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Metal Angel

~ I remain, though dreams are shattered, forever awaiting the return of light…

Metal Angel

Category Archives: Creative Writing

Almost camp time again…

15 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, Daily Drivel, Escape From Reality, Fun Stuff, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Random Tangents, Random Thoughts, Randomness, Writing

≈ 1 Comment

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creative writing, NaNoWriMo, writing

CNW_Participant

 

Yes it’s almost that time again…

I’ll be joining the usual list of suspects as a member of Silver Beaver Cabin for the third session of Camp NaNoWriMo in a row April 1st-30th of this year. Camp is a little more relaxed an affair than regular NaNoWriMo in November of each year. Not only can you set your own word count goal, but you can also choose to work on what inspires you whether it be fiction, non-fiction, screenplays, book covers, or illustrations. Being able to set your own goal, can also make it a good test run for people that want to attempt NaNo, without all the pressure of the 50k goal right from the beginning.

My project for this session of camp seems to be coming out quite differently than normal. I know my setting, and a rather detailed cast of characters, and I have a general idea of who they are and how they relate to one another. What is the issue then? I have no plot. To quote Chris Baty: “No plot, no problem.”

I am what we NaNoers like to call a “Pantser.”

I write entire novels by pulling them out of thin air as I go along. Rarely if ever, is anything I write planned in advance, except brief little snippets of scenes throughout the story I have foreseen ahead of time. The getting from point A to point B stuff is always an interesting feat for me. I’ve been known to skip or gloss over entire sections of novels to keep momentum getting to the next part when I don’t know what to write in between two sections. Loss of momentum, not just perfectionism is what kills many stories before they even see light of day.

That’s the point of NaNo, get it on paper, go back and fix it later…

Don’t be afraid to make mistakes…mistakes are what editing is for. You can’t be afraid of writing something that completely sucks in the beginning. Everyone, even a lot of famous authors are convinced that their first drafts are drivel. (and they usually are)

Get it on paper, save the fear and self loathing for this masochistic thing we like to call editing…that comes in December…or May…or August.

See you all at Camp! Someone better save me some smores!

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Why write about the hard stuff?

04 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, Daily Drivel, Faith, In Hindsight, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Random Thoughts

≈ 2 Comments

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anxiety, creative writing, depression, writing

1_hope_quotes_love.com_Someone asked me recently why a lot of the stories I write contain such damaged characters. I’ve been asked more than once why the stories often have a melancholy tone, or deal with difficult subjects. I’m sure many people are skilled at writing stories that are sunny escapeism, but those don’t seem to be the sort of characters that come to me with stories to tell.

I get the inspiration for my stories through a variety of places, music, dreams, and sometimes stories of their own lives that people have told me over the years, though no one character in my novels exactly resembles any one specific person. Sometimes when one of my characters deals with a difficult past, or a disturbing situation, it may be as simple as trying to work those thoughts, or that situation out in my own mind. I will likely never tell which ones are real, and which ones only happened on paper unless asked by someone privately to tell them.

Sometimes the point is to not ignore or gloss over the difficult things in life, but to learn to live on in spite of them. Living on afterward is not always easy, but hopefully in the end, these stories prove there is hope, that as long as life continues that better days are surely coming. Perfect days do not exist surely, but better ones…

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Yay I won!

30 Thursday Apr 2015

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NaNoWriMo, writing

Camp-Winner-2015-Twitter-Profile

Posted by Aurora | Filed under Creative Writing, Fun Stuff, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Quizzes & Other Fun Stuff, Quizzes & Other Fun Stuff

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A Lifetime Of Adventure

25 Saturday Oct 2014

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, Finland, Fun Stuff, Metal, Music, NaNoWriMo, Nightwish, Randomness, Rock

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Finland, Metal, Music, Nightwish

It has been awhile since I have shared any music videos on my blog. I first heard this song a few nights ago and absolutely fell in love with it, and just had to share it here. This is definitely going to end up on my list of songs to write to for NaNoWriMo this November.

Writer’s group writing prompt for July (#2)

18 Thursday Jul 2013

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, My Writing, Writing

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NaNoWriMo, writing

 One day, at your local library, you are looking around the very back shelves. There is a particularly boring looking book there, but for some reason it catches your interest and you find yourself removing it from the shelf. However, as soon as you move the book, the bookcase opens in like a door, revealing a deep dark tunnel.

I had never thought to look through the dusty, moth-eaten tomes in the historical section of the library until that afternoon, not until local history and genealogy had caught my attention, since moving to the city only a short time before. This building was known to have quite a history of its own, having survived a pair of wars mostly intact, with the exception of having been looted and partially burned during one unfortunate siege.
Sadly, even with the outcry from local interest groups, and the city preservation group, the building would most likely be torn down to make way for a new housing development, if a reason besides its age couldn’t be found to make it worth preserving. There were threats of imminent domain, and in an effort to appease, the neighborhood had been promised a shiny new and updated building a few blocks over to replace the present one, but that did little to quell the anger, of what sadly seemed a vocal minority. The mayor, city council and zoning board only seemed concerned with the money they believed the new development was poised to begin bringing.

The cellar stacks weren’t off limits to be explored, and read while in the building, but research materials, and books considered antiques, were not permitted to leave the cellar. The air was cool there, as I wove between the many rows of shelves, into the oldest part of the dimly lit chamber, where the air smelled faintly of dust, old paper, and cedar blocks placed among the rows of books to keep moths from chewing at the bindings.
I hadn’t seen much of interest in that section, the books seemed to be mostly old agricultural journals, and plans for antiquated machinery. I am sure they would hold collectors value for someone, but outside of being donated to a museum, I could scarcely imagine what could be done with them when this library closed, if they decided packing them up and moving them wasn’t worth doing.
Row after row of books, passed by in their dusty sameness, before I stopped to look at one, a bit intrigued. It was smaller than most others; its cover was soot stained and illegible. It seemed quite odd that they would re-shelve a book that was in such deplorable condition. I suppose that tucked back into a corner as it was, in the dimly lit room, it was easily overlooked, as the cellar was rarely visited, and dimly lit in comparison to the rest of the building, with the exception of the small reading area near the stairs that lead to the main part of the building.
Intrigued I went to pluck the small book off the shelf, wanting to at least let someone on staff know about what I had found, but the book would only tilt, not budge from the shelf. As I tugged harder there was an audible click and a groan as the heavy bookshelf in front of me began to swing inward away from me, vanishing into darkness. My stomach tied up in knots at that point, but curiosity won out, as I fished my penlight out of my backpack, and shone it into the dark corridor that had just opened up behind what had seemed until then to be a solid stone wall.
A short distance beyond the doorway, the tunnel brought me to a set of curving stone stairs, that while covered in cobwebs seemed sturdy enough, and beyond that another closed, but unbolted door swung in with a groan, with considerable effort as I leaned against it. There was what seemed a cool draft as the door came open. Nothing seemed to stir within, and the air smelled of dust, and cobwebs and drop clothes covered everything inside the room.
I lifted the nearest cloth half expecting something to jump out at me, Having seen far too many horror movies was making my imagination run away with me, before I took a breath and scolded myself as I drug the cloth to the floor. Under it was what seemed to be a very ornately carved heavy wooden table, and on it small chests, that were sadly locked, sitting among the chests were several sets of what appeared to be fine silver place settings, and boxes with china. I would have begun to wonder if I’d walked into an ordinary storage room, it the stuff didn’t look at least a couple of hundred years old.
My eyes got as big as saucers as I moved through the room, tossing aside the other drop clothes to see what was underneath. There seemed to be a treasure trove of artwork, antique furnishings, and more locked chests, of which I could only begin to guess the contents. By then I was filthy and my hair was filled with dust, and my heart pounded as I tried to decide exactly what to do with what I had discovered. My conscience would have eventually won out even if most of it wasn’t too heavy to carry away.
I tried not to yell incoherently when I raced back out of the cellar to the front desk, and tried to get the attention of the head librarian. She looked at me quite nervously, probably because of how filthy I was when I told her something had happened in the cellar that she needed to see. It was almost closing time by then, so she and another couple of the ladies followed me. I was nervous when I lead her back toward the door, which I had reclosed behind me when I went out again to keep someone else from stumbling in. Her jaw dropped open as wide as my own had when I pulled at the book and the door swung inward. The ladies were all but shaking as they looked over the contents of the room, wondering if what was inside could be the answer to their prayers when it came to saving their lovely old building from the wrecking ball.
They unveiled their find in front of the police and the local media only a short time later. It turns out to have contained most of the treasures that had been feared lost before the battle that had partially burned the oldest section of the building. The original curator had taken care to hide everything in the hidden cellar vault he had prepared when he heard the armies were drawing near. He had however been killed not long after repairing the building just before the war ended, telling no one what he had secreted away there. The developers thankfully gave up trying to tear down the building, and had instead chosen to build around it.
As for myself, I must confess my inner magpie got the better of me. That day, I slipped into my backpack the one small beautifully carved chest for which there seemed to be a key. After hiding it away for some time, I finally mustered the courage to open it one evening when I was alone in my room. It contained a stack of love letters written in beautiful handwriting, a lock of hair wrapped in a square of linen, a framed portrait of what seemed to be a lovely young woman, and a small child. Wrapped inside a square of velvet inside a small silver box was a ring, a large opal in a delicate setting of gold and silver vines.
More than once I pondered over whether or not I should have kept what I had taken. After a while of my nagging conscience getting the better of me, I still hadn’t returned it, but instead had begun to research, just who the author of the letters was, and if someone, anyone, was still around to pass them down to. Part of me thought it would be a shame to see them auctioned off with the rest of the treasure.
It hadn’t taken as much digging around as I had thought, the letters having been written by the wife os the library’s curator, who had passed on a few months before the fire. Their daughter had by then married, and had one surviving child, a daughter, the trail from there seemed to become more difficult to follow, but part of me felt obligated to try. I could at least give someone that much back, even if I never breathed a word of how I had come across it, or where it had come from.
Someday, someone would get an envelope with the portrait, the letters and the ring inside, and a typed letter explaining why. To me it seemed rather romantic that all of his own the curator had taken time to hide, were those things that meant the most to him, most likely to pass on to his daughter at a future time that never came. As for the box, I planned to keep it, if nothing else but for the memories. Maybe I will hide a special thing or two of my own inside, and wait for someone to discover it one day, and wonder about who I was, and what was closest to my heart. Maybe I’m just a sucker for happy endings.

(sorry if the story seems a bit convoluted….I was half asleep when I wrote it. Ya gotta write while everyone else sleeps sometimes)

Drawing a blank

10 Wednesday Jul 2013

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, Daily Drivel, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Writing

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Tags

anxiety, NaNoWriMo, writing

writer's block

Ah writer’s block, why won’t you leave me?

I’ve never had such a difficult time coming up with new story ideas as I have this last couple of years, and the last year especially. I used to be full of ideas. I still have several ideas that may work for a shorter project, but nothing I can see stretching into a full length novel. Unfortunately full length novels are kind of the point of NaNoWriMo, or getting published in general.

I’ve got characters sitting here waiting to talk, but no idea where the plot of the novel would otherwise be going, for at least 3 different projects I haven’t written a single word of. I know I should tell myself, I’ll never know if they would work or not if I don’t try. People would probably question my sanity if this one project took the only bunny trail I can think of to take with it.

Maybe I just worry too much about messing up…

Or that it won’t be good enough…

I am a little afraid if I don’t think of a plan, whatever I write will turn into a long pointless ramble. Before when I have begun projects that way it has taken me several additional months to a year or more to finish them.

Those projects admittedly didn’t turn out all that horrible…

Why am I still so worried?

Words Forbidden

05 Wednesday Jun 2013

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, Daily Drivel

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

daily prompt, fiction, NaNoWriMo, writing

I am going to take a note from Cranky and attempt one of these daily prompt dohickies as a story.

Daily Prompt: Never

“Reading for pleasure is strictly forbidden, all citizens are restricted to only texts containing news and information pertaining to your assigned occupational designation.”

The words were printed in large bold red letters on the walls of the public library, which the last several decades had only contained government-approved non-fictional titles. Everything was now controlled by your ID card, where you were permitted to live, what job you were assigned to, what class you were permitted to marry into, and even what out of the vast troves of books within the library’s collection you were permitted to read.

Stories were now only told in hushed whispers, behind closed doors and in secret, much in the tradition of our ancient ancestors, before the age of written language. The few unapproved books that had survived the purge, were considered more precious than gold, and kept hidden away, or were in the hands of only the most wealthy, who were still as a privilege of their class permitted access. Were anyone of a lower class caught with even a few written pages, they would surely vanish, most never to be heard from again. The government knew well the power of words, words lead to ideas, and nothing was more dangerous than an underclass capable of thinking for themselves.

There are universes of stories in my head that will never be put to paper, but only heard by the few dear enough to me to listen. They are stories not only of my own, but of a time long ago, before the words were forbidden. I am young enough to still want to live, but too old to care if they come for me now. Someone must remember, someone must pass these stories on, before they are all but lost forever.

Writer’s block

15 Wednesday May 2013

Posted by Aurora in Boredom, Creative Writing, Daily Drivel, Escape From Reality, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Random Tangents, Random Thoughts, Technical Difficulties, Writing

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Boredom, imagination, NaNoWriMo, writer's block, writing

Yes this has been me as of late, well, minus the viking helmet. As much of a plan as I may have for one story or another, the words and sometimes the motivation seems to evaporate before I get it written down on paper.

When did writing become so hard? I remember a time when I was young and it used to be so easy. I used to have a million ideas, and I would wake up in the middle of the night and write all sorts of things that couldn’t wait until morning. I guess I have no idea where my enthusiasm went, probably drowned out by my now adult life, and my seemingly never ending ungodly stress level.

Sometimes I worry my writing won’t be good enough. No one close to me ever seems to want to read it anymore, not that they ever read it to begin with. I’ve had a printed copy of my second novel sitting here on the book shelf and year and a half now, and even my hubby hasn’t given it so much as a second glance.

Several years ago my friend Penny would have been standing next to my printer with her hands out waiting for the next chapter. She died from cancer a few years ago, and finishing a project since then is so much harder, especially without my one person fan club, and her encouragement. That’s one of only a very long list of things I still miss about her, and always will.

Penny didn’t just passively read what I had written, but loved to give me her input, encouraging things she believed would make what I had written even better. I think all of us need that sometimes. We need to hear not only what needs fixing, and what we can do to make improvements, but also what is good and going right. In other words, this is what works, and these are the things that would make it even better.

Sometimes I get so caught up in believing it all has to be perfect the first time, that it completely stops my momentum. I get discouraged believing no one will ever want to read it, no matter how much love and hard work I put into telling the story. I ask myself what I do it all for.

The answer is, it’s because I have to…

If the story doesn’t get told, it is wasted. What good are all the infinite worlds inside your head, if you are the only one that ever journeys into them? I keep trying to remind myself of these things, and keep edging forward, even if baby steps. I don’t want to believe I have an irretrievable imagination. Even if the old ideas won’t return, or seem childish now through older eyes, I hope I haven’t ceased to invent new ideas, new universes, and those that reside in them.

I don’t think my mind would be happy at all, limited to just one world.

Hot Diggity Dog

10 Sunday Mar 2013

Posted by Aurora in Creative Writing, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Writing

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NaNoWriMo, writing

2013-Participant-Facebook-Cover

It’s almost April…and that means, you guessed it, Camp NaNoWriMo!!!

No need to wait for November!

I am especially excited since I had to skip all the festivities last year, since I was kinda busy having a baby and all. I really really hope I can get some writing done. I might have something resembling a shred of a plan, but we will see. I may change my mind on what I wanna write a million times before then.

Stuck…

15 Friday Jan 2010

Posted by Aurora in Boredom, Complaint Department, Creative Writing, Daily Drivel, My Writing, NaNoWriMo, Random Tangents, Random Thoughts, Randomness, Rants, Technical Difficulties

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I’m suffering from a bad case of writer’s block again, and have written only about 3/4 of a chapter in the last week. Part of the reason this is going so slow I believe is the fact that I never have had a plan for where Sorrow’s Moon is going as far as plot, let alone ever had one in mind for how it would end.

There are as always infinite possibilities when it comes to an ending on any story. I do not think that a Pollyanna, happily ever after type ending will suit the story, but neither do I want to leave the characters any worse off or messed up in the head than they already are. I don’t think I’ve ever worked with a cast of characters with so many issues as this bunch started off this novel with. It hasn’t been the easiest story to get out of my head at all.

Maybe its best if I leave this one sit for now at the end of chapter 27, and leave Eric and Devin to live their own lives in my mind for awhile, before I try to peek back in on them after awhile. I know I should probably be writing something else while I am waiting for that to happen, so I’m open to suggestions. Yes I know this leaves three novels floating in various stages of completion. Three completed, three still floating, hopefully someday my batting average will improve I hope.

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