WIPpet Wednesday: Collision Course

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

Here’s another snippet from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge project. This is a Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip.

For those keeping track:

This is the twelfth installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is September 17, 2014.
  • 17 sentences. Easy-peasy!

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Closing the Gap. Trip’s feeling almost deliriously happy, and T’Pol – well, T’Pol can be rather surprising, not to mention, well, assertive.…to maybe put it mildly.

This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

Between breaths, T’Pol clamped her arms around me, and went up on her tiptoes, bringing her face to mine, lips parted and her hot sweet breath making wordless demands. I tried to pretend she hadn’t just shocked the hell out of me, and that my ribs didn’t feel like they were about to crack with the power of her embrace.

Easy,” I whispered into one of those gorgeous ears of hers, and, when she shuddered and gasped, easing up a little on the Vulcan bear-hug, I brushed my mouth tenderly against hers- damn, but her lips were soft and full and moist, and she tasted maybe better than she smelled. I wanted to kiss her long and deep, and never come up for air, even if she squeezed me to death.

But tenderness apparently wasn’t T’Pol’s cup of tea. She grunted and snaked one hand behind my head, her fingers tugging at my hair. My yelp got smothered by her tongue as it thrust into my mouth, claiming me. Her taste and scent filled me up, made me dizzy and lightheaded. Her other hand clawed its way down my back to my hip; she used it for leverage as she moved in an insistent primal dance that needed no translation. Damn – I felt like my jumpsuit was three sizes too small, all of a sudden; she was relentless, nails digging into my backside, keeping me right where she wanted me.

I’d heard the old cliche about getting lost in someone’s eyes a thousand times, maybe more. This was different – T’Pol’s deep hazel eyes were dilated, passion-glazed, and unblinking. They stared into mine as though there was nothing else in the universe. She was pulling me into her – and I wished she’d look at me this way forever.

Suddenly, her leg hooked behind mine. I struggled, trying to avoid falling, but she held onto me, going down on one knee, somehow supporting my weight, then pressing me back against the floor, her mouth never releasing mine, her hand still cradling the back of my head. A hell of a lot faster than I could react, she was straddling me, her breasts crushed against my chest, her eyes holding me captive, telling me that I was hers, all hers – and then, just when my hands found the firm supple curves of her rear as she ground mercilessly against me, she made a grab for the zipper at my throat.

 

Will Trip get to keep his modesty, or will he surrender to the force that is T’Pol, aroused? Is this the best use of a cell, ever? Is anyone ever coming by to spring them? Would they even want them to, at this point?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

 

WIPpet Wednesday: Closing the Gap

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

Here’s another snippet from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge project. This is a Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploring the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip.

For those keeping track:

This is the eleventh installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is September 10, 2014.
  • 24 sentences (10+14, for the day and the last two digits of the year). I’m adding the last two from last week’s snippet, for continuity.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Small Steps. Trip and T’Pol, imprisoned together, are closing the distance between them…

This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

From last week:

Now T’Pol took a step closer – a small step, true, and she looked like she could bolt back to the corner any second, but a step. “ Your behavior has been – honest.”

And now this week’s snippet:

Honest?” I took another step, as she raised her eyes to look directly into mine. I thought about how I’d treated her, yelled at her, acted like a spoiled brat who didn’t want to listen to reason. “I really have been a jackass. I’m sorry; you deserve better -”

Please don’t change, Trip.” Her eyes were wide, almost glowing, and this time she came two steps nearer, so that now we were standing, just beyond arm’s reach from one another, in the middle of the cell. “I have -difficulty – interpreting the emotional responses of most of the crew -and I’ve learned emotions are integral to human motivation. Yours are – abundantly clear.” Her scent wafted over me like a caress, even though her hands were clasped behind her the way they’d been when she turned her back on me in the Captain’s ready room.

Maybe I was putting my foot in it again, but there was something in the way she looked at me that said there was more going on here. I edged a bit closer; not exactly a step. “And what about your feelings, T’Pol?” Maybe she’d shut down, tell me she didn’t have any feelings. But after that kiss, there was no way I was gonna believe her.

I feel that I have greatly underestimated you, Trip, and that I have harbored a great many misconceptions about your people.” She paused, looked away, swallowed, and then her gaze caught at mine, pulling me in, and she took a large step, so that her body was almost touching mine. Damn. “As for our first – interaction – it is a memory I have treasured, since, and I will continue to do so.”

My cheeks ached from grinning at her, and I shuffled my feet closer, leaving the tiniest bit of space between us. I’d initiated the kiss; something told me I couldn’t press her too far now. “I’m happy to hear that. Real happy, as a matter of fact. Delirious, almost.”

 

What will T’Pol do next? Did Trip push things too far? Did everyone else just forget that these two exist? Will they spend the whole series in this cell?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

 

 

WIPpet Wednesday: Small Steps

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

I am now the mother of an adolescent! It seems like just yesterday I was staring at a giant baby boy who could hold up his head, and now, he’s just an inch or two shorter than me, and seeming, at once, very grown and still quite young. He amazes me.

And he’ll still hug me – even in public. <3

And he’s thirteen!

Enough of the sappy. On to the happy!

Today’s snippet comes from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge: Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, an exploration of the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip. I’ll be sharing the remainder of this story, and a Twitter fiction, before we give Trip and T’Pol some much-needed privacy.

Update: When I went back to edit this section of the story, something interesting happened. I didn’t like the original ending, which was abrupt, because of the length prompt. Well, it’s much better now – and the story is about 1,500 words longer than it was, too!

Since these two are getting a LOT of positive feedback from folks who enjoy them (almost) as much as I do, I’m guessing there won’t be too many complaints about that! =D

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Story a Day is just that- a story every day in May. To make the challenge more interesting, I used all of the prompts. The stories are sequential, with various tones, POVs, and voices.

For those keeping track:

This is installment 9 of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is September 3, 2014.
  • Yesterday, my son turned 13 – a milestone age! =D
  • Therefore 25 sentences, today, because 13+9+3=25.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, Intimate Contact. Trip and T’Pol make tentative advances…

This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

 

“And the Cap’n told me I was supposed to ‘extend you every courtesy’ -” I shrugged and gave her a little smile, hoping it would relax her; I could see her tension in the lines of her body. I hadn’t really thought about it – but I was an alien, to her. “Maybe we’ve both messed things up. But, since we’re the only ones who know about it, maybe we can just agree to forget about it.”

T’Pol’s brow creased, and she went very still again. Her eyes were intent on my face. “You wish us to forget both our first meeting, and your emotional response to my presence aboard Enterprise?”, she asked, in a voice so absolutely flat, I knew right away that my answer was going to affect whatever happened between us. I stuck my tongue in my cheek to keep myself from blurting out the first answer that came to me – assuming one even did. Think, man – she’s after something, here. What is it?

But how the hell was I supposed to guess? She was a Vulcan, after all – and it had only taken a few minutes of working with her to see that her brain used a very different operating system than mine -

Then again, she was a woman. She’d proven that, in the club, and in my arms. And maybe, beneath all the Vulcanness, that’s the part that waited to hear what I would say; needed to hear something she could hold onto. I didn’t have a lot of experience with girlfriends, but I’d had a sister most of my life. I thought of Lizzie, and what I’d want a guy to say to her, in this situation.

I took a step closer; she didn’ retreat, but I could almost feel her quivering again, and she was back to not-quite-meeting my eyes. “T’Pol – I could never forget meeting you, and, even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. That was maybe the best twelve minutes and sixteen seconds of my life, and, well, I’m a little embarrassed to tell you how many times I’ve stayed up too late thinking about -well, how it might have turned out. And, as for the way I’ve treated you -”

Now T’Pol took a step closer – a small step, true, and she looked like she could bolt back to the corner any second, but a step. “ Your behavior has been – honest.”

 

Just what does T’Pol mean by that? Will Trip get this right, or blow it? Will these two find a way to deal with the feelings between them? Will we ever learn why they were put in that cell?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, click the links below, or come back next week for the conclusion of this story!

Story A Day excerpt and commentary…

Full original version of the story…

These posts are the seeds of a project I’m expanding in 2015. Your input is valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

 

WIPpet Wednesday: When the Limb Breaks…

Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date. It is hosted by the lovely K.L. Schwengel, maven of bad boys, stock dogs, and flying monkeys!

It’s been an odd week for me, so far. Things got thrown a bit out of kilter during my time-traveling, and haven’t quite settled, yet. So I’m still more or less winging it, trying to deal with things and regain my equilibrium.

Kinda like today’s WIPpet. Equilibrium seems to be in short supply for our two canoodling characters, who we left in a rather intense lip-lock…

How about you? Are you feeling balanced, or a little swept away by life or romance or even chaos?

Today’s snippet comes from The IDIC Romance, my Story A Day May Challenge: Star Trek: Enterprise fan fiction, exploration of the interspecies relationship of T’Pol and Trip. I’ll be sharing the remainder of this story, and a Twitter fiction, before we give Trip and T’Pol some much-needed privacy.

Disclaimer: T’Pol, Trip, and all the rest of Star Trek are property of CBS/Paramount; no copyright infringement intended. I just want to play with them, and I’m careful!

Story a Day is just that- a story every day in May. To make the challenge more interesting for myself, I used all of the prompts offered throughout the month. The stories are sequential, with various tones, POVs, and voices.

For those keeping track:

This is the seventh installment of Story #4, “Tigress T’Pol” . The prompt was to write a story of exactly 2000 words. An additional guest prompt from Heidi Durrow invited us to explore passion in this story.

WIPpet Math:

  • Today is August 20, 2014.
  • 20 sentences, nice and simple.

This snippet follows immediately after last week’s WIPpet, The Happiest Human on Rigel 10. Trip and T’Pol, together in a cell, have succumbed to the temptation to explore their mutual attraction…but just how far will this go?

This is an add-on scene for the pilot episode: “Broken Bow Part 1”. Ive done my best to extrapolate without violating series canon.

T’Pol let go of my uniform, wriggled her hand free; her trembling index and middle fingers uncurling and drifting in the air just above my shoulder, then tracing the path down my arm to my hand. Her pupils were so dilated, her eyes seemed almost black, pulling me in, begging me wordlessly to touch my fingertips to hers. I fumbled my fingers into a matching position, and hers found them with the force of a diamagnetic pull ,sizzling from our joined fingertips, into my arm, through my whole body, like a tiny line of plasma fire. T’Pol shuddered, moaning her urgent breath into my mouth, and I could feel her; feel the same fire moving through her, through us both, together, pulling us closer, somehow, than our bodies could get -

Desire swallowed us whole, and we were sliding down the wall, bodies straining and frantic, when T’Pol pulled her mouth a little away, and whispered something in Vulcan.

Huh?”

Kroykah,” she panted, and her eyes were wild with something I didn’t understand any more than the Vulcan word. T’Pol swallowed, hard, and stared at me, as though she had to remember how to say it in English. “S-Stop,” she stuttered, even though her body was still getting all tangled up in mine.

Aww, hell…” I gritted my teeth and wished for a second that I wasn’t a gentleman as I let go of her, trying valiantly to convince my bloodflow to shift so I could actually think. T’Pol stiffened and took a half step backwards, watching me with impossibly wide, glittering eyes. “I’m sorry, Subcommander. I was way out of line. It won’t happen again.” What the hell had I been thinking, anyway, kissing T’Pol -our damned Vulcan “chaperone”? Usually, my problem with women was that I was too shy; with T’Pol, I didn’t seem to know when to stop.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” Her voice was soft and hesitant; her gaze darted up almost to my eyes, then jerked away, like she maybe was afraid to look at me, now. “It’s I who should apologize for my – atypical – lapse of control.”

What happened to break that limb trip was out on, and spook T’Pol? Will Trip be able to recover? Will she? And how long are they going to be locked in this cell, and do they really even care, anymore?

You guessed it – you can watch the episode, or come back next week for another WIPpet snippet!

Story A Day excerpt and commentary…

Full original version of the story…

These posts are the seeds of a project I’ll be expanding in 2015, so your input is always valuable. No need to feel shy; I’m a friendly sort, and will keep my phase pistol on stun… for the most part. ;)

SoCS: Terran Time in a Vulcan Life

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme.

Rules and this week’s prompt.

The idea is simple – post an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt.

This week’s prompt is to write a post that uses time as its theme.

I’m in a bit more of a hurry than I usually am. The kids and I are off on a time-traveling adventure a bit later in the day; I’ve got just a couple hours in which to catch a nap before we set out for the

Sterling Rennaisance Festival. It’s the last weekend of the season, so we are seizing the day, and I’m even going to get to see a friend I haven’t seen since my wedding day nearly 17 years ago!

Rather than deal with real life time-shocks, I’m playing with fan fiction, this week. Disclaimer: Yes, Paramount owns them, and I play with them, for love, not money. Enjoy!

We said nothing else to one another, until we reached the courtyard of Sarek’s home. My time sense was still unreliable; but a glance at the sky showed that Eridani 40 was nearly a sunlength above the horizon, and I could feel that my skin was beginning to tighten with the exposure to even this weak sunlight.

“I will prepare the morning meal, Sarek.” I stepped aside, as a guest, and allowed him to pass and open the gate. An eyebrow lifted slightly, but he did not look at me; I had not yet given him leave to do so, I realized.

“There is no need, my son. Your mother left the servitor fully programmed; you will find your preferences well represented, and I am capable of making my own selections.” There was an assumption in his words; one I knew I must address at once, before it became the nature of this interaction.

“It is traditional for an adult guest in another’s home to prepare the morning repast, Sarek. You honor me by allowing me to fulfill that tradition while I shelter in your home.”

The silence stretched out, to the persistent meter of Mother’s floor chronometer, which had also a Terran name, ‘grandmother clock’. When I was small, I had asked Mother to translate the name, and she had given an explanation that sprang to new life in my dreams, but offered little in the way of factual knowledge. However, the stories she had told me – Earth stories, stories of humans being human upon a human world – were all bound up somehow in the omnipresent ticking of the Terran clock, the gentle measured swaying of its pendulum behind etched glass. It was a human invention, and yet it soothed something within me that I knew was Vulcan, in some way that I could not define.

“This is your home, Spock.” I was surprised almost to the point of turning to look directly at him. There had been a strong shading of emotion in the words. I resisted it with the three deep breaths, with concentration on the tick-tocking (a sound-name Mother had given; far too imprecise to describe the layers and textures I heard in the mechanical workings). I did not hasten to answer – that was the human way, and Sarek was Vulcan. But I possessed human impulses that could not be erased, and so I must do something while I was not saying the words that seemed to burn within me, demanding freedom. I set my bag upon the bench beside the inner door, and propped my lyre against it.

“It is not, Sarek.” I attempted to keep each word neutral, but, once they had voice, they emerged in a challenge. I moved to the kitchen in the ensuing silence, and passed my hands under the sanitizing sonics before going out through the sunroom to see what was ready for harvest in the small but prolific kitchen garden.

I was gone as long as I could safely be, and remain protected by the cowl of my robe. I had no desire to return to the house, but, logically, I must, both for safety and to secure the needed permission to travel.

Sarek had settled himself in the sunroom, with a small stack of datapads. He said nothing as I entered; nor did I. Mother had never understood the long silences between us; were she here, she would certainly have attempted to engage us in conversation with one another, and, when that failed, as it must, she would fill the time with her own talk, much in the way that Doctor Phlox did. But I found no logic whatever in speaking when there was nothing I wished to say. Better to absorb myself in the cleaning of vegetables and herbs, the small preparations – Mother had indeed seen well to the matter of nourishment – and to the familiar, soothing lull of the grandmother clock, measuring time as though it was still on Terra, and not on Vulcan. Mother had said that it made her happy to know that she could still know what time it was at her mother’s home, just by looking at the clock.

I prepared the meal without speaking; Sarek did not look up from his reading. He set it aside when I brought the tray laden with leaf and root vegetables, kivasberries, kevlas toast with marmalade, and tea. Clearly, he expected me to sit and share the meal; but I felt the urgent passing of time, held in the sounds of Mother’s clock, calling me home, to Earth, a place I had never been. I breathed deeply, and came to the table again, bearing a pitcher of water and two clay drinking bowls that had been made on Earth, from earth. I placed them carefully to one side, and then I sat to eat, angled so that Father needed to turn to pin me with his regard. I sipped my tea as though I didn’t know he watched, and counted the measures of the clock.

Do you enjoy stream-of consciousness writing? Anyone can play, so long as they are willing to follow a few simple rules. See you next week, for another live-streaming look into the lovely chaos in my mind! =)

Join in or read more SoCS posts here!

SoCS: Betwixt Dangers

This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme.

Rules and this week’s prompt.

The idea is simple – post an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt.

This week’s prompt is to write a post that uses the words two/twin/double/bi or any other words that mean “two”. I worked them all in, in some form.

I read this prompt as I was rewriting a scene for my time-travel fantasy novel, Chameleon’s Dish, which is set in Shakespearean London. My young heroine, Tisira, is in a bit of a pickle– not only is she trapped in the Globe Theatre as it’s burning to the ground; she’s also recovering her identity after a traumatic brain injury. She’s regaining herself, but, so far, she hasn’t fully reintegrated, so she is something of a split personality -and each side has its own priorities…

She has just been discovered by her twin sister and her traveling companion, and they’ve managed to escape the collapsing building – only to be accosted by an old enemy, Verity Cooper, who is determined to see Tisira burned at the stake for witchcraft.

This passage was freewritten, and will undergo many more changes on the journey of revision. So, it’s a bit of a peek behind the curtain of my creative process… I hope you enjoy! =D

 

The Globe Theatre. Creative Commons License – Internet Archive Book Images, on Flickr Commons

“Verity!” Henry hissed, and the other two – Huntleader James and Kirana my twin, stared at us. Kira’s eyes were frightened, though we could nay make out scent, still, other than the char of the Globe’s burning, and our own singed hair and flesh, and the Huntleader’s blood, a tangy overnote.

“Friend of yours?” he asked, with a note of humor.

“Nay. She has set herself as our foe.”

“Do you two think you could help me up, and hold me, if I need you to?” The Huntleader whispered, and I could sense that he had set himself a Hunt.

“It would not be wise.”

“I didn’t ask that – ” Verity’s screeching cry punctured his sentence; we listened. She was coming closer, and, as we peered through billowing smoke, we thought mayhap we could see her, and the crowd parting aside as the Red Sea in Henry’s Bible book, giving her as clear a path as Moses had. “Do you really want to debate it, or will you let me at least try to help you?”

“We must, Nockatee – Tisira – both of you!” Henry’s whisper was urgent, and it drew us closer, closer to the moment of convergence. Would I be lost in it? Would Nockatee? We were one body, but two lives, two souls, now. How could either survive, if one must subsume the other?

But surely now was not the time for such musings – first, must we not survive to worry at the bone of the riddle?

We began to heave him up – the running about within, after a morn spent in the heavens, and a twoday in which we had nay slept, dragged at our bones, but we managed, with James doing what he was able and biting back a short sharp oath as the bones ground together, his leg twisting further.

“And what of me?” Kirana asked, watching us all. Timid my twin had ever been, save when Andrew was with her.

“You – be ready to run, Kirana. As fast as you can, and in Huntform if you can manage it without being seen.”

“Run, Huntleader?”

“Run, Kirana. Someone needs to make it back – and if this doesn’t go well for your sister and her husband, your father is going to need you with him. So be ready to run- for your life, and for his.”

Kirana looked at us. “Kelaan – “

But we knew. Our minds flowed as they always had – the doubled energies merging into one- mayhap this was a key; a part of the Hunting. Mayhap it was the way to join us. Could not Nockatee and Tisira blend, as Kirana and Tisira ever had? We would be twins, of a different nature….

Verity was almost upon us. “All right, kids,” said the Huntleader. “You both clearly like the theatre. I hope you’re ready for the roles of a lifetime- because it’s time to put on a show. Follow my lead.” He leaned upon us, one arm around Henry’s shoulder, the other around my waist. A long rosary chain hung in front of my body, the crucifix brushing my breast. I wondered where it had come from. “Ah, Goodwife. I am Brother James of Dunkirk, a Monk of the Holy Binary Order. I regret any confusion. The girl is – one of our supplicants for the Double Sisterhood; our order of nuns. Some time gone, she suffered an accident in yon nearby woodlands, and lost all memory of herself and this other girl – as you can see, her twin. We have been searching for her; this boy befriended and sustained her, in Heaven’s own mercy. We will have him for the Brotherhood.”

“He danced with her in the forest; and both clad only in their skins -“

Judge not, lest thee be judged thyself,” countered Huntleader James, firmly, but with kindness. “Be well, Goodwife, and many benedictions upon thee.” He whispered, “Now, nod your farewells – and help me get somewhere away from here. Too many eyes – and two of you aren’t going to be able to explain more than a few things about yourselves if anyone decides to believe her, instead of me.”

Each step held danger; I counted two tensquare, and thriceten and two besides, before we were in the nearest of the bowers.

Do you find stream-of consciousness writing intriguing? Anyone can play, so long as they are willing to follow a few simple rules. See you next week, for another live-streaming look into the lovely chaos in my mind! =)

Join in or read more SoCS posts here!

Stretching into Revisions: ROW80 Update, August 6, 2014

The writing challenge that knows you have a life.

We’re nearly a week into August, now, and I’m finding the new rhythm of revisions. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed my characters from Chameleon’s Dish.

Have you ever had that experience, when you return to a WIP you haven’t spent time with for a while?

I’m also getting a better sense of the shape of my revision effort. It’s part excavation, and part reconstruction. It’s not something I intend to rush through; my goal is less about doing this fast as it is about creating a second draft that is ready for more refined editing.

So, it will take as long as it does. If I need to change my goals to accommodate this project, I will.

In other news, something big is on the horizon. I’ll maybe have more to say about it on the next week.

I’m also percolating. Ideas and scenes are forming; essays and blogposts are formulating.

How about you? Do you have a favorite project right now?

A Tisira’s-eye view….

August Focal Areas:

  • Homeschool Administration

  • Chameleon’s Dish Revision

  • Social Media/Blog Design

2014 Blogging:

Build positive blogging habits – post regularly, build queues, answer comments, and share diversely.

Maintain regular posting schedule; queue one post for each regular feature. Target attained for posting; nothing queued as yet.

Develop a sharing strategy that feels natural; incorporating input from Kristen. On target for sharing; no input from Kristen as yet.

Continue interacting through comments; expand and diversify my willingness to comment. Target attained!

Inspiration for Chameleon’s Dish.

2014 Writing:

Complete rough drafts of To Be or Not to Be, The Stars Are Fire (overstrike), and Perchance to Dream.

Write at least 750 words on Perchance to Dream daily through August, or until the draft is completed. Target attained!

  • August 3: 759 words.

  • August 4: 871 words.

  • August 5: 778 words.

2014 Editing:

Complete first revision pass for Chameleon’s Dish.

Revise all plot points by September 1. On target.

  • Plot points: 1/10.

  • Completed scenes/WIP: 9/60

A taste of Nockatee’s world.

2014 Hometending:

Continue physical and virtual hometending plans – resetting rooms, cleaning files, and inhabiting my study.

Continue the family room reset. On target.

  • I did a little tidying and organizing in the family room.

Clean out email files. On target.

  • Two brief deletion efforts; junk folder emptied.

Continue reclaiming my study. On target.

  • The bookcase I am repurposing from the garage is in the house; some cleanup.

Develop new habits that support organization and productivity.

Experiment with Daily Writing Frames from Round 1. On target.

  • The frames themselves look a bit different, but fit my current goals well.

Develop Daily Hometending Frames. On target. Some intermittent progress, here.

2014 Lifetending:

Stretch and find new ways to blend the facets of my life with intention and awareness.

Make plans to meet with at least 1 person on my get-together list; get in touch with at least 2 more to express my wish to reconnect. Target exceeded!

Seek out playful new ways to move and challenge my body.

Plan a monthly family excursion that involves physical activity. On target.

  • Several ideas in play.

One workout at the Y each week. On target.

  • Hooray for feeling better! I had a delightfully strenuous workout.

Continue exploring fitness goals – more on this throughout the round. Target attained; specific goals follow.

Treadmill: 22 minute walking mile using “Rolling Hills” program. On target.

  • I walked .5 miles in just under 10 minutes. I didn’t have the stamina for the entire mile, but am within the time frame.

Recumbent bike: 8 miles in 30 minutes, using an interval program. On target.

  • I biked 6.4 miles in 30 minutes, creating my own resistance intervals.

Weights: At the Y; minimum 3 machines for arms, legs, and torso weekly. Target exceeded!

  • 3 each for legs and torso; 4 for arms.

Nutrition goals for July:

Consume minimum five veggie/fruit salads and/or fruit smoothies each week. On target.

  • 2/5: One of each.

ROW80 Sponsor duties:

Visit my “2”s every session. Target attained!

  • I’m back on track.

Conflict!

ROW, ROW, ROW… find more ROWing here! =)