Tag Archives: creative writing

Fixin’ to Write Fiction

I’ve been really wanting to write more fiction lately. This is a good thing! I enjoy essays and microblogging and poems, but fiction is where my heart really is.

Unfortunately, fiction is much harder for me to write than tweet-length nonsense or even long-form essays, and it’s particularly hard to fit around my self-imposed requirement of posting daily. When I’m immersed in something I’m passionate about, it gets really difficult for me to focus on anything else for more than a few minutes at a time.

If I had a good buffer, I might be able to work around that by, say, alternating between a week spent on fiction and a week spent rebuilding my buffer–but I don’t have a buffer.

Another option would be to relax the daily requirement. I wouldn’t want to drop it entirely, but maybe a rule like “write every day, post X times a week” could work. I had a weekly schedule when I first started this blog, and it worked well for a while.

I’m reluctant to do that, though. I’m very proud of the consistency I’ve managed to maintain so far. If I’m still writing every day it shouldn’t matter, but I worry that without the public accountability I get from posting, it will be harder for me to stick to that rule. For some reason, writing something and then making it public feels very different than just writing it. (Okay, I guess the reason’s not really that mysterious.)

Maybe I could post excerpts? Like, if I’ve written part of a story that isn’t finished, I could post a little of what I wrote as a kind of preview? That would be pretty embarrassing for me, but maybe that’s actually a good sign!

(Although there is one other major problem with that idea: a lot of the fiction I want to write is extremely NSFW!)

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Guest Post: “Zeus and Pacific”

This story was written by my daughter when she was learning about mythology at school. I’ve corrected the spelling and capitalization, but made no other changes. Enjoy!

Pacific was in a very powerful, indestructible space ship. Zeus did not like indestructible things, so Zeus made a storm, and the lightning STRUCK Pacific’s ship down. The ship traveled for miles and miles. When Pacific’s ship crashed into the ground, it made a big big BIG hole. Even though his ship was not too big, the hole was as BIG as the biggest ocean yet. Over time when it rained, it filled up the hole and became the Pacific Ocean, and that is how the Pacific Ocean came to be. The end.

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Fire

If you play with fire, sooner or later you’re going to get burned. The moral: stay away from fire.


When you light a fire, you can get burned. The moral: be careful with fire.


While cooking with fire, sometimes you get burned. The moral: some pain is unavoidable.


Some things burned by fire get cooked. The moral: not all destruction is bad.


Stop fire from spreading, feed it, it keeps you warm. Moral: some dangers can be tamed.


Pretty. Warm. Too much warmth is pain. Too much beauty spreads, kills. Learn: pleasant and safe are not the same.


…What is that?

Hot, bright, filled with color, dancing and alive, angry and lifeless, consuming and alluring and terrifying and pure. What is it?

Beautiful. What is it?

What is this?

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Wall

This post is the final entry in a series. Start from the beginning here.

██.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as the sunset, and her laugh was as light and sweet as an echo.  The girl lived in a bright and colorful garden with a boy, and the boy was tall and strong as mountains, and his voice was as smooth and bright and clear as running water.  The boy showed the girl the tree that grew in the center of his garden, and they laughed and played and made love in its shade, and he helped her pick fragrant blossoms to weave into her hair.  And when the night grew dark, the boy led her back into the garden, and drew his arm tight around her, and swore to keep her safe.  The girl fell asleep on a bed of flowers, and did not wake while the boy was away, and in the morning she followed him to the comfort of familiar things.  From time to time, she would think of that place in the center of the garden, where the tree’s branches grew broad and high, and remember.  But she contented herself, and never wondered, and never returned to climb those branches, and look out, over the garden’s walls.

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Wail

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

vii.

Once upon a time, there was a girl.  Her hair was red as a pale summer rose, and her smile was as soft as silence.  The girl lived alone at the center of a vast labyrinth.  Before her stood a boy, and the boy was tall and cold as stone, and he condemned her recklessness with a voice as smooth and dark and heavy as a thundercloud.  But the girl found courage, and stood straighter, and condemned him in turn, for his own safety was worth no less than hers.  Then the boy looked at her, and smiled a small, secret smile, and his voice was as still and bright and shining as a mirror-pond.  He confessed the dragon slain, and the danger gone, and he held out his hand to the girl and beckoned to show her.  And the girl looked at him, and smiled a small, sacred smile, and fell trusting into his arms.

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Weal

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vi.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl.  Her hair was red as a summer rose, and her smile was as soft as breath.  The girl lived in a walled labyrinth, lost and alone, searching for a secret.  As she searched, she grew closer to the wide and towering tree at the maze’s heart.  The tree, which from afar had seemed so lovely, grew forbidding and ominous.  The grass became stiff and sharp under her tender feet, the flowers thorny and wild.  They tore and scratched her skin, and for the first time she felt pain.  But the girl pressed on, for it seemed that with each passing step the flowers were brighter, and the air more sweet, and the birds’ songs more lusty than she had ever known.  And after countless steps, when the girl’s strides were swift and sure, and but a single wall remained between her and the tree, she discovered the boy.  The boy was tall and handsome as stone, and his smile faded like bright water tumbling into a black and bottomless pool.

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Will

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v.

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl.  Her hair was red as flame, and her smile was as soft and sweet as spring.  The girl lived with a boy in a walled garden, and the boy was tall and strong and still as stone, and his voice was as deep and cool as the ocean.  In the center of the garden grew a tall and beautiful tree, and the girl longed to sleep in its shade and weave its fragrant blossoms into her hair and climb its broad branches and look out, over the garden.  But the boy forbade her, for a fierce and terrible dragon guarded the tree.  The girl was afraid, but her curiosity was stronger, so one night while he was away she stole the boy’s key from its hiding place, and unlocked the gate where she was kept, and ran off in search of the tree and the fearsome dragon which guarded it.

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Whorl

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iv.

Once upon a time, there lived a young and beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as flame, and her laugh was as clear and sweet as spring.  The girl lived with a boy in a vast walled garden, and the boy was tall and strong as stone, and his voice was as smooth and cool as autumn rain.  In the center of the garden grew a tree, and the girl longed to sleep in its shade and weave its fragrant blossoms into her hair and climb its supple branches.  But the boy said that a dangerous and terrible dragon guarded the tree, so he showed the girl other wonders, and charmed her with words and with touch, and kept her away.

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Well

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iii.

Once upon a time, there lived a young and beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as fire, and her laugh was as clear and sweet as a spring breeze.  The girl lived with a boy in a peaceful and endless garden, and the boy was tall and strong as stone, and his voice was as smooth and soft and cool as autumn rain.  In the center of their garden grew a secret, and the girl longed to see it.  But the boy said it was dangerous, and led her instead to sparkling lakes and flowing streams, and the girl swam and played and laughed, and the secret was forgotten.

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Wile

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

ii.

Once upon a time, there lived a young and beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as fire, and her laugh was as clear and sweet as a summer breeze.  The girl lived with a boy in a peaceful and verdant garden, and the boy was tall and strong as stone, and his voice was as smooth and soft and cool as rain.  But the boy was lonely, for he kept a dangerous secret, and was afraid to share it.  So the boy put his secret in the center of their garden, and built thick walls around it, and never spoke of where it lay, though of the garden’s countless wonders that place was the most wondrous of all.

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