Something to come?

Ever since my trip to Gaspe , I've had the notion of writing soemthing in mind. The other night I gave myself some time to really think about it and see where it took me, and that's when it became a story.
    Now I have the tale of a young woman taking a road trip to escape from a life she no longer knows whether she wants or not bouncing around in my head, along with a lot of little scenes of what she experiences along the way. It's inspired in part from some novels of a genre I don't even know the name for, those sorts of contemporary ones that are kind of quirky, and deal with the lives of simple people, and win awards. I picture it being read aloud in a very particular voice, one of those standard female voices for reading books on tapes... :'D
    Anyway, it's quite a diversion from the sort of stuff I usually write, and I don't think it's very good. It's also the first time I've ever drawn so heavily from my own experiences... People always say to write what you know, though I've never really done all that much of that XP. (I'm still not really doing that, but what the heck...). But it's coming from a good well of inspiration, more then I've had in a while, and I'm enjoying writing it. I think that's what matters most :)
    Hopefully it grows into a fully fledged, fully presentable story, but either way here's a couple of snippets...

 

 

 

Rounding the corner,

There it is!

Something I haven’t seen in years, sparkling with light…

I roll down the window, letting the cold air buffet my face unevenly

As I try to smell the ocean.

This next bit would come a bit later on in the story...

This stretch has easy curves, roads with small shoulders that are slowly washing out, and lots of warning signs. They inform that I’m in danger of being swept off the road and into the ocean on my right by giant, squiggling waves; and of having rocks tumble down obscurely angled cliffs and crush me from the left. I don’t pay much attention to the signs, although I do stop to take a picture of one placed right in front of a cliff as obscurely angled as the one on the sign before it. I figure that this cliff was clearly what all of these signs were based off of, the one cliff that had such a bad record that someone brought an artist in to paint a blocky black silhouette of it to paste across the countryside. I figure if any rocks are going to fall on me, it’ll be the rocks off of this cliff. I drive around the bend without incident. I figure that gives me a right to not worry about any more rocks falling off of more gently sloping, unassuming cliffs than this one.

The other thing this stretch has is waterfalls. The first one I see, I almost miss. It was nothing until I was right next to it, and then it was a bright ribbon of liquid rushing down past my window. I hit the brakes. Checking my rearview mirror, I confirm that no one’s behind for as far as I can see, then I back up until I’m right next to it again. Rolling down my right window, I lean across the passenger seat, stretching my seat belt to its limits and craning my head for the best view I can get.

Just something random...

I think I used to miss out on the concept of six word stories, somehow... Lately I've got interested in them, perhaps thanks to my love of haiku. I think I appreciate the depth that just a few words can hold more than I ever used to.
Anyway, I read some really wonderful six word stories around deviantART, and decided to try my hand at them for the first time. The results are...not so great, that's for sure, but I'm really happy that I wrote them! I'm going to work hard to remember to write more, and hopefully I can improve so that when a great bit of inspiration strikes me, I'll have the skills to write an incredible six word story. For now, since the only other things I have hanging about on my computer are terribly unfinished scraps of writing and I'm feeling a need to connect with the online world, I'll post up my first ever attempts at the style.
(Hope someone enjoys, maybe...)

Zip! Closing rips, and then, zip!

White hands on a shredded canvas.

She didn't laugh... A crushing defeat.

Death is drifting on the sea.

Realize gravity's a matter of perspective.

Poof! That's what alchemy's all about.

An orange door. How about you?

(Inspired in part by prompts provided by the dA group Quill-Cafe http://quill-cafe.deviantart.com/)

Poetic travel log

Just some poems I wrote on my trip to UWWG in February. Hope you enjoy, and I'll post some more new stuff soon! :D

Fresh air!
Snow crunching under
boots,
Sun shine & the birds
singing.


Leaning on the sun warmed leather
Of the car door,
Me and Clyde watch the scenery go by.



Across the sky,
A jet plane blazes
Its white meteor trail.



Rolling snow,
Patterned in trees,
Of sun and shadow.



Flashing sun
And sudden blue light,
On the page of my notebook.



A wisp, a puff, a speck, a line;
Random sketches,
Against the sky.



Tree branches make,
A delicate lace,
Stark against the turquoise,
Of sky lady's dress.



Twisty tree,
Just a flash out my window, but,
I see a walking lady.



Grey and white motion
On the matte grey sky;
Seagulls crisscrossing.



Immersed in hot water,
Snowflakes whip around my head;
I breathe in cold steam.



Ocean stones,
Smooth and clinking,
In my hands. 

Spring

blue sky!

look up and 

breathe

the clouds.

A drop of dew balances,
    On every spike of the strawberry leaf;
Morning's circus act.


Just a couple of poems inspired by the nature I can see coming to life around me... Hope you enjoy ^^

Granting Wishes

Scribble Date: 27/12/09

A brief and spontaneous piece written one night/morning at 3:00 a.m., inspired by the Quill-Cafe prompt 'Granting Wishes'. Enjoy the Scribble ^^

A tilt of his head, a small smirk; all too familiar to me.
    “So, you have another problem with how I grant your wishes?” He asks, lounging back in the ratty armchair, slender fingers raising a cigarette to his lips. I watch in silence as he takes a drag, exhaling a curling plume of smoke into the air of my apartment.
    “Or do you have another wish you need granted?”
    My continued silence is enough of an answer to him. His smirk widens, feline, predatory.
    “Oh ho ho. So the little wayward, angry bastard wants another favour.” He lowers the cigarette, taps his fingers against the arm of my chair. Ashes fall to the equally ratty carpet covering the floor.
    “Alright, spit it out. What’s it gonna be this time? A new job? A new lover? A new place?” He leans forward, resting one elbow on his knee, a hint of some vicious, eager sentiment hovering on his features. I can never place that little expression, but I hate it. It reminds me that chances are, I’m the one who’s going to lose out again.
    I take a deep breath. Steeling myself, I raise my eyes to meet his, careful. No emotions showing.
    “I want to take down the civilized world.”
    His cruel, feral smirk widens into an equally disturbing grin as he lowers his hand again, grinding out the tip of his cigarette on my armchair.
    “Heh. Now we’re talking.”