Soul Swallower – new series WIP

I think that’s the name of the series. I like the alliteration anyway. Better than Soul Gulper.

Perhaps you remember the character Raze from one of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompts. Well, he’s back with a series of his own.

I don’t have too much to share yet, but here’s a brief peek at the act of swallowing a soul:

***

When the others retired, Raze sat by the hearth, its flames dwindling to scarlet embers. His grief for Briyon unearthed old ghosts, his mother among them, an ageless portrait suspended in the gallery of his mind. Not so his memories of Mirelle. Those lingered with infinite fluidity, entangled with visions of the past and dreams of a future that would never be.

Six years had shuffled by since her death, five since he’d joined Briyon at the freehold, and no lever had proved long or strong enough to pry her from his heart. Loneliness invaded his body so deeply it punched the breath from his lungs and sapped the strength from his back, and no hoping and wishing could bring those people back. A twenty-one he was master of the freehold, a tired soul, angry at a world he couldn’t control.

He turned the pendant over in his hand, keenly aware of its delicate beauty. The white soulstone had transformed, no longer solid but translucent with pale wisps of color swirling like morning mist. Copper wire the breadth of a strand of hair coiled around it, holding a round sliver of peridot in place with a final twist of two tiny leaves. It glowed with a soft light, indicating the presence of a soul. A soul he loved.

With great care, he unhooked the copper leaves, unwound the wire, and removed the green gem that capped a small hole. Inside, an iridescent sphere resembling a pearl shone with a brilliance that startled him. Were all souls so bright? He didn’t know; this was his first. He rolled it into his hand. Would he swallow it? Did he want what Briyon offered? Was there anything to fear?

The pearl of light glowed in his palm, offering no insight. He placed it back into the pendant. No need to choose; no decision pressed him to act with haste. The round gem refitted, he coiled the wires, paused, and then uncoiled them. In one fluid motion, he uncapped the pendant, tipped the sphere into his mouth, and swallowed.

A rush of heat streamed from his belly, up through his heart into his head and down his limbs to his fingers and toes. His body trembled, the sensation alien, but not frightening, and not long lived, for it subsided as quickly as it had overtaken him. Eyes closed, he accepted Briyon’s soul. In the quiet of night, he exhaled a long breath, crept to bed, and dreamed another man’s dreams.

A gathering of muses

What better way to wrap up a series of muse posts than with a pub crawl. They’re dressing up and going out on the town, leaving all their writer’s behind with to-do lists. Thanks to Julie for the fun post and to everyone who took the time to participate. Happy Writing!

Facets of a Muse

A newspaper lays across my desk in my writing office, but it isn’t any newspaper I recognize. It’s not the local Enterprise or Hub. It’s called the Inspiration. The headline reads: “First Annual Muse Gathering”.

Hmmm. Why do I have a funny feeling about this?

Before I can read the article, my Muse sweeps into the office and swipes the paper from my hands. “Hey, I was reading that.”

He folds the newpaper and tucks it under his arm. “Don’t bother. It’s boring.”

Then I notice his attire. No worn jeans here–the ones he’s wearing look like they came fresh from the indigo dye factory. And is that a silk shirt? It’s a rich maroon that adds a little color to his complexion–not that I’m complaining. Oh, no. Sooo not complaining.

“Ah hem. Earth to Julie.”

Ahhh, yeah. “Where are you going? Is that really a silk shirt?”

“I’m going…

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My muse and a new look for Lady Sweet

Another muse post, and I’m relieved to say I no longer have the toughest muse on the block. Robbie’s General is a real taskmaster! One more muse post today as the whole gang goes on a pub crawl without us!

Robbie's inspiration

It seems that after Diana from Myths of the Mirror wrote her delightful post about her muse, the blogosphere is full of muses. You can read about Diana’s muse here: https://mythsofthemirror.com/2017/08/25/muse-for-hire/ – so far the scariest of them all.

I thought that I didn’t have a muse but this weekend I realised that I do. He is a general in the army and, boy, is he used to getting things done. He runs a very tight schedule and time for resting and doing nothing is obsolete. He wants things done, he wants them done right and he wants them done NOW!

My General Write is quite determined that he will be successful in life. He uses my weekends to further his own writing aspirations and he is a very tough task master. This is what he had in store for me on Saturday:

Saturday, 9 September

5.00 am – wakes…

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Her Muse

Another muse. This one sweet and dreamy, a whisperer in the ear, a part of her host on a cellular and spiritual level. ❤

roughwighting

writing, creative writing, museWight Muse by Mike Allegra.

Our name is Pamela Wight, but only she is a middle-aged woman.

She isn’t always middle-aged, and she isn’t always a woman.

At this point though, her Earth self is unable to comprehend the truth. But once, long ago and yet still now (on the time spectrum that surrounds us, even though most refuse to see it), she and I are one on an enchanted island of being.

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The Day My Muse Sent Her Sister

I’m delighted to share another muse post. This one by the very funny Sarah Brentyn at Lemon Shark. Her muse sent her diva sister over to harass Sarah. Hop over to her blog for a laugh. 🙂

Lemon Shark

“Oh, no,” I gasped.

She rolled her eyes.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I whined. She’d only visited once before, when I’d stopped writing and started wallowing in self-pity. I didn’t know why, but I knew I was in for it. My muse’s sister is a diva.

“Let’s get this over with,” she huffed. “I’ve got a manicure at three.”

I turned my chair to her. “Fine.”

She put her hand on her hip. “You’re not funny. I mean, your sense of humor is so dry, it needs a chaser. Or a shot of tequila. Or both.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She started ticking off my offenses on her fingers. “You’re sarcastic and snarky.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Every once in a great while, you manage a bit of wit but that’s it. And you’re completely crazy with your alliteration and internal rhyming.”

“I’m not the only one,” I…

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World-building: Settings for all Genres – Guest Post by, Diana Peach…

I had the great pleasure of guest-posting with Chris, The Story Reading Ape on the writerly topic of world-building – something I can talk about until I’m plumb out of breath. 🙂 Hop over if you’re interested. Happy Weekend!

Chris The Story Reading Ape's Blog

As a fantasy/science-fiction writer, I’ve stacked up a bit of experience with world-building that I’ve wanted to share, and The Story-Reading Ape’s blog is the perfect venue.

Now don’t run away if you don’t write speculative fiction. Clearly, world-building is a key part of bringing fantasy and science-fiction stories to life, but it plays a role in all fiction, and in some non-fiction as well.

Setting as Character

Most of us probably agree that the physical places within our stories need to feel authentic. But if we create them as mere backdrops to the action, we’re missing an opportunity to enrich our readers’ experiences. In great fiction, setting plays a role in the story. It’s changeable, a help, a hindrance, a metaphor, a mood, possibly even a character in the drama.

Fantasy author Brandon Sanderson is a proponent of the idea of setting-as-character and builds a “character profile” of the…

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Missing Muse

I couldn’t resist sharing another blogger’s muse, this one presented by Brad over at Writing to Freedom. It seems these muses all know each other and what a bunch of personalities. Did you know they have a labor union? Enjoy. 😀

writing to freedom

Missing Musemissing muse

My writing muse has been missing in action for a while. My fanciful friend, Muse Brad, seems to have left the premises. I persist in writing because I’m a stubborn cuss, but my writing feels flat and forced.

Or maybe I have a new muse that is all about writing schedules ala D. Wallace’s Muse for Hire.  Personally, I’d much rather have a muse like Greg from Almost Iowa. His muse is playful, whiny, loves ice cream, and no slave to time or schedules. Maybe we can share muses to spread the pain and pleasure! 🙂

There seems to be a life lesson here. Our muses and our writing need a delicate mix of discipline and allowing. Too much allowing and nothing gets done. Too much discipline and we kill our muse’s spirit. Like a good teacher or parent, we must learn how to use the right tools at the…

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