Revisiting a story I wrote years ago always inspires and humbles me!
Despite cringing at the prose I constructed, I’ve fallen in love anew with my characters from the story “The Forging of Isaz.” Gobban, the Norse smith, and Kalda, the ice sprite, left too many leads unfollowed, and my imagination is whirling again.
As I recall, “The Forging of Isaz” was my attempt to experiment with leveraging research to drive a plot. I had recently garnered plenty of facts about the forging of steel swords (Not the most practical knowledge for a regular twenty-first-century guy!) while diving down a rabbit hole online. Ultimately, “The Forging of Isaz” evolved into a tale of love.
Flash forward to 2024, the year I chose to focus on entering contests and submitting works for review in hopes of being published; Vocal put forward a writing challenge calling for pieces of microfiction set in a snowy environment. Kalda, my plucky ice sprite, came immediately to mind.
It takes the reader back before the events of “The Forging of Isaz,” teasing at Kalda’s past, which is only just beginning to take shape in my head.
Additionally, despite seeing lots of changes I’d like to make to the original story (I hope to revise and repost sometime soon.), I encourage you to check out “The Forging of Isaz,” archived on my blog. Here’s the link.
My 2024 writing resolution is to honor “the deadline” and keep a steady pace of submitting for contests and open submission calls. Below is my third submission for a competition on Vocal. The challenge asked writers to create a short story told from the perspective of a misplaced object. Check out the beginning of my entry below. It’s titled, “Trust Is Key” .
Goodness me, this is exciting! It’s my first day on the job! Noah’s nervous, but that’s natural for a newly licensed driver.
Don’t worry, Noah. I promised your mom and dad I’d keep an eye on you.
Now, this other kid is different. What did Noah call him? Aiden? Yes, that’s Noah’s friend’s name. Aiden has been nothing but a distraction since climbing into the car. I had to holler forever until he put his seatbelt on. What a relief he still only has his practice driver’s permit. Heaven help us when he gets a license! His mouth just runs. Is he thinking before he speaks? Even I’m finding it hard to focus!
“You drive like my gramma. Can’t you go any faster?”
This kid’s got some nerve! He’s going to ruin Noah’s first outing!
Noah, this is a perfectly acceptable speed. Pay no attention to this rapscallion.
Ooh, I wish I could talk. That’s an upgrade to consider.
“Aiden, I don’t have much choice about it. My parents will revoke my driving privileges if they catch me speeding.”
They sure will, Buster, and don’t think I will lie on your account!
“How are they going to know?”
Oh, Aiden, think! It’s the twenty-first century. I’m collecting data points to compile a report for Noah’s parents.
“Big Brother’s watching.”
Wait, what? Is Noah referring to me? That’s not my name. I’m…well, I don’t have a name, how unfortunate.
“You’re joking. What? There’s a camera or something?”
Look at poor Aiden, craning his neck, searching for a camera! Ha! That’s rich! The level of surveillance I offer far exceeds anything a simple camera can do.
“No, my key.”
Ta-dah!No one ever suspects the key.
Click the Button Below to Read the Rest of the Story on Vocal
Below is the beginning of a story I submitted for Vocal’s #200 Challenge. I had fun daydreaming about what would happen if I entered my writing study to find all my characters waiting to lodge their complaints against me.
“An Author Intervention”
Everyone tells stories. It’s part of being human. But some of us feel called to share our stories with the world, wondering if we might earn a living writing. If you’re one of these types, I warn you, friend, once others learn about your aspirations, they will pepper you with endless questions about how your writing is going until inevitably someone asks the evil, boss-monster of all questions, “Have you published anything yet?”
When this happens, you’d be wise to procure a mighty magic sword. Be sure it bestows daily confidence while being sharp enough to cut a path of clear perspective through any miasma, no matter how thick and rank it is, with fear, doubt, and self-loathing. Be ruthless with this archvillain, the bane of writers everywhere! Don’t hesitate to smite its ruin at first chance, dispatching it back to the hell with which it came, or risk opening the door to a host of inner demons and critics who will thwart every attempt you make to write.
This is precisely what happened to me this past year. Paralyzed by an internalized sense of incompetency, my writing repeatedly stalled until it reached a near-complete stop by year’s end. Thank heaven for the time-honored tradition of making New Year’s resolutions.
There is something beautiful about a fresh start, a new day, a new week, a new month, and the beginning of a new year! Discovering the theme for Vocal’s 200th challenge couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. I dove eagerly into the project, drafting my list of things to accomplish in 2024. I excel at planning but often need help recognizing when to stop prepping and start. My list was long, but I feared it was incomplete, so I didn’t dare begin writing. Frustrated, knowing I was falling into the same old trap, I paused to stand and stretch. When I reached for another sip of that most blessed nectar of the gods of motivation and achievement, coffee, I found my mug empty.
I shuffled out of my study to the kitchen, put another pot of coffee on, went to the bathroom, took the dog for a walk, grabbed a bite, and downed a cup of coffee before filling another. As I inched slowly back to my desk, desperate not to spill the overfull mug, I became aware of hushed voices from my writing study.
I froze and panicked momentarily until I remembered yesterday’s notice on the community bulletin board reminding residents that maintenance was working on this side of the building. Concluding the crew was working outside my window, I relaxed. Turning the corner, I found the door to my study closed. I trembled, knowing I had left the door open.
Bravely or foolishly, I opened the door to find ….
Follow this link below to find out what happened next!
Mythos Creative Writing 