The Scribbling Pencil

“But it ain’t me you gotta worry about now.”

My pick for Monster Mash 2019, just for the fact that I like Vin Diesel and Riddick.  I had to trip a lot because I have a tendency to do a lot of description and it can be easy to get carried away and go over the word limit.

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Between a Rock and a Hard Place

“I don’ think your friends are coming back. But it ain’t me you gotta worry about now.”

Feranell eyed the trollkin. He had been captured when the two parties had coming across each other. The skirmishes between their people never got better and some lost sight of what they were fighting for.

He grinned, the white and red war paint across his face making the expression more menacing. Yellow eyes watched her while he tested the rope wrapped around his wrists. They had taken everything except the clothing he had underneath the armor. He was still a threat and she would be glad when her companions came back with reinforcements.

“It is what I said. There are worse things out there that are looking for your kind. They are attracted to the tendrils you attach to yourself, following them like starving hounds.”

She frowned at him, not sure what he meant. Her gaze directed towards the sigils she had drawn herself for keeping the small single story room safe. “You’re lying. There isn’t anything out there.”

“Are you so sure? You think that nothing can slip along the edges of your protections? Anything can be broken if something is determined enough. There are beings that are tricky and enjoy the challenge of the hunt by breaking down what you build up.”

Feranell scowled at the man. He was trying to unnerve her because it was the two of them. She wished someone had stayed behind with her. She wasn’t used to being in the midst of fighting like others.

There was a loud SNAP and the crash of something falling outside the window. She jumped and spun towards it, hand curling around the athame. It was pitch black outside with the exception of the lightning that danced around the clouds, illuminating the forest in short bursts. The scouts should have been back by now. Their camp hadn’t been far away and it was past time for them to be back.

“Feeling jumpy? Worried about something, ya?” He was amused by her discomfort.

“Shut up.” Feranell took a deep breath, sidling to the window to peer out. She waited for the lightning to illuminate the area and saw one of the large trees on its side, roots exposed to the open air. There hadn’t been a lightning strike. No reason for it to be down.

“All those brave men and they left you by yourself. Sure they coming back?”

“I can take care of myself.” She glanced over her shoulder, refusing to respond to the baiting. He was being an ass. If one of his own were trying to get him back, it was best to stay inside where she knew she could defend. She squinted and tried to peer to the sides as far as she could. She didn’t see anything, but goosebumps beaded along her skin and the hair on the back of her neck rose up.

The man gave another chuckle. He was finding too much amusement when he was the one at a disadvantage. “You feel it, ya? Something not right out there, watching you. It could already be too late to get away. Who knows.”

“If that is the case, you are at risk as much as I am.” She didn’t want to take her gaze from the window, backing away from it. It was stupid to stand right there and be a target.

“I’m more protected than you will ever be. You are the tastier target, so I have time.”

“You’re tired up. I can run away and leave you as the offering.”

“Am I?” his voice rumbled like the purr of a well fed cat.

She dared to turn her gaze to where he was bound and saw the frayed ropes hanging from the exposed rafter he had been tied to. Vice-like arms closed around her, pulling her against a cool body just as something slammed against the window, shattering it and a long tendril slithered along the floor.

“Guess it doesn’t like to be missing out on a tasty meal.” The trollkin’s voice was soft in her ear as she stared at the creature. It was pitch black and undulated like a snake. The maw opened and exposed the sharp teeth and it snapped, trying to wiggle it’s large bulk in.

“Now, you have a choice. Face that or maybe I’ll take you with, ya? The choice is yours.”

749 words

© 2019 Nellie Batz

I have to admit that I have let this blog go by the wayside and will need to work on getting it back up again.   Excuse me while I work on the dust and reconfigure everything.

Nellie

Much like NaNoWriMo in November is all about putting words down, even if you manage to make the 50k or not.   There is also an editing month, two Camp NaNos in April and July.   JuNoWriMo is another month were you can try your hand at writing 50k.   It is not affiliated with the Office of Letters and Light and NaNoWriMo.   But it is still something to try and the group is helpful and fun.

You also get a chance to buy some swag or donate to help support it.   Now granted, I have yet to win myself but I’m trying to do better and it’s always a good time to get one’s butt in gear and actually finish my stories or just cut them down to short story/novella length.  We’ll see how things go.

There used to be a website but now there is only the Facebook page, JuNoWriMo.  Come join in the fun.

Wow, I know I said I needed to post more but we see how well that is doing.  I’m trying to get back into healthy writing habits, such as daily writing, even if it is only a couple hundred words a day.  I need to do it.   If I’m ever to get all my half finished works finished, I need to do something.

Even if it is to go out somewhere to Panera, it gets me out of the house and off the extremely comfortable couch.  It is a deadly thing, this couch, sucking me in with it’s sweet siren song of comfiness.

I haven’t worked on NaNo yesterday due to a family issue and I had my mind on other things than writing but they seemed to be resolved now.   So I definitely need to work on that.  I’m at the 16k mark so while the halfway marks is four days away, I need to come up with 2500 approximately to get there.

There was something that I’ve been sitting on and stewing about.  I am in a writing group that meets every two months.  It’s that far because while it had been bigger, because of changing to a different location that might be a little harder to get to (We used to meet at B&N until they did their restructure and added the kids toys), we are down to four people.   There is one member who tried and tried and tried to pitch a book that he had written and never got any solid bites.  There were some nibbles but that’s about it.  So he self-published himself.  Which there is nothing wrong with that.  Sometimes people are more successful.   At the meeting, we were talking about how publishing is changing, with small press and self publishing being an option for people who can’t get into the big houses.   He talked about his experience and about how he isn’t sure if he would do anything with small press.

Then he talked about how there are only 4 copies sold of his book, that he didn’t really promote himself, has only 40 or so twitter follows and didn’t do anything much to let it be known that he had a book out.   He was in an anthology that was recently release, TV Gods.  It really is a good book and has a lot of interesting stories, most of them by local authors in my area.  It’s a small pub press and he was complaining about how they weren’t really engaging people to buy the book when they were at Balticon.   I wasn’t there so I can’t really judge.   But I’m sitting there thinking that he didn’t do anything to really engage the reading community, or offer a copy or two to book bloggers and be more aggressive at promoting himself beyond a few tweets or so.   But he felt comfortable complaining about someone else was promoting their stuff and wasn’t going with small press with any of his work.   I guess he wants to go big or go home.  Which is a shame, because I enjoy the small press books as much as the big house books.

I was just thinking that he really can’t complaining when he’s not doing the work.  In the publishing industry these days, the author does a good chunk of their own promoting.   Yes, the Publisher puts out e-mails and talks about their new releases but it’s the author who is drumming up the business for their own book as the hook.  If you want your book to sell, you can’t just sit back and expect it to sell itself or anyone else to pimp your book out if you don’t do anything.

It’s the nature of the beast and always seems to be changing.  If I ever have something out, no matter the venue, I know what not to do and that’s nothing.

Of course, I can’t count these words towards my NaNo.  Darn it.  🙂