A Step of Faith: The Endless Cage

Well, time for a break from the never ending swell of homework.

The Title: The Endless Cage

This one started off from a picture of a young woman in front of a birdcage holding a bird.

It started off as fantasy and evolved. . .

Into a futuristic sci-fi/post-apocalyptic.

Go figure.

But it works beautifully!

And I'm really intrigued on how this will end up being about, because the main character has amnesia, and she's the only one we really meet for the longest time.

But there's another character, and he I barely know, and is super quiet.

Well, I guess I would have to learn more when it's written.

She doesn't remember anything.

Her name.

Where she is.

How long she's been here.

What happened before.

Nothing.

Yet somehow, her hands know the instruments she finds from time to time.

Somehow, she knows which animals to evade and which ones to face.

And most of all, somehow she knows that she should never open her mouth, not even to scream.

Everything has been fine for a while now, but today has been different.

Today, someone with a deep voice called to her when she was hiding.

Someone, who called her Adaya.

I'm pretty sure that this would be centered around a post-apocalyptic world where there are people trying to figure out how mankind would survive mentally while alone.

This would be in first person, as that would make the most sense.

I'm still not certain about who she is. . .

It's driving me nuts. . .

Bah.

I need to write this sometime.

I really do.

Thoughts? Advice? Ideas? Anything is welcome. :)

Keep on Writing!

God Bless,

SDG

Joy

A Step of Faith: Colors of Night

This time around: Colors of Night

I have this fascination with random things, and one of them is the aspect of color.
When I read The Giver by Lois Lowry, I was absolutely amazed that she took the idea of color and emotions going together, and how she applied that in her story.
How I didn't even catch it until-
Oh, hi bunny trail; I'll wave hi as you go by. . .
Sorry, back to my original train of thought before it derails.
Back up.
I basically took that fascination of color, added a couple of pictures I found online, and a dystopian/post-apocalyptic story emerged.
I haven't really done much with it, but here's what I have.



Iria was born into a world where color is used as a commodity, and is sold to the highest bidder.
Born with the gift of crafting colors into pictures, she was sold to a color house long ago.
Ciar was born into a world where color was taken away from the people, and only used as a form of torture.
He is a young guard in a high tech facility, who flinches at the sounds of the horror of color.
Until one night, Ciar dreams of a girl in beautiful color, and isn't afraid.
Separated, gifted, and now thought going insane, the two unlikely souls search for a way to cross realities before they are finished forever by those around them.

Okay, I had a bit of fun with writing that on the spot towards the end.
So what do you think?
Questions? Advice? Ideas? Anything is welcome. :)

Keep on Writing!

God Bless,
SDG
Joy

A Step of Faith

So life is busy.

Work doesn't help with feeling like creating.

And time is very precious.

So. . .

I'm taking a step of faith and, trying to at least, start posting about some of my actual story ideas.

And updating the different ones on whether or not I actually work more on them.

Not what I thought about doing originally for this summer, but I hope that it'll keep me going.

Thank you to everyone who still looks at my blog.

I do have some Pinspiration posts still scheduled, I like doing those ahead of time. :)

Keep on Writing!

God Bless,

SDG

Joy

When a Scene Comes Calling

You know when you write something, a drabble perhaps, and it doesn't fit anywhere?

Nothing that you are working on.

Nothing planned for the future.

Nothing that you had thought of before.

It just.

Grew.

Well. 

That happened, and I'm super curious about this one.

I'm also uncertain about a lot of it.

For example:

What genre is it?

Why is she hiding her identity from her friends?

Who is this queen character, and what is she up to?

How trusting are her friends?

Et cetera and so on and so forth. 

You curious yet?

Okay.

<>

<>

“I know you’re here. We can smell you.”

The female’s smooth, oily speech fills all my senses and I close my eyes and ears, biting my tongue to keep from retching. It’s still there.

“Will you take me to them? Will you promise that you will take me to them?” I finally gasp out. I can almost physically feel the female’s smile.

“Yes.”

With my eyes tightly shut and my hands over my ears, I stand up. Liquid iron tears my hands away from my ears and ties them behind my back.

“Smart girl.” The female murmurs, not that far from my ear. “Smarter than your comrades.”

“Diamonds.” Was all that I answer. I slowly sway my head from side to side. “Diamonds. Diamonds.” I repeat with a smirk.

They had me now. The Diamonds will try to take me. But me, I will not see.

The female’s watery laughter fills my being, followed by the sharp crackle of the males’ laughter. It cut off short soon after we started to walk. A hiss escapes the female and the liquid iron tightens. They know.

“Seer.” She hisses at me. A real smile tugs at my lips. Fire explodes in my senses and I crumple to the ground, only to be yanked up again by the liquid iron.

“Take her away.” The female hisses.

They drag me off. I still refuse to open my eyes. Every sense blurs together. My eyes are tired of being clenched together, but I will not open them. Sulfur fills my nose. Heat, pain, cold, fire. I feel everything. My mouth is parched and a bitter taste fills it. A great weariness fills me.

Yes. I know all about this from long ago.

Yes. I’ve come home once again.

I’m no longer the little girl I once was. Small. Afraid. Obedient. No. I’m home. And I’m not leaving it ever again.

A tight laugh escapes my chest, and my body becomes heavier. I know exactly where I am. I am back where I belong.

I’m in the queen’s chamber.

“Welcome home, little One.” A female’s voice, as light and flighty as silk evades my senses.

I nod stiffly.

“Oh little One. You know that closing your eyes is useless.” She laughs quietly. “You’ve already seen everything.”

I catch my breath as images invade my mind. Heights everywhere. Glittering lights evade almost every surface. A woman’s knowing smile. I clutch my eyes but they don’t leave. I drop to my knees and start to rock back and forth.

“There’s my little One.” The queen’s voice says with satisfaction. “Bring the first one in.”

I don’t hear anyone coming or going. Just the sound of Enoch’s voice entering my senses.

“Where are we going? What’s going on? Hera? Are you okay?”

He never shuts up.

“Ah. So you never told them your very name. Well, little One, I’ll tell him.” A rustling echoes throughout the room. “The woman that you call Hera is not-”

“Don’t. Please.” I beg through clenched teeth.

“Look at her.” I can literally feel the queen shake her head with my whole body.

“She is not Hera. Her name is Adhara Nova Dusana, and she is the noted Seer of our lands. You have perceived this, yes?”

Enoch does not make a sound, though I can physically feel his intense gaze. I crumple down even more, trying to become as small as I can on the floor, and please oh please, disappear.

“Go back to your, ‘friends’, and then we shall see what will happen next.”

I know that tone of voice all too well. She has used it when she does whatever is in her power to put me back in my place. My small, mindlessly obedient place in her world.

Not this time.

 With my eyes still fiercely closed, I force myself to stand up against every screaming memory.

“Enoch.” I say as clearly as I can. Ice explodes throughout my body, but I stand straight anyways, against the pain.

“Enoch, remember. D-” My body starts to crumble beneath me against everything that I try. “Diamonds.” I finally gasp out.

A chuckle explodes in my head as everything dims slowly to darkness and deepness and nothingness.

“Oh, my strong-willed One. I’m so glad you are back.”

<>

Intrigued?

I can go in either Sci Fi or Fantasy direction with this one, depending on the concepts I want to go with. 

What genre does it feel like to you?

Thanks!

Keep on Writing!

God Bless,

SDG

Joy

Brainstorming Saturdays: Life's So Short

This time I'm sharing a Short Story/Novella idea.

The Little Match Girl

I've never before been that big in tragedies, but over the last few months I've fallen in love with the Little Match Girl's story.

This little Novella that I'll hopefully write soon, will be a Historical Fiction with a little bit of Steam Punk vibe (1900's with steam ships, early cars and inventions galore).
I think it'll be set in somewhere like New York or Chicago; just somewhere big where it can get really cold.
It'll go through the Match Girl's afternoon, with her remembering yesteryear when she had her loving french grandmother.
Of course the ending is tragic, and I'm probably going to bawl my eyes out when I write it, but I can't wait to write it.

The MG (I don't have a name for her yet) will be about ten or eleven years old, living in an orphanage after she is found with her dead grandmother in a tenants apartment two years before.
No one knows them or where they came from, only  that her grandmother was proud and refused help of any kind.
MG herself cannot remember where she came from or any other relatives, so they send her to the local orphanage where Ma'am starts using her to bring more money in via selling matches on the street.
Over the years she has found odd friends on the street who are kind to her.

I'm afraid to tell you what I have for the ending, as I myself get teary at the thought of it. . .
But then again, what author doesn't get teary when they kill someone, especially a main character?
Well, some characters I can understand (AKA flat characters), but still. . .

*sigh*

Oh well.
Feel free to ask questions!
I will gladly answer them.

Keep Writing!
God Bless
SDG
Joy

Brainstorming Saturdays: The Artist in Me Likes to Come Out Sometimes. . .

And sometimes, I'm not sure if that's a good thing. 

Here's why: 

Painted Prisons. 

What if you made a picture so real that it came to life and forcefully switched places with you?

After thinking about that one day last year, I wrote two drabbles.
The MC, Marie, is a very talented artist who has been drawing realistic pictures with charcoal, ink, pencil, and other such mediums since the age of 9.
Unbeknownst to everyone around her, she's now trapped.
Her first 'perfect' picture came to life (villain named Jacqueline) and has taken on Marie's form, trapping Marie again and again whenever Marie finds a way out.
After years of a cycle of hunting for a way out and being trapped again, they make a truce.
Marie would draw pictures at night for Jacqueline, and Jacqueline would give her more freedom (plot weakness, I know, I need a better idea for that one though. . .).
Five years have passed, and Marie is going on her 19 birthday.
She's still a prisoner.

Left: Jacqueline inspiration Right: Marie inspiration
(I do not own the copyright to any of those, I just found them on Pinterest!)

She's just about given up all hope of ever being free when enters:
Duh duh dun!

Moseph Jameson, fellow 'realistic' artist who specializes in color and paint.
He has his own problems, namely a rainbow haired girl who is currently unnamed.
Moseph has found a way past his 'little' problem for a long time.
Now with both of their 'characters' ganging up against them. . .

Yeah.
I haven't done very much past that.

Feel free to ask questions!
In fact, I welcome questions with open arms.
Or you can tell me if I should continue with this idea or not. . .
You should get my drift.
:)

Keep on Writing!

God Bless,
SDG
Joy

Brainstorming Saturdays: I might as well

So, I thought I'd start sharing some of my ideas for stories, because I probably won't write all of them.

If you like a specific one, feel free to comment and I'll answer questions. :) 

As my latest Writing Wednesday was on Little Red Riding Hood, I thought I'd share my idea for that story.

Oh.

In case you didn't know, I have a dream of rewriting fairy tales. . . 

Maiden of the Wolves.

(So far YA, but lately I've been thinking of moving it to just Adult. . .)

I thought I knew the MC's name, (I think it started with an L) but I cannot find it now.
Anyways, I try to make a one liner for each of my story ideas, as that usually helps them push off.
Let's just say that MotW needs work. . . (AKA it's not in existence)

This SI came to me when I was on Pinterest one day (which used to be a lot last summer. . .) and someone was pinning a lot of fairy tale based pictures of people.
Then, I saw this picture:

 And this one:

That's when the title hit me.
Maiden of the Wolves.

So, who is this maiden?
Why do the wolves follow/possibly-protect her?

To be truthful, I still don't know all the answers to that question, but here is what I have.

L (as I'll use for her name right now) is the daughter of a king, whose whole royal family is somehow connected/guarded by the wolves.
When L's grandmother from her mother's side successfully poisons the king and pays one of the Royal Guards to turn away when she slips some of her own men in who massacre a lot of the people in the palace, L's mother slips away with the toddler L.
Hunted by her own mother's men, the queen leaves L with the one symbol of her true birth (her red cape and hood, red is the symbol of royalty) and some wolves standing guard over her; she runs off successfully distracting and moving the men away from L.

L is kept warm and rather well cared for by the wolf pack, until she is found by a wood cutter.
Seizing an opportunity, he takes her home to his wife where they raise her along with their other children, until she is about 8 or 9 years old, when the wolves come looking for her.
Afraid because of the royal curse (whoever kills a wolf. . . Well, something dreadful happens. . .), they put her out of their home.
The children are confused, and continue to be friendly with her, but the rest of the village considers her cursed.

That's what I know the most of.
What I also know, is that the son of the traitor guard is the one who knows that the princess L survived the massacre, and goes looking for her with the help of some rogue royal guards and a small elite group of warrior women.

Oh.
L is a red head.
It just fits with her spunky, no nonsense-ness.
I have no other words to describe her personality yet.
Yet.

So!
Questions, words of a kind sort, please comment below.

God Bless!
SDG
~Joy