story – Page 7 – Aspiring

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 7: The Thief’s Mission

This is the seventh in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November. you can find out more about the challenge here. The Thief’s Mission, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 8th December 2012 Word count: 520 Theme: secret agent, suspense, thriller The story:

“Stay low, stay alive,” Martin said to Jack.

“Stay low, stay alive. Stay low, stay alive,” Jack repeated to himself like a mantra, he was afraid.

“Don’t be a baby on me Jack,” Martin warned, last thing he needed was for Jack to break down.

“I’m not a baby,” Jack said annoyed, his anger pushing past his fear briefly.

“Good, let’s go,” Martin pointed the way. He pushed the door open as much as he dared and slithered through looking around him as he went. Jack didn’t follow, so he reached back and pulled him by the arm, which Jack resisted.

“Hey,” Jack started to say, but was silenced by Martin putting his index finger to his lips.

“Target’s there,” he whispered pointing upwards over a counter. “You’ve got to be quiet, there might be guards.”

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 6: Twice Blessed, Twice Cursed

This is the sixth in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November. you can find out more about the challenge here.

Twice Blessed, Twice Cursed, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 7th December 2012

Word count: 1,000

Theme: fantasy, myth, Gary Sue, hunting, goddess, celtic

The story:

“No good will come of the runt, mark my words,” a wisened old woman said, holding an infant up to the light, “Look, he casts a red shadow, the mark of evil.”

“Put down my child, and begone foul witch!” a gruff bearded man said barging into the room.

The woman dropped to the floor, and grovelled as she shuffled out.

“You’re not to listen to those damnable witches,” the man warned the woman who lay silent on the bed. “Our son will be great, mark my words.” The woman lay still and quiet. She had made no sound since the last push to birth the child. The physicians assured the man, the king of Grata Land she was alive, but they knew not what she didn’t respond to anyone.

The man wrapped the infant in a blanket and left her with a look of regret as she simply stared into space. As he walked into the great hall, the infant wrapped up in the blanket, and not making a sound, there was a flurry of activity as people rushed to see the royal heir. His most loyal friend, and soldier stepped ahead to clear the way.

“Stand by, stand by,” he called.

The king mounted the steps to the throne and stood before it.

“Here ye all,” he called his voice deep and gruff, “This boy will one day be king, and while I may be a good king, he will be the greatest, all should rejoice and come to love Monague, prince of Grata Land!”

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 5: The House That Could Not Sell

This is the fifth in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November. you can find out more about the challenge here.

The House That Could Not Sell, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 6th December 2012

Word count: 542

Theme: Supernatural, ghosts, haunted house

The story:

“Okay, whatever you do, don’t scream,” a voice said to no one in particular, the house was empty. “When are they going to move in?” the ghost sighed.

Five years later, the living room was host to a disembodied voice again, “If anyone’s there, whatever you do, don’t scream,” it said wearily. “No one? Nothing? Well I’m coming out, this is stupid.”

From the centre of the room a ghostly figured emerged. He was a youngish man, dressed in an 80’s suit, with appropriate shoulder pads, and ghostly snake skin belt.

“Well this place has seen better days,” he said screwing up his face in disgust. “It was perfectly clean when I lived here.”

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 4: Zombies versus Mummies

This is the fourth in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November. you can find out more about the challenge here.

Zombies Versus Mummies by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 4th December 2012

Zombies Versus Mummies by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 5th December 2012

Word count: 999

Warning: mild danger, referenced gore

The story:

Seti strolled back and forwards before the museum doors, swearing in Ancient Egyptian.

“That won’t help,” Ramesses said joining his father by the doors.

“I no longer care,” Seti said. “My neck hurts, my heart hurts, and these bleached people don’t agree with me at all.”

“Well it was either them or we wander round blind, and dumb. Hark we would have been easy prey for these undead creatures that plague this city.”

“Better to die than let our royal selves be tainted,” Seti said suddenly standing tall.

“We cannot remain here forever, the dead walk the Earth this night, and you and I are reborn into this strange world. We must journey and find out what we can, and find a way to restore our lives to ourselves,” Ramesses said.

“Ah, my son the man,” Seti said wistfully.

“Old man,” Ramesses said, “I lived a good long time. I underwent the festival of Sed.”

“God king?” Seti asked, “Truly the youth surpasses his father. Okay then, God King, where do we go?”

“I know not, but we are Egyptians! And we are undead also, but not so weak and mindless as these pathetic minions. In rebirth we are granted great strength and powers, how else could we both have escaped those strange glass sarcophagi we were placed in?”

“I felt it,” Seti said solemnly, “I felt it.”

“Let us gather weapons, and let us be upon this world, and remind them what true Pharaohs could do,” Ramesses said grabbing a spear and a shield from a display stand.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 3: Conference Nookie

This is the third in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November. you can find out more about the challenge here.

Conference Nookie by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 4th December 2012

Word count: 1,000

Warning: Very mild sexual content

The story:

Claire surveyed the wreckage that was her life. It had been two weeks since Michael had left her, she had taken it hard. He was meant to be the mythical one, they had been engaged, but apparently the feeling turned out to be not mutual. He left her, though not it appeared for anyone else. At least she hadn’t bought the dress yet, she thought.

She didn’t know what she was meant to do now though, other than work. So she threw her self into her job. She was currently at a conference in Buffalo, New York, and tomorrow she would fly back to Europe ready for the follow up conference in Dortmund.

She packs up her things ready for the next day then headed downstairs to the wind down reception for the North American Trade Expo.

She stuck to the bar, ordering just soft drinks, the conference was coming to an end, but she still needed her wits about her. The reception was reasonably busy. As she sipped her lemonade she surveyed the crowd.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 2: Damnation in the Living World

This is the second in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November. you can find out more about the challenge here.

Damnation in the Living World, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 3rd December 2012

Word count: 1,000

Theme: fantasy, sex, devil’s pact

Warning: Some relatively mild sexual content, and gore beyond the read more

The story:

In an inn, a huddled figure wrapped in a hood, drinking from a mug.

A well dressed noble entered the inn and looked around, and walked over to the huddled figure.

“You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble,” the noble said, his voice was that of a snake’s hiss. “Might be, you can make up for your transgression, Raynard.”

The figure grunted, and suddenly found his mind flying backwards through his recent history, quite involuntarily.

Raynard Climes looked around blinking. He had been lying on the battle field amid a pile of soldiers, all dead or dying, his guts trying to escape from the gash across his belly, trying to hold them in, struggling to stay alive. Now he found himself stood up, on what he did not know, because it was just glowing red, all around. He was still holding his stomach though, he could see the blood still seeping.

“Ah, you poor dear,” a woman’s voice said.

Raynard turned behind him, looking for the voice, as he turned the red gave way to something more solid, a bedroom, the likes of which he had never seen before, a room fit for a noble. In the centre was an ornate four- poster bed, and equally ornate furniture.

Then his eyes focused on a lithe woman dressed in a gossamer gown that seemingly covered her modesty, yet offered tantalising views of the figure beneath.

“Won’t you sit?” she asked, nodding at a chair.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 1: The Orchard

This is the first in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing from 2nd December 2012 until the 1st December 2013. It’s intent is to keep me writing throughout the year, and not just in November.

The Orchard, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 2nd December 2012

Word count: 1,000

Theme: Supernatural, werewolves, survivalist

The story:

Tony sat in the orchard catching his breath, shivering in the cold night. He remembered back when he was here only a year ago, when he had fallen out of the tree and broke his leg.

For six months he had to use a crutch to get around. It had been a lovely sunny day then, with little else to care about in those halcyon days of summer holidays, and the camaraderie of casual acquaintance. When it happened, it proved painful and embarrassing, he climbed as he high as he dare, and then higher still on a dare. If he completed the dare, there was a promise of a kiss from Sarah Dalstein, a girl of particular beauty in this out of the way little village in Suffolk. However, falling and breaking his leg had dashed his hopes. Everyone was very concerned of course, and then the ambulance came and took him away. When he returned to the village, that his family spent every summer in, he found himself to be the butt of far too many jokes.

Now, here he was running for his life through the very same orchard, the wounds in his side weren’t nearly as painful as the broken leg, but it didn’t feel that much different. Only now it wasn’t only himself that had fallen, it was the whole village to a hoard of werewolves.

“Come on!” he shouted at himself hoarsely, trying to force himself up.

“Hawoooooo!” he heard in the distance.

They were on to him again, this time he didn’t need to shout at himself, their howls were enough to set him going. He staggered deeper into the orchards trying to keep himself hidden, yet instinctively knowing that these wolf creatures that were spreading across the whole of Britain would be like their name sakes, fast, deadly, and keen hunters.

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NaNoWriMo 2009 is a go!

NaNoWriMo has officially launched, and the race to 50,000 words (or 100,000 if you’re doubley stupid like me), begins – just 30 days to clear the novel, and claim the victory.

This is going to be an amazing month, hard, soul destroying at times, but the feeling when you make it over that 50,000 word barrier is immense.

Weeks of anticipation, preparation, and nerves have finally lead to the start of NaNoWriMo 2009.

It started at midnight, and so did I, or close enough (what I actually did was start the procastination early, by waiting an hour to start while I worked on a spreadsheet to track my writing… erm oops). Anyway, today I went to Café Latino in Leeds, met up with another writer doing NaNoWriMo, and we got to work properly on writing our novels.

I’d like to say I’m target, but I’m about four thousand words short as it stands, and annoyingly I’m currently averaging a very poor, and very slow four hundred and fifty three words an hour, I’m not really sure why, the ideas there. Hopefully when a few more characters turn up, and we get some good interaction (not just phone calls), the words will start to flow.

My ideal is to do ten thousand words a day at weekends, with an extra five thousand on a Friday night. Now I know this isn’t entirely sustainable, which is where week nights come in, they’re my bonus rounds where I can pick a few extra on the word counts, but I can also take some time to create and organise notes, drawings, and do plans to help me at the weekends. The weekend and Fridays plan brings me to my target of one hundred thousand words, across two stories – and thats where I need to focus my efforts.

I don’t really need to feel too bad about not hitting target today, this Sunday is an extra, above and beyond the plan, so any words today, just help take a bit of pressure off later on. However, aside from a few chores, and writing this entry I’ll be writing right up until bedtime. Sadly this year there won’t be any bus writing, my little netbook is still out of order (bang out of order as it were), and I’m confined to using my seventeen inch monster laptop which is just about portable, if I’m writing in a café, or some such, not really something I can sit on a bus with.

I am feeling really confident about this year though, I’ve got a good plan, and some great ideas. There’s a lot of pressure, but I write better with pressure, its how I made it last year, when I did 80% of my novel in just ten days, right at the end.

I’m going to try and fit in time to keep writing here, this is what my blog is for, writing, and discussing writing, and this is the month I’m going to be doing lots of it, so i’ll have plenty to discuss.

To all everyone doing NaNoWriMo out there, I wish you all the best of luck.

Block Breaking

Breaking down the block before going hell for leather at a ridiculous word count goal – even if it is reasonably within my abilities 😉

In the words of Shirley Manson (of Garbage), "My head explodes, and my body aches," why? Because I’m trying to overcome writers block, and it takes a lot out of me. Its akin to smashing my head against a brick wall for hours at a time.

Why would anyone put themselves through that? Is it worth being a writer if you are not very good at it, and in fact can not write a blessed thing? It is without a doubt a masochistic tendency of writers to try and write through writers block. However it is worth it.

What I’m trying to do at the moment is warm up to NaNoWriMo, I’m taking on the insane challenge of entering twice this year. Two targets of 50,000 words – which I’m definitely capable of achieving, but only if I write. Indeed daily its a requirement of about 4,000 words (with room for creative breaks).

So banging my head against a brick wall ia just warm up, next month I’ll be peddling a bike at twenty miles per hour into brick walls, and clinging on for dear life in the hopes I don’t get knocked off in the process.

I’m confident though, because despite the block, the ink is flowing. It might only be hundreds of words a day, but clearly that its any words per day after struggling with none is a great thing.

Bring on the impossible challenges. Speaking of which, throughout November, to help push myself I’m going to be giving myself little challenges, characters, and scenarios to include in the stories I write. There are already some over at NaNoWriMo.org: York & Leeds for my region. Will keep you posted on how that goes, and feel free to suggest challenges at me, the more the merrier.