Tag Archives: writing

Walking the Edge that is Adding Mystery

Everything you don’t know is a mystery. Too, mystery adds tension and encourages involvement. Most writers know that so there’s little mystery there. What’s perhaps too often a missed, though, is that it can be a knife-edge walk between being … Continue reading

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Camomile Peace

She sought peace in a time that’d lost its mind, as it was prone to do sometimes. Camomile. Harsh new reality was the old one stripped bare, devoid of people who cared. Camomile. Strange that she was one of the … Continue reading

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Benefits to Worldbuilding Limitations

In the world of fantasy there’s little that’s more central to worldbuilding than the magic system. Now, let’s whittle that down to limitations. To be even more specific, let’s look at how limitations can enhance further worldbuilding and the storytelling … Continue reading

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The One in the Looking Glass

Looking glass, someone like her looking back, holding no judgement, only astonishment. There, in the image, an innocent wound upon her skin. How strange to know it wasn’t innocent at all. Intellectually, she knew the truth, knew it was more … Continue reading

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Novel Openings: Lessons from a Comparison

WARNING: I’m going to shred my own writing. Have I lost my mind? Believe it or not, no. I consider it healthy that I can look at my work with an unfiltered eye. I’m kind and compassionate when critiquing what … Continue reading

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The One Behind the Camera

She took selfies that were something else, that were what she imagined photos would look like if he was taking them. There’d be a quirky smile for him and him alone, a teasing sparkle in her eye, a profound love … Continue reading

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Vistanna

She was the shade, she was the shadow, she harvested the twilight and the sunrise. She was half light, half darkness, existing in a place that was and never was. She wrote upon luminescence, the night sky her instrument, reveling … Continue reading

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Sonata

A clock’s whisper, its pendulum swinging. A candle’s flame dancing, swaying. Sonata Pathétique. Each movement moving my soul, no more need I know. Your touch upon the keys to my heart beating. Fire burning deep, deeper, awaiting release. Waiting, anticipating … Continue reading

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Night Editing

She was editing around encroaching sleep, shifting words on an alphabet sea. Dreams. Visions. Fantasy. The lone surviver in a shipwrecked story, tossing words overboard in allegory. Fogged. Caffeinated. Solitary. How long before her wavering gaze failed to linger? How … Continue reading

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Fabric

Peace. Clock ticking. A stranger clears his throat. Cars pass by. A plane overhead. Clouds, wind-borne, flee twilights end. Incense. Evening tea. Candle casting shadows. The flame gives light, the gesture genuine, not fake. All woven, a fabric, stronger in … Continue reading

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