Showing posts with label lonely. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lonely. Show all posts

Sunday, 18 August 2013

WEEKEND WRITING WARRIORS - 8 SENTENCE SUNDAY


If you are interested in follow this link: WWW

It has been so long since I posted - after my rash of consistency - I'm right-embarrassed. ;) But, here we go -- back to the old routine:

I'm hardly back from my holiday and I'm already thinking about the end of summer and my new Y2 class: fourteen days and counting!

The highlight of my week - after getting home on Wednesday - was entering a story in the Undiscovered Voices Competition run by SCBWI BI. I have never entered before. *eep ;)



As I'm only a weekend writer of Romance, Darrah is still having trouble with Sark Hale Tarla; although, today, she is feeling a little lost.

In a time long past in our history, a Sarkisian ship is stranded on Earth. Assimilation is at an early stage but it has not proven to be an easy option for either people. Now, Hale has been assigned to Darrah and her arm of men. His role is to smooth over any diplomatic - or worse - problems that might arise in the Outlands, where the Sarkisians were allowed to settle, when they are sent to find the missing human heir to the Thorn Throne, Erishdren. Rogue Sarkisians are thought to have been behind the abduction.



Darrah woke as a chill breeze lifted the fine hairs at her nape. She sat up and forced her senses to absorb the scene around her as she confirmed the stillness, and the scentless air.
It took moments to control her breathing. She had to calm her racing heart, and build composure at the core, to ready herself to deal with the dizzying rush of information.

Not one who expected to see the same four walls around her when she woke, Darrah took time, as she checked close, near, and more distant, that there were no apparent dangers, to recall her whereabouts and her current assignment. The foliage on the trees moved only with the wind, and the shadows conformed to the expected shapes and sizes. The high-pitched calls and other sounds were exactly as she would expect in The Forest of Drer, all species of the Outlands: peckers, blackbirds, nutscurries, and fleetdeer. Only her glance had confirmed that the other tents were empty – hide walls raised – and her bow rested on a rock a long-arm’s reach away.

DONALD MAASS Write Tip #72

Is your setting historical, exotic or invented?  Add immediately one common thing we’ll recognize from our own reality.

DID YOU FIND SOMETHING EXCITING TO DO DURING JULY AND AUGUST? HAVE YOU POSTED THIS WEEKEND?