Bedtime Story: Shhh…


“Don’t turn your back on him.”

The words echoed in her mind as the nightmare faded away in the morning sun.

That’s it. If you want me to write the rest of the story, I need feedback on the introduction. Did it work? Are you curious? Think a publisher would keep reading it?

Actually, I don’t want to write the rest. Will you do it for me? Consider this your writing prompt. Finish the story and link it to this, so I can read it too.

Book: Chapter 2


Chapter 2

David didnt know, but there had been another pair of eyes watching him since he had stumbled out of the woods. Those eyes were wide eith terror as they watched his body convulse from the spider’s powerful venom.

Although she feared for David’s safety, she knew better than to move from her hiding spot.

“The spasms are slowing.

Is he dead?

Not if he’s who we think he is.

Touch him.

Ewww, i dont want to, you do it!

Get the girl, make her do it.

Girl! Girl child, get out here. GIRL!”

Sarah ran from the woodpile where she had been hiding.

As she went toward the boy, one of the women stuck her foot outand tripped Sarah.

“Stupid girl. Can’t you even walk right?

Touch the boy child. See if he’s alive.”

But i can’t, Sarah protested, it will hurt…

A firm slap silenced her. “Who told you to speak? Do it!”

Sarah slowly reached her hand toward the now still boy’s shoulder.

The moment her fingers made contact, she hastily withdrew them.

Thankfully it was enough. The boy softly moaned.

Sarah ran toward the woodpile. She wasn’t stopped. The women, satified the boy was still alive began to care for his wound and brought him a blanket.

One of the women approached Sarah.

“This boy, he’s special. You will be our eyes. Follow him. You must not lose sight of him, but you know what will happen if he sees you. Don’t screw this up.”

Sarah nodded, but she wanted to scream. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it would pound through her chest. How would she follow him wherever he went? What if he saw her? She couldnt let that happen. No one else would die because of her. She didnt know how the women would see through her eyes, but she hoped it wouldnt hurt.

David was moving a little now, although his arm twitched occasionally.

He was alive. Sarah would be watching to see how long he would stay that way.

Writing help please


If anyone out there in blog land has a suggestion for my writing predicament, I would greatly appreciate it.

The problem is that there are a few characters in my book who are somewhat insignificant to the movement of the plot, but they do serve a purpose, so are therefore necessary.

When I introduced them, I didn’t give them names, or identifying characteristics, other than stating basically that they are old.

In my mind, there are three old women, but the number doesn’t matter.

Ok, so the real dilemma is that another main character is about to be introduced. I want her to have a confrontation with the women, but I’m not sure how to convey the scene without detailing the old women.

UPDATE* I wrote this, then I played around with writing the part, so I’m just
going to post both. Let me know what you think.

So, I’m writing this book…


Okay, I’m going to stop blog writing this book, unless I change my mind…anyway, I’m putting what I have together here. Don’t feel obligated to read it, I’ve already posted basically the same thing in separate posts, but I’m trying to get a feel for the actual movement of the story, so I need it together.

If you do choose to read this post, please let me know if this sounds like a book. If I should pursue it, or send it to my mind’s mine field to quietly wait for the violent rediscovery of an unrealized dream.

“Run, David! Dont let them see you!” He would never forget the look in his mother’s eyes. Desperation and fear were etched on her face.

David gave her one last hug, and with tears in his eyes he did as he was told. “Run David” echoed in his mind as he raced out the back door, willing himself not to look back.

The woods did not seem as frightening as the image in his mind of what was coming to his house. To his mother. He couldn’t have saved her. She was dead either way.

As he entered the saplings near the edge of the forest, he heard sounds of glass breaking, followed by a blood curdling scream. Keep running, David told himself. After what seemed like hours, he came to a small river.

Though only 10 years old, David knew that the Outcasts wouldn’t venture into water. Even for him.

As he stepped into the cold water, he hoped that his mom wasn’t hurting, and that she was completely dead. If she had survived, it wouldn’t really be her who came after him. A shiver ran down his spine and he ran faster.

Deep in the woods three women were gathered around a dwindling fire.

It’s too late. The fire is dying.

Shhh, I think I hear something.

The women spoke with haggard voices that suited their aged faces. They listened carefully for any movement, the smallest sign that tonight would bring what they had long waited for.

Leaves rustled in the distance, followed by the sharp snap of a twig.

Hurry, he’s coming! Bring the oil!
They placed the pan with the oil on the fire and soon a strange earthy aroma melded with the warmth from the fire. The rustling in the woods was coming closer. Even the fire seemed to quiver with anticipation.

As David splashed through the creek bed after leaving his mother, he couldn’t help but cry.

Maybe he should have stayed and tried to help her fight them off, but she told him to run. He had to obey.

She had taught him to be strong, but she had also shown him there was great strength in knowing your weaknesses.

The creek was cold and he felt far enough along to step out and try to find shelter from the deepening darkness. As he clambered over the slippery rocks, his shin was gouged by a protruding twig.

Nothin like leaving a trail of blood when being chased by killers he thought to himself. Maybe they didn’t know about him. Maybe they wouldn’t try to find him. He has to get it cleaned up though, and he could see some smoke rising a little way away. The “Outcasts” don’t like fire, so that’s where he would go.

David drew closer and could smell that some sort of oil was being burned with the fire. It looked like three old women were the only ones by the fire. David was out of options as he stepped from the cover of the woods.

The women’s knowing eyes looked at last on the face they had seen only in their visions…the frightened, dirty face of the boy who stumbled out of the woods.

As David moved closer to the women and their small fire, he was suddenly, almost sickeningly reminded of his mother. Weird, he thought, but he didn’t allow himself to reminisce. His attention to the moment was the only thing that mattered.

The women were talking, seemingly to the fire, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

In unison they looked up at him.

You’re tired, and hungry. Say a few words, and we will give you some food before you head on. Even young travelers must rest, one of the women said.

“Umm, okay? I’m sorry, but I don’t know how…or what to say. They’re after me. They killed my mom. I’m hurt and… I need help, David stammered.

Shhh child. There is no set way. Some pray to God. Or to many gods. Some talk to the woods, or the moon, or even their own spirit. Our world is too full of evil to remain silent. One must speak. To anything, anyone with power to make a change.

David moved closer to the fire. “I don’t know what to say. My mom, she’s dead. She wanted me to run. I don’t know where to go. I’m, I’m scared. She just said “I’ll always love you Honey, I’ll be with you, in your heart. Run David, run and don’t stop”.

Although David didn’t notice, the women had been watching the oil in their pot since he had begun speaking. As they watched, beads of oil had risen in a line and moved toward the center of the pot. Strangely shaped crystals were forming along the sides of the pan.

David’s words were coming more freely now, but he still wasn’t exactly sure who or what he was talking to. “Please, help me. Help us. I don’t know what to do.”

David stopped talking. Something had touched his hand and sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his eyes and looked at his hand. On it was a spider, unlike any he’d seen before.

It was small and black, with a green line down its back. He was about to brush it away, when it bit the tender spot between his thumb and pointer finger.

The pain was immediate and aggressively started spreading through his body. David saw that the spider was still on his hand, still biting him, but he couldn’t move. His body was paralyzed as the spiders venom coursed through his veins.

The women at the fire intently watched the spider, but none of them moved to brush it off.

It didn’t matter long. David’s body, suddenly freed of paralysis, began convulsing and the spider fell off and disappeared into the woods.

Book


This is another page or so in the book that I’m blog writing.

David stopped talking. Something had touched his hand and sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his eyes and looked at his hand. On it was a spider, unlike any he’d seen before.

It was small and black, with a green line down its back. He was about to brush it away, when it bit the tender spot between his thumb and pointer finger.

The pain was immediate and aggressively started spreading through his body. David saw that the spider was still on his hand, still biting him, but he couldn’t move. His body was paralyzed as the spiders venom coursed through his veins.

The women at the fire intently watched the spider, but none of them moved to brush it off.

It didn’t matter long. David’s body, suddenly freed of paralysis, began convulsing and the spider fell off and disappeared into the woods.

Manifest


As David moved closer to the women and their small fire, he was suddenly, almost sickeningly reminded of his mother. Odd, he thought, but he didn’t allow himself to reminisce. His constant attention to the present moment was the only thing that mattered.

The women were chanting something, but he couldn’t make it out.

In unison they looked up at him.

You’re tired, and hungry. Say a few words, and we will give you some food before you head on. Even young travelers must rest, one of the women said.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how…or what to say. I don’t know if I believe. I don’t understand…”

Shhh child. There is no set way. Some pray to God. Or to many gods. Some talk to the woods, or the moon, or even their own spirit. Our world is too full of evil to remain silent. One must speak. To anything, anyone with power to make a change.

“I don’t know if anyone is out there who could somehow stop it, but our world is in trouble. The outcasts are moving again. They kill. They do much worse. They spread. They killed my mother. My friends. I know I’m just a kid, but I escaped. My mom said there are reasons for everything. So there must be a reason for me.

I don’t know how to stop it. How to fight them, but I will find a way. Let my heart have courage for the battles. Let my mind be sharp. Let my words become honey, sweet to even the most hardened ears and minds…”

Although David didn’t notice, the women had been watching the oil in their pot since he had begun speaking. As they watched, beads of oil had risen in a line and moved toward the center of the pot. When he said those words “let my words become honey” the oil had changed into honey. Strangely shaped honey crystals were forming along the sides of the pan.

“I must become more than I am now. Please, unlock my potential. Please show me who I’m meant to become. Please help these strangers who’ve helped me. if something can, it should.

This is Baker speaking. Enough for tonight. If anyone is actually reading these, you don’t have to. I’m writing a novel on WordPress and it seems like I’m only doing a couple of pages a week. Anyway, I’ll post these in the “book” category, and I’ll try to put book in the title if you want to skip, but its easier for me to write a bit at a time. Night.

David


As David splashed through the creek bed after leaving his mother, he couldn’t help but cry. He had loved her, and her death would have been horrible. Maybe he should have stayed and tried to help her fight them off, but she demanded he run. The fear in her voice had been so intense. He had to listen. He had to obey.

She had taught him to be strong, but she had also shown him there was great strength in recognizing his weaknesses. He would honor her with his life.

The creek was cold and he felt far enough along to step out and try to find shelter from the deepening darkness. As he clambered over the slippery rocks, his shin was gouged by a protruding twig.

Nothing like leaving a trail of blood when being chased by killers he thought to himself. Maybe they didn’t know about him. Maybe they wouldn’t try to find him. He has to get it cleaned up though, and he could see some smoke rising a little way away. The “Outcasts” don’t like fire, so it should be safe to venture toward it. Maybe they would have something to bandage his wound with as well.

David drew closer and could smell that some sort of oil was being burned with the fire. It looked like three old women were the only ones by the fire. David was out of options as he stepped from the cover of the woods.

The Arrival


This is part of a book I’m writing as we go. A blog book if you will. Yeah, I know that’s not how people are supposed to go about writing/publishing/promoting books, but I’ve never been a fan of rules.

My previous post was the forward to it.

It’s too late. The fire is dying.

Shhh, I think I hear something.

Huddled around the dwindling fire, the women spoke with haggard voices that suited their aged faces.

They listened carefully for any movement, the smallest sign that tonight would bring what they had long waited for.

Leaves rustled in the distance, followed by the sharp snap of a twig.

Hurry, he’s coming! Bring the oil!

They placed the pan with the oil on the fire and soon a strange earthy aroma melded with the warmth from the fire. The rustling in the woods was coming closer. Even the fire seemed to quiver with anticipation.

Remember, he doesn’t know. It is not for us to tell him.

Shhh, he’s here.

The women’s knowing eyes looked at last on the face they had seen only in their visions…the frightened, dirty face of the boy who stumbled out of the woods.