The Triangulation Of Superheroes #novemberwritingchallenge

I’m always delighted when Geoff takes up a challenge and applies his unique humor. Have fun with his story. Happy Sunday.

TanGental

This is written for D Wallace Peach’s November Writing Challenge

‘Hi, Bat, you okay
to take a call?’

‘Who is it, Alfred?’

‘The Mayor of
Gotham. Sounds a bit angsty.’

‘He’s always
angsty. Put him on.’

The Bat smoothed his cape and noticed a tear with annoyance. You just couldn’t get a decent cape these days. A couple of conflagrations, maybe a small Armageddon and pfft! You’re off to Bat About Town again.

‘Hi,’ the Bat
recognised the nasal congestion that distinguished the mayor from the normally
aspirated. ‘That you, Batman?’

‘Mr Mayor? How’s
Gotham? My spies tell me it’s still predominantly crime free and peaceful.’

‘Indeed so.’

The Bat waited and
then said, ‘I sense a ‘but’ coming…’

‘Better than a
butt kicking.’ The speaker laughed then coughed and finally rather too obviously
spat.

It was a different
voice but another familiar one. ‘You on the line too, Chief…

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Water Striders

I’m so glad that HRR let me include this story as part of the November Challenge. It’s fabulous. Enjoy. 🙂

Let Me Tell You the Story of...

insect water strider

Skri water walks over to me. “Lookit – those things are on the island again.”

The short-limbed creatures watch me from the shores. I do not bounce as if to play, do not acknowledge them. Instead I reach below the surface to grab a chunk of algae. “I thought nothing lived on land.”

“You know what the elder says?” Skri leaned in close. “She thinks they’re monsters.”

The materially-rich monsters move as if to avoid scaring us. There’s something knowing about them, something intelligent, but they’re absent the holiness of water.

I shudder. Nothing with a soul walks on land.

Divider

This sci-fi flash was written for the November 7th Flash Fiction Challenge on the Carrot Ranch. Water Walkers was the theme this week, and that made me think of water strider bugs. I invented an alien that is bigger, intelligent, and walks on water. The land creatures are supposed to be…

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Shade in a mist

Lyrical writing and mystical imagery from Jane. A beautiful response to the challenge. I hope you enjoy.

Jane Dougherty Writes

Diana has a prompt for this novel-writing month, to write a short piece of prose or a poem from the POV of something from a different world. It so happens, I’m doing that more or less, and anything that helps the WIP along is welcome.

The image is one I found in my gallery. It’s from a reblog of one of Kerfe Roig’s posts.

owl close up 2

He sees through the mists now, the shade that was a child once before becoming a giant, a colossus, a warrior. He sees what the men don’t see, with their living eyes full of mist and their ears full of the fluttering of wings. Shades. Owls perhaps. They see in the dark, through what isn’t there. The shade thinks like the child he is, but he is wiser than the men because he has seen death.

The men look up, and the shade realises he…

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Go Away Now

A mystical response to the writing challenge from Kerfe. It might just give you uncontrollable shivers. Enjoy!

K.

go away now s

Complications sour the air. It sits heavy like a rock, immense and expanding.  I am pinned to the low and the unbending, hard consonants without vowels.

This place reeks of precarious edges and uncertain lines. I am starved for words.  The familiar has become unreadable, untold.  Noises have become forms that weave themselves into a motionless net around each ungathered piece of what might pass for sanity.  I grow continuously neither better nor worse.

I do not remember what I asked of the universe, the cosmic spirits that randomly move the pieces of my life, that giveth sometimes but often only taketh away.

O yes, their ways are mysterious. Blood and Violence merging into Just The Way Things Are.

If it’s darkness we’re having, let it be extravagant, deeper, emptier, more ravening than their insatiable hunger.

Let them dine alone—I will swallow myself

go away now close up s

Victoria at dVersehas given us words…

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A visit from the bossy muse, a free book, and a couple of awards

The muse’s latest look (pixabay compilation)

Way too early in the morning, my muse drops down beside me on my couch and tosses her hat onto the coffee table. The howler monkey that’s been riding her shoulder for a year leaps onto my kitchen counter, curls back its rubbery lips, and flashes a yellow-toothed grin. The muse hands me a latte. “Nice progress on the draft… finally.”

“Thanks.” I’m still leering at the monkey but manage to sip my latte. Yum. “So, why the visit?  You know I’m under NaNo pressure.” I somehow forget to mention that yesterday I logged zero words.

She arches an eyebrow but for once shrugs off her annoyance. “I’m running a promotion for a couple of days. Catling’s Bane is free today and Wednesday. Your sales blah blah blah…” I’m not listening. The howler’s opened my refrigerator and taken a bite from a head of lettuce. He’s going for the orange juice.

I bolt up. “Hey! Out of there!” The beast roars at me, a sound capable of bursting eardrums. He grabs a tuna sandwich I made for my husband’s lunch, darts across the cabin’s single room, and climbs halfway up the stairs. Suspended from the banister, he gobbles and spills bits of sandwich on the furniture below. UGH. I sink back onto the couch and glower, afraid any further intervention will make it worse.

“What else,” I ask, wanting to get this over with as quickly as I can.

She smiles at me. My muse never smiles. “Two of your books were semi-finalists in the 2019 Kindle Book Awards.”

“What?” I’ve now forgotten all about the howler and the globs of tuna sprinkling my floor. I’d also forgotten that I submitted books. “Both of them?”

Sunweilder and Soul Swallowers.” She tips back her latte, stands, and snaps her fingers at the monkey. Not two seconds later, the creature swings from the banister onto her shoulder. My muse heads for the door, her familiar bossy ill-humor sliding onto her face. “Get to work.”

“I plan on it. After I clean up this mess.” As she walks out the door and into the forest, I call after her, “Hey, if I finish my first draft, can we lose the monkey?”

She glances back and slips me an evil smile.

***

I guess the muse’s visit could have gone a lot worse.

Click on the cover if you’re interested in a free kindle of Catling’s Bane:

 

And here are those semi-finalists:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Writing!

Remembering

I honor of Veteran’s Day, I’m sharing Sue Vincent’s poignant, personal, and beautifully written reflection on the legacy of war. It’s a tribute to those who’ve served and their families, as well as a heartfelt plea for peace.

The Silent Eye

My mother was not quite seventeen when I was born. She and my father, just three years her senior, had married early as he had joined the army. They were still living close to home when I first came into the world, but it was not long before they moved to married quarters at the other end of the country. My father, though, was not around for long as his unit was sent on active duty overseas, so my mother, still just a teenager herself and with a small child to raise, became effectively a single parent with no family close enough to offer the support and advice she needed.

In spite of being very young at the time, I have very clear memories of where we lived, the things we would do together and the places we went. We lived in a small, top-floor flat in an old building…

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3 More Book Reviews

I’m deep into NaNoWriMo, writing furiously between ongoing parental health stuff. I had to abandon my first draft of a trilogy over a year ago, and can’t even remember some of the characters’ names!  Ugh and Lol. I’m not stopping to look them up. They’re just getting new names that I’ll have to reconcile later. What a mess. But so fun to be writing.

I’ve also been gobbling down books, and it’s about time to share three more reviews!  Here goes:

The Prince’s Man

by Deborah Jay

I thoroughly enjoyed this entertaining and skillfully-written fantasy novel. I was particularly taken with the tight narrative, not a wasted scene or conversation, every word counting as the story unfolded. This contributed to a quick pace and complimented the well-considered plot that comes together with a satisfying ending. Though the first in a series, The Prince’s Man can also be read as a stand-alone.

All that good stuff, and then there’s more… the characters are fabulous, deeply flawed and sympathetic at the same time. The relationship between Rustam and Risada takes center stage. There are hints of a romantic attraction but the reader is saved from moon eyes and heaving chests by a very real tension based on past experiences, current loyalties, and objectives. Despite being allies, there’s a lot of loathing going on here. I love that.

Elves, trolls, and were-cats throw the story into the classic fantasy genre and are integral to the plot and underlying theme of the book. The political machinations are realistic enough to be recognizable today. Prejudices, bigotry, genocide, and beliefs in cultural superiority are alive and well in Jay’s world-building. The characters are forced to revisit their worldviews, but just like in real life, they will only open their eyes so wide. And Jay doesn’t hold back on the brutality.

I’m looking forward to reading the next in the series and seeing what happens to the two main characters as well as a host of others who intrigued me no end. Recommended for anyone who loves a good fantasy.

***

My Maine

by Bette Stevens

This collection of haiku takes about an hour to read, but I recommend a slower savoring of this literary treat. Arranged by season, each poem is an exquisite snapshot of life in Maine — its landscapes, wildlife, people, pastimes, heritage, and communities. They stand alone, but the book’s real beauty is how, when strung together, they create a poetic photo album that captures the heart of the state. A lovely read that I highly recommend.

***

Skating on Thin Ice

by Jacquie Biggar

Injured hockey star Mac Wanowski and his physiotherapist Samantha Walters are stuck together in a secluded mountain cabin. Persistent storms keep them snowbound, but that’s a problem because someone is trying to kill Mac. With the thriller plot as a backdrop, Mac and Sam navigate their attraction to each other, swinging back and forth between escalating passion and fury. The end is full of action and some surprises. Pacing is excellent and the characters are well-defined. Skating on Thin Ice is classic romance with the addition of an exciting subplot. Highly recommended for romance readers.

Happy Reading!