by Mayumi-H | Apr 17, 2013 | Persona 4 Fan Fiction, Process
Last Friday’s Free Write Friday prompt from Kellie Elmore was the below photo:
What struck me about the photo was not so much the twister itself or the girl in the foreground, but the way people’s lives can often feel like they’re caught in a storm. And, how lonely that girl’s silhouette is. From nowhere – truly, nowhere, as I am, at the moment, working on three very different stories with nothing to do with the prompt – a scene popped into my head, bright as a bolt of lightning: a young man and young woman hiding together, to be together. It was very conversational but still mostly descriptive of their clandestine affair, which is why I chose not to submit it to the prompt.
The odd part about this story snippet was not the flash of inspiring imagery, or the way these characters felt like familiar ones to me, or even the main conflict fashioned by my brain for why the two of them should meet in secret. Rather, it was the smaller conflict of their histories. Specifically, how religion related to their interaction.
If you think violence or sex are hot-button issues, they’re nothing compared to religion. I don’t even feel very comfortable talking about it, here, because… I don’t know. Because I’m scared, I guess.
Not many readers take issue with crime or violence in stories. It’s part of real life, after all. Sex is a slightly touchier subject, probably because it’s associated with prurience or deviance (which is not always the case, but I think I’ve belabored that point already). Faith, though, is unique to each individual person. Nonetheless, it often feels like we’re treated only to religious extremes, in fiction: fanatics like Margaret White (the mom in Stephen King’s Carrie) or the Republic of Gilead in Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. Given such examples, it’s hardly a wonder that religion often does not play a role in many stories, at least, not a prominent one.
So, why did I take a religious angle for that scene? Mostly, it came from the dialogue. Evidence of their faith sprang, fully formed, from these characters’ mouths. They didn’t preach to me or to each other. They simply were who they were: a mid-western society girl and her working-class, ex-Army boyfriend. Not even their different racial backgrounds featured so prominently in their characterizations as their religious upbringing.
It was weird. Because my own faith is very personal, and I’d never inject those feelings into a story. Not consciously, any way. Sure, religion has had its part. I’ve examined Shinto, but only for the burial rituals and a wedding ceremony; two of my earlier protagonists were Catholic versus Protestant just for a few low-level jabs; I’ve looked at Anglicanism in a broader sense from a social perspective, mostly to counterbalance the dourness of one of my scientific empiricists. But having characters mouth off to each other about church and faith? That was new.
Shrine to World Religions, by Helen (Flickr: Shrine To World Religions) [CC-BY-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons
Have you ever had your characters take you by surprise, about their personal agendas or perspectives?
by Mayumi-H | Apr 6, 2013 | Fearless, Short Stories
This week, Lillie McFerrin’s prompt for her Five Sentence Fiction challenge is “WORDS.”
I went a few different ways with this prompt, at first…though, my initial flash fiction idea – while based on a true story – pushed the vulgarity a bit too much than I like to do for a public challenge. So, this little vignette, taken from the early days of Fearless:
By AstroHurricane001 at en.wikipedia [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
“The loss of artful conversation”
Stretched upon the sand, beneath a canopy of stars, with the rhythm of the rolling current nearby, the lads often turned reflective.
“I think,” Neville mused softly, “with all this technology, and the culture of instant messaging, mankind’s lost the skill of artful conversation, like the poetry that used to exist in the days of Shakespeare, or Milton: what happened to that, where’s all that gone?”
With his head laid in the pillow of Amber’s lap and soothed by both the sound of waves and the gentle drift of her fingers through his hair, Ross hummed, and murmured, “There might be something to that. But,” he added, his gaze finding Amber’s as he opened his eyes again, “for some things, I don’t think you need conversation.”
That settled the lads for a long minute, until Niall sniffed, and declared:
“I’m gonna bring back ‘rad.’”
I’ve spoken on this blog about making art with words before, so I don’t think it needs repeating. I do often wonder, as Neville does, if the immediacy of communication hasn’t taken away some power of words, though. When was the last time we made efforts to write real letters, rather than emails, or instant messages on a phone?
Or, perhaps, I’m just waxing nostalgic, and that old power of lyricism in dialogue has been replaced by something else. What do you think? How do WORDS speak to you?
by Mayumi-H | Apr 3, 2013 | Persona 4 Fan Fiction, Uncategorized
I’m a terrible blogger.
In the last several months, I’ve been nominated for some very sweet awards, and it’s taken me forever to post them! Here they are:
I was nominated for these awards by:
- JM McDowell (Dragon’s Loyalty Award), who runs http://jmmcdowell.com/, a blog filled with good humor, advice, and original stories about her archaeologist mystery-cracker, Meghan Bode;
- Jenny the Wren (Liebster Award), who writes up all kinds of different musings, reviews, and personal stories of life and new-mommyhood over at http://itsjennythewren.wordpress.com/;
- Subhan Zein (Versatile Blogger and Tell Me About Yourself Awards), the talented and soulful writer of short stories, poetic observations, and freedom from the mundane at http://subhanzein.wordpress.com/;
- Summer (Wonderful Readership Award), whose inner peace and graciousness always shine through on her blog, http://summer4soul.wordpress.com/.
Some of these awards come with rules for posting: nominate so many bloggers, tell so many facts about yourself, don’t stop the giving chain. Normally, I’m one to adhere to rules. But, for the purpose of blogging awards, I usually let those rules go.
“The rules are, there ain’t no rules!”
But, for those of you interested, some “facts” about me:
- I like saying I’m an artist, but, really, I’m a jock. I have to exercise every day, or I don’t feel like myself. At school, I competed in Track and Field; the 100-meter dash was my main event, and I anchored our team for the 400-meter relay. I love swimming, and surfing is a relatively new passion. Aside from the sprints, I’m not a great runner, though I often find it centers me. When I’m feeling troubled, there’s not much that can’t be cured by a good, sweaty run!
- I’m Miss Middle-of-the-Road. Maybe it comes from being a Libra, but I’ve always had to look at both sides of a situation. Sometimes, that’s helpful, like when I have to mediate an argument between family or friends. Other times, not so much, as it can cause me to vacillate too long, and opportunities can pass me by!
- I’m not the brightest bulb…but I’m not the dimmest, either. Sports are, by their very nature, competitive, and that competitiveness found its way into other parts of my life. I was always comparing myself to other people: their strengths, their successes, the accolades and adulation. But, for every winner, there has to be a loser. It took a long time for me to understand that losing gracefully can be just as worthwhile as winning graciously. A good thing, since winning is so rare!
- I play favorites. Not among my family (my sister), or for my girls (the older one), but with my characters. Whoever is foremost in my story-writing brain naturally gets privileged child status, of course, but I’ll always have my perennial favorites, too, especially in my fan works.
- Speaking of fan works, there’s nothing wrong with writing what you want, whatever that may be. Fan fiction, open poetry, stream of consciousness diary, historical biography, children’s, drama, sci-fi, horror, terror, thriller, romance, research, religion, comics, smut, slice of life, short fiction, long fiction – it’s all good. Certainly, some of those genres relate more easily to publishing, but always write first for your own passion.
- Lastly, I can only be myself, just like you can only be yourself. Every person has their own conflicts, their own burdens, their own triumphs. The world is a big place; we only ever see a sliver of it. But, just because we don’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. So, be excellent to each other.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7532GXPnO8]
Would you like to pick up one of the above awards? Please, feel free to grab the icon!
If you’re looking for some great bloggers to follow, I advocate the talented ladies and gent above – JM McDowell, Jenny the Wren, Subhan Zein, and Summer – as well as some other blogs and bloggers I always make certain to keep up with:
Many thanks go out to everyone who’s ever followed, liked, or commented on my words and musings.
Happy blogging, everyone!
by Mayumi-H | Mar 16, 2013 | Short Stories, Songbirds
No new original fiction, this week. Instead, an older 100-word post I did on my own, for my Songbirds.
“Alternate Realities”
Armed with an arsenal of books, pamphlets, and websites, Larry thought himself ready for anything Katie might throw at him: from the logistics of gender possibilities and a tidy explanation of where babies come from, to gentle assurances that nothing or no one could ever usurp the love and devotion he and Sally felt for their soon-to-be elder child.
Throughout his entire rambling explanation, Katie sat quietly in his lap, until he paused, smiled, and asked, “Do you have any questions, about the new baby?”
To which his daughter thought, and blinked, and said, “Can I have a puppy, instead?”
By Sam, Photos8.com [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)]
I adore the relationship between parents Larry and Sally…but I also really enjoy examining the relationship between their girls, Katie and Billie. I think because the Nightingale family gives me an opportunity to reflect on and remember my own life, while still keeping a touch of fantastic silliness and adventure so integral to their universe.
I’ve been lax with picking up prompts these last few weeks. I think they must be designed more for writers who want to write but don’t necessarily have any larger projects on which they need to concentrate. But, I’ve got two Works in Progress which I want to complete/edit/perfect. I don’t necessarily feel bad neglecting the prompts to work on my larger projects, but I do want to keep some semblance of regularity to this blog.
So, for any of you out there looking for a writing challenge, below are a few good ones I follow. I’m sure there are more out there, too, if you just poke around a bit.
And, for those of you busy concentrating on your own long projects, here’s to a good wordy weekend!
by Mayumi-H | Mar 2, 2013 | Fearless
I’ve had a long, tiring week of other people telling me what to do and how to do it, so I decided to make a fiction post strictly for myself. Luckily, Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday offered me a prompt that kept me from going completely off the rails. As it is, I’ve adhered only marginally to the confines of the prompt, which happens to be “Serendipity.”
Mature situations described below. Nothing graphic, but you should probably skip it if it’s not your cup of tea.
“Again, for the First Time”
Stehendes Liebespaar, Otto Mueller [public domain image]
The warmth and comfort of his embrace soothed – the easy rhythm of his gentle snoring even more so – but it was nearly tea, and her belly fluttered a bit at the idea of doing something nice for him. So, easing out from beneath his arm, she scooted to the side of the bed and clambered from the blankets, reaching for her clothes.She dressed with quiet speed, but, turning back toward the bed while straightening her dress, she paused, to drink in the sight of him.
Even tousled and dozing, he was fine, a blond, bronzed demigod built lean, long, smooth, and strong. Just the thought of touching him – of him touching her – made her blood pound once more.
Maybe he was wicked, as Sam had warned. But, she’d never shied from risk. And maybe he wasn’t as refined as the boys who used to try to ply her with their stylish clothes and fancy cars. But, they’d never made her come.
Her nerves tingled at the memory, not even an hour old. He’d done it once. He could do it again. And again, and again, and again…!
She closed her eyes, but not looking didn’t stop her from remembering: the smell of the sea in his hair, the taste of it on his lips, the fine scratch of grains against her naked skin where their bodies came together.
When she’d first set foot in this tiny, unassuming village, she’d never dreamed she’d be standing here, flushed and eager for the touch of a man so unlike her norm. She’d wanted only simplicity after watching Mum wither, a fresh start someplace new. Maybe a pleasant distraction, if one presented itself. But not this stirring, this bubbling, this tremendous burst of feeling in her heart that threatened to turn her small and vulnerable again. Next, she’d be telling this beautiful beast she loved him –
Her belly quivered anew, and she opened her eyes. Her cheeks burned as she looked at him again.
Love.
Pulling her lip between her teeth, she stifled a foolish, girlish giggle.
But first, tea.
Coming off the tips of my fingers, this little moment is unrefined and mostly stream of consciousness. But, isn’t that what free writing is supposed to be all about? If not good, at least unfettered? I hope so. Because I don’t even know what good writing looks like, from me, any more.
I’ve spent so long in Ross’s head, examining one of the story’s moments from Amber’s point of view was a treat. She’s girly and a-flutter and I don’t care that she’s not breaking stereotypes or carrying a banner for the feminist revolution. I like her the way she is. Maybe because she’s me, and I’m tired of the sisterhood getting up in my face for wearing dresses that cling and heels that make my calves pop and enjoying the sensation of my husband’s hands on me in a playful grope.
I should probably end with a question, as I’m supposed to do with a blog post, leading you to comment and engage. But I wrote this for me and I only posted it to keep to my schedule. So, instead, I’ll end with a hope: that you are well, free of the pressures of work and rules, and able to indulge unhindered – just a bit – in your own private universe, at least for a little while.
by Mayumi-H | Feb 20, 2013 | Fearless, Process, Short Stories, Songbirds
For the scrapheap
Sometimes, a challenge prompt will strike an immediate chord with me, and writing a submission is no trouble. (My Songbirds series vignette “A Deeper Reflection” was one of those easy-peasy efforts.) Other times, a multitude of prompts will converge into a perfect storm of inspiration and interpretation, such as with “Stagger to Sway,” one of my Fearless side stories. And then, there are the times when I’ll start writing one way, go another direction, twist around yet another bend, until I finally end up with a piece suitable for public consumption.
In the case of the “CHERISH” prompt, I eventually settled on a somewhat humorous entry, but below are three other efforts I deemed unworthy, for one reason or another. Take a gander, if it please you.
“Rescue”
That first shriek – echoing along the coastline like a banshee’s wail – made Scott drop his board like it was on fire; Finchy and Niall were already tearing across the sand, arms pumping for speed toward the source of those cries. Scott followed quick as he could do, only to pause at the edge of the scene: a young mum bouncing a screaming little girl close to her breast, while a frazzled dad was on hands and knees, scrabbling in the sand.
“Lost doll,” Niall said, his voice ripe with sour disappointment.
Scott almost snickered, when a glance into that girl’s reddened, snotty face made him think of his own tiny Emma, prompting him to shove both his mates toward the beach with a sharp, “Don’t just stand there. We’re a rescue squad; let’s rescue!”
* * *
“Toothless Shark”
Venus knew they had sex. As quiet as they’d tried to be, the rhythmic creak of used springs was as tattling as a two-year-old. So when she had to creep past their bed to the bathroom, she always kept her gaze trained forward, for the sake of all their dignities. Except for this time, when she glanced reflexively toward the sound of a muffled sniff, and had to cover her mouth and hold her breath against the most itching, adoring whimper, at the sight of Finchy’s face pressed into Amber’s ruffled curls and his fingers linked loosely with hers.
Swinging the bathroom door closed behind her, Venus laughed softly into her palm, wondering what the rest of the crew would think if they saw their resident shark, now.
* * *
“One”
At the precipice, she stood, white and bright and beautiful, the whistling wind swirling her golden curls around her shoulders the same as it ruffled the edge of her dress around her legs.
Seeing her so, warm sweat formed in his palms. He shifted his hands to his sides, to wipe them down, when it suddenly became too late: she grasped his fingers with her own – cool, slender, soft – and moved up close to him, for this moment that would end their lives as two.
They exchanged the words between them, and the precious circles the same. A single kiss, at last, and that was all, to soothe the anxious patter of his heart, and to make them one, for ever.
Now, I don’t think any of these are terrible. I was determined enough to want to finish them, after all (and to be willing to share them, here). But, as you can hopefully see, devoting such effort to these challenges is time-consuming. Even though I’ve decided to cut my blogging down to two posts a week instead of three, these still take plenty of concentration. I don’t like posting my work if I’m not totally pleased with it; I owe you that much.
…Focus…!
So, if you liked any of these scraps at least a little bit, remember this: even if what you write doesn’t make your final cut, keep that effort. Don’t throw it away completely. You never know when you might need that smile.
Where do you keep your scrapped efforts? Have you ever used a scrapped effort to start a new project?
_-_ca1919.jpeg "Otto Mueller - Stehendes Liebespaar (klein) - ca1919")
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