Showing posts with label FictionFriday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FictionFriday. Show all posts

Thursday, 7 April 2011

FictionFriday - an exploration of character through random writing prompts

The Prompt
[Fiction] Friday Challenge #200 for April 8th, 2011

Use this phrase “Looks can be deceiving” as your prompt of theme.

The Character
Chelsea looks like a young Reece Witherspoon

This week I will be exploring the character Chelsea, the protagonist from Book 3 of The Silken Threads series.

Chelsea is the youngest daughter of the 3 Dell girls; she is 17; in her second to last year of high school; and is anything but studious.The Silken Threads is a YA paranormal series focusing on individual character experiences of the afterlife.
*(still bandying about ideas for individual book names)
***
The Flash
"It's not what it looks like."

"Uh-huh." Dario nodded.

"What? It's not! Looks can be deceiving."

Dario smirked, "Sure."

Chelsea tugged the scarf tighter around her throat and grinned, "Besides, I least I got lucky at the party. What did you spend the night doing huh? Running around drooling after my sister no doubt."

Dario blushed, "Drooling yes; your sister - ah nooo!"

The bell rang as Chelsea squealed. Joslin and Angel rushed passed and rolled their eyes.


"Don't be late again Chels, you know Ms Craft has it in for you." Joslin called over her shoulder. Chelsea screwed up her nose and linked arms with Dario. Joslin stopped on the path ahead, "And mum will have a fit!"

"Yeah, yeah." Chelsea and Dario both stuck their tongues out at the older girls and burst into fits of giggles."So do tell, who is the lucky girl then?"

Dario blushed again, "No one, it doesn't matter. Come on or it will be Ms Craft who throws a fit."

"And we don't want to miss that!" they sang together.

At the classroom door Ms Craft caught them in one of her famous death glares, "So nice of you to join us Miss Dell. Mr Tripp, I trust you have your speech prepared?'

"Yes Ms." Dario ducked his head and slipped into his front row seat.

"Yes Ms." Chelsea mimicked as she slid in behind him. "Don't think I've forgotten, at lunch you will tell me who she is or..."

"Or what Miss Dell? If you have so much to say, why don't you collect your paper and come to the front of the room. We would all be delighted to listen to your talk first." The teacher paused for dramatic effect, "You do have it prepared?"

"Ah, well you see Ms, my sister turned 21on the week end see and I sort of didn't get it finished."

"Well you can read what you have then!"

Dario snorted as Chelsea shuffled in her bag for the single sheet of paper she had managed to scribble her ideas on. Friday night was supposed to be a study session where Dario helped her with the stupid speech but it turned out to be a complete right off. After the first joint Dario got in a stupid mood and they started talking about the death again. She was obsessed with death, even more so now that Khai--

"Miss Dell, we haven't got all day."

"Sorry." Chelsea found the note pad and looked at the heading. She swore under her breath and Dario choked on his laughter. "What is this? She hissed.

His shoulders were rocking back and forth with barely contained delight, "It's your speech." He spluttered.

"MISS DELL!"

Chelsea kicked Dario in the shin and he yelped. "Yes Ms, I've found it."Chelsea strengthened her shoulders and walked to the front of the classroom. She would just have to read it in the most serious voice she could muster and hope for the best.

At the front of the room the rest of the students looked at her expectantly. For the most part the faces were friendly, excited looking even. They were hoping for a show: for Chelsea to embarrass herself with her ineptitude once again. At the back Chelsea caught a genuinely friendly eye. Faith Grace gave her a grin and nodded encouragingly. Ok, breath Chels, breath. It took a few seconds to steady her breathing and a nervous twitter rippled through the room in anticipation.

"All right, settle down. Now class, although Chelsea is clearly unprepared, remember she is doing you all a favour by going first and I expect you will give her the silence and time she deserves to get through her piece. This is an assessable item; the grades you receive today will go a long way toward determining your final grades next year. I expect you give this series of speeches the respect they deserve." Ms Craft turned to Chelsea, "Now Chelsea, I understand your topic for discussion was The Possibility of an Afterlife?"

"Yes Ms." Chelsea looked at her paper again and flushed. Dario snorted again. I'll kill him later she thought and then deliberately turned away. Although she could still see his shaking frame in her peripheral vision, it was blurred and much easier to ignore. Taking another deep breathe she launched herself into the speech.

"The Night I Died and Went to Heaven."

Dario couldn't contain himself and burst into fits of laughter. The class twittered with him but Chelsea ploughed on. After a couple of seconds her voice gained strength and she relaxed. The essay wasn't half bad and the class settled in and listened attentively, even Dario shut up and by the time she was finished he had to try hard to not look impressed.

The class broke out in applause and Ms Craft offered her possibly the only genuine smile she would ever offer. "Well done Chelsea, once again you have proved you are more than piggy tails and smiles."

"Thank you Ms." Elated Chelsea slunk low in her seat and silently high fived herself.

Dario twisted in his seat and raised his eyebrow, "What the?"

Chelsea grinned, "I told you looks can be deceiving!"

Ms Craft tapped his desk with her pen, "All right Dario. Let’s see what you have."

Dario gulped and stood up. Chelsea smirked, serves him right for being so smug about the love bite.
***

Read more Fiction Friday stories or Join in

Thursday, 31 March 2011

How to play the name game.

[Fiction]Friday Challenge #201 April 1st 2011

It would seem that celebrities choose some interesting names for their offspring. Write a scene where a (fictional) famous person announces the name of their newest child along with justification or reasons why the name was chosen and their attempt to ‘normalise’ it.

How to play the name game.

I really don't like playing the name game. When I fell pregnant with my children the name game almost had me running for the hills. I'm serious. Seeing as i also hate to run, that was not a practical option so instead I actually considered the possibility of not naming the children. In hindsight I could have done just that: the nicknames-Thang 1 and Thang 2- suit them so perfectly I'm sure our friends and family would have come around eventually. As it turns out I didn't need to panic. You get given nine long, heavy uncomfortable and crampy months for a reason, and not all of those are used to brainstorm names apparently. Go figure!


So in the end our children came, they were named and we moved on. At the time we thought we had done a nice job considering. We came up with unique names, plain names, traditional names and family names. For the boy we settled on a traditional and a family name and the girl we settled on (what we thought was) a very unique name and also a family name. Fast forward five years, enter the school grounds and suddenly every little boy that runs by is called Thang 1 and every sweet little girl in pigtails is Thang 2!


So as I said, I don't like playing the name game. It doesn't matter how hard you try, someone else has used it before you, or someone more famous than you has used it and spelled it way cooler than you could ever have hoped to. What's worse, if you do manage to find a creative; inventive; unique and uber cool name, no sooner will the ink dry on the birth certificate than someone will have blogged about it and by the time your child arrives at the school gates, every other boy/girl within a two year age range will present with the exact same name or some lame derivative!


So this time we didn't try to come up with a cool, unique or "different" name. As I hide out in my super expensive and lush delivery suite in the so totally private hospital that even I don't know where I am, screaming bloody murder at my mega famous rock star husband, I am completely at peace with playing the name game. At the first scan, 8 months ago, when we discovered our third child was to be the next ultra gorgeous, supremely talented and all time most photographed famous child in the WORLD, we agreed.We just wont play.
So go on, I dare you. Name your child after mine.


The spectacularly talented and famous musician/actor/director/producer/model/designer's
 Jessmica and Hawko Thang
today announced the arrival of the third biological member of their ever increasing brood-
 Thang 3.

A diversion from the usual

Due to the nature of this weeks Fiction Friday I have not explored any of the characters from my current MS as originally planned. This is because none of my characters are mega famous rock stars who need to justify the naming of their latest child. I will get back to it next week however - or will I? Looks can be deceiving...

Friday, 25 March 2011

An Exercise in Character Exploration - Fiction Friday #200

Fiction Friday for me is a way to explore the characters in my head. These characters practice the art of insidious whispering. What these characters have to say is nearly always strange but sometimes wonderful. These characters usually end up the host of short stories or novels.

Much of last year my writing was dominated by the exploration of the character Jax from my second MS Jax@theinceptionofchaos. I have now finished plotting the first of the many adventures I am sure Jax has planned and I find my attention has turned back toward my first MS Elysium.

My plans over the next few months are to explore the characters from the tentatively named Elysium. This novel is a series of short stories linking many different characters. I am yet to decide which character is the main character.

The characters – Angel, Joslin, Sara, Chelsea, Faith, Khai, Wynn, Beatrice, Grant, Dan & Jules

My hopes are that Fiction Friday will help me to explore each of these characters in turn and discover just who’s story it is that I am trying to tell (or which character resonates most with my audience). Please feel free to comment, blatantly shout down or barrack for your favourite. Cheers.

Now I’ll stop rambling and get to it.
***

Fiction] Friday Challenge #200 for March 25th , 2011


For some extra fun each month, we are utilising ”Story Starter” die. Look at each face of the dice, ponder on its significance to a character, setting or plot you may have bubbling away.. now write – using these as your inspiration.
 Die - 1.Lightbulb
       - 2.Little harmless human with big scary shadow

ANGEL


 Jacqueline McKenzie to play Angel in the  movie.


“Who is Angel Grace? What does Angel Grace want? When--”


“Seriously? What is this, some sort of character profile?” Angel strained to see over the guy’s touch pad. “Where am I anyway? And why do you look so familiar?”

Angel decided to ignore the lopsided grin he gave her and tried to work out where she knew him from. It wasn’t recently, that much she could work out.

“You’re having trouble placing me?” He grinned even more, so annoying! “Should I give you a hint?”

Angel shook her head and looked around. Maybe she was dreaming. The wall to her left looked kind of blurry and the floor felt spongy beneath her feet. The last thing she could remember was climbing out of the car and the phone ringing then, bam – the light bulb in the sun appeared to go out and next thing she knew she found herself standing in the middle of this room.

Holy crap! Maybe she was dead! “Am I dead?”

“No, you are not dead.” His stupid smile stretched into a wide smirk. “You can’t be dead.”

“Uh, and why not?”

“Because you have to first be alive before you can be pronounced dead, and you my friend, are not a living kind of gal.”

“What does that mean: I’m not a living kind of girl? How would you know what sort of girl I am?”

The boy shrugged and checked his touch pad again. “Look, it says right here.” He turned the pad around so she could see the front. On the screen tiny writing scrawled by at a pace too fast to read and a row of fast moving pictures appeared to be photo’s taken from her private album. He tapped the screen and the tiny writing jerked to a stop, “See here? It says – Angel Grace, not a living kind of girl.”

A chill ran up Angel’s spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her chest felt tight, kind of like after her mum died and she had the panic attack that had everyone rushing around trying to help but this time she didn’t panic. As crazy as it sounded, it all felt strangely familiar, like she had heard it all before.

"You look a little pale, do you want to sit down?” The guy waved his hand and the blurry walls melted away. Green grass curled up beneath her bare feet and the blue sky stretched out to the horizon. He offered Angel a seat at the small table and chairs which appeared miraculously in front of them. Angel sat with a thump.

“Whoa.” The guy stepped back, his eyes fixed on something behind her.

“What whoa?” Angel twisted to see what he was looking at and caught a glimpse of her shadow. It was huge and fierce. Angel blushed, “Oh that.”

“Oh that? Does THAT happen often?”

“Sometimes.”

“Huh.” With one eye on her shadow and one on her he typed something into his touch pad and then sat down beside her. “So you really don’t remember me huh?”

She shook her head, “Sorry.”

He laughed, “Don’t be sorry.” Offering his hand he said, “I’m Grant.”

Angel shook his hand. His palm was soft and warm and it felt really nice, like a...

No. Stop. Angel pulled her hand away quickly and he grinned again.

“Are you some sort of kidnapping weirdo kind of guy that is going to mess with my head and convince me to do your evil bidding?”

Grant’s shoulder’s shook with laughter, “My evil bidding?”

Angel flushed furiously and he laughed harder. “Look buddy, just tell me where the hell I am so I can work out how to get home.”

He stopped laughing and put on a mock serious face, “Well, you’re not in Hell that’s for sure and as for home, you’re already here.”

“What?”

This time his face was seriously serious, “This is Elysium, welcome home Angel.”


***


How Fiction Friday works. It’s easy to do.


  • Check this page for this week’s theme or challenge. Prompts are published each month to give you plenty of notice
  • Spend at least 5 minutes composing something original based on the theme or challenge. (and keep writing…)
  • But, remember, no editing. This is to inspire creativity not stifle it.
  • On Friday, simply post what you wrote to your own blog.
  • If you utilise social networking, Tweet your story using our hashtag of #fictionfriday AND post it up onto Facebook.
  • Then come back to Write Anything and leave the link in the comment section below.
  • Consider recording it using AudioBoo and submitting it on Sunday for our Spoken Sunday Prompt
  • You may also like to Tweet other peoples links from this site as they are posted using the hashtag #fictionfriday afterwards.
  • To participate further, just go visit some of the other links left by other participants, read what they wrote, and leave a comment. Just be sure that your comment is constructive—this is, after all, a meme to give us all a little writing practice.
  • You may also like to Tweet other peoples links from this site as they are posted – and our hashtag of #fictionfriday

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

Jax lost in the Christmas rush


News Flash

@ the inception of chaos - Jax is missing in action somewhere in the Australian outback.

Authorities have planned search and rescue operations but they do not hold much hope of finding her before Christmas.

Family and Friends turn to trusted author TBell with hope.

TBell must break their hearts, she anticipates not having the time to find Jax until the new year.

Friends have no choice but to wait anxiously for the New Year.


Have a very Merry Christmas
 and a very Happy New Year everyone.

See you all again in January.

Friday, 12 November 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #181 for Nov 12th, 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #181 for Nov 12th, 2010


Utilise the T.S.O.D (Traveling Shovel Of Death) – a NaNoWriMo tradition. The rules are simple. In your story, kill someone. With a shovel.

Once again we will be exploring the character Jax from current WIP @jax #theinceptionofchaos

*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

***
Simo stood up and brushed herself down, looking around suspiciously.
'What's up?'
Simo lifted her head and smiled, 'Nothing.’ she said over brightly.
Jax watched her fidget for a while, 'You never did tell me how you came to find me out here.'
Simo laughed and avoided looking at her, 'Are we back on that again?'

Just then Jax heard the rumble of a car. She let it drop. No cars had passed out here for days, the road in was too treacherous. The ride Jax was counting on was more of the propeller variety. She grabbed Simo's arm and pulled her under the tree but Simo pulled free and ran towards the noise, her arms waving frantically.
'Simo' Jax cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted but Simo didn't listen.
Shit, shit, shit. She searched the ground for a weapon, whoever it was way out here in the middle of the northern outback was not on a friendly sightseeing tour.

Trying not to stray too far from the tree's cover Jax scoured the ground, the only thing that could be of any use was an old shovel leaning stoutly against the trunk. Rusted and splintered Jax couldn't remember it being there earlier, or how it came to be leaning against a tree in the dessert anyway, but she didn't have time to ponder. A dusty Troop carrier came into sight and Jax realised Simo had climbed into the troop tray.
Shit, shit, shit. She looked at her transmitter and noticed a second red light blinking.

She sent a silent prayer to her mother, or whoever might be listening, then picked up the shovel and stepped behind the tree. She didn't have time to wait for Triton's rescue. The Troop carrier skidded to a halt a few metres away and Simo jumped out. Her eyes were wide and terrified, which could have something to do with the crazy eyed Thug pressing a rifle into her back.
'Where is she?' he growled.
Another Thug jumped down out of the driver's seat, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder.

Jax pressed herself so close to the tree that a thick stump pressed hard against her pelvis. Rude and totally inappropriate jokes sprang to her mind. She rolled her eyes in disgust, not now!
Simo searched frantically but Jax disguised herself too well nowadays. The Thugs were pretty thick and stuck together. The driver even left the keys in the ignition with the engine running. Shifting a little to relieve the stump pressed into her groin she scraped her boot against the tree and the Thug swung around, his eyes falling on the shovel.

'There she is.' he called and the other guy and Simo swung around to look.
Jax shrugged and stepped out from behind the tree, 'Here I am. Now boys, what can I do for you?'
She lifted the shovel to shoulder height and gave it a practice swing, hoping like hell they didn't shoot.
When no shots were fired she lowered the shovel to the ground and leaned on it like a walking stick. Well she would have if she hadn't first lost her balance. With the shovel head no longer attached the handle skidded on the hard ground and splintered into two. Shocked she regained her composure only to realise Simo was screaming. She looked up and gagged. There was blood everywhere and the head of the shovel was lodged into the head of the first Thug. The second Thug was thrashing on the ground with a bullet hole in his neck. How did that happen?

Not giving it a second thought Jax realised this was there chance and dropped what was left of the handle, grabbed Simo and sprinted for the truck. Simo tried to get away from her and ran around madly like a chook with it's head cut off. Jax slapped her twice, shoved her in the truck and jumped in the driver's seat.
'You could have killed me!'Simo sobbed.
Jax shrugged, 'Yeah well, you almost had me killed by running off like that so we're even.'
Simo stared at her for a moment and then burst into fits of hysterical laughter, 'Oh my God. Oh my God,’ she panted through her tears, 'did you see the shovel?' She shuddered, 'It sliced his head almost right off!'

Jax pressed her foot to the accelerator and screeched around in a wild donut, 'Yeah, well we're not out of trouble yet!' She pointed behind them and Simo looked into the back of the truck. Somehow the Thug with the shovel implanted in his face dragged himself across the dirt and was now clinging on to the tailgate for dear life.Jax swerved madly across the hard baked earth trying to shake him but the madman would not be shook. His fingers clung to the tray and he slowly heaved himself, inch by bloody inch up onto the tray.

'You have to go back there.'
Simo looked at her like she was crazy, 'Are you crazy?'
'Uh uh' Jax shook her head.
'And do what?'
Jax shrugged, 'Dunno. Smack his fingers?'

***

for more Jax


Friday, 5 November 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #180

*Your Main Character picks a sliver of glass from their sleeve and gravely inspects it…
(now keep writing)

@jax #theinceptionofchaos continues from challenge 179
*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

***
Jax picked a sliver of glass from her sleeve and gravely inspected it. The waiter tut tutted as he swept up the broken medicine vials, 'Now that attitude will never do!'

Blood appeared at the tip of her finger. She put it in her mouth to stop the flow and studied her waiter. He wore a frilly white apron over a severely pressed dress shirt and tailored slacks. His hair flopped annoyingly over one eye and he kept blowing puffs of air from the corner of his mouth in an attempt to shift it.
The silver platter, sans head, crashed against the far wall. Jax dared a peek over the edge of the bed to see where Nix's head rolled to. Under the dust ruffle she caught a glimpse of his soft sandy hair and her stomach did a little flip. This situation could get a little sticky.

The man busily cleaned the tray in a fussy, bordering on obsessive compulsive, kind of way. She considered trying out the self defense Nix taught her back at HQ but then it occurred to her that it hadn't done much good for the master and she never was a very good student.

Finished with the tray he turned to Jax and offered her his hand, 'I like your style. I'm Luca, maybe we could be friends?'
His voice was softer than his build belied and the request sounded more like a little boy's plea to be loved than a fierce captors brainwashing attempt.
'Jax' she croaked. His hand felt like an over sized baseball mitt in her grasp.
'So, what do you say?' he smiled hopefully.
'About what?'
'Friends?'
'Uh-sure?'
'Great!'He clapped his hands like a over excited school girl getting ready to meet her favourite vampire/secret love interest and then daintily perched himself on the edge of her bed. 'I've been waiting for you to wake up for weeks. It's so quiet around here when nothings happening- you're the most exciting thing that has happened all month.'

Confused and still a little groggy from whatever drugs she had been forced fed Jax didn't know what to say so she said nothing. Luca didn't notice, he kept babbling on about how boring his job was and how crazy Aggie (Agnes? she asked and he nodded) could be. Ever since she cut off her arm...
'Wait!' Jax sat up, 'She cut off her arm?'
'Yes!' Luca squealed in delight. Out in the corridor a noise like a chair scraping across tiles cut him off. Luca clamped his hand over his mouth and his eyes darted to the door. Jax held her breath but after a moment, when no-one appeared, Luca relaxed, 'It was drama, drama, drama around here for days after that! You should have seen her, she looked a fright. And poor Gregor, oh the poor baby was in such distress!'
'Gregor was here? After the arm, thing...'
'Ooh, does someone have a bit of a crush?' Luca teased.
'What? No!' Jax looked away, 'No way. I am just interested is all. The last time I saw Gregor he was on my side and he was heading into a building to save our friends. Next thing I know he ambushes me on the job, Agnes is his mother and she knocks me out and I wake up here. God knows how long I've been here and you come in with a head on a plate and want to be my friend!'

'Phew' he fanned his face with his over sized baseball mitt hands and winked, 'don't get your knickers in a knot.' He shuffles about on the bed so he is laying down with his head over the edge. A bit more shuffling occurs and he sits up, Nix's head in his hands. He tosses it between his palms like a basketball.

The vacant eyes roll around in their sockets and Jax gags.
'Stop it!'
Surprised Luca looks at his hands, 'Hmm, sorry.' He puts the head on the platter and covers it over with a starched linen napkin. 'So you have questions?' He asks.
Jax rolls her eyes.
'Ok, shoot. Ask me anything!'
***

or

***

Jax picked a sliver of glass from her sleeve and gravely inspected it. High on adrenalin she giggled at the sight of blood. A warm trickle oozed down her left leg and her head felt hot. The remains of broken window crunched under her feet as she hid behind a swath of bamboo. On top of the giggles her head wouldn't stop spinning and shakes surged through her weak body. All she could do to stay still was think about the boat out at sea waiting to pick her up like a forgotten crab pot.

 The curtain twitched and a red hibiscus dropped to the ground. Luca's signal. She wanted to reach up drag him from behind the broken window  for one last hug but decides that would not be the wisest of moves when making the great escape.

It's now or never. Ducking her head and scurrying like a frightened crab across the sand she plowed into the clear warm water, sending up a flurry of white foam and promptly  froze.

The wild surf scared her, swimming in the ocean was something she would never get used to, too many creatures lurking in the depths waiting to take her as bait. The speck on the horizon, that she could only hope was the boat Triton promised would be waiting for her, seemed impossibly far out to sea. How he  expected her to swim that far out without the aid of a flotation device was beyond her. Clearly he had not heard about the time she sank to the bottom of the pool during the school carnival 50 metre dash.

A shrill whistles cut through her thoughts causing her to throw an anxious glance over her shoulder. The scrubby tropical bush revealed nothing but that was definitely the alarm signal they agreed upon. Jax giggled again imagining the camp Luca putting his fingers to his mouth and producing such a masculine sound.
With a deep breathe and a new found confidence born out of fear of being the head served on a platter to Agnes's next victim, Jax plunged into the surf.

The waves crashed at her feet and sucked the sand out from beneath them. Stumbling to gain her footing she pinched her nose and pitched in head first. The white water rushed around her and dragged her back out to see. She flailed her arms and legs in a pathetic attempt to swim through it and felt relieved as she made some progress. Another wave swallowed her whole, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. As she did over her head she glimpsed what looked like a box shaped balloon with long dangling tentacles. Her brain seized - the Irukandji!
***
copyright T.Bell 2010

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

Meet Jax - the fictional heroine driving this blog

See, I told you, average.



If someone asked you to describe Jax, the first thing you would say is ‘Oh you know, she’s average looking’ and she wouldn’t mind because it’s true.

She’s average height, if a little on the short side, 162cm, not tiny but not tall. Slim but not skinny nor chunky, light brown hair bleached by the sun. Her mum used to say it was honey blond but that was before she was hit by a bus and killed instantly in front of Jax and the entire school. When Jax is feeling down she talks to her mum and remembers the nice things she used to say. Jax would murder me for telling you that!


Anyway her eyes are sometimes green, sometimes grey and sometimes blue, depending on her mood and the time of day. She has straight-ish teeth, a few freckles, a normal sized nose, average smile, and an average figure.

The second thing you would say is ‘Be careful’.

Your listener would probably cock their head to the side and inquire why? You would lean in real close, so your lips are almost brushing their ear. With a quick look over your shoulder to make sure Jax was not around you would say in a hushed whisper, ‘She hears and see’s everything!’

Now, don’t get me wrong, Jax is not nosy, you would reassure your listener, no not at all, in fact she tries her hardest not to pay attention— she just can’t help it.

You see she has 20-20 vision and 100% hearing accuracy, acute attention to detail and a memory to boot. Her mother would tell her she inherited it from her father; he was a mysterious spy working for a top secret government agency. Not that Jax would know him if they bumped into each other on the street. He shot through on a mission long before Jax arrived and he hasn’t been heard from since. Jax’s mother died before Jax had a chance to wrangle any further information out of her.

In a strange twist, Jax actually enjoys her talents but hates the attention people pay to them. Determined to find her father – dead or alive as it may be – Jax really wishes everyone would leave her alone and let her get on with it – people rarely do.

Jax is not the kind of girl that blends into a crowd. If the things I’ve already told you don’t make our average girl stand out, then her smart mouth, clumsy demeanour and quick wit certainly make you sit up and take notice. Kids in school flock to her, parents love her, teachers have tried (and failed) to tame her, and most interesting - the government has their sights set on her.

***

@jax #theinceptionofchaos is the author's current WIP. 

if you are intrigued, join us here for Mayhem&Madness, WordsOnThePage and FictionFriday and witness Jax's character as it unfolds in a series of writing exercises.

Monday, 1 November 2010

Progress of a novice novelist

The journey of first time novelist is indeed an interesting one. Several months ago, Cat and I found ourselves discussing the mountain of projects I had accumulated over the last 12 months. His concern was that I, a woman who has not exercised with any great regularity since she was 15 years old, would not be able to scale the mountain without causing a landslide of epic proportions. I assured him that it wasn't as high as it appeared and I was already at the top.
Cat put his hands on his hips, cocked his head and quite firmly (in a sexy Tony Danza from 'Who's the boss' kind of way) asked me to come down right now!

Now don't get the wrong impression here, Cat is the most understanding and supportive husband a girl with plans could hope for, very rarely does he say no and more often than not he is the one to encourage my harebrained schemes- even the idea I had that involved packing Thing 1 & 2, ourselves and my mother into a camper van and touring New Zealand for two weeks in the middle of the coldest winter ever.As it turned out it was a great holiday and fun was had by all, nevertheless even I have to admit, this year I may have taken on one too many a project.

It started out innocently enough, really. After 17 years I was only 8 units away from completing my degree and I thought to myself  Eight units is only one full-time year of study. I could be finished uni by the time Thing 1 starts school! Over Christmas further rationalising occurred and a serious conversation with mother secured a 2 months visit in the new year. My little mind started ticking over, I could finish the 3rd draft of 'Elysium' while mother spent quality time with the Chillin's all through February/March. Come first term I would be free of my WIP that had dominated most of my head space for the past two years (slowing the progress of the degree somewhat dramatically) and ready to sink my teeth in to full-time study.
Further more, Thing 1 was starting two days in kindy, which I decided would give me some extra time to study.

So far so good, come 30th March, the 3rd & 4th drafts of Elysium were complete and I was able to put it aside for a planned 6 months to mature before tackling the final rewrite. In the mean time I had committed to hosting a Steiner based playgroup in our home one morning a week. I also had agreed to be part of a New School Initiative to start a Steiner School in our region and further I started another book and a second blog. But it was all fine, really I was on top of it.

So although suddenly my days were not as free as I had imagined I happily ticked the months of the calender and managed to keep my head above water. Come the middle of the year I was starting to get antsy and a little bored with how well I was managing it all so I decided to add another few feet to the already extremely high mountain, I committed myself to a Collaborative Writing Project and agreed to pen another book.

Then quite suddenly a friend came to me and very gently asked if I was doing OK? At first I looked at her strangely, smiled through my shock and said 'Yes of course' and promptly started putting the clean laundry in the refrigerator.

I closed the fridge door and paused. My stomach flipped and I found it hard to breath. I rolled my neck to release some tension. It was really sore and tight. I should see a physio I thought. I turned back to my friend and smiled, 'Do you know a good physio?' I asked. She said yes, found me the number and we resumed drinking our wine. Later that night I considered what she had said and dismissed it. The next day after I snapped at Thing 1 unreasonably I dismissed that too. A week later when I sat on the closed toilet seat and wept because I was too tired to have a shower I thought about the comment again. Still I dismissed it.

It was only after Cat  found me perched atop my mountain hissing like a wild animal and firmly asked me to climb down that I actually gave weight to the situation. Okay, I admit it, I think I am super woman.

Yep, that's right, I was raised in an era where I was told I could do it all and I believed it. Delusional for sure but even now, after spending months going to bed at 8pm and being unable to drag myself out of bed in the mornings in any kind of good humor, I still struggle to admit that maybe I don't have to do it all. The trouble is, there is so much that I want to do, so much that I have convinced myself I must do, I find it hard to separate the want from the must.

fast forward a month or two and here we are. I have agreed with Cat that I will focus solely on completing the degree and polishing ' Elysium' to the stage where I can happily start sending it out to agents. This is a good strong sensible plan and it is plans like these that make Cat and I perfect for one another. He allows me to go off on a wild ride of fun and crazy scheming and I allow him to reign me in when I get out of control.

Thus far I haven't found it hard to let go of the obsessive cleaning, that was an easy one. After having a meeting with local councillors regarding the Steiner School I even happily relented on the hardcore campaigning and I have agreed to relinquish our beloved playgroup after this last term of schooling. But...

I have to admit, the extra curricular writing is continuing to grow, much like mushrooms in a dark damp corner. Now the fungus has taken hold, it is proving hard to eradicate and truth be told, I am not trying very hard. There has been no industrial strength fertiliser, no shovels and compost heaps, and certainly no hand weeding will be taking place any time soon. The writing has a mind of it's own and it has planted it's roots firmly in my life and I am happy and comfortable with this development. Thus I have taken the writing underground. It is all very hush hush at the moment and Cat is confident that I am once again safe at the bottom of my perilous mountain. And I am positive Cat will be more than understanding of this little underground activity when I secure my first deal and all is revealed.

So that is where I find myself. I have 2 more units of uni to complete over the Christmas semester, I have no less than four new WIP and I am standing at the bottom of my mountain where it seems I did manage to climb down one step at a time without causing a major landslide. However I must give credit where credit is due, the sides were safely secured with a strong sturdy wire frame provided by my own personal super supportive construction company.

Tell me, do you ever feel like the need to write is almost organic?

Thursday, 28 October 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #179 for Oct 29nd, 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #179 for Oct 29nd, 2010
In most parts of the world, Halloween is celebrated – in some form or another – this weekend. Your challenge this week is to write a horror scene (or something horrific) using a wet noodle, a styrofoam cup and a feather.

jax@theinceptionofchaos- Continued from challenge #178, Jax finds herself in a bit of a pickle...
*first draft
*jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.


***
Wow, it worked fast. Jax woke up under what smelled like a damp pile of feathers, her vision blurred and her head throbbing where the handle of the gun connected with her temple. The last thing she could remember was the look on Agnes’s face when Jax bit her hand in a futile attempt to break free.

A sane human would have reacted in pain— Jax had even hoped for Agnes to loosen her grip providing her with the chance to inflict more damage—no such luck. Agnes, it seemed, was beyond normal human reactions. With a sinister laugh Agnes eyes glinted with evil and without flinching she plunged the needle deep into Jax’s neck. Jax crumpled like a wet noodle.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light in the room her surroundings surprised her. The pile of damp feathers were actually sumptuous soft linen’s, the dampness caused by her own body heat rather than something grungier. A soft lamp glowed in the corner and a fan lazily circled over head. The humidity in the air hung like a wet blanket and through the wooden blinds she could see palm trees dropping their fronds onto a sandy beach.

Jax shook her head sure she must be caught up in a dream, or an illusion of denial in the least. Agnes did not seem in the mood to treat Jax to a little holiday up north. No, Jax was sure what Agnes had in mind was permanent residence somewhere much further south. As in six foot under.

A noise outside the room made her jump. The door opened and a man Jax had never seen before walked in. Jax pulled the covers up to her shoulders and tried to appear nonchalant. Never show fear, the first lesson her mother had taught her when being confronted with a dangerous situation. Sure her mother had been talking about large stray dogs but the same rule surely applied to large strange men?

‘Good-morning. Did you sleep well?’ He pulled a service trolley into the room behind him and began setting up what looked like a breakfast tray.

Feigning aloofness Jax did not reply, but her stomach rumbled, giving away her weakness. She could smell freshly brewed coffee and could detect a hint of some type of cooked meat. Her mouth watered involuntarily and her stomach growled again. The man smiled good naturedly, ‘Good, glad to see you have your appetite back. You are wasting away under those bed clothes.’

Jax did a double take. ‘What do you mean you’re glad I have my appetite back? There’s nothing wrong with my appetite!’

He pushed the cart ahead of him and came to the side of the bed, ‘Well that’s not the impression I got yesterday.’


‘Yesterday?’ Jax panicked, ‘How long have I been here?’

‘Oh miss, I couldn’t tell you exactly, but I have been here two weeks and you have not eaten a morsel in all that time.’ The man smiled again but Jax picked up a sinister edge to his comment.

Two weeks! The bed head pressed hard into her back and Jax realised she had pressed herself as far away from the stranger as she physically could. Her head felt cloudy and the room swam in her vision as she tried to focus.

The smell of coffee became overpowering, and a metallic taste filled her mouth. The silver platter on the service cart was one of those fancy ones you see in posh restaurants, with a domed silver cover. What she thought was breakfast turned out to be a long row of medicinal vials and a very large syringe. There were no mugs or coffee percolators in sight. Jax tried to form words, to ask what was under the silver lid but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He offered her a styrofoam cup of liquid, ‘Here, the humidity in these rooms can be terrible. You must be thirsty.’

Jax sniffed at the contents of the cup. Relieved to smell only water she emptied the cup in a desperate gulp.

‘Now, if you stay still miss, this won’t hurt a bit.’ Her waiter slash captor lifted the silver lid revealing her “breakfast”. Jax took one look at the severed head on the plate and fainted.

***


How To Play:


1. Check this page for the weekly challenge.

2. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!

3. NO editing.

4. On Friday, post it to your blog.

5. Come back to Write Anything and leave the link to your post using the Link generator.

6. Visit other’s posts and leave constructive comments.

7. Use Twitter (with our hashtag of #fictionfriday) or Facebook etc to tell your network about the stories posted up.

8. Come back again next week!

Thursday, 21 October 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #178 for Oct 22nd, 2010

Include this theme in your story… After a long night, a hunter sees something he/she cannot believe



[Fiction] Friday Challenge #178 for Oct 22nd, 2010

another addition for 'Jax@theInceptionofchaos'
*first draft
**jax excerpts may or may not appear in chronological order and may or may not make the final cut.

***

'And now the gun.' Gregor held out his hand expectantly.
Jax stared at him aghast, 'I'm not giving you my gun. You gave it to me, it was a gift. You can't take back, that's Indian giving!'
'Seriously?'Gregor was suitably disbelieving.
Jax enjoyed his puzzled expression, it made him look like a defenceless meer cat. If he would twitch his nose and scurry away Jax could get on with the job.
'Jax, hand it over. I'm not kidding.'
He tried to be threatening but it was hard to take him seriously now she had compared him to a meer cat.
'Jax!'
'No Gregor.' It was time to get serious, 'You are not getting my gun and you are not going to sabotage this mission. I don't care what you think; Frank believes this guy is the leader of the Opposition and I'm going to do my job.'

The neighbourhood waited in silence, she could hear every peep and squeak in the surrounding area as she walked away from his frustrated twitching face and tried not to laugh out loud. A meer cat, why did she not see it before?
As she expected he quietly came after her, although not as quiet as she might have hoped. 'Shh!'she held her fingers to her lips and gave him a fierce look. He shrugged. Clearly he decided to make the mission as hard as possible without completely giving them away-- and possibly getting them killed in the process. Why he didn't just wrestle the gun off her, tie her up and throw her over his shoulder and be done with it.

That might be a nice way to go actually, she paused to enjoy the thought as Gregor rounded the corner. Completely blind in the dark he crashed straight into her, killing the fantasy.They tumbled to the ground, landing in an awkward although equally pleasing fantasy kind of position.  Jax landed flat on her back and Gregor fell in a heap on top of her. She shivered at the thrill of his groin pressing into her as he quickly scrambled off. She really should remember that not everyone could see as well in the dark as she. Much to her delight Gregor was blushing furiously and abruptly turned his back-- not before she caught sight of a pleasantly large bulge in the front of his trousers.

'Why don't you wait here and give your self a minute?'she whispered cheekily before taking the chance to escape. Gregor spun around to grab her but she managed to slip through his clasp and melt away in the dark before he could try again.
'Jax,' he hissed, 'Jax!'

The sound of him crashing about made her giggled. By the sounds of it she would have no trouble on her approach, Gregor was the perfect decoy. He would come in handy lost out there, if the motion detectors were set off the dogs would go for him first and leave her free to finish the job.

A line of trees and a low wall blocked her path. Without hesitation she slipped through and over. She underestimated the wall and dropped into the senator's garden, twisting her ankle on the landing. Fuck, fuck fuckity fuck. Pain shot up her leg but she didn't have time to waste on being soft, her watch read 3am, perfect timing. Anyone inside the house would be at their weakest, drowsiest point and reflexes would be delayed. It was now or get into one hell of a messy tangle with a pissed off crooked politician. Looking around she noted the familiar landscape, Triton had done a brilliant job in his description, everything was exactly as he said. After a few seconds of careful observation she located all of the security devices.

The senator was in the house alone, his family conveniently away on vacation. She focused hard on the surrounding noises and tuned into the house, the only sounds coming from within were the whir of electrical appliances on standby and a gentle snoring coming from the second floor. Jax made her move.

'Jax!' Gregor appeared at her side and roughly took her arm.
'Shit!' Where did he come from? She had had about enough of these games, 'I have a job to do, once upon a time, so did you!'
Gregor took a deep breathe and exhaled long and hard. Jax had learnt that this was a sign he was at the end of his patience. A small thrill caused her to shiver, he was too damn sexy for her to be mad for long.

'Look...' she started to speak as a hand clamped over her mouth and she felt a gun in the small of her back. Gregor's eyes popped out of his head in shock, 'Mum wait.'
Mum?Jax  thought as she spun around to face her assailant. It was Jax's turn to stare in shock, Agnes looked completely different to last time they meet. Gone was the perfectly presented elegant blonde sleuth. In her place was a crazed eyed, wild haired one armed demon holding a gun that aimed directly at her temple. Jax swallowed hard, OK maybe Gregor did have her best interests at heart.

'We can't wait any longer for you to get over your schoolboy crush Greg.' Agnes said gruffly.'Now Jax, why don't we go for a little drive?'

'Mum?' Jax looked to Gregor for an explaination.

He shrugged meekly and followed behind without the hint of protest. Caught on this detail Jax barely registered the fact that she was being kidnapped and dragged away by a mad woman who had chopped her own arm off. Mum?

***
How To Play:
1. Check this page for the weekly challenge.

2. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!

3. NO editing.

4. On Friday, post it to your blog.

5. Come back to Write Anything and leave the link to your post using the Link generator.

6. Visit other’s posts and leave constructive comments.

7. Use Twitter (with our hashtag of #fictionfriday) or Facebook etc to tell your network about the stories posted up.

8. Come back again next week!

Monday, 27 September 2010

[Fiction] Friday Challenge #176 for Oct 8th, 2010

Prompt -The Main Character is a time traveler. He/She arrives at a destination but not all is as expected….

* I have written an open ending for the CYOA Time Warden series,  see my contribution below...

***


image sourced from ancientdigger.com

Selene landed awkwardly on top of Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s sarcophagus. She was not surprised that Bridie and May failed to appear. She could have guessed this would happen. She landed herself in a set up. Quickly she got to her feet and scouted the deserted tomb. Everything was just as she’d left it. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead as she reached into the Emperor’s robes to secure the Luna doll. The doll came out easily and Selene jumped over the river of mercury to the floor. Perspiration poured off her and pooled at her feet. She reached for the door but it burned red at her touch. She looked around; condensation dripped from the ceiling and streamed down the walls. In her haste she hadn’t noticed the normally darkened chamber glowed red with heat. She concentrated and tried slipping into a time crack. The vision blurred and she swayed on her feet: the heat made it impossible to focus. Time was running out and she panicked. Without warning the floor abruptly dropped out from beneath her and the world fragmented into a thousand different realities. Selene struggled to get a grip. The time continuum whirl pooled at an astronomical rate. A steep furious funnel swirled and sucked the Emperor’s tomb into non-existence. She tried to wrap her mind firmly around any one solid reality, but they slipped by too fast and she lost her touch. The funnel opening raced toward her and she could hear Cate’s laughter cut through the chaos as the vortex swallowed her. Imploding in an instant the lights timed out. Game over.

Selene kicked the machine hard, twice for effect.

Cate giggled, 'It's only a game.'

Selene turned to Cate. ‘Yeah just a game. You didn't say that when you lost!'

Cate pouted and Selene laughed, 'Come on, it’s time to go anyway.’

Cate clapped her hands, ‘Yay let’s get some ice-cream!’

‘Mum will be here soon.’

Cate's face fell, ‘But you promised...’

‘Ok, ok.’ Selene poked her kid sister in the ribs, ‘let’s get some ice-cream.’

***

How To Play:

1. Check this page for the weekly challenge.

2. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!

3. NO editing.

4. On Friday, post it to your blog.

5. Go back to Write Anything and leave the link to your post using the Link generator.

6. Visit other’s posts and leave constructive comments.

7. Use Twitter (with our hashtag of #fictionfriday) or Facebook etc to tell your network about the stories posted up.

8. Go back for more again next week