Jango smiled, staring across the searing heat of the salt-water flats. It was a perfect day for his visit--he tapped the hammered metal cap on his head to make sure, and it stung immediately.
His best friend couldn't see the puny human any more than a human sees an ant in the distance, but he was antsy nonetheless, licking at the air and shifting his weight from side to side. When the sun burned as clear and hot as it did that day, the beast knew what was coming. He knew his friend wouldn't let him down.
Jango crossed the steamed clay, salt stinging his eyes, and took a seat about a hundred paces away from the behemoth. It must've picked up his smell through the dense saline air, because it perked up and, in its own way, smiled. "Patience, Andurïl. Don't get too jumpy, now."
How much Andurïl actually understood was unknown to him, but the beast calmed to a statuesque pose, like a mountain of reptile. Jango smiled again, and set his hat on the ground--he could feel its heat from an arms length away, and the fish sputtered and crackled when he dropped it. The smell was heavenly, but Andurïl didn't move a muscle.
After a few minutes of frying, the smell was too much to bear, and Jango dug into his meal. Blackened, yet juicy, courtesy of the burning sun--and still, Andurïl didn't dare so much as twitch.
And, like clockwork, a medium-sized Anwar--a predatory bird the size of twenty men--made its move on Jango. He'd seen it circling overhead for sometime.
So had Andurïl.
A tongue forty men long fired into the air, making a cracking boom as it snapped the bird's bones into pieces. The beast munched on it, feathers and all, with renewed energy.
Jango smiled, spittle and juice dribbling down his chin. They had shared a hundred victories together across the world, but none of them could compare to sharing a meal with your best friend on a hot summer day.
Comment if you enjoyed the story 👇
Incredible art by Thomas Chamberlain, https://www.artstation.com/tck
3,3594320 September, 2019
A thousand years ago, sailors told stories of a giant sea-snake so huge it could wrap itself around a galleon six times and have enough leftover to blot the sun with its head. For decades, centuries even, nobody believed them. It was the wicked seas playing tricks on their mind, or the scurvy driving them to hallucinate.
That sea snake is real, however, and it spends most of its days sunbathing on a few of the horns that line Terra's crown. It could pass as an earing, dangling from the great beast's head, shimmering in the sunlight. It spends most of its days sleeping.
If the sailors thought a sleepy sea-snake was the ocean's most terrible threat, it's a good thing they'd died long before Terra emerged from the Atlantic, like a continent rising from the depths. There are aboriginal villages on her back that she'll never know about, not for a lack of understanding, but because they're just so small.
We grow smaller and smaller with every passing moment, constantly humbled yet never truly grasping humility.
Humans have a bad habit of rejecting reality until its staring at them with a deep, black eye like an abyss, a little pocket of a starless night. Nobody believed the sailors, when they told just the tip of the iceberg's truth, and the sailors portrayed a lazy sea-snake as the Earth's greatest terror--these were both the acceptance of mistruths.
But truth is a fleeting, fickle thing, bobbing in an ocean storm, tossed and turned about. Who knows where the storm will carry it, or what it will look like? All we truly know is that, if we do reject it. . . it'll find us eventually, and when it does, we can only pray it has not been angered by its journey.
Comment if you enjoyed the story 👇
A hurricane westwind is coming our way. We were in the crosshairs of Lorena last week in baja. Arizona is forecasted to get up to six inches of rain this week. Here's a little painting I made a while back of the remnants of a storm bluster that threatened our dry desert redoubt. I still have my umbrella and galoshes from England. Bring it on!
What's up Scribblers?
My favorite season is officially here! When I think of autumn, I think of cozy, warm orange lights, crisp rainy weather (perfect for writing!), comfy socks and sweaters, piles of books and fun spooky movies to enjoy with a big cup of pumpkin spiced latte or just soothing tea 😍
May the transition of the seasons bring about a renewed sense of energy, motivation and inspiration to you! Let's tackle the next week with vigor, get to writing that scene, edit to your heart's content, perfect that query letter: you got this, loves! Keep it up and have a wonderful week!
What is your favorite thing about autumn? Does your wip have changing seasons?
Trying to honor my commitment to 15 mins of creative writing every day. Be warned some days this may be a sentence or a single word 😁. But I thought the power of social media might help with accountability. Any other artists trying to show up for your art today? 😁❤❤😁 #KeepGoing#CreativeWriting#Fiction#writersofinstagram
Our Young Writers Workshops, running through Oaklands Community starts tonight, September 23! Youth will have the opportunity to work with professionals over the next 6 weeks to create a piece of their own published work. Don’t worry, there’s still time to register! Visit StoryStudio.ca/programs to sign up now! 📝📚
#SonarNewsDigest >> #Retweet ⠀ #Publishing >> #Editors#PublishingAdvice [Forbes] 26 Tips from Editors on How to Get Published https://buff.ly/2l5qeWl⠀
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“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” - Anne of Green Gables
It’s almost here! #preptoberwritingchallenge
Preptober is all about preparing for #nanowrimo , and I can think of no better way to do so than to understand our characters better - from their obvious strengths to the deepest parts of their psyche. If you’d like to learn a tangible but organic way to explore your character and how they may react to your plot points, join us for #findingthegraypreptober !
Another stressful night. Managed to catch the last bus home and I noticed a young girl, probably 9 or 10 years old, waving and smiling at me from the other side of the street. I looked to see if she was waving at someone else but... I'm the only rider in this bus. Thinking she's in trouble I told the bus driver about her. Before the bus driver drove away, he said he sees no one. Even though she is in plain sight. I apologized and said I might be seeing things as I am really exhausted from work. #creativewriting#storywriting
I SAW A BUTTERFLY TODAY 🦋
*(READ BELOW) ⬇️ I saw a butterfly grace the sky, she surfed the winds with her delicate wings. She was beautiful amongst the vapor thin clouds. She floated in mid air with freedom of what the open space allowed.
I always wished to fly like her to enter the celestial sphere to glide the cusp of gentle winds.
Where the richest of gold could be found from a circle in the ethereal sky a Sun so rich it bursted with shimmers of light. Leaving my bare skin to glisten and feel the warmth of the sun rising.
With each thread of gold spewn out of the Sun these woven rays of golden strings connecting us to a ball of fire this undisputed Star fueling the butterfly with heat so she could fly and flutter her wings.
She stood out with vibrant colours amongst the palest of blue sky stained with orange and gold bleeding into the horizon
Her wings were a painting full intricate designs
She was art floating with her soft wings moving to find her garden and drink the sweet nectar from a flower
Drifting slowly riding the breeze she thrived and lived in the moment.
I would never see her again while she hovered over my head. A sudden gust of wind pushed her away in the distant she was at its mercy and she was gone.
This butterfly that caught my attention so delicate she could start a hurricane with one flap of her wings or teach us about the grace and power in something so fragile and yet so strong…
The world today and its demands, wants and ideals seem to be growing at a rapid pace. Everyone's needs becoming more and more blurred by the fogs of materialism and desires. The need for speed is real but so too is the need to get real. 📳
We are chasing likes, comments, followers, the latest gadgets, the best of the best in a particular category, and the best speeds for ever increasing reliance on the internet. That's just the tip of the iceberg 🏔️
All this seems like progression but the world is going backwards in many ways. What's the cost of all the above?— It's self-care. It's your sustenance for your mind and soul. Not just the physical. We neglected this for far too long.
We need a sanctuary. Needing sanctuary doesn't imply that we should isolate from people. On the contrary, to be emotionally healthy and make sound choices, we need connection to others. We need to feel love, so that we may feel both more calm and yet emboldened to be more honest or courageous. We need input, so that we may see options to which we are blind. And we need feedback, so that we can see our own thinking and behaviors more clearly. .
But what are we doing? We are escaping realities we don't want to face. We all need sanctuary, because we need peace, neutrality and the strength to face ourselves to change. There are many forms of sanctuary, yet few of us have it; we settle for escape instead.
Thank you for making me believe in love. Thank you for making me believe that I deserve love.
Thank you for showing me that I'm capable of love.
Thank you showering me with love.
If this is friendship, so be it.
But, this is the greatest thing that I've ever experienced. You are my human miracle.
Through sickness and health.
Through being broke and being even more broke.
Through success and failure.
Through heartbreaks and happiness.
You've been there and I can't begin to explain how much this means to me.
You came in to my life and deliberately lifted up my spirits.
You bring out the crazy side of me and I still can't explain how that feels.
Thank you for staying.
Thank you loving.
Most importantly, Thank you for just existing.
"Mama, when you go back down to a kid, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"Hmm... A writer!"
"But you're already a writer."
I'm already a writer.
It doesn't matter if you don't support yourself financially through writing. It doesn't matter if you don't have anything published. It doesn't matter if you're the only one who ever reads your art.
Writing isn't about money or fame or an arbitrary level of success. It's about words you have to get out, stories you have to share, characters you have to make come to life. It's about the process. It's work and pain and joy.
A fine giornata ringraziati.
Ce l'hai fatta anche oggi!
3131 minutes ago
At Gutenberg, students study the greats to learn how to become better writers. Learn how to become a better writer by studying the classics at linkin.bio #college#creativewriting#art
0042 minutes ago
“Well, I’m back.”
I’ve returned to my desk, editing and prepping for our Preptober challenge. But it’s hard to switch back from standing atop the rocky domes of Yosemite and trailing through its grassy meadows, to exploring Big Sur’s majestic rocky shores and sapphire expanse. Campfires and sleeping in the valley and on the coastal cliffs of Highway 1 were the perfect way to say “Farewell,” to summertime and embrace autumn.
But there are officially *7 days* before we begin Finding the Gray Preptober Character Development Challenge. Please feel free to reach out to me by DM or email regarding any questions you may have.
QOTD: Have you ever written a story inspired by a trip you’ve been on?