Moore Writes #10

Posted by on Mar 31, 2014 in General Chaos | 0 comments

Yes, sweet readers, I’ve been a slacker. This shouldn’t come as news. I blog when the muse moves me, and she’s been a frugal bitch lately. Actually, that’s not really true. I’ve had some wonderful story ideas that I’ve been busily scribbling down. In the last month I have finished, in no particular order, a dark fantasy Christmas story (yes, really), a mermaid story, a secondary world fantasy story, and a steampunk flash fiction story. See, I wasn’t kidding, I’ve been busy! Three out of those four are out on submission right now, and the fourth should go out the door later on this week after a final editing pass.

I’ve also been doing yet another editing pass on Summoner’s Circle, with the intention that I will start agent submissions with that novel no later than April 30th. Finally, I started a science fiction story that I’m really in love with that I like to call “Last of the Mohicans in Space.” I’m not sure how long LotMiS will end up being yet, but I think it has a lot of potential so far.

Since attending Viable Paradise last year, I have received twelve form rejections, one personal rejection, and one acceptance. That’s not a bad ratio, all told! I’m not sure yet if I’m clear to discuss the particulars of my first purchased story, but rest assured as soon as I know, you will too!

Part of the increase in productivity has been my use of GMail’s tasks. I’ve been using it to keep track of my projects and goals since the middle of March and it’s changed everything about my writing life. I can actually see what’s coming! Want a sneak peak? Aside from getting Summoner’s Circle out the door, I’ve got a new novel I’m dying to work on that’s a dystopian. I’m going to revisit a science fiction heist short story called “Optical Occlusion” that has been rejected a couple of times and possibly lengthen it into a novella. I’ve also got a project slated for later on this year with the wonderfully wicked Nikka Michaels that I am SO excited about.

Honestly, I’m so damned proud of the writing I’ve been doing lately that I really want to show you some of it, but I can’t. *sad trombone* Thus is the writer’s burden. Well, one of them, anyway.

That said, I’ve managed to dig up for you something that is not recent, but does feature two of the characters from the dystopian I’m going to start work on soon. Like most of the scenes I write very early in the writing process, this will likely never make it into the actual story, but serves to help me flesh out characters and their relationships.

The boots parked under Andi’s table when she entered her cabin were familiar ones. She held back a relieved sigh and glanced over him before saying anything. He seemed intact and no worse for wear than the last time she’d seen him. His sun-weathered skin and shaggy white-blond hair made him seem older than she thought he was, though he’d never admitted his exact age to her. He had the lean, rangy frame of a man used to demanding physical work and not enough meals. The burn scars on the left half of his face always made her wince, but he insisted they didn’t pain him any longer.

“Been a while, Cole. I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

He looked up from the map in front of him on the table, his eyes a shade of green that reminded her of sea glass. “Too ornery to die.”

She smiled. Despite how weary she was, seeing him always improved her mood. “Thanks for lighting the fire.”

“I figured you’d come back with dinner. The least I could do is warm the place up.” He eyed the gutted rabbits Andi held. “I can start those while you clean up.”

Andi passed him the pair of rabbits and headed to the alcove that housed her bed. She shucked her outdoor garb, hanging the heavy pants and jacket out of the way in the hope they might shed some of the ever-present grit before she had to wear them again. She knew better. They could make a lot of things about their new lives more pleasant, but getting rid of the grit that scoured the world now wasn’t one of them. It invaded everything, digging into every crevice. Some folks said the dust was the ground-up bones of the billions of people that had once walked the Earth, but she didn’t believe that.

She used a handful of water from the basin beside her bed to wash her face, and her survival instincts complained at even that small extravagance. She wiped away the remaining grit with a soft cloth, and then slipped into her lighter house clothes.

She crossed the main room of the cabin again, pausing at the table to look over the map. The paper was yellowed and looked to be near tearing at the folds. Notes in Cole’s cramped handwriting marked several areas of the paper. “What’s this for?”

He responded without turning from his work at the single counter that served as her kitchen. “Same as always.”

So, in summary, 2014 is my year. I’ve put my flag in it and claimed it as my own. I’m good at sharing though, so if you want it too, I’ll let you have some.

Huge hearts and fuzzy puppies,

-C

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