And they appeared,  fragile and glistening.  His wings rippled and grew to lift him to the sky. He wobbled and fluttered, little leaps, he leaned into the breeze.  Unsure for now, but a little smile and a sparkle in his eye spoke of a journey yet to come.


Yelling at the characters

Well I digress and somehow I have managed to go off into never never land of my imagination leaving my characters sitting on the side of the road waving “hey you why did you leave us here? We want you to tell our story and yet you are ditching us.”

I yell back to my characters, “Hey now some of the effort has to come from you and well there are two of you!”  I glare at the twins, “And you are not co-operating either! You keep twisting around and dodging the stuff that you don’t want to talk about! Yes I know it is hard but  I can’t really tell your story if you don’t talk to me or even tell me what is going on!”

I watched as the twins turned to each other, and then I barely caught their whispers, “She is going nuts and its not our fault that we don’t feel comfortable talking about stuff.”

I raised my eyebrows at them,  “You have problems then and so I give you ideas but you whine and shift around and say no. So  you can sit there for a while and contemplate life.  I am going for a walk.”  I stormed off leaving them alone on the road.

But some how I could still hear them in the back of my mind, it was almost like they hadn’t left, or I hadn’t stormed off.  But I was mad and I want to move on out of the swamp.  There was only so may ways that I can keep talking about the dampness and the humidity of that place.  I turned around and there they were trudging behind me.

“Hey!” I shouted as I looked around, “We are not in the swamps anymore!”

The twins stopped looked at each other  and then turned back to me standing  on the road that was pitted and cracked in places. obviously  it hadn’t been driven down in a very long time.  There was a small trail of grass growing in the center of the scarred tar.   The boy scuffed his feet on the road.  “Yeah maybe.”  He kept his head down the dark hair fell into his face covering his eyes.  He pushed it to the side but it didn’t stay there.

The little line grows

Well! The little line stretched his neck and he couldn’t quite believe himself.  Why he was starting to look quite handsome.  His eyes were blue and full of twinkles.   He tossed up his head and a small little grin appeared.


He licked the line of purple and then he wondered what was that? And where was it going ?  And then he pouted and shook his head.  It wasn’t going fast enough, how could he speed up?  His curious nature was over flowing.  What was next. where was he going?  



Ah yes the month long mayhem is about to begin! And yes I will be joining the campers as they frantically write the novel that is buried deep within them.   This is going to be my 4th attempt to continue on the adventure.  I managed to claw out a couple of wins and I did win a Nanowrimo.

My writing has been an endless novel of characters and story lines that still have not fully developed into a full blown story. There are bits and pieces on here and a few other websites and buried in my files on my computers.

With this particular story or bits and pieces of a story the last word count as of November 2015 it was 112098 or something close to that number.   And yes there will be a lot stuff that will get rewritten and simply placed on a rocket and launched out into space.   But in my defense without the original writing there wouldn’t be a story and launching material.

And yes Jake is one of my characters.  But like all of the drivel he still is resting somewhere in my brain waiting to emerge as something that eventually will be a flawed but fully developed character. Here is  Campnanowrimo  if you dare.   I am ironically Meryst on the site if you would like to join in the mayhem!!!

                         I DARE YOU!!!!!

Jake’s Beginning

Jake walked  further into the woods pushing aside the branches of the growth that reached out and  that hampered his forward movement.  He chuckled, and pulled down the cap that covered his ears.  He felt like he was a male little Red Riding Hood; and that he was going to be pounced on by a wolf who would rip out his throat with large fangs; “Better to eat you my dear!”   But that didn’t happen; it was a fairy tale; and he dropped his hand down to his back pocket to where his cell phone lived.



Jake pushed through the trees; he listened and he was the only one thrashing through the brambles. The leaves were still.  He looked back and squinted he could barely see the edge of the pasture.  It was almost as if he had stepped into another world.  He frowned and backed up a step, his sneaker crunched down on a a dead branch that echoed through the clearing with a snap.  It was silent and a bit dark.  Yes it was darker, there were shadows lengthening down the old growth.

rusted bike

How could that be?  He looked again and  5 feet in front of him was the rusted wheels of the bicycle that he and his brothers had joked about just about 6 months before.  Jake moved closer. Yes there was the horn that he sounded that had sent the yearlings running across the field.  They had been grounded for that incident because the yearlings had scrambled and one of them broken a leg in the panic.  But the bike was rusted now and the horn; it squeaked and a sad sound hissed out; an old worn  out copy of itself barely 6 months old.  And the trees were old, Jake looked around frowning and he shook his head he didn’t understand.