I'm Baaaack... (Poems, Pictures, and Stressing Out)

Hi everyone! Here I am, back from a week of dirt, daddy longlegs, really cold feet, and blisters. It. Was. Awesome =D I love the opportunity to just escape from my life every now and then--I find that my writing flourishes when I step back and take a deep (really, really deep) breath. And now that I'm back, life goes on. And it goes on oh so quickly.

First things first: Writer's Conference. I know you're getting totally sick of hearing about it (I sort of am, too) but it must be heard. It is now officially one week away. If you want to laugh, go back and glance my rather sporadic post posted quite a few weeks ago and entitled "Three Weeks?!" I always knew I couldn't count, but I didn't know that I couldn't even guesstimate accurately. This time, I'm pretty sure I'm right.

So, I submitted the dialogue that I was telling you about a couple of posts ago. It's a scene that I've always liked, and right now I'm trying not to think about it because that will only lead to tears, sweat, and a few "WHAT WAS I THINKING WHEN I SUBMITTED THAT?!" moments (I think I've had one or two already). I'm pretty nervous about it, but the teacher who's going to be using it promised absolute anonymity and was quite nice. I still think I'm going to hide when he reads it. Would you like to read it?! I won't let you answer that question. Here. *hides*

Nightstrider reached the knoll and scented Skarzen; he turned his sharp eyes on him. “Do you come to mock me, Barsz?” Nightstrider’s low, guttural voice was clogged with blood. “Do you come to lead me back to Vanisa in humiliation?”

            Skarzen prodded his horse forward. The animal approached Nightstrider reluctantly; once it shied away from the hulking, bleeding monster. When Skarzen was close enough, he spoke. “You have humiliated me, Nightstrider. What good would it do me to return it on you?”

            Nightstrider coughed loudly, foam fringing his lips. “Stop the riddles, Barsz.”

            “There are no more riddles.” Skarzen drew his sword, watching as the faint hiss of steel against leather ignited a spark of horror in Nightstrider’s eyes. “You offered me power, once, if I would help you overthrow Vanisa Sorian, and I turned you down. But only because I don’t need you. Power was not meant to be shared.”

            Nightstrider began to back away, tripping constantly over his mutilated leg. “Barsz, have you lost your mind? What are you doing?”

            Skarzen spurred his horse forward, raising his blade.

            “Vanisa will know!” Nightstrider fell to his knees, floundered to rise. Blood rushed from his mouth with his frantic words. “She will find out!”

            “By then, it will be too late.” Skarzen looked down on the Nargal with a mixture of satisfaction and disgust. “It is too late.” Two quick, solid strikes, and Nightstrider’s body crumpled. Skarzen paused, observing the fallen leader. Then he wiped the dark blood on the Nargal’s tangled mane and sheathed his sword.

That was painful =P The saddest thing is that Skarzen isn't even my original villian--he's Fozzymillow's, but he appears in my book. How wrong is that.

Now, to a happier note. I got an email today from the leader of the conference calling for teens to schedule appointments with the publisher of a fairly new Christian teens magazine who will only be at the conference for one day. The magazine is named Aletheia Writing Magazine and their website is here:
http://www.aletheiawritingmagazine.com/. I strongly encourage you to look at it and even consider submitting something, since I know all of you are crazy artistic people. I also found the blog of one of the teen authors who's been published by aletheia here: http://www.katieoostman.blogspot.com/. If you read about her experience with Aletheia, I think you'll be very encouraged. I still haven't found the story she published, but she seems like a very good author.

All that said, I scheduled an appointment with the magazine owner and I'm practically dying of happiness since they accept submissions of everything from short stories to poems to artwork to photographs to book reviews and I plan to show him just about everything I have that falls into those categories. I shall keep you updated.

And finally, here's some stuff (a poem and pictures) I came up with while on my camping trip =) Enjoy!

On My Encounter with a Good Friend, the Red Squirrel, Who Was Quite Incensed When I Startled Him

A squirrel, he stopped and looked at me

As if I had surprised him

And as we sat a'staring there

As calmly I surmised him

He crept along his gnarly bough

With squirrel toes all a twitter

And only when he'd made his leap

Did he scold and sorely chitter.

The sky on the day we arrived.

My VERY FIRST roasted hotdog. In my own personal and completely unbiased opinion, I think it is roasted to perfection.

The falls which we hike down to see every year. Very inspiring place, that =)

An oddly shaped tree I found while hiking.

LAKE. Favorite. Place. EVER.

Indian Pipes

This huge boulder field. I mean, it was literally ALL boulders. I walked across half of it and almost killed myself because I was wearing flip-flops. That's me--always prepared XD

A NEWT. So cute. I rhyme without even trying ^_^

A rental car we got after ours decided to tour the local shop. I want it now, and have decided that this will be my first car. My dad is not convinced, since I can't even drive yet =)

The lake on the day we left =(

The TINIEST frog I've ever seen. It could literally fit on my fingernail. What a grand creation!

Signing out!

Elisabeth

Für Du =)

And here it is--the prologue. Aha. I promised you I'd do it =)

Off I go, laptopless and without cell phone connection for a whole week. Wish me well!

 

~Elisabeth

 

 

Prologue     

Avalanche galloped through the forest, his strides eating up the distance between him and his destination. His mane whipped his neck as he increased his speed and leapt over a log in his path. Pain seized him when his right foreleg, dark with dried blood, buckled beneath his weight. He caught himself before he fell and swerved down a well-worn path through the dark trees, trying to keep going despite the pain from his wound and the ache in his heart.

             The forest was silent, showing no sign of the danger he knew was coming. The air, heavy with the scent of spring, should have calmed him; the musty odor of loose earth and new life filled his nostrils. The wind whispered through the trees as it had for a thousand years.

            But this night was different.

            Avalanche broke into a moonlit clearing and slid to a stop, keeping the weight off his wounded leg. He righted himself, then waited.

            After a moment, a circle of unicorns stepped from the shadows to meet him.

            “What news do you bring us, my leader?” a tall, silver unicorn with a black mane asked.

            “Yes, what information from the outside, Avalanche?” A sea-blue stallion stepped up beside the first; his white mane rivaled even the moonlight.

            “Ravenmane, Fleetfoot, the news I bring is grave.” Avalanche’s voice sounded tired, even to his own ears. “Vanisa Sorian’s forces have made their first attack.”

            A wave of murmurs rose and died before it was silent again.           

            “So she has begun?” asked Fleetfoot. The young unicorn’s eyes flickered from Avalanche’s face to his wounded leg, and Avalanche could tell that he was trying not to stare.

            “She has.” Avalanche’s eyes closed for a moment. He remembered the horrible scene as the dying cries of his companions wove dark and bitter tunes in his mind.

            “How many were lost?” Ravenmane asked.

            The memories faded as Avalanche opened his eyes. “Seven. I had hoped it would never come to this.” He turned to a small yet agile unicorn mare waiting behind Ravenmane. “Lunara Whisperwind, it is time.”

            “It is time.” Lunara stepped forward to Ravenmane’s side. “We cannot let an act like this go unpunished.”

            Avalanche nodded, then paused. “Lunara, I ask this not as your leader, but as your friend: are you truly willing to go? In your condition?”

            “I am ready, Avalanche,” Lunara said, her voice resolved. “I was chosen for this long before Moonbeam’s death, and condition or no condition, I will hold to my promises.”

            Avalanche held her gaze for a moment; he was about to speak when a surprised and familiar voice joined their conversation.

            “Lunara? What are you doing?”

            Avalanche turned to face a slender woman standing in the entrance to the clearing. Her long, azure gown rippled around her like liquid moonlight as she approached Lunara. Her long pale hair was tied behind her; her blue eyes searched Avalanche’s face with sudden intensity. “What’s going on?”

            “Lara, I thought I told you not to come,” Lunara said.

            Lara drew herself up to her full height. “You said you were going for a walk, not to a secret meeting.”

            Lunara’s ears flicked back. “It is not your place to stop me.”

            “But it is too near your time!” Lara protested. “You must stay here; do not go galloping through the galaxies looking for some mythical girl mentioned in a prophecy a thousand years old. Besides, with a war brewing, that is the last thing we need—a girl in Avaria.”

            Amusement flashed across Lunara’s face; then her eyes softened. “Lara, the girl will help us. The Prophecy—”

            “—is an old Foal-Rhyme.” Lara scowled at Lunara and crossed her arms.

            “Lara.” Avalanche kept his voice firm. “Do not mock the Prophecy. If the Creator has decreed it, then it will come to pass.” He turned to Ravenmane. “You know it by heart; will you recite it for us now?”

            Ravenmane nodded. “Of course, sir.”  He began in a low, steady voice:

           

“Earth-child yet not of Earth,

Quiet one of noble birth

The true blood runs in her veins

Magical as the unicorns’ manes

When darkness falls and storms arise,

Call for the First and open her eyes

Though called to hardship and to pain

She shall be the enemy’s bane.”

Avalanche nodded his approval. “I, for one, have full faith in the Creator’s words. Lunara is right. It is not Lara’s place to stop her.”

“Avalanche,” Lara began, “this is madness, to let—”

“Lunara has pledged herself to this quest,” Avalanche interjected. “I gave her the chance to surrender her duties to another; she declined. I now hold her to her word. She will go.”

            Dismay colored Lara’s face; she gave Lunara a sidelong glance before she turned back to Avalanche. “If I cannot stop her, then it is my place to go with her.” She stepped closer to Lunara and laid a hand on the unicorn’s shoulder. “We have been together from the beginning, Avalanche. Do not separate us now.”

            Avalanche paused. It would be both useful and wise for Lunara to have a friend by her side, since she is not fit to make the journey alone. “Lunara, this is your decision.”

            Lunara did not hesitate to answer. “I would be honored to have Lara come.”

            “So it shall be. Lunara, is there anything we can do for you and Lara before you leave?”

            “Actually, there is.” Lunara glanced at Lara, then continued. “Avalanche, please send two or three unicorns with us to Moonrain Grove. They will serve as protection and, if trouble arises, they can come back to warn you.”           

            Avalanche shook his head. “I cannot spare any unicorn warriors, not after the attack. There is just no way.”

            “Excuse me.”

            Avalanche turned and peered at a muscular, crimson-red unicorn behind him. “Firehorn, son of Lunara, you wish to speak?”          

            “Yes, sir.” Firehorn stepped forward to face Avalanche, his dark brown eyes illuminated by what starlight there was. “I am willing to go with Lara and my mother. After all, I am not a colt anymore,” he said, pride penetrating his voice.

            “Sir, if you would allow me to go as well,” Fleetfoot said, following Firehorn.

            “Fleetfoot?” Avalanche asked.

            “Someone must keep Firehorn out of trouble,” Fleetfoot explained, his voice serious but his eyes laughing.

            “I suppose you are experienced enough to go…” Avalanche tried to collect his thoughts. “The two of you together will provide ample protection and will be of great service to Lunara.”

            “What of the third?”

            The cry came from a unicorn mare, slight and limber and as silver as the moon. Her jerky and uneven strides betrayed her excitement as she trotted to stand by Firehorn. “I mean, Lunara did say two or three, sir. Can there not be three unicorns to protect her?”

            Avalanche smiled despite himself. “You wish to go, Starhorn?”

            “I do.”

            Fleetfoot and Firehorn exchanged looks of disbelief before turning back to Avalanche. “Is it wise,” Firehorn asked carefully, “to send Starhorn to do a warrior’s work?”

            “Speak for yourself,” Starhorn retorted before Avalanche could speak. “You are not a warrior, and yet he sends you.” She looked to Avalanche, her eyes pleading as her pride would not allow her to do. “Send me, my leader.”

            “Are you sure, Starhorn?”

            “Quite, sir.”

            “Then you are the third,” Avalanche said. “Lunara, do you think these three young ones are suitable?” He could see Lunara hesitate, and he understood her uncertainty. In times past, these three would have been considered too young for a quest such as this. But times are changing. They have been forced to change.

            “They will do.” Lunara smiled as the three young ones took their place beside her and Lara, whose mouth opened in disbelief.

            “Very well,” Avalanche said. “May the Creator guide all of you.”

            “And may He watch over you until he return,” Lunara replied. She turned and walked carefully out of the clearing. Lara followed on foot, then Starhorn, then Fleetfoot. Firehorn brought up the rear; his excitement showed in the spring of his trot as he disappeared into the darkness.

            Avalanche waited until they were out of his sight; then he murmured a silent prayer. Keep them safe, Creator Lord. He faced his waiting herd. “So it begins.”

            The unicorns lingered; then, one by one, they left the clearing, leaving only their hoof prints to tell of their presence there.

A Quick One...

Soo, I got an email from one of the continuing session leaders at GPCWC. He wants to know if I'd like to submit a page of dialogue for his class, since I was one of the first people to sign up (I knew being early would count for something, someday!)
I haven't quite made up my mind as to what I'd like to do, but I WOULD like to let you know so that you can be ready to critique it if I come up with anything. And of course, I'm going to find SOMETHING from Avaria to post before I go seclude myself in the wilderness for a week (ahh, the joys of camping...)

~Elisabeth

Three Weeks?!

I know, I know, I just made a fatal error in punctuation (and in my post title, no less) but I'm rather panicked at the moment! The Writer's Conference is the sneaky sort--it always creeps up on me--but NEVER have I been THIS unprepared. It's rather scary, actually.
I always try to get the most out of this conference--I mean, I don't want to pay over a hundred dollars (and that's with a generous discount!) and not get my money's worth. But it's just this year that I'm beginning to realize that this is a two-way thing--GPCWC provides the conference, the authors, editors, materials, suggestions, and opportunities--I gotta DO something with them!
And I have three weeks.
Blast.
Avaria's my biggest concern. It hasn't changed much from last year, and there is a lot of polishing I could still do on the first few chapters. But I don't want to limit myself to just that. I want to bring other ideas, short stories, even poems! I want to give people a broader view of my work (if you can call it that). I have so many things I could bring, but they need a bit of help.
In three weeks.

So, I'm asking for your opinion. I AM GOING TO POST SOME OF AVARIA (I just put that in caps as a reminder for myself to actually do it). But I need your help with other things as well.

*Of the things I've posted here, what would you like to see go to the conference?
* Of the things that you chose for the above, do any need changes/help?
* If so, can you suggest ways to make said things better?

I don't mean to make you do homework, and you don't have to. But I really would love your input--it would be very encouraging :]

On a happier note, I got BOOKS today! About fifteen! Most are from the 1950's and below; I stuffed them all into a poor shopping bag and nabbed the entire batch for only five dollars! I'm rather spazzed =D Just thought I'd share that random joy with you :]

Yours (Exhausted)~

Elisabeth

Outlines, GoodReads, and Figuring Stuff Out :]

Hi everyone. I'm not going to apologize for not posting in forever--I know you know my excuses by heart and you could probably apologize FOR me by now -_- (But I really am sorry--writing this summer has been harder than ever before!)

Today I went through my outline for Avaria and basically tried to figure out exactly what I did and didn't need. It was tedious, sometimes boring and sometimes a bit painful since I had to decide to cut some scenes which have been in the book since the beginning :'( But I think I made progress and can now chat a bit with Fozzy about her opinion and then start to tear my poor novel apart (again). I also found a bunch of resources from writer's conferences past and made a list of exactly what I want to do with each one. I really need to work on my characters--maybe I'll let them loose on the blog someday and let you tell me what you think of them :] I'm going to try to make each of them a little document containing their backstory and vital information, just to get everything organized. I think it's a good idea--I'll let you know how it turns out XD

Next--GoodReads! I just found this yesterday and have been basking in the glow for about 30 hours :] If you know what GoodReads is, then you don't need to read the rest of this paragraph. If you don't: GoodReads is a site packed chock-full of books--unfortuantely, not ones you can read. They're actually books which you can mark as *read*, *currently reading*, or *to-read*. You can make "shelves" of these books, invite friends to join, take bookish quizzes, find and favorite quotes, become fans of your favorite authors, and review books that you've read. I'm having a blast! It's not a Christian site, but I haven't seen any problems with language and it seems secure and well-moderated. If any of you are on there, I'd love to "friend" you and swap book suggestions :] I always loved to read even before I loved to write, and it's so fun for me to compile a list of all the books I can ever remember reading X3 If you're not a member, you can sign in with Facebook, Yahoo, Gmail, etc. and create an account thru one of those profiles. Sorry for rambling--I encourage you to go ahead and take a look around the site for youself!

Shoooyeah. This school year I'll be taking a graphic novel course which I'm super excited about! I expect to be writing a lot of poetry for said class, so hopefully you'll have a steady stream of verses thrown at you then. Over the next few days, I'd like to post a couple of chapters from Avaria for you to take a look at.


Aaand Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra just ended and Stargate SG-1 is on -_- That's probably my cue to sign out X3


Have a good 4th of July!

~Elisabeth