This one is something I'm actually writing on the fly right now. It's rough, but I got the idea for the story the other day, and my mind keeps going back to the idea, wanting to do more than just the base idea. I've heard that to become a better writer, one must write. So here I write, for no one but myself.
The room appears blurry to Marylin as she wearily opens her eyes, well as she attempts to open her eyes. She can feel her face starting to swell. Sighing, she thinks that so much is the pain and inconvienence of staying beautiful. She had to get that doll of a husband to pull a couple strings in order to get this plastic surgeon to do her surgery in time for her to heal before the charity ball. Doctor Johanson is the best plastic surgeon on the West coast, and almost impossible to see this time of year. But a friend of dear Husbands, was a golf partner to Doctor Johanson's gay lover or something odd like that. She didn't care, she just wanted this work done. Marylin began planning her next steps for once the swelling went down. Her appointment with her personal trainer was in a week, so that she could take off those impossible two pounds from her stomach and ass. She wanted her waist trim and her ass as firm as a 20 year old's in 3 months. She has been told that she already looked great for a 40 year old, HAH, shows them what they know, she was actually 60. She considered having Doctor Johanson doing another ass lift and lipo, but he refused, saying he couldn't possibly fit it into his schedule as well as the other proceedures. "Well, damn it! Nurse! Get me out of here! I've got an appointment in 2 hours!" The nurse in pastel pink scrubs hurrys to Marylin's bed-side. "Ms. Londin, please, just take it easy for about another 20 minutes, and ... " "Damn it, bitch, I want to my room NOW." "Yes ma'am, I'll call the doctor right away to transfer you to your room" the nurse hastily replied, as she turned and ran off to the other side of the recovery ward and hastily dialed a number.
Within an hour and a half, Marlyin was waiting in front of the posh clinic, waiting for her limo driver to pull around. As she enters the limo, she yells at the driver, "Go to the Anastasia Star Spa, NOW! My appointment is in less than an hour now, and with this damned traffic..." and her voice becomes muffled as the limo door is shut and the car speeds away. She was scheduled next to have a new treatment made from some crazy assed, slime from a sea cucumber that was only found in the tropical oceans off Brazil, combined with mango and citrus, it was supposed to do wonders for post operative swelling and make your skin as soft as a baby's. She didn't care where the hell it came from, it made her look better. She didn't care that her dear Husband was paying 10 grand for it each month. All the stars were having it and since it was the best, it was hers. Sighing she mentally goes over her schedule for today. Next, she was to go to another room here at the spa for spot laser treatments for a couple odd colored patches on her knee, then to soak in a hot mud bath to finally get some realxing time from all of these slow peons. And of course, her waxist is going to be at her house later this afternoon, to do a touch up on her bikini line. So much she does to be the perfect model wife for dear husband. Too bad, he most of the time screwed half the state except for her. Oh well she thought. "As long as he keeps her comfortable, and pays for my surgeries and treatments, I don't give a damn who he fucks." Marilyn mumbles. Once at the spa, she is placed in a room with a large table where she is covered head to toe with a slime, except for the tiny sunbathing type goggles. She lies back, and relaxes for a while. "Marilyn, it is time to go." A deep masculine voice eminates from the corner of the room. "I just got here, you crazy ass. Get the hell out of my room unless you want me to talk with the owner about your employment here." The voice responds, "I'm not an employee here, I am Death." 'Oh, please... SECURITY!!" Marilyn screams as she sits up, opens her eyes, and she realizes, her body is still on the table. The technicians won't be due back for at least half an hour. "Scream all you want, but they won't hear you", Death replied. "I-I can't be dead... I just have the rivoplast treatment to rebuild my heart tissue, two years ago, I had the treatment to reverse aging in my.. " "You didn't die of old age... but while your body may look young, your soul is old, wrinkled and sickly. It calls for me to take it away for the great rest." "Technically, your body had a deadly reaction to a chemical compound that formed between the anestheisia from your recent surgery, the material they just slimed you with, and the speed that is left over in your body from last week." "But, I have a better body than most people half my age." Marilyn protested. "It is your time. You squandered your time here only looking towards yourself and what you wanted. Meanwhile, your family is gone, you have no children, you husband is in name only and your friends only are your friends because you are in the same social circle. They hiss worse than a pit of vipers behind your back, just like you do with them when one of their backs is turned." "But, what now? Do I go to Hell? Heaven by some miracle?" "No, " Death replies, "You are to learn, rest and return. Your soul will be given another chance, but in your next life, you will not have an easy life. For all of the advantages that you had taken advantage of in this life, you will be disadvantaged in the next. But that is a step that is far away at this point. First, you learn. I shall leave for a while, and when you have learned what you need to know from this life, you will simply advance to the next step, rest. Once that period is over, I shall see you once more to guide you to return." "But now.... " Death placed a cold finger on her forhead, "Learn the consequences of your life."
The temporary end...
More to come. I want to continue on showing what she learns, which is what her "friends", family, and the people around her REALLY thought of her... the good and bad, in this case mostly bad. Then the rest phase. More or less time to contimplate and think about what she did, what she should have done, but she doesn't really know the answers. Once she gets to one point, she thinks she's done all of the resting she can handle, but it continues on, while she makes more realizations about her life. Just when she forgets about to expect the rest to be over, she is greeted again by Death. It seems to be different now. They talk a bit more and discuss things, and he says that the basic grain of truth resides in her forever, but the lessons learned must be wiped away for rebirth. He touches her forehead again, and she is going through birth. She is now a baby in a poor, but loving home. Marilyn's journey is just starting again, and maybe the lessons will be learned this time.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Vacation of the Mind
This is a short story that I've been working on off and on, (mostly off) for a couple years.
A Vacation of the Mind
I wake up lying in the sun on a lounge chair on a bright, sunny deck. I’m disoriented a bit as I look around, but I see a beautiful, sunny beach, and a scattering of buildings. I now have some vague memory of checking in to this posh resort for a vacation. It’s strange, I don’t remember driving here or really planning this trip. Sighing, I put it off to really needing a vacation and sit back into my chair. Around me, I see other resort patrons basking in the sun, with waiters and attendants weaving their way through the crowd of sun-worshippers, stopping here and there with a drink or a towel. With a sigh, I pull my sunglasses back down over my eyes and lie back soaking in some much-wanted sun into my skin.
Before my nap, I now remember taking a quick dip in the ocean, but the water was so cool, I quickly headed back to my chair to warm up in the hot summer sun. I laze about in my chair as I stare out at the waves, ever rolling, and seemingly perfect. It seems odd that the surfers aren’t out. Seems that these waves would be ideal, coming in perfect with tall cresting, rolling waves. I then notice something strange. This is a very warm day, but I don’t see anyone in the water. That’s kind of odd, but I again shrug off the coincidence, because the water was really cool when I took my dip. I stare back out into the waves, and I do a double take, as wave after wave rises, but just short of cresting the waves seem to just change their mind and retreat back down. Again and again, the waves start refusing to break. What’s going on? I shake my head in confusion, rubbing my eyes. I have to be having some sort of delusion. I didn’t think I’d been out here that long. I look around me, and no one else seems to notice the surf’s strange behavior. The waves now are becoming more violent, rising higher and higher, but at the last moment, seemingly changing their mind and declining back and sweeping out onto the beach in a rush of foam. Just as I decide to ask someone about the bizarre phenomenon, I glance up the beach to see if the same behavior is there as well. Dark clouds and fog has gathered up the coast. A storm must be approaching, but as I look out to sea, I see a red glowing sign apparently just hanging in midair. I run to the edge of the deck to get a better view, and I finally can make out the word “EXIT” in the glowing red letters. About this time, a door opens out of midair over the ocean, and a man in scrubs wheels an elderly man in a wheelchair through the door. I see below him there is a blue tile floor, with some cheap fake palm trees on the wall past the door. “What the HELL is going on?” I turn to get someone’s attention and I now see that I am no longer surrounded by resort patrons, lounging in swimsuits and plush robes, but by patients in gowns, pajamas and bathrobes. What I had previously perceived as attendants and waiters are now doctors and nurses wandering through isles of people just sitting in chairs, staring stupefied at a poorly painted picture of the ocean on an old gymnasium wall. That exit sign is the entrance door to the gym and the warming sun is a giant heat lamp hanging overhead. My world spins as the confusion overwhelms me.
I open my eyes, and slowly, my blurry vision reveals to me that I’m now in my suite. I slowly sit up in my bed and then twist my legs so that I’m sitting on the side of the bed. I see my luxurious bed with the softest cotton sheets I’ve ever felt. Plush pillows at the top of the bed are still dented with the impression of my head. I see a note on my nightstand that read:
“Ms.
You passed out from too much sun. The resort physician has seen you and told us that you will be fine, but you need to rest for the day and for you to drink plenty of water. He will be by your room again this afternoon to check on you again. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call the front desk.
Management”
So that’s what happened? Oh my, did I have a heatstroke? I’ll ask the doctor when he comes to check again. It’s so nice to be somewhere where they take such good care of me. I look around my room. I see my bed, which faces the door to this smallish room. Beside the door, I see a small potted palm tree, and then there is a dresser littered with keys, money, and other typical items from my pockets. Past that, is a door leading to my bathroom. On the wall opposite my dresser, there is a large open window where the salty sea breeze is blowing through gauzy curtains. I stretch lazily and walk to the closet, wondering what I shall wear today. I pick out some clothes and turn to put them on the bed while I showered. The bed looks strange now. I don’t remember a hospital bed in my room. A flash of light crosses my eyes, and my world spins again. Now I see that I am in a hospital room. My window is a frosted pane of glass with wire mess imbedded into it. I look into the mirror above my dresser, and my once long dark blonde hair is now haphazardly cut and extremely short, like someone was in a rush to get rid of my hair. Instead of a sleek suntanned complexion I was expecting, I see a pale, scarred face with heavy, dark circles under my eyes. I also notice that I have a large bandage on the back of my head. I turn and now my door is a heavy steel door with several locks on it. I throw my clothes on the bed and grab my stomach from nausea that suddenly overwhelms me. The room spins uncontrollably as the world goes black.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Who the hell is beating so at my door? Don’t they know I was sick and I need my rest? Showers of stars cross my eyes as my head jerks back into the wall. I wince as my legs jerk and feel my feet kick the frame of the bed forward. I realize that I am convulsing, but I can’t stop the jerking movement of my entire body. My eyes go to the door where I can fuzzily see the arms of nurses and doctors trying to push their way into the room. I had evidently fallen and pushed the bed against the door with my convulsions. I fall backwards into a roar of blackness.
A curiously strange, but familiar voice echoes through my inner void, but it feels as though they are speaking some other language that I had forgotten long ago. What are they saying? The words seem so familiar, but I just cannot fathom what they might mean. The blackness around me starts to turn to gray, and I see myself lying on the floor. Voices keep calling me and I feel like I’m falling again, but this time into the spotlighted form of myself lying on the floor.
That uncomprendable voice keeps calling, and I must find it. Who is this? Why are they calling me? I keep searching for the voice and it sounds so close… I gasp as I open my eyes and I feel my body shuddering still in the last throes of the seizures. Now I can finally begin to understand some of the words of the mysterious voice. “Wake up! We have you now.” “It’s OK, It’s OK…” as a hand gently strokes my hair. I can now focus my eyes enough to see a face, just inches from mine. I feel a cold wet wipe swipe my arm and the sting of a needle as it pierces my arm. I see a slight smile of relief as the doctor sees that I am now aware of my surroundings, but is still holding me tightly to keep my still shuddering form from hurting myself. I feel a sting of what feels like a cut above my eye, and several large bruises all over. I sigh as I realize that I can finally control my movements. I lie there for a moment, catching my breath, and the doctor takes the opportunity to let go of me and give some instructions to the nearby nurses. I look around the room briefly and I see that the room is a bizarre mish-mash of resort and hospital. My potted palm is standing next to a steel door with sturdy locks, a hospital bed in front of me with the flowing gauzy curtain drifting in a sea breeze beside me. The nausea and dizziness return in a rush as my eyes roll back in my head. As my mind slides into the dark abyss again, I feel my body jerking again, and I hear “We got to remove the device from her brain. She’s rejecting it and it’s killing her….”
THE END FOR NOW……….
A Vacation of the Mind
I wake up lying in the sun on a lounge chair on a bright, sunny deck. I’m disoriented a bit as I look around, but I see a beautiful, sunny beach, and a scattering of buildings. I now have some vague memory of checking in to this posh resort for a vacation. It’s strange, I don’t remember driving here or really planning this trip. Sighing, I put it off to really needing a vacation and sit back into my chair. Around me, I see other resort patrons basking in the sun, with waiters and attendants weaving their way through the crowd of sun-worshippers, stopping here and there with a drink or a towel. With a sigh, I pull my sunglasses back down over my eyes and lie back soaking in some much-wanted sun into my skin.
Before my nap, I now remember taking a quick dip in the ocean, but the water was so cool, I quickly headed back to my chair to warm up in the hot summer sun. I laze about in my chair as I stare out at the waves, ever rolling, and seemingly perfect. It seems odd that the surfers aren’t out. Seems that these waves would be ideal, coming in perfect with tall cresting, rolling waves. I then notice something strange. This is a very warm day, but I don’t see anyone in the water. That’s kind of odd, but I again shrug off the coincidence, because the water was really cool when I took my dip. I stare back out into the waves, and I do a double take, as wave after wave rises, but just short of cresting the waves seem to just change their mind and retreat back down. Again and again, the waves start refusing to break. What’s going on? I shake my head in confusion, rubbing my eyes. I have to be having some sort of delusion. I didn’t think I’d been out here that long. I look around me, and no one else seems to notice the surf’s strange behavior. The waves now are becoming more violent, rising higher and higher, but at the last moment, seemingly changing their mind and declining back and sweeping out onto the beach in a rush of foam. Just as I decide to ask someone about the bizarre phenomenon, I glance up the beach to see if the same behavior is there as well. Dark clouds and fog has gathered up the coast. A storm must be approaching, but as I look out to sea, I see a red glowing sign apparently just hanging in midair. I run to the edge of the deck to get a better view, and I finally can make out the word “EXIT” in the glowing red letters. About this time, a door opens out of midair over the ocean, and a man in scrubs wheels an elderly man in a wheelchair through the door. I see below him there is a blue tile floor, with some cheap fake palm trees on the wall past the door. “What the HELL is going on?” I turn to get someone’s attention and I now see that I am no longer surrounded by resort patrons, lounging in swimsuits and plush robes, but by patients in gowns, pajamas and bathrobes. What I had previously perceived as attendants and waiters are now doctors and nurses wandering through isles of people just sitting in chairs, staring stupefied at a poorly painted picture of the ocean on an old gymnasium wall. That exit sign is the entrance door to the gym and the warming sun is a giant heat lamp hanging overhead. My world spins as the confusion overwhelms me.
I open my eyes, and slowly, my blurry vision reveals to me that I’m now in my suite. I slowly sit up in my bed and then twist my legs so that I’m sitting on the side of the bed. I see my luxurious bed with the softest cotton sheets I’ve ever felt. Plush pillows at the top of the bed are still dented with the impression of my head. I see a note on my nightstand that read:
“Ms.
You passed out from too much sun. The resort physician has seen you and told us that you will be fine, but you need to rest for the day and for you to drink plenty of water. He will be by your room again this afternoon to check on you again. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call the front desk.
Management”
So that’s what happened? Oh my, did I have a heatstroke? I’ll ask the doctor when he comes to check again. It’s so nice to be somewhere where they take such good care of me. I look around my room. I see my bed, which faces the door to this smallish room. Beside the door, I see a small potted palm tree, and then there is a dresser littered with keys, money, and other typical items from my pockets. Past that, is a door leading to my bathroom. On the wall opposite my dresser, there is a large open window where the salty sea breeze is blowing through gauzy curtains. I stretch lazily and walk to the closet, wondering what I shall wear today. I pick out some clothes and turn to put them on the bed while I showered. The bed looks strange now. I don’t remember a hospital bed in my room. A flash of light crosses my eyes, and my world spins again. Now I see that I am in a hospital room. My window is a frosted pane of glass with wire mess imbedded into it. I look into the mirror above my dresser, and my once long dark blonde hair is now haphazardly cut and extremely short, like someone was in a rush to get rid of my hair. Instead of a sleek suntanned complexion I was expecting, I see a pale, scarred face with heavy, dark circles under my eyes. I also notice that I have a large bandage on the back of my head. I turn and now my door is a heavy steel door with several locks on it. I throw my clothes on the bed and grab my stomach from nausea that suddenly overwhelms me. The room spins uncontrollably as the world goes black.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Who the hell is beating so at my door? Don’t they know I was sick and I need my rest? Showers of stars cross my eyes as my head jerks back into the wall. I wince as my legs jerk and feel my feet kick the frame of the bed forward. I realize that I am convulsing, but I can’t stop the jerking movement of my entire body. My eyes go to the door where I can fuzzily see the arms of nurses and doctors trying to push their way into the room. I had evidently fallen and pushed the bed against the door with my convulsions. I fall backwards into a roar of blackness.
A curiously strange, but familiar voice echoes through my inner void, but it feels as though they are speaking some other language that I had forgotten long ago. What are they saying? The words seem so familiar, but I just cannot fathom what they might mean. The blackness around me starts to turn to gray, and I see myself lying on the floor. Voices keep calling me and I feel like I’m falling again, but this time into the spotlighted form of myself lying on the floor.
That uncomprendable voice keeps calling, and I must find it. Who is this? Why are they calling me? I keep searching for the voice and it sounds so close… I gasp as I open my eyes and I feel my body shuddering still in the last throes of the seizures. Now I can finally begin to understand some of the words of the mysterious voice. “Wake up! We have you now.” “It’s OK, It’s OK…” as a hand gently strokes my hair. I can now focus my eyes enough to see a face, just inches from mine. I feel a cold wet wipe swipe my arm and the sting of a needle as it pierces my arm. I see a slight smile of relief as the doctor sees that I am now aware of my surroundings, but is still holding me tightly to keep my still shuddering form from hurting myself. I feel a sting of what feels like a cut above my eye, and several large bruises all over. I sigh as I realize that I can finally control my movements. I lie there for a moment, catching my breath, and the doctor takes the opportunity to let go of me and give some instructions to the nearby nurses. I look around the room briefly and I see that the room is a bizarre mish-mash of resort and hospital. My potted palm is standing next to a steel door with sturdy locks, a hospital bed in front of me with the flowing gauzy curtain drifting in a sea breeze beside me. The nausea and dizziness return in a rush as my eyes roll back in my head. As my mind slides into the dark abyss again, I feel my body jerking again, and I hear “We got to remove the device from her brain. She’s rejecting it and it’s killing her….”
THE END FOR NOW……….
Monday, March 17, 2008
Character development
Sorcerer - They would slowly discover their ability, initially by being able to do simple cantrips by just thinking or small motions with their hands. A strange word would sometimes just pop into their head, and they'd whisper it without even realizing it. Shortly after they start out on the journeymanship, the sorcerer realizes they can do more powerful spells, but they realize that the more powerful the spell the longer it takes to figure it out, and the more practice it takes before they can make it work like they imagine it should.
Ranger - They've hunted all their life practically and know their way around the woods. Has been on hunting forays alone for the last couple years, each time daring to venture farther and farther if he wished. Part of their journey to adulthood is to learn to trust in others. They have always had to rely on mostly themselves to do what needed to be done. Now they have to realize that you can not do everything. Another obstacle that she must overcome is making the guys realize that she does know what she's doing when it comes to the wilderness. She is quite knowledgeable for her age when it comes to surviving in the woods.
Fighter - muscular, slightly above average intelligence, but for the most part very shy. Part of his journey to adulthood is learning to go for what he believes in, to not shy away if it's something that he really believes needs to be done. Before it's over with, they tend to be the leadership of the party, because he thinks wisely before running into battle. If he came to a negotiation before a battle, if he felt he was not a significantly good at negotiating, he would bring someone who would be.
Cleric - a bit ditzy, but essentially they have a good heart. They have to learn that there may be a time for recreation, but if there are important matters at hand, recreation must be placed firmly on hold. Not enough to not enjoy friends and good company, but knowing how to place limits on recreation when there is need to.
Ranger - They've hunted all their life practically and know their way around the woods. Has been on hunting forays alone for the last couple years, each time daring to venture farther and farther if he wished. Part of their journey to adulthood is to learn to trust in others. They have always had to rely on mostly themselves to do what needed to be done. Now they have to realize that you can not do everything. Another obstacle that she must overcome is making the guys realize that she does know what she's doing when it comes to the wilderness. She is quite knowledgeable for her age when it comes to surviving in the woods.
Fighter - muscular, slightly above average intelligence, but for the most part very shy. Part of his journey to adulthood is learning to go for what he believes in, to not shy away if it's something that he really believes needs to be done. Before it's over with, they tend to be the leadership of the party, because he thinks wisely before running into battle. If he came to a negotiation before a battle, if he felt he was not a significantly good at negotiating, he would bring someone who would be.
Cleric - a bit ditzy, but essentially they have a good heart. They have to learn that there may be a time for recreation, but if there are important matters at hand, recreation must be placed firmly on hold. Not enough to not enjoy friends and good company, but knowing how to place limits on recreation when there is need to.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Roses of the Dawn... character ideas
Here are a few ideas of the main characters. I'm not sure at this point if I'll be going with 3 or 4 characters to begin with. I might have more characters join later, some or the originals may go away, settle down, etc. But this will follow the core people, basically the fighter and the sorcerer.
The fighter - I'm uncertain at this point on it this character will be male or female. Either way, they will have been raised with only their father. Their father is the village smith. He does the expected type of tasks in a village situation, such as shoe horses, make hinges, makes other tools and implements needed from iron. His child has always been there to help him since they were strong enough to pick up a tool. His child is growing up fast, and the time for his journeymanship is comming soon. The smith will miss his trusted assistant, but it is time to let them go.
The sorcerer - Basically is a skinny little rat that is always into mischief. One day, they notice strange things sometimes happen when they think about doing things. For example, (s)he was going to close the door behind herself once (s)he brought in a basket of vegetables for (her)his mother. They turn and start to reach for the door, and the door starts to close itself. With a little pushing motion, the door does close. At first, it made ya kinda woozy headed, but the more he did that, the more he wanted to do it. Slowly, they found that they could do the door close thing 3 or 4 times before getting light headed. One night, he was having a bad dream, and sat up with a start, and a light was shining above his/her bed. It was no lantern or candle, just a glowing orb, that slowly faded away to nothingness after a few minutes. The more and more he used his magic, the more he wanted it, craved it. It was exausting, but so thrilling at the same time.
The cleric - they are the middle child of the local herbalist and carpenter. Her mother instilled into her and her siblings the love of the woods. They have also been taught a goodly portion their mother's extensive knowledge of herb lore since the day they were born. One day she was out in the forrest just to the east of town, gathering herbs and mushrooms her mother needed. She was in no rush to finish her task on such a beautiful day, and as usual, was just wandering around the wood, looking, learning and exploring the wood around her. She found a wonderfully sunny patch of the softest grass you'd ever see. She was suddenly sooooo drowsy, so she stopped to take just a short nap. Seemingly as soon as she closed her eyes, she was dreaming, and a magnificent creature appeared before her. He told her that she had been called into the service of Obahad Hi, if she chose to accept the calling, that she would only simply need to start wearing this. In his hand, was what seemed like at first a piece of knotted and knarled wood, but upon closer inspection, she saw that there was a face in that wood of the man of the woods, Obadad-hi. If she chose to follow him, go into the woods, back to this same place and she would be instructed on what she needed to know. When she awoke, she first expected it to only be a bizare dream, but yet, in her hand, the piece of gnarled wood was in her fist. At first the girl didn't know what to do. She had always thought that she would just either take up her mother's craft, either helping here or another village nearby, but to become a cleric? Obviously, she chooses to become a cleric, but does she keep doing so? Does she like it? I was also thinking of this girl also possibly having a slight addiction that develops into a deleima. She loves her mushrooms. Her mother also uses the mushrooms, but only when she goes on vision quests on important days, but this girl find that she enjoys the high from the mushrooms more than she should, and she begins to neglect her diety and her friends and family. Part of the story is the consequences of her action. Maybe someone dies that she cares for, or she is maybe even kicked out of the clericy for a while till she straightens up.
The last character, I was planning on having either a ranger or a druid. I thought that that would be someone that the characters could go to to help them survive early on in the wild. I'm leaning toward ranger, and this ranger be apprenticing in leather working and tanning. He hunts, and kills, skins and tans the hide, then makes it into something.
Well, I've got to go. The kids are sick tonight.
The fighter - I'm uncertain at this point on it this character will be male or female. Either way, they will have been raised with only their father. Their father is the village smith. He does the expected type of tasks in a village situation, such as shoe horses, make hinges, makes other tools and implements needed from iron. His child has always been there to help him since they were strong enough to pick up a tool. His child is growing up fast, and the time for his journeymanship is comming soon. The smith will miss his trusted assistant, but it is time to let them go.
The sorcerer - Basically is a skinny little rat that is always into mischief. One day, they notice strange things sometimes happen when they think about doing things. For example, (s)he was going to close the door behind herself once (s)he brought in a basket of vegetables for (her)his mother. They turn and start to reach for the door, and the door starts to close itself. With a little pushing motion, the door does close. At first, it made ya kinda woozy headed, but the more he did that, the more he wanted to do it. Slowly, they found that they could do the door close thing 3 or 4 times before getting light headed. One night, he was having a bad dream, and sat up with a start, and a light was shining above his/her bed. It was no lantern or candle, just a glowing orb, that slowly faded away to nothingness after a few minutes. The more and more he used his magic, the more he wanted it, craved it. It was exausting, but so thrilling at the same time.
The cleric - they are the middle child of the local herbalist and carpenter. Her mother instilled into her and her siblings the love of the woods. They have also been taught a goodly portion their mother's extensive knowledge of herb lore since the day they were born. One day she was out in the forrest just to the east of town, gathering herbs and mushrooms her mother needed. She was in no rush to finish her task on such a beautiful day, and as usual, was just wandering around the wood, looking, learning and exploring the wood around her. She found a wonderfully sunny patch of the softest grass you'd ever see. She was suddenly sooooo drowsy, so she stopped to take just a short nap. Seemingly as soon as she closed her eyes, she was dreaming, and a magnificent creature appeared before her. He told her that she had been called into the service of Obahad Hi, if she chose to accept the calling, that she would only simply need to start wearing this. In his hand, was what seemed like at first a piece of knotted and knarled wood, but upon closer inspection, she saw that there was a face in that wood of the man of the woods, Obadad-hi. If she chose to follow him, go into the woods, back to this same place and she would be instructed on what she needed to know. When she awoke, she first expected it to only be a bizare dream, but yet, in her hand, the piece of gnarled wood was in her fist. At first the girl didn't know what to do. She had always thought that she would just either take up her mother's craft, either helping here or another village nearby, but to become a cleric? Obviously, she chooses to become a cleric, but does she keep doing so? Does she like it? I was also thinking of this girl also possibly having a slight addiction that develops into a deleima. She loves her mushrooms. Her mother also uses the mushrooms, but only when she goes on vision quests on important days, but this girl find that she enjoys the high from the mushrooms more than she should, and she begins to neglect her diety and her friends and family. Part of the story is the consequences of her action. Maybe someone dies that she cares for, or she is maybe even kicked out of the clericy for a while till she straightens up.
The last character, I was planning on having either a ranger or a druid. I thought that that would be someone that the characters could go to to help them survive early on in the wild. I'm leaning toward ranger, and this ranger be apprenticing in leather working and tanning. He hunts, and kills, skins and tans the hide, then makes it into something.
Well, I've got to go. The kids are sick tonight.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
My epic... Roses of the Dawn
I have an idea for I guess you'd have to call it an epic novel, or series of novels. Basically it is a story of a group of kids that live in a magical world of swords and sorcery.... too bad they rarely have ever seen a sword, and sorcery? HAH! Half the town thinks it's a storyteller's dream. They've heard of magic, but very few if any have actually seen it.
This area is a fairly remote village called Rosenford, deep in the foothills of (insert country name here). A tradition in this area is that the teens learn the basics of life from their families, then at a certain age, they set out into the world for a time. The teens either go to a neighboring town or city and learn more in a trade they already know some of, or they learn a new trade, or they can even just go out into the big, bad world to see what's out there. This trip is called the (I have yet to name it), and once the children return, they are no longer thought of as children. It is a rite of adulthood that all children do. If they cannot perform this task, they are valued as incompentent and never can claim the benefits of adulthood, like, for example, they will not have a voice to speak and vote in the councils. Sometimes, the children leave and never return, some are gone only a couple weeks, but in general, the children are gone for at least 6-9 months, more often a year. Sometimes they come back with fiancee's, sometimes children in tow. You never know until they return. The children tend to wait till there are at least a couple of others to go with them, for there are many dangers out there. Sometimes, if the child can arrange safe passage, or they are a stubbornly indepenant soul, they venture out on their own. But it is nice having someone to watch your back while traveling.
This idea has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time, and I have a notebook of ideas and things I would like to include. However, I have several questions I'm trying to resolve at this point.
1) Where should I begin the story? Should I start several months or even years before they set out, in order to give background on the characters and the local areas? I'm leaning towards starting the story about a month or so before the set out. That will give me a chapter or so of set up time before the kids head out.
2) What would be my hook for getting them started in the adventuring biz? Why would they keep adventuring instead of just going back to their trades (that they know that they can make at least a small wage at)?
3) How would they get their basic equipment? As in basic arms and armor? I know some they would accumulate piecemeal along the way for a while. At first, they would have to fall back on their craft/profession during the winter months, just to have enough money to survive.
4) What types of creatures could they fight against that a) haven't been overused, (like orcs) and b) wouldn't grossly overpower the beginners that have just begun to learn to fight, probably have little to no armor, and few good weapons, with alot of improvisation for the first while?
5) I know I want at least one female in the group. She is going to start out being a little bit ditzy, a little bit dependant on the guy(s) that she's with, but before it's all said and done, she'll bail them out more than once. But my question here is, should I have a one to one ratio of boys to girls? or more or less? And slightly related to this, is should I have just 4 adventurers? or more or less?
6) Some initial characters that I have been thinking about are: a) a fighter - he, or she maybe?, would be the only child of the local blacksmith. They would be strong because they would be helping their father all day long, between working with the bellows, and learning the smithing trade, they stay lean with well muscled arms. b) sorceress ? - I was thinking this might be the only girl, if there was only a girl. I'm not sure though. In alot of the game groups that I've been in and read about, the girl is kindof defaulted to some sort of magic user. Do I want to change this up? It could also be a guy. Maybe bookwormish, but it could be someone whom is a little more "macho", but they fight agains even wanting to acknowlege their sorcerous abilities. c) cleric? I was thinking that a cleric would be VERY helpful in a low level group like this. The group is basically starting out as 0 levels esseintally, advancing to 1st when they acknowledge to themselves that they do like this kind of stuff. d) I was also thinking of putting either a druid or a ranger type in the mix. The area is a pretty remote village, and I think the druid or ranger would be the most easily fitted for being from this original area.
7) How detailed would I need to go into fleshing out the rest of the village? Only the people with whom the main characters come into contact with regularly? Even then, do I just come up with a name and physical description? or do I go all out and tell how them and the main character has a long standing feud, because they stole an apple when they were 6 and blamed it on the other, and the other got severly punished for it?
8) How detailed to I need to describe the village? and it's surroundings? How do I inject that this is here, the closest village is 2 days walk to the East, or about a day's ride? The mountains really begin about a 2 days ride west of here? They are technically in the foothills of the mountains. In and beyond the mountains they know are all sort of magical beasties, and creatures. The only people that dare venture out to the west are some few brave traders, and some trappers. The trappers know to leave some areas alone, because they are either elf territory, or because of weird things happen for no reason there.
9) What would keep them adventuring? The need to earn quick and easy money? Why wouldn't they just revert back (and stay that way) to their old craft? Would there be a re-occuring evil NPC that would keep them going back for more? Would there be a greater overall task that they need to accomplish?
10) What POV would need to be used? From one of the characters? From varying characters? From a third party/storyteller/narrator? Should I show from the baddies' point of view?
11) I'm trying to come up with ideas that haven't been done a million times, but it something new and refreshing. For example, I would like to put a focus on the kids growing up into adults, with the stresses and the thrills of the adventuring being the enzyme of their assention into adulthood. For example, I don't want to start the book off with a group of orcs or similar attacking one of the party member's families farms. That was done in WoT series, it was done in Eragon series, and even done in a couple others that I am not going to look the titles up on at this moment. I don't want to follow the same gender/class rules that dominate alot of the gaming groups. It's not going to be an all male group, and it's not going to have the males being all macho and manly, and the girls being girlie and needing saving. And also, the guys might want to go whoring, but if they do, they will be likely to either find themselves needing a cure disease cast upon them, or they might either wake up naked and broke with all their possesions stolen, or wake up in an alleyway with the crap beat out of them and their money gone.
I have so many ideas, but I just want my story to be different. I want to show the world that females can be strong characters, but not overwhelming characters. That things do happen between the characters while they sit around at night. They might just sit and eat, but then again, one might just take a tumble with another character.
More to come... but I've got to go get some sleep.
K@
This area is a fairly remote village called Rosenford, deep in the foothills of (insert country name here). A tradition in this area is that the teens learn the basics of life from their families, then at a certain age, they set out into the world for a time. The teens either go to a neighboring town or city and learn more in a trade they already know some of, or they learn a new trade, or they can even just go out into the big, bad world to see what's out there. This trip is called the (I have yet to name it), and once the children return, they are no longer thought of as children. It is a rite of adulthood that all children do. If they cannot perform this task, they are valued as incompentent and never can claim the benefits of adulthood, like, for example, they will not have a voice to speak and vote in the councils. Sometimes, the children leave and never return, some are gone only a couple weeks, but in general, the children are gone for at least 6-9 months, more often a year. Sometimes they come back with fiancee's, sometimes children in tow. You never know until they return. The children tend to wait till there are at least a couple of others to go with them, for there are many dangers out there. Sometimes, if the child can arrange safe passage, or they are a stubbornly indepenant soul, they venture out on their own. But it is nice having someone to watch your back while traveling.
This idea has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time, and I have a notebook of ideas and things I would like to include. However, I have several questions I'm trying to resolve at this point.
1) Where should I begin the story? Should I start several months or even years before they set out, in order to give background on the characters and the local areas? I'm leaning towards starting the story about a month or so before the set out. That will give me a chapter or so of set up time before the kids head out.
2) What would be my hook for getting them started in the adventuring biz? Why would they keep adventuring instead of just going back to their trades (that they know that they can make at least a small wage at)?
3) How would they get their basic equipment? As in basic arms and armor? I know some they would accumulate piecemeal along the way for a while. At first, they would have to fall back on their craft/profession during the winter months, just to have enough money to survive.
4) What types of creatures could they fight against that a) haven't been overused, (like orcs) and b) wouldn't grossly overpower the beginners that have just begun to learn to fight, probably have little to no armor, and few good weapons, with alot of improvisation for the first while?
5) I know I want at least one female in the group. She is going to start out being a little bit ditzy, a little bit dependant on the guy(s) that she's with, but before it's all said and done, she'll bail them out more than once. But my question here is, should I have a one to one ratio of boys to girls? or more or less? And slightly related to this, is should I have just 4 adventurers? or more or less?
6) Some initial characters that I have been thinking about are: a) a fighter - he, or she maybe?, would be the only child of the local blacksmith. They would be strong because they would be helping their father all day long, between working with the bellows, and learning the smithing trade, they stay lean with well muscled arms. b) sorceress ? - I was thinking this might be the only girl, if there was only a girl. I'm not sure though. In alot of the game groups that I've been in and read about, the girl is kindof defaulted to some sort of magic user. Do I want to change this up? It could also be a guy. Maybe bookwormish, but it could be someone whom is a little more "macho", but they fight agains even wanting to acknowlege their sorcerous abilities. c) cleric? I was thinking that a cleric would be VERY helpful in a low level group like this. The group is basically starting out as 0 levels esseintally, advancing to 1st when they acknowledge to themselves that they do like this kind of stuff. d) I was also thinking of putting either a druid or a ranger type in the mix. The area is a pretty remote village, and I think the druid or ranger would be the most easily fitted for being from this original area.
7) How detailed would I need to go into fleshing out the rest of the village? Only the people with whom the main characters come into contact with regularly? Even then, do I just come up with a name and physical description? or do I go all out and tell how them and the main character has a long standing feud, because they stole an apple when they were 6 and blamed it on the other, and the other got severly punished for it?
8) How detailed to I need to describe the village? and it's surroundings? How do I inject that this is here, the closest village is 2 days walk to the East, or about a day's ride? The mountains really begin about a 2 days ride west of here? They are technically in the foothills of the mountains. In and beyond the mountains they know are all sort of magical beasties, and creatures. The only people that dare venture out to the west are some few brave traders, and some trappers. The trappers know to leave some areas alone, because they are either elf territory, or because of weird things happen for no reason there.
9) What would keep them adventuring? The need to earn quick and easy money? Why wouldn't they just revert back (and stay that way) to their old craft? Would there be a re-occuring evil NPC that would keep them going back for more? Would there be a greater overall task that they need to accomplish?
10) What POV would need to be used? From one of the characters? From varying characters? From a third party/storyteller/narrator? Should I show from the baddies' point of view?
11) I'm trying to come up with ideas that haven't been done a million times, but it something new and refreshing. For example, I would like to put a focus on the kids growing up into adults, with the stresses and the thrills of the adventuring being the enzyme of their assention into adulthood. For example, I don't want to start the book off with a group of orcs or similar attacking one of the party member's families farms. That was done in WoT series, it was done in Eragon series, and even done in a couple others that I am not going to look the titles up on at this moment. I don't want to follow the same gender/class rules that dominate alot of the gaming groups. It's not going to be an all male group, and it's not going to have the males being all macho and manly, and the girls being girlie and needing saving. And also, the guys might want to go whoring, but if they do, they will be likely to either find themselves needing a cure disease cast upon them, or they might either wake up naked and broke with all their possesions stolen, or wake up in an alleyway with the crap beat out of them and their money gone.
I have so many ideas, but I just want my story to be different. I want to show the world that females can be strong characters, but not overwhelming characters. That things do happen between the characters while they sit around at night. They might just sit and eat, but then again, one might just take a tumble with another character.
More to come... but I've got to go get some sleep.
K@
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I know nothing of love
I know nothing of love,
The kind that makes your heart sail like a dove,
I once thought that it was true,
But I now know that was nothing that new.
I don’t know anything of love.
I know something of lust,
It’s the thing that drives us not to trust,
On broken promises and lies, ever when it's unwise,
A new way to get their high,
I know something of lust.
K@ March 6, 2008
I know it needs work, but this is just an inital draft.
The kind that makes your heart sail like a dove,
I once thought that it was true,
But I now know that was nothing that new.
I don’t know anything of love.
I know something of lust,
It’s the thing that drives us not to trust,
On broken promises and lies, ever when it's unwise,
A new way to get their high,
I know something of lust.
K@ March 6, 2008
I know it needs work, but this is just an inital draft.
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