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This is part 2 of my Dream – A wip thingy collection.

Wwhere do we go?” I asked confused. Something like this has never happened in my dreams, though I have to admit we also had never kissed. Maybe this was what I had to discover by myself. Maybe this was what my dreams were about after all? But still, it wouldn’t explain why I dreamed about Erec in such detail in the first place and why of all things in the world it had to come true. Not that I objected, though. So far it was fairly nice.

Nevertheless, it sent a chill down my spine and as I looked up at him I realized that he still hadn’t answered my question. So I asked again, but he hushed me staring ahead of him.

“Don’t you hear that? That scratching sound, like someone drags something behind him?”

Until now I hadn’t really paid attention to my surroundings, but now I saw that we went into a dark alley. Another chill ran down my back. I shouldn’t have kissed him, I thought just before we got hit by a blast and thrown to the ground.

Luckily, we didn’t hit any concrete, but as we pushed ourselves off the ground again there was a humming sound in the air, and it was coming closer by the second. Erec stiffened next to me and crouched as if he prepared for an attack. Allowing my gut feeling to take over, I steadied myself for a better stand, still not sure what to expect as a dark figure emerged from the shadow in front of us and manifested into a tall creature.

“So, have you finally found your little girl friend?” teased a dark voice. “And was it worth getting banned for her?” the voice grew deeper “Did you enjoy your time together?” And deeper until it was a dark ripple in the night that melted with the shadows “Because I’m going to end it now.”

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Just a bit more than 2 weeks and Camp NaNoWriMo July 2014 will be over. I was thinking about participating actively again, but skipped it since it probably would have ended in the same way like my other NaNo attempts. With another abandoned story.

In November 2013 I started off enthusiastically with my very first NaNoWriMo project, Bruno the Zombie. Having a high aim – 50.000 words – right in front of my nose I typed away for a few days. Way too soon I realized that I don’t even have the structure to reach the first 10k.

Not only did I miss the structure, but the story itself. Where was my story line? What was I actually writing about?

When I started NaNo, I started with an idea and managed to build a little story around it. But nothing more. Had I been able to reach the 50k with that idea just by trying to somehow wing it? No. Did this realization give me a boost to sit down and actually build a story? An outline? No. It only discouraged me and I abandoned it by 6.087 official words, and moving from Germany to the UK in exactly that November just added another excuse at to why I wouldn’t even have the time to continue.

of ‘Bruno the Zombie’ finished

Then came April’s Camp NaNoWriMo and the prospect of a flexible word count and a different NaNo format let my creativity reach new highs. So I set my goal to 20.000 words and adapted the Snowflake Method, hoping it would make it all so much easier.

Indeed, the Snowflake Method did make it easier. Hell, yeah! It was wonderful! It gave me a feeling for my story and where I wanted it to head, but it also showed me where I lack practice and patience. Eventually, I realized I didn’t write enough in the Snowflake Method – or if you prefer, I didn’t outline enough. I didn’t spend enough time with my story to get to know its depth and potential.

Instead, I just squeezed my “main text” into the outline and soon got frustrated when the holes in my story grew bigger and bigger. Eventually, I abandoned it by 5.834 official words, and just like the November NaNo story didn’t touch it since. Moving from the UK to Ireland by the end of April/beginning of May was just another perfect excuse to do so.

of ‘The Lion Tribe’ finished

As the next NaNo Camp in July came, I ignored everything related to it until I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling anymore. What had happened to my stories? I kicked them away. I turned my back on them. I abandoned them, and apparently for good.

Did they deserve this? No.
So what now?

I will continue writing them. In my own time and without a word count goal. Might sound a bit lame, but I think, if I continue and deepen the stories with the Snowflake Method – jup, I really liked this approach – then it will be worth it :)

Aaccording to my notes it shouldn’t have been too far anymore. Maybe another day or two and I would have been able to hold the map in my hands, if I would have gotten rid of my shadows before. But of course, I didn’t.

They caught up with me the other morning, though I still don’t know how they did it. There was nothing in this dead area you could use to travel faster. Maybe they simply traveled more and rested less. In the end, it doesn’t matter. My head still hurts from the branch they used to knock me out. It has sobbed for three days straight and I had to lie down most of the time since otherwise I would have thrown up. And I don’t like to throw up.

I also didn’t like to be in this situation. They had thrown me into a dark and spooky cave, thinking I was dead, but in the end I just got incredibly bored. There is nothing here to look at. It could have been worse though, I know, but I really hate being bored. They will have to pay for this, and for the lost time.

So, I guess it’s about time to fill my dizzy mind with some fresh air and hunt them down, their trail isn’t too old yet, and they should have known better. The map is mine and I don’t intent to share.

to be continued …

I wrote this piece as a flash fiction story and found it’s a fitting beginning for a story I started quite some time ago. This was really exciting since I kinda abandoned the story a bit, having no idea where I should take it. But now I know, so keep an eye out for the upcoming installments ;)

Writing makes me happy.

This might be a very simple statement, but it’s just how it is. And like pretty much everything in life, it’s not steady.

The Tropics (1)Sometimes it feels like a torture and I so don’t want to write anything at all then, but in the end – when I do start to write – it feels so much better. It calms me down and feeds the hungry animal inside me that was raging about something stupid non stop.

And then you have the other days, where you desperately want to write because it’s one of those days where you really need to put it on the paper no matter what, but you can’t. It’s not that you are not able to write, it’s more the environment. You feel disturbed, restless or someone just keeps popping in at the wrong moment. In the end you write nothing on that day and probably go to bed quite frustrated.

I guess, a regular writing life is just like this. At least it’s like this for me. It’s like a rainbow, just that I see way more often. I know, sounds funny, but the basic idea is that it comes and goes in all its beautiful colors right after the rain. The air is fresh and clean and you can see it drawn into the sky. Just like writing. It comes with all its words in call colors and forms, and mostly after a rainy day.

Having seen a double rainbow this week made me smile, and wonder: What’s behind the rainbow?

  • It’s a secret place where all my fantasy goes when I’m to occupied with life to be creative.
  • It’s where unicorns get chased by Leprechauns because they got to close to their gold.
  • It’s where stars have big round eyes and like to tell stories about the world they have been watching for eon of years.
  • It’s where the big bad wolf has tea with the roundest and fluffiest sheep in the world to discuss knitting techniques.
  • It’s where my creativity has its happy place.
  • It makes me write.
  • It makes me happy.
  • It’s where I am.

What behind your rainbow? Does it make you write and/or happy?

Aa figure in a red hoodie steps out of the dark alley holding a golden dagger close to her chest. It reflects the last rays of sunlight and the figure pulls the hoodie from her head, revealing a pale face with big green eyes and full red lips surrounded by long curled brown hair. She looks at the dagger for a few seconds then wipes the still bloody tip over her trousers and puts it back into its sheath. Taking a deep breath, she starts walking again dragging a big, black creature behind her. It slurs over the sidewalk, leaving a long red trace.

As she picks up the speed, the black creature bounces off the sidewalk and eventually flies right behind her. Running, she skitters around a corner and into the next dark alley. She has to take care of her game as long as it’s still fresh.

Arriving at her house, she hangs the black creature by its legs to bleed out. She would skin it later.

“Nice catch.” A fragile voice says behind her.
“It can’t always be the big bad wolf who gets a bite out of us.” Little red riding hood says, turning around to face her grinning grandmother.