For those who are curious

I'm currently in the process of writing the longest piece of fiction I've written in ages. It's somewhere over 2,500 words right now, with a ways to go yet. I'm not exactly sure which way that is anymore, and I'm at the point where I'm going to have to start experimenting with plot lines. Taking this much time to write something is new-ish for me (as is the length); I usually know exactly where I'm going--or think I do, anyway, and if I get stuck, that often unfortunately the end. But I really like what I've written so far so I'm committed to seeing this one through.

I'm not writing quite every day; the current drabble project with Elizabeth is helping, though.

Anyway, just an update. I'm in Austin this weekend for some blues dancins. Have a good holiday, everyone!

Whiskey-plied voices cried, "Fratricide!"

From the song "Fake Palindromes"

Fair’s Fair

Armed with pitchforks and axes, Bramford’s menfolk raced up the mountainside to rid their town of the menacing beast, each ready to do his part—once they’d agreed to divide up equally any loot the monster left behind.

They found the demon asleep and fell upon it. Their work was bloody but quick.

Behind the vanquished beast they saw no jewels, no gold. Instead, a maiden, unconscious, lay amidst a pile of bones.

The men began to grumble. “What about our agreement?” someone yelled. Old Sal, their leader, sighed. With a shrug, he removed the hunting knife from his belt.

Elizabeth's story

If you're made of calcium, I'll have to take a taste

From the song "MX Missiles."

In Bad Taste

The five senses are supposedly equally important, but Tommy had a favorite. Sight, hearing, smell, touch—sure, they had their uses, they were probably even necessary for daily life, but those weren’t the senses he used to really understand the world.

Since he never seemed to get sick from it, Tommy’s parents encouraged his oral explorations, appreciating their son’s unique learning style. They took an odd pride in watching him run his tongue over surfaces, discovering new textures and tastes.

That is, until the day Tommy became curious about animals and decided to find out how the dog’s insides worked.


Elizabeth's story

I had not become a cephalopod

From the song "Opposite Day."

Monsters

Harold awoke to the sun streaming onto his face. He felt refreshed; everything seemed right in the world. Yawning, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then froze.

Something was very wrong.

Pulling his arms away from his face, Harold stared at them in horror. He cried out—terrible, primal sounds.

Penny came quickly. When she saw him she stopped. “Oh, Harold.”

He was pale, deflated. “Look at me. I’m a monster.”

Penny caressed his human hands with her tentacles. “Curse or no curse, I’ll always love you. But, the next time you cross a Sea Witch, apologize, okay?”


Link to Elizabeth's story

The sky is full of zeros and ones

My friend Elizabeth and I are playing a game: once or twice a week, we pick a line from a song by Andrew Bird and write a drabble inspired by it (as loosely or as closely as possible). I think the goal of the project (besides doing some regular writing) is to see how differently we use the lines.

Anyway, the first line is "The sky is full of zeros and ones," from the song "Masterfade."


Zeros and Ones

“Son, let me tell you something. There’s two kinds of people in this world: winners and losers. You’re either a zero or a one.”

Sam’s dad put his arm around his son’s shoulders, but Sam knew it wasn’t an affectionate gesture. He didn’t know which kind of person it meant his father thought he was.

“You don’t want to be a zero, do you?”

Sam looked at his father and suddenly, for the first time, he saw him for what he really was: self-important, bigoted, a hollow shell. A zero.

Shrugging away his father’s arm, Sam turned and headed home.


Link to Elizabeth's story