A WEIGHTLESS MOMENT OF CHANGE?

MAY IS HOSTED BY Hand in Hand, DONALD MAASS'  TWEETS ON CREATING THE PERFECT NOVEL ;)  and SECTIONS INSPIRED BY THESE:

Kirsten Imani Kasai

DONALD MAASS WRITE TIP #101

What’s a moment when everything could change? Pause. Explore. What does it feel like to be weightless? Add it

I stared dry-eyed at the spitting rain that threw itself at the window before clustering for comfort and sliding out of view.  I was less substantial than a raindrop. I didn't have it in me to cry. Besides, crying would  be pointless. I was a support network of one – more of a strand really. Hell, if I cried I’d even have to go and find the tissues for myself.

He came. He saw. He concubined.

I killed him.

I loved him, that hadn’t been pretend. I felt substantially changed. Even now, he was in me. Cellular. To the ends of fingertips, he was grafted into the keratin. Wrapped around my heart – like cling film – he'd nurtured like plastic wrap.

I gave him all that I could be. And, he made me weak.

Sickening.

My physical body knew what my mind refused to see. With him in my life, I made a passable blanket. Or, more accurately, a better rug.

I almost let the light in me go out – just to keep him. Now, he was gone. My cheeks heated at the thought of how far from goodly I'd slipped; so far from me. I banished him to where the Numbered ought to be. In that moment, in my room, despair became a tangible thing. Greater than any misery I had allowed myself to feel.

I could welcome despair. We’d be a good fit. Bleak. Blind. Unforgiving.

I shivered. And I shut my eyes.

Behind my eyelids, there was a glow.

The light? Or the will to live? Or hope?

It was the germ of a feeling. 
A  lonely tear began to run down my cheek.  I drew in a deep, desperate breath.  
Revelation. 
I was alive. It was possible to live without him. I could grow again.

HAVE YOU CREATED A MOMENT OF CHANGE WHERE ANYTHING WAS POSSIBLE?

IS YOUR MC SO SURE ABOUT SOMETHING IT JUST HAS TO BE WRONG?

MAY IS HOSTED BY Hand in Hand, DONALD MAASS'  TWEETS ON CREATING THE PERFECT NOVEL ;)  and SECTIONS INSPIRED BY THESE:

ROBERT V. S. REDICK

DONALD MAASS WRITE TIP #100

About what is your MC utterly right? Pull the rug. Prove her utterly wrong. Force her to rebuild.

The Wyrd Wielder gripped the door. In the neon lights, Elleree could see that the veins stood out as if the flow of his blood was damned there.

“This is your last chance to walk away,” he said desperately. “Elleree! If you go now…I know I could let you leave and not go looking for you later.” The words gritted out between his teeth when he begged. “Don’t leave it until it’s too late. I want to get this right.”

“Kayl, I know you aren’t bad. You're a good person. You told me to leave you. Don’t you see? You proved you have goodness inside.”

“Any one is capable of one good act – if it sneaks up on them and the let it slide because they have other things to occupy them. When you go I won’t feel good about it.”

“That’s because you’ll miss me.” Elleree reached out for him but he shrank back behind the protection of the door, and her fingers hardly disturbed the fabric of his robe.

He shuddered. “That’s one way to describe it.”

Elleree ignored Kayl’s frown. She tried again. “But…We love each other.

“That one I can’t deny. I recognise the way my body feels.”

“Let me stay. I’ve kept up the stupid boundaries you demanded I use for too long. I want to hold you and help you find the good in you. Every day, I want to tell you that you are good – that you deserve to be loved.”

“No. You need to go. You have to go,” he said as soon as she’d finished. “There’s only so much light in here and it’s fading…fast.

She stared around at the neons he'd installed on every surface of his room. She shook her head. “You weren’t born dark inside. No one is born that way,” Elleree said desperately. “If you think about it, it was the things that happened to you after you were born that messed you up. But you know what they did to you –it was awful – but you know… so we can work through it.”

“I can’t keep saying this much longer – Elleree, you have to go.”

“Please, no. You might have more temptation – more of an inclination to the bad – but, it’s the way you live your life that defines you.”

Kayl made a strangled noise. He was laughing and crying at the same time. “No. No”

“Poor, poor Kayl. Don’t be sad. Everyone knows what it’s like to want to do something bad.” Her voice tightened. “Sometimes they even do it… that doesn’t make them bad. I’m not perfect, you know.”

“Poor Kayl,” he said and his voice dripped with sarcasm. He smiled. “I know what I am. I accept my nature – I relish it.” There was no humour softening his face; his teeth and eyes were unnaturally bright and sharp.

Elleree stumbled, shivering hot then cold,  as she edged away from him. The opening was narrow, the corridor dark. Even safely on the other side of the door, her heart raced.

“So…You let your self-control go sometimes, Elleree?” The Wielder tilted his head towards  his shoulder, and narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “I would like to see that.”

She shook her head. From the soft light of the corridor, she could see him: cloaked in his power, he looked impervious -- far from human. “Oh, Kayl,” she whispered.

“As I see it, I am all that really matters. And I am so very good at being really and truly bad,” Kayl said with absolute clarity.

IS YOUR MC SO SURE ABOUT SOMETHING IT JUST HAS TO BE WRONG? 

AT YOUR MOST FEARLESS, WHAT WOULD YOU WRITE?

MAY IS HOSTED BY Hand in Hand, DONALD MAASS'  TWEETS ON CREATING THE PERFECT NOVEL ;)  and SECTIONS INSPIRED BY THESE:

SCOTT EAGLE

DONALD MAASS WRITE TIP #98

Imagine that a more fearless writer than you creates an event for your story. What is it? Use it.

With delicate movements of both hands, Leeah drew the binding circle and with little more than a thought she pulled it taut. A step in any direction sent her rebounding back, arcing up before falling into the centre again. As she learned the strength of the structure she’d woven, she reinforced its integrity. She judged her movements with care. The balance between carefree and reckless was essential if he was to be drawn into the sphere without activating his innate sense of self-preservation. On the other side of the room, Apol laughed out loud.

Leeah ran towards the wall. This time she was able to race a few steps higher before the power she’d incorporated threw her spiralling up and over. She wondered what else she could do to draw him in.

But he moved fast, blurred into invisibility. The force of his arrival knocked her backward, and they sank slowly together towards the chalky dust she’d sprinkled over the floor. The success of her plan rested on the fact that he would not realise the danger before she was ready. Some of his strength must be bound in earth if she was to rid the world of the parasite. To make sure he remained ignorant, Leeah gripped his shoulder and threw all her weight to one side. He grinned up at her. Let her move them so when they landed she straddled him.

Apol reached out and ran his finger through the energy-absorbing powdered rock. He turned his head to confirm what his body must have already told him. It was only then that, eyebrows drawn together, he looked at the gold blade that had already pierced through clothes and skin. Guided by his rib bones, it had cut through to the muscle that cradled his life force long after rhythm ceased to rock it. “Hey, friend.”

“We’re not friends,” said Claire as she leaned a little harder on the dagger. “How could we ever be anything as uncomplicated as friends?”

 “This is a bit permanent… for a break up. Think about this for a minute–”

“I have thought… who said love’s got anything to do with thinking – In my head, I always knew I shouldn’t love you. I hate what you make me feel. Do you think I liked knowing what you did for a living?”

“You make me sound like a banker.”

“You are soo much worse.”

Keeping still, Apol stared warily at the blade that was sinking into his body. “You’re not really going to kill me.”

“You aren’t really alive.”

“I’m hurting plenty for a dead man.”

“You really shouldn’t remind me about you and dead men.” Leeah leaned and pushed the blade a little deeper.

“What are you doing? You can’t do this!” Cracks showed beneath the surface of his skin. “Leeah, don’t you care?”

She closed her eyes unable to see the hurt she could hear painted thick in his voice. “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I do care.”

In her mind she pictured the thread the dagger point must become, she drew the thread to his heart and bound it. Fine, fine filaments of golden thread bound his heart. It would draw away the power it found there.

“But, I love you,” he gasped, faintly.

She couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “You loved tapping me for my life force”

“I enjoyed tapping you for a lot of reasons.”

“I hate this! I hate that I find killing you so hard.”

“And me,” said Apol as the thread began its final revolution. He was silent. Flakes drifted across her skin like a caress as they rose from him and drifted towards the whirling vortex that had opened inside the dome. “Could we get it over with… the suspense is killing me?”

Raising her head so she could see his eyes, Leeah gasped. “I thought you’d gone!”

 “Sorry for my long slow fade… only I was a quip short of my quota.” Apol whispered before he fragmented and so much stolen energy streamed away from him that it rebalanced the depleted life force circulating through the universe.

I THINK A MORE FEARLESS WRITER WOULD ALLOW THE MC TO KILL THE PERSON THEY HAD GROWN TO LOVE.

AT YOUR MOST FEARLESS, WHAT WOULD YOU WRITE?