It’s time to start packing what we need for winter. We don’t call it fall here, but the leaves are starting to turn yellow and fall from the trees. It’s not winter yet, but it will be soon, and it’s going to be a harder and colder winter than the ones that have come before. You can feel the chill in the air, and the fear that is going around. Fear is catching.
Category: On Miscellany
So I haven’t posted anything lately. This is partly because I was caught up in NaNoWriMo (I won, but only by not sticking to a single project, which is still a win in my book) but also because I’ve been distracted by a number of other things. But I’m back! And I have plans.
I can now say that I’ve seen water in a salt lake. It’s an unusual sight, especially as you can’t really venture onto a dry salt lake because there are a whole bunch of grasses, or reeds. Large unwelcoming vegetation. But a few weeks ago, I decided to go for a walk on a fine day that had followed several rainy days, and to my surprise, found the path flooded.
There are quite a few online writing challenges floating around these days. There’s the big one everyone knows about (National Novel Writing Month, aka NaNoWriMo) and there’s also similar ones for short stories (StoryaDay), scripts (WriScriVember), and more. What’s the point of these, you may ask?
Truth time: This is mostly an excuse to link to a story I wrote that was published as part of the Short Fiction Break 2018 Summer Writing Contest, which you can find here. It’s called Trial by Fire and involves a prisoner being offered a chance at freedom … as long as she can pass the trial.
On the other hand, I also have something to say about how I wrote this story, and maybe learnt a lesson from it, although I’m not sure what that lesson was.
I almost exclusively write fantasy and science fiction. I write about things that aren’t real, that couldn’t be real, not in this time or place. I do this because I love to make things up. I’ve been making things up since I was small. As a child, I populated my backyard with fairies, and I populated the school playground with cheese-eating grass-gulls. I didn’t just make things up. I also read about made up stuff. I grew up with Brer Rabbit and Aslan, and I spent my teen years with Harry Potter, Frodo Baggins, and Arthur Dent.
If a tree falls in the forest, and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?
If a story is written, and nobody is there to read it, does it really exist?
If an idea is spoken, and nobody is there to act on it, does it make a difference?
If a life is lived, but never touches another life, did it matter?