Fiction Friday: Thinking about October and November

In thirteen days, on October 1, the NaNoWriMo Prep Challenge begins on writing.com. This is thirty-one days of planning for National Novel Writing Month in November. I have already begin brainstorming my novel and even have one character profile story written in my writing.com blog. I did not intend to write this story today, but when I went to respond to the blog prompt nothing else came to mine. Since I could not think of anything else I begin a character profile description which turn into a flash fiction story.

I have my book already have my NaNoWriMo 2014 Prep Challenge book established in my portfolio, but the only thing I have in it is the calendar-check sheet for October. I have been in a semi-positive mood for a a couple of weeks, which means I am attempting to overcome my depressive tendency to procrastinate and look on the dark side. This is not easy for someone who has dealt with depression most of her 67 years of life.

My main goal for October is to spend fifteen-minutes a day planning my NaNoWriMo novel for November. I know I will have to increase my writing time in November from fifteen minutes to thirty-five or forty minutes to meet the 1,667 words a day in November. I will know by the end of October how many words I can write in fifteen minutes, which will give me an idea of how long it will take me to write 1,667 a day in November.

Fiction Friday: Since I Cannot Focus on a Story I Will Write a Poem for Luck Penny Day

It is Fiction Friday, which means this entry should contain a story. Unfortunately, my muse or my mind cannot focus because my thinking is slow this morning. I suspect this comes form the fact that I did not get to sleep until 1:30 or 2:00 am. The only explanation I can deduce is that I had too many sweets when I went to the Holy Day celebration at the Baha'i Center last night. Either that or I was too excited  to sleep because a friend gave me the book Harley-Davidson 100 Years. It really does not matter why I could not sleep just that I was unable to sleep.

Lucky Penny Day
pick up the next penny
with heads up for luck.

All right, that probably is not the greatest senyru, but it just came off the top of my head so I probably needs a bit of rewriting. Maybe I should write a Harley-Davidson poem instead. Unfortunately, I just seem to stare at the screen without any idea about how to start. Perhaps I need a little more caffeine or something more to eat then Hostess Twinkies for breakfast.

The Elm Tree

The wind howled shaking the windows and pounding on the enclosed patio's tin roof. The cold late winter the wind is all anyone could hear. Every creature in the house shivered and huddled beneath layers of blanket, but that did not keep out the cold. The street lights shook and trembled in the 50 mph gust.

The neighbors dogs howled and their cat moaned. Cloths left on the line outside blew off and sailed away. In the final moments of the mighty wind, the elm tree, which had withstood other Las Vegas windstorms, crashed to the ground its upper branches catching on the cable that powered the streetlight. The tree lay on the ground blocking the sidewalk until the city came the next day and removed the branches that lay across the walk. The remaining trunk and limbs now lay in the front yard, waiting for someone to cut up for firewood.

Fiction Friday: The Stranger and the City

Istiqlal (Independence), 2 Mulk (Dominion), 164 B.E. - Friday, February 8, 2008 about 4:16 PM PST

She stood on the edge of the old city, watching as the colonist removed the stones, which had made Armphor’s walls. As they removed the stones to use in their own buildings, the Earth Colonist watched her as well. Finally, after two days of watching, she approached the foreman of one of the work crews.

“Do you know what city you are destroying,” she said pointing to the city, “or do you even care?”

“We have no choice,” the foreman’s brow winkled, “our excavating equipment doesn’t work and we need shelter before the coming winter.”

“You didn’t answer my question, do you care what city you destroy?”

“Yes,” the foreman studied the stranger’s features, the woman could easily pass as the wife of any one of his own crew. “Each work crew has three artists making detailed drawing of the stones and their locations; we number the stones so that we know where they were found in the walls. If we can, we will replace the stones, in the walls. We take only what we need and no more.”

“It is good that you care, because those who built Armphor cared nothing for this planet or its past and the planet destroyed them. The stones you are taking formed the walls of an older city, higher on the mountain. When the builders of Armphor came to this planet, they destroyed the inhabitants of that city and took the stones to construct their own fortress. It did not save them from the planet’s vengeance. You and your people may be more fortunate, Earthman, but only if you respect the planet’s native inhabitants.”

“And if we don’t,” a chill ran up his spine at the look on her face.

“Then I will pray for your soul and the souls of your people, Earthman,” with those words she turned her back on the city and walked back down the mountain toward the river that flowed through the valley.

Word count = 325