Flash Fiction: The Wolfengard

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Every month I plan to do a flash fiction piece around 500 words or so, and this is the first of what I hope to be many!

Vorja pulled his cloak tighter against the howling mountain wind, whose cold fingers snaked down the slopes into the valley. The gale had rendered his torch less than useless, but his feet know their way through the rocky terrain even hidden under several inches of snow. The blizzard swallowed everything beyond fifteen feet or so in any direction and the only sounds were the howl of the wind, the flapping protest of his cloak and the wooden rattle of the arrows in his quiver. Then something new crept into his awareness. A phantom shape materialized from the flurries in front of him. Two golden eyes drew closer, set above a long narrow muzzle and below a pricked pair of ears. Its paws scarcely disturbed the snow, despite its bulk. Vorja halted, but his hand did not reach for the sword at his hip. The beast’s gray pelt was flecked with snow and its brush of a tail lashed back and forth nearly scraping the ground with each pass. A growl rumbled from deep within its chest.

“What is it Telak? Is there trouble?” Vorja asked. His furry partner circled him and stood at his side, shaking its head to dislodge some of the recently fallen snow, only to have it replace a moment later. “Or do you just want food and a warm place to curl up?” Telak snuffed and inclined his head to the left, pointing his muzzle towards the village that was all but hidden from sight by the storm. “That’s what I thought,” Vorja chuckled. Telak lowered his head and butted it against Vorja’s hip, throwing the guard off balance. “One more pass and then we can head back,” he promised. He ran his hand over the top of Telak’s head between his ears, brushing over the leather headpiece with a silver accent. His fingers lingered to trace the fang crossed with a hunter’s bow, the same symbol on the clasp of his cloak. The emblem of the Wolfengard.

The pair moved in silence, Vorja trusting Telak’s ears to pick up any signs of danger. After another fifteen minutes they turned down a path that led from the foothills back towards the village. Telak’s tail rose until it was almost parallel with the ground and his gait quickened. Vorja fell in behind his companion as they wound down the path worn down by carts and travelers in the warmer months. The lights from the village came into view before the buildings around them, dancing formless in the snowy air. Vorja caught the scent of meat roasting and sighed. Soon he would be seated among his compatriots, downing mead and celebrating at the Feast of the Solstice. At the crest of the last hill Vorja paused, regarding the shapes moving about the lights below. Mothers and children, kept safe behind the bows and fangs of the Wolfengard. Pride surged through him pushing even the cold away for a moment.

Then Telak halted and turned back towards the hills with pricked ears and a stiff stance. Vorja turned and listened. The wind slackened for a moment and a call came over its dirge. It was a clear unwavering howl. Someone had raised the alarm. Vorja turned his gaze to meet his partner’s, thoughts of food and revelry erased from both their minds. One by one similar calls erupted from the hills around them and Talek lifted his voice to join them. Vorja’s sword sprang from its place on his hip and the duo flew to answer the call.

Welcome to the (First) Draft: The Revelation of Editing

I’m going to tell you a story. Shocking for a writer, I know. It’s about a young boy with a vivid imagination, a sarcastic sense of humor and a yearning to share his visions with someone else. He decides that person will be his computer (I never said he was a social butterfly). As driven as he is to write, he is paralyzed by the feeling that each word must be carefully selected to paint his tale. I am here today to laugh at this little boy, which I’m totally allowed to do, since he was me. But shame on anyone else who laughed at a poor little tyke!

Back in the day (I’m not that old, I swear) I had no concept of this nebulous concept we call editing. I was engaged in the practice of trying to edit as I wrote. Turns out that was a bad idea (at least for me). First drafts are like little tiny ducklings. They are fragile, in need of nurturing, covered in feathers, and this metaphor may have gone off the rails a bit. But they really do need a safe space (read; free of editing) to let the story unfold.

The first draft is where you get the first semblance of your story on paper. It doesn’t have to be perfect (spoilers, it probably won’t be) and that’s okay. The most important part is to get it down. Let it be messy and confusing. Mine certainly are. Use cliches, boring dialogue and telling instead of showing if you have to. Yes, I know those are usually things to be avoided but we’ll fix them later, I promise. For now keep the internal filter off and let the ideas flow unhindered, then you can go back and make it all polished and sparkly.

For me, learning this was a huge relief. Armed with this knowledge I took a new approach, and the results were pleasantly surprising. I find that I do a much better job of shaping a chapter after I see what the whole thing is supposed to look like, more or less. That is probably the take home message here. That is if you want to take my words home after just meeting them.

Your first draft is just that: a first attempt.There is no pressure to get it just right.

You can beat yourself up to your heart’s content when it’s time to edit. To illustrate this process in a perfectly scientific manner is my dear friend, Captain Jack Sparrow.

Taking the Plunge: The jump from passtime to professional writing

When I was writing purely as a hobby, it was hard to envision how anyone could take something like writing and try to put it to an organized schedule. It was something I picked up when inspiration sparked, and I put it on the back burner whenever the mood (or life) dictated I do so. It was comfortable and in some ways it was easy. It was also not the way to get a novel written. My first real taste of organized writing was my participation in Nano’s (National Novel Writer’s Month) summer camp back in 2013. I met the goal of 50,000 words in 30 days and I learned a lot about writing in the process. Particularly my writing needs.

I was once a dedicated outliner. Nothing got written before it was placed in the almighty plot outline *bows*. I will say that back when I wasn’t writing regularly (I would go several weeks without looking at something, even if I was in the middle of a scene) outlines helped keep me focused when I might otherwise have forgotten why I laid something out the way I did. Nano brought the necessity of an outline into question for me. *Gasp* Blasphemy, I know. I relied on the outline to organize the big plot events, but I started to realize dialog, characterization and back story was done just as easily (if not better) when it was organic. It was an epiphany for me. Conversations didn’t have to be road maps explaining the route from one plot point to the next. They were a chance to let your characters take on a life of their own.

Cut to my current style of writing. There was a plot outline when I started my novel. (I look back at it occasionally and laugh now). What looked to be two chapters in the outline wound of being almost five chapters of the actual novel. So I soon learned that the outline helps for getting the big picture, but it shouldn’t get in the way once the story gets going.

Revisiting the idea of trying to fit a creative enterprise into a timeline, I was pretty nervous about delivering my chapters on schedule. Sure, I had done it for Nano, but that was only one month and I didn’t expect anyone to read what came out the other end.

I remember thinking “How am I ever going to write consistently every day?” The answer was “You make yourself do it” and also “You probably won’t.”

Discipline had to come into play big time. I created a ritual for myself. I set aside one to two hours a day exclusively for writing. Once I found my natural pace I set tentative word count goals. Some days the ideas flowed nicely. Others I felt like I was fighting for each and every word. But I learned I could do it (with the liberal use of editing, which I will discuss in another post).

Now for the “you probably won’t” bit. The writing process isn’t all writing. For some there is outlining beforehand and for most there is a good deal of research scattered in. Just this week I sat down for a two hour session, of which I believe I actively wrote for maybe half an hour. The rest was spent digging for articles and pictures to help give my fictional prototype weapon some real world credibility. I also spend more days editing and revising than actually writing the first draft. There will be days when simply don’t meet your goal for any number of reasons. Sometimes life gets in your way and sometimes your brain takes a union break. It happens, and that’s okay.

So, here’s the moral of the story (according to me, an unreliable narrator at best). Learn how you like to write naturally and what works best for you in terms of results. The two don’t always line up perfectly, and I’ve found it takes some time and experimentation to get a feel for it. That time and experimentation is worth it. Secondly, sometimes there is no substitute for some dogged application of elbow grease. Finally, Murphy is always waiting just out of sight to screw with your best laid plans. Be flexible in your planning so he doesn’t break you.

If what I have outlined above sounds scary to those of you contemplating taking your writing to a new level, let me put you at ease. It is very scary. Or at least it feels that way at first. But it will start to fall into place once you establish a routine, find a rhythm, and get out of your story’s way once it has momentum. Seriously, don’t try to stop it yourself. You might get flattened, and that would be sad.

Surprise! You’re an author now!

If you had approached me even two years ago and told me I would be a signed author today, I would have snorted, then realized you weren’t joking, then said “I doubt it.” I’ve always had stories rattling around in my head and I’ve been writing many of them down since middle school. Despite that I never really considered myself as a serious writer. I had never thought about writing as more than a hobby and almost none of my stories were actually finished. I decided I wanted some of that to change. I decided to get more serious about my writing, if only for the sake of getting better at it.

Over the summer I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and noticed a friend had shared the link to a short story contest. The host was a brand new publishing group, and the topic was right up my alley; super powers. As luck (or fate) would have it, I was in the process of writing a piece on just that. What really drew me in was the promise of a full service edit for all entries received. Here was a chance to get some feedback from someone who really knew what they were talking about!

A few weeks later I had submitted two short stories for the competition, and was feeling pretty accomplished with that. I get an email back from the guy running the competition about my first story. He liked the idea and he gave me great feedback on everything from sentence structure to the premise of the story. He was knowledgeable, straight forward and extremely helpful. Then I hear back about my second story. He loves the idea. He wants to see more of it. Then the bombshell: he wants to sign me and publish my work!

After quite a bit of disbelief, jumping up and down like a toddler, and some serious consideration I signed on as an author with Rambunctious Ramblings Publishing Incorporated. It has been an awesome journey with a great group of writers and staff members at every step. They were a brand new group, but I was also a brand new writer. The opportunity to learn and grow along with them just felt like a natural fit to me.

I don’t know if I believe in fate or blind luck (although I do believe in the will of the Force), but my experience so far has confirmed something I hadn’t embraced about myself until recently.

“I am a writer. I have stories to tell, and now I have a chance to share them with the world.”

Or at least the chunk of the world that checks out my book once it’s finished. There will be plenty more rambling from me about me, my work, and my experiences in publishing so far, but I’ll regale you with them another time. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you’ll follow along with me on my journey!