the fire to his lips and drank it. The hall grew brighter even as the fire vanished. Golden light ran across the tables more like water than fire. One by one, the gathered rose from their own seats. Each spoke a single name. The music had crescendoed but every name still rang clearly through the hall no matter how hushed the speaker’s voice.


“Annalise.” Said the last man as he stood at the Queen’s right hand.


“Avron.” Said the Queen. “We remember.”


“We remember.” The words echoed back not only from those at the tables but from the servants who stood behind them and from the troupers where they knelt or lay.


“We forgive,” said the Queen.


“We forgive!” Every hand in the Hall raised a cup with the cry. They drank a sip of the wine and then passed the cups, sharing with whomever was in reach. The troupers rolled to their feet and passed among the tables with their cups. Every light was relit. The feasting resumed.

FLA2 - Mark Reads

I know it is terribly geeky but I really do enjoy reading other people's thoughts when reading books. o:) It is like experiencing the book all over again.


Thus, this Friday's Link to Awesomeness is the site: Mark Reads. (caution: foul language)


For his website, Mark reads books a single chapter at a time, posting his reaction to each chapter usually on a daily basis. Reading his reactions is an immersive experience into the book he is reading, his emotions go right along with the characters and he speculates wildly about what might happen next with, more often than not, hilarious results.

At the moment of this blog's publishing, he is reading through the Lord of the Rings for the first time and it is just AWESOME. I love people who love the books I love. <3 o:)

FLA1 - Fabo Collabo

The very first Friday's Link to Awesomeness is an article on a collaborative dance concert in Rochester, NY.

Fabo Collabo!

A good friend of mine is a member of one of the participating dance companies. B-) I just wish I could be there to see it!

TL-2 Wips for 2012

Wips = Works in progress :)

1. Sparrow Falls - inspired by a dream I had last year, I wrote a few paragraphs of it back in September and have odd notes in different places but I hope to get at least the first 10k or so of it done this year
(I know that is a pretty piddly goal but I'm coming off night shift right now and have zip ambition for anything but sleeping)

2. Mesiebed - My Nano from 2009 was abandoned just before the climax of the novel. I would really like to write this one's ending.

3. Errant Adventure (or another GEH related book) - I would like to tinker around with more scenes for this middle grade series. I don't think the story is rooted deep enough in me yet but it does still interest me. Plus, it was birthed as a collaboration between my youngest sister and I.

4. Wolf's Lullaby - I originally conceived this idea as a novella or short story but now it is spinning off in my head into more of a web serial. ...which is a tantalizing thought. We'll see what happens when I actually put words to paper/screen.

5. Awake Now - one of the opening novellas for... I'm really not sure how to describe this project. But it makes me happy.

6. (no working title) - some sort of group write - I don't know that snippets of this would ever appear on my blog but I am very much hoping to do more group writing this year.

7. 2012 NaNo - I don't have a working title for this novel yet but I have a friend who wants me to ghost write an idea she has been imagining for quite some time. And there always has to be some sort of new/bizarre challenge for my NaNos so writing someone else's book would definitely fit.

Hooray!

TL-1 Plans for this Blog

This year I have a plan (of sorts) to make blogging more regular and reliable for my readers (each one of you!). ;)

1) Tuesday's Lists, which is what this blog post is, will take place every Tuesday (or possibly second Tuesday) and will simply be a list of seven related things. Possibly silly, possibly serious.

2) Friday's Link to Awesome will take place every Friday (I like weekly things) and will simply be a link to something I think is awesome (with or without commentary/explanation). It could be another blog or a video or a webpage or a twitter account or who knows really.

3) "Whys", which I attempted to start last year, will be posted as I write them with links on my "Whys" page. This is still something I want to explore but not something I want to try and do on a schedule.

4) Song Scenes will be posted monthly. Possibly on a consistent date. The writing exercise is entertaining for me even if it isn't for anyone else.

5) Replottings will be chance for me to vent about niddlying details in the books I read (or movies I watch). Despite the critiquing/complaining nature of these posts to come, the authors/stories referenced are more likely to be adored than detested by me. If I didn't care about the story in one fashion or another, I wouldn't care about the niddlying details.

7) And I'm skipping 6) because this is supposed to be a list of seven and I have nothing else to add right now. o:) TTFN.

2012 "Wishes"

Per tradition, in no particular order and with less preplanning than previous years, here are my wishes for the new year.  

1) Do the NICU clinical course

2) Finish a crossword puzzle

3) Visit Tofino

4) Join Twitter (maybe)

5) Attend the Calgary Stampede (this year is their centennial, way cool)

6) Undertake NaNoWriMo for my sixth year in a row (and ML for a third year)

7) Grow basil

8) Learn how to use Scrivener and use it for my writing projects

9) Set up group writing possibilities

10) Attend USANA's 25th annual convention in SLC

11) Attempt Script Frenzy again (and win!)

12) Organize a telemetry review day with co-workers

13) Help a friend do something especially awesome

14) Go house hunting (for kicks if not for serious)

15) Blog regularly with at least one scheduled post weekly

16) Go in the ocean at least 13 times

17) Buy a new pair of nursing shoes (for real, stop putting this off)

This list is shorter than previous year's since I am mostly making it up on the spot but I may let myself add to it as the year goes on.