Sunday, 26 June 2011

Blogfest, interrupted....

Hello and welcome all to my post for Sash's Blogfest, interrupted...

The task set is to write/post a 500-1000 word scene where your characters are interrupted doing something - anything.

Here goes my anything...

(Alethaien or Tay is hostage/prisoner to King Feardorcha - called Doyle - and has only recently spent time in the king's dungeons; now he's more or less on parole, Doyle treating him more like a recalcitrant ward or pet than a prisoner; Tay wants to know why...)


The desk was piled high with scrolls, bits of parchment, books, feather quills and charcoal sticks in fancy silver holders. Letters glowed and went dark again as Tay's hand brushed against books of magic. He shuddered and pushed a particularly heavy tome away with his elbow. The power that saturated this room crawled along his spine and made the hair at the back of his neck stand up.

He had to hurry. Being left to cool his heels in Feadorcha's study was a true stroke of luck, but it wouldn't last long. The king was bound to return soon, and if he found Tay searching his papers, there would be hell to pay.

A pile of letters caught his attention. Tay picked up one bearing a red wax seal and held it up to the light of the window.

The red wax had been broken, the letter read by the king, but it was unmistakably the seal Tay's father had used. He touched it carefully, hating the tears that welled up in his eyes. If his father could see him now, prisoner and little more than pet to the heretic king, he'd turn his back on Tay and never speak of him again.

If he knew that Tay's touch made the king's books of magic glow, he'd sign the order of execution himself.

"I see you and I will have to have a conversation about the nature of trust, Alethaien." Tay froze, letter in hand. So close, he'd come so close! He swallowed hard to try to rid himself of the lump in his throat.

"Your majesty," he finally managed to say, though he couldn't bring himself to move, couldn't bring himself to put down the letter.

The king didn't say anything as he moved to stand behind Tay, so close the younger man could feel the warmth of his body. Doyle held out his hand and snapped his fingers when the silent order wasn't immediately followed. Tay shivered and let his fingers go loose. The letter fell into the king's hand.

"I kept this from you for a reason, boy," Doyle said, moving away from his young prisoner. He sat on the chair, unfolding the letter. He looked up at Tay, watched him shiver with tension. "I thought you might do this. You are young, you are in an impossible situation, and you are deadly curious. It was only a matter of time before you tried this."

Tay ducked his head, facing the king without really looking at him. "How did you know?" Tay swept an arm to the side, indicating the desk and its surroundings. "You left me here to wait. How did you know when I would touch the desk?"

Doyle chuckled. "Let me keep some secrets, boy. Maybe I'll tell you some day, maybe I won't have to." 


What did you think of that? Like, unlike? Let me know and then let everyone else know what you think of their entries, please. 

It was nice having you over on the Dark Side of the Woods, thank you for coming. 

Friday, 3 June 2011

Some Days are Darker than Others

I love writing, as I'm sure we all do. But there's some days when my eyes just won't focus on the screen (or paper or whatever), when my synapses won't fire properly and I just cannot find the energy to write.

Life has a way of getting me down on occasion, what with 9-5 (or rather 8-9, if we're being honest) jobs, stressfull business trips with mind-numbing layovers in weirdly homogenous airports in the middle of nowhere, standard contracts that may or may not have hidden clauses you need to figure out (or add, as the case may be) (what, so I'm a lawyer - everyone needs a day-job, even if it's a bloodsuckery one), collegues who text/call/email with stupid questions and bosses who want everything done yesterday, please (while still having sufficient billable hours, of course).

Don't even get me started on family weekends (parents and siblings, not my own family - living the single life, here).

Writing with a day job is exhausting sometimes.

Any tips on how to get my writing spirits up? I've joined Sasha's blogfest (see sidebar) for some inspiration... but I could probably do with another hint or two on getting over the slump.