Michael stared intently out the window at the tree across the street. Somewhere within its tangled branches, under leafy green cover, the squirrels were plotting their revenge. He'd installed a new bird feeder yesterday, one with a special weighted bar that would close if something too heavy tried to land on it. The finches and chickadees the birdseed was meant for had no trouble pecking at it, but the minute those pesky thieving squirrels tried their luck, the feeder slammed tight and locked them out. It worked perfectly, and that should have been the end of the problem. But he'd unwittingly crossed a line, and the squirrels were intent on making him pay for it. After the Pinecone Incident last spring, he refused to underestimate the little beasts.
Thompson was in a pickle. He had no inkling of how this had happened, or why, only the knowledge that it was a problem he could not solve on his own. Worse still, the scent of vinegar and dill nauseated him terribly. "Dear Bob," he prayed, "if you get me out of this jar, I will never go near a gherkin again." Suddenly, there was a flash of light. In the next instant, he was standing on the table beside the pickle jar, dripping juice onto the white linen tablecloth. "See that you don't," commanded a solemn voice.
The lights flickered in the hallway as Jenny shut the door to her apartment. There was a low, electric hum, an eerie stillness in the air, and then just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. She looked up at the incandescent bulb above her unit. The odd power surges had become more frequent of late. Jenny shrugged and turned toward the stairs. She'd only taken two steps before the door to her neighbor's flat slammed open. Trailing white smoky vapor, Michael stumbled into the hallway, practically bowling her over. She hastily moved to the side, but if the man saw her, he did not acknowledge it. His vision was focused squarely on the large elm across the road. "This means WAR, you fluff-assed tree rats!" he shouted, shaking a fist. The elm's branches rustled ominously. Jenny looked from the tree to her literally-smoking neighbor, and back. Her feet took those same two steps in reverse, her hands fumbling slightly as she unlocked her door and retreated inside. The post office could wait.
Sometimes I worry for Keph's sanity, then I think "Wait, what sanity?", and I don't feel so bad anymore.
"You don't have to do this, Greg." "You didn't give me a choice!" he snarled. "None of you did. You all sat on your asses and bickered like school children while this whole state ground to a halt around you. It's been four months and you still haven't done your goddamn jobs." He cocked the rifle menacingly. "This is your last chance. Do what you were elected to do, or I will force your resignation. Permanently." "Hear those sirens outside? When they catch up with you, they're going to lock you up for a very long time." Greg laughed. It was a deep throaty, thoroughly sinister sound. "The state signs the paychecks of every trooper out there. Paychecks they haven't gotten for months because you stubborn sons can't agree on what color ink to use on your stationery. How eager do you think they really are to put me away?" As another congressman began to object, he lifted the rifle and fired a round into the ceiling. The sound was deafening inside the meeting room. "Warning shot," he said coldly. "Next bullet leaves an empty seat. Get. To. Work." Pennsylvania has been without a state budget for 113 days and counting. My thoughts have taken a rather dark turn of late.
Above, the ceiling went pitch black, and the lights in the room faded until she could barely see anything except David’s face, lit by the tablet screen. “Okay,” he muttered, “let’s see if this works.” Zee looked up. Gold letters appeared in thick, stylized text. “Lucasfilm?” she read. “What is that?” David grinned. “You’ll see. C’mon, lie down here with me.” He flopped on his back, watching the ceiling. She was halfway to joining him when a fanfare of trumpets blasted the room. More letters had appeared, shrinking away as they scrolled towards the middle of the ceiling, until they were nearly impossible to read. “David?” “Shh, it’s a movie. Just lie back and watch,” he replied quietly. “This is awesome. I would kill for a setup like this in my apartment.” Confused, she tossed her overcoat on the bed and joined him on the floor. As she read the rapidly shrinking text, she realized it was some kind of story. It wasn’t until two spacecraft appeared, trading “laser blasts” that she realized this was his idea of entertainment. After spending the last hour with a pulse rifle in her hands, she knew lasers did not behave that way in reality. When a timid gold-plated robot entered the scene, she struggled to keep from laughing. Meksens would probably find him culturally offensive if they ever saw the film. They’d been watching nearly half an hour when she felt something move in the darkness. David’s arm eased under the back of her head, resting around her shoulders as he leaned closer. “There were a lot of things back on Earth I didn’t get much chance to show you,” he whispered. “This is a classic, for us. I think everyone on the planet has seen it at least once, even if they’re not a fan.” “Shh,” she answered with a smirk, “trying to watch.” At least one more thing made sense to her now. Despite being only semi-conscious and starved for air at the time, she recalled his muffled ranting outside her pod on the night he found her. “You do know I’m not a refugee space princess?” she whispered back. David gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That’s alright. I’m not a dashing farm boy who flies off to save you from an evil empire. Besides,” he winked, “they’re actually brother and sister.” Zee laughed, turning on her side to face him. “Well I’m definitely not your sister.” “Hah! Yeah, my parents would have so much explaining to do.” “Mine would too, if I had them,” she quipped. She meant it as a joke, but she felt David shift uncomfortably beside her. Something tense and awkward settled between them on the floor. “I’m sorry, Zee,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean anything like that. I think you came out perfect - to hell with what the ‘Grai say.” He looked away, returning his attention to the film above. Zee reached over his chest, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his gaze to hers. “It’s okay,” she said, giving him a thin smile. “I can’t miss something I’ve never known.” “Zee…” She heard his heart quicken again, but she was unprepared for what followed. His hand mirrored hers, cupping her cheek as he leaned closer. His lips pressed softly against her mouth. The Rah’li pulled away in surprise, her eyes wide as she looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” she asked cautiously. It had felt so strange, having his mouth on hers, but even stranger was how it made her feel inside. There was a fluttering sensation in her stomach she couldn’t explain. “I…” He looked equally surprised, but the shock fought with embarrassment on his face. His cheeks were a bright red now. “I don’t know. Shit, I’m sorry. I should go.” “Why?” She looked up. “Your movie isn’t done yet.” “I’m sorry,” he repeated, half to himself. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was stupid. Just… I need to leave. We can talk later, maybe.” Before she could object further, he had the door open. Light from the hallway outside spilled into her cabin, making her wince in the sudden brightness. Then he was gone. Kiss? she wondered. That’s what it was? Though he’d spoken everything else in Standard, that word was English, which meant it was something distinctly human. Zee retrieved her tablet from the floor where David had left it. The lights came back up and she reverted her ceiling and floor to their previous state. She knew she could probably ask Gray all about it, but this felt too personal. As much as she trusted the Korlissean, whatever had happened didn’t seem like something she wanted to share. She looked it up in the Akiendor’s data banks instead. Kiss - verbTo touch with the lips, as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting. She spent the rest of the evening alone in her cabin, looking up more words and their associated meanings. By the time Gray knocked on her door, informing her it was time for dinner, she’d finally begun to sort out the mess of emotions she now had names for. She had no trouble remembering the span of days since she’d woken from her stasis pod, nearly all of it spent in David’s company. But there were so many details she’d missed - small gestures, glances, and mannerisms that perhaps he wasn’t even aware of himself. It felt like someone had turned a spotlight on in her mind, revealing a whole new side to those memories she hadn’t known was there. She wanted to tell him she understood, now. That everything was alright, and he had nothing to be ashamed of. But all through dinner, he refused to even look at her. David barely spoke, answering Gray only with a nod or shake of his head, and only when directly addressed. He’d built an invisible wall around himself and retreated deep inside it. His usual good humor had been replaced with stony silence, and it unnerved her. This wasn’t the David she knew at all. Gray hardly seemed to notice. He spoke enough for all of them throughout the meal, excited to have the Akiendor’s drives filled and be on his way. He tried several times to describe what a Transplacement jump was like, but Kenba was already well-versed with them, David remained withdrawn, and Zee was too distracted to pay any attention. She wished she knew a way to snap him out of it. He was acting like he’d done something wrong, something terrible. It frustrated her. She could speak three separate languages and still couldn’t find the words to tell him the truth. The only thing he’d done wrong was stop.
So I thought it might be interesting to share this, and let you guys see the kind of hack-job reworking I often do on my book. In particular, the parts I struggle with. The above excerpt was the first draft, and worked more or less as I intended it. However, it didn't really mesh with the way either David or Zee would behave. So I tried a second version! ...The Rah’li pulled away in surprise, her eyes wide as she looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” she asked cautiously. It had felt so strange, having his mouth on hers, but even stranger was how it made her feel inside. There was a fluttering sensation in her stomach she couldn’t explain. “I…” He looked equally surprised, but the shock fought with embarrassment on his face. His cheeks were a bright red now. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I should go” He rose quickly to his feet, making for the door. “David, wait,” she demanded. Her tone was quiet, but firm. “Talk to me.” A kiss? That’s what it was? Though he’d spoken everything else in Standard, that word was English, which meant it was something distinctly human. He stopped, facing the door, but did not turn to look at her. “What do you want me to say, Zee? Kenba just finished telling me not to get attached, and here I am... losing my mind over you. I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid and I wasn’t thinking, and I’m sorry.” “To hell with Kenba,” she answered sharply. “Since when have you cared what he thought? This isn’t about him.” She retrieved her tablet from the floor where David had left it. The lights came back up and she reverted her ceiling and floor to their previous state. “He was right, for a change!” David shot back, finally turning around. There was a tightness in his expression she couldn’t read. “I don’t get to stay with you, Zee. I have days, weeks - maybe a few months, if I’m lucky - and then Gray’s boss will tell him to take me home. I’m already-” he choked as he tried to force the words out. “I’m already going to miss you. I don’t want it to hurt any more than it has to.” Zee looked up at him in confusion. His attempt at a “kiss” seemed to have changed something in him. There was an intensity in his emotions that made no sense to her. They hadn’t even made the first jump towards Astivelle, yet here he was considering when it would end? She dug back into the Akiendor’s planetary drives. Whatever a “kiss” was, it must’ve been awfully damn important to him. Kiss - verbTo touch with the lips, as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting. She met David’s gaze, at last beginning to understand him. She had no trouble remembering the span of days since she’d woken from her stasis pod, nearly all of it spent in David’s company. But there were so many details she’d missed - small gestures, glances, and mannerisms that perhaps he wasn’t even aware of himself. It felt like someone had turned a spotlight on in her mind, revealing a whole new side to those memories she hadn’t known was there. The Rah’li rose to her feet and walked two steps to where he stood, wrapping her arms tight around him and burying her face against his shoulder. “And what if I’m attached to you?” she pressed him. “You told me to make my own choices. What if I decide you should stay?” His hands fell on her shoulders as he eased gently away from her. “I don’t think it’s that simple. Whether you go to Astivelle with Gray, or wherever Kenba wants, I can’t follow. I won’t stop being your friend, but it was stupid of me to think I could be anything more than that. I’m sorry, Zee.” He turned for the door again, and this time she let him go. She’d been wrong about him after all - David wanted something from her as well. Something so profound and frightening he couldn’t admit it even to himself. He wanted her heart. He was acting like he’d done something wrong, something terrible. It frustrated her and she wished she knew a way to snap him out of it. She could speak three separate languages and still couldn’t find the words to tell him the truth. The only thing he’d done wrong was stop. Well that didn't work either. It makes a lot more sense for David to back out, now, and he's acting more in character this time (at several prior points in the book, it's established that he's growing somewhat fond of her, while also realizing he'll be forced to cut ties at some point). Zee on the other paw, has no real concept of romance or love. One Webster-definition of "kiss" isn't going to give her sudden gleaming insight into the complexity of human emotions and relationships. So that's garbage. Let's try a third version. ...“He was right, for a change!” David shot back, finally turning around. There was a tightness in his expression she couldn’t read. “I don’t get to stay with you, Zee. I have days, weeks - maybe a few months, if I’m lucky - and then Gray’s boss will tell him to take me home. I’m already-” he choked as he tried to force the words out. “I’m already going to miss you. I don’t want it to hurt any more than it has to. I won't stop being your friend, but it was stupid of me to think I could be anything more than that.” "I don't understand," she told him. "More than my friend? Are you saying you want to be my 'master' after all? After everything you said to me about making my own choices? Being no one's slave?" Her eyes narrowed. "I won't belong to anyone, David. Not even you." "That's not what I meant at all," he replied quickly, taking a step back. "Just the opposite, if anything." "You want me to be your master? David you're not making any sense!" He dropped his head, staring distantly at the cabin's rug. "No, to you I wouldn't, I guess," he muttered, half to himself. "You act so... human, sometimes, I almost forget you're an alien. But you only know what you've learned from tablets and books and flash-cards, and they don't teach this." The words stung her, made even worse by the lack of malice in his voice. She only heard sadness in his tone. "So tell me!" Zee demanded. "What are you talking about?" She felt sick inside. She was frustrated, confused, and hurt, and whatever he was saying carried a meaning she didn't quite grasp, but she knew it was important to him. What in the Core happened?! We were happy a minute ago! "I can't explain it, Zee. This isn't something you learn, it's something you feel. If Rah'li are even able to? I wouldn't know." Zee was stunned. In all the time she'd known him, he had never treated her like this. He'd known from the very start that they were from different worlds, but for the first time she felt like an alien to him. She blinked back tears - he was not going to see her cry. "At least tell me what a damn 'kiss' is," she said bitterly. "A mistake," he confessed, turning to leave. "One I promise not to repeat." The door slid shut behind him. The Rah'li resisted the urge to hurl the tablet after him. They hadn’t even made the first jump towards Astivelle, yet here he was considering when it would end? She dug back into the Akiendor’s planetary drives instead, putting the tablet to better use. Whatever a “kiss” was, it must’ve been awfully damn important to him. Kiss - verbTo touch with the lips, as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting. She spent the rest of the evening alone in her cabin, looking up more words and their associated meanings. By the time Gray knocked on her door, informing her it was time for dinner, she’d finally begun to sort out the mess of emotions she now had names for. She had no trouble remembering the span of days since she’d woken from her stasis pod, nearly all of it spent in David’s company. But there were so many details she’d missed - small gestures, glances, and mannerisms that perhaps he wasn’t even aware of himself. It felt like someone had turned a spotlight on in her mind, revealing a whole new side to those memories she hadn’t known was there. It didn't ease the heartache she was feeling, or resentment at the way he'd spoken to her, but now she at least understood what he'd been trying to say. David had alienated her in the truest and most literal sense of the word, and she wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. Once again, he'd done something stupid, and she knew it'd take him some time to figure that out. Humans really are slow learners, she mused wryly. "A mistake," he called it. She wished she knew a way to snap him out of it. He was acting like he’d done something wrong, something terrible, but his mistakes had all come after that. She could speak three separate languages and still couldn’t find the words to tell him the truth. The only thing he’d done wrong was stop. There we go. Not perfect, but all it needs is some tweaking for readability and word flow, not a wrecking-ball renovation. On to ch13...!
I can never find the words to reply to things like that. But I love it. I think it was quite interesting how you presented this! (I mean, with the different rewrites with your thoughts)
No one wants to hear that, trust me. It's a lot of noise and old, bad memories, interspersed with an occasional "That's enough. Shut up, brain." If only I could reach the back seat and give them all a good smack upside the head...
I'll put it here so you see. I completely agree that the 3rd draft works much better with their characters and shows a good amount of fire in Zee that wasn't extremely broadcasted before. I feel like she's finally getting to stand on her own 2 feet =)
"I am a wombat." Frank raised an eyebrow, throwing a glance at his friend that was equal parts concern and puzzlement. "Jimmy, you're not a wombat. "I am, though. It is my true nature!" Jimmy paced anxiously. "All this time, I was a wombat, and never knew it." "You're drunk again, aren't you?" "No, I'm drunk still, but it doesn't change anything! See? I even have the pouch!" "Christ, put that away!" Frank covered his eyes. "That is not a pouch! And you are not a wombat! Now go drink some coffee and sober up." He'd been living with Jimmy for six years now, and his roommate's antics had gotten old about five years and eleven months ago. Just one morning. Can we go just one morning without one of these episodes? Silently, he resolved to put a padlock on the liquor cabinet. Eventually. Jimmy slapped his large flat tail on the kitchen tiles. "I hate coffee. And you'd want to be a wombat too, if you were me." "Well I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you were born a platypus and you'll always be a platypus."
No one knew for sure where the Rocket came from. One day it was simply there, a gleaming silver Fifties-style space needle, perched on three stubby fins. There were no visible hatches or windows of any kind, no openings in its smooth metallic surface except the exhaust nozzle in its base. And perhaps most mysterious of all, the ground below it was still green and fresh, without a single trace of scorching or interstellar fire. For days, people crowded around the Rocket, cautiously poking and prodding and snooping. When the craft stayed silent and dead, they grew bolder, tapping and hammering and even attempting to cut into the metal to get at whatever workings might be inside. Their efforts were wasted. The Rocket stood silent and impassive, its hull unblemished and whole despite their drills and saws and torches. No diamond tip or fiery plasma could make so much as a scratch on the strange craft. Since it had "landed" in the park, out of the way of all but the weekend Frisbee-throwers, the townsfolk were content to leave it alone and forget about it. Certainly, the mystery remained, but it was neither an obstruction nor a danger, and so it became an idle curiosity instead. Gossip, rumors, and fanciful stories circulated through the town, and the surrounding counties, but there were no answers to be had. Three months passed. A small group of children were playing in the park, enjoying their last few days of freedom before school resumed once more. They dodged around and between the Rocket's fins, heedless of the black exhaust nozzle over their heads as they pursued one another in a game of tag. But as bottomless as a child's energy may seem, they did eventually grow tired and turn to the more passive activity of Hide & Seek. And that was when it happened. While the other children scurried off to hide among the bushes and trees of the park, seven-year-old Victoria had a different idea. She crept around one of the Rocket's fins, looked up at the tall gleaming object, and asked quietly, "Please, let me in?" And so it did. A doorway appeared in the base of the Rocket, a small oval of white light, and it extended a ramp down to where she stood. Hesitating for only a second, young Victoria walked up the ramp and disappeared inside it. "Five!" counted down the Seeker, whose name was Timothy. "Four...! Three...! Two...! One...! Ready or not, here I come!" And ready or not, there went Victoria, streaking skyward on a tongue of orange flame and white smoke. To this day, no one's been able to find her. She always was the best at Hide & Seek.
That was a very nice short. I really like it, and because it's short it's easy to share it with other people.
A little slice of my life... Dad: No, I don't want my checks to smell like tequila Sis: Why not? Dad: Because they're going to the Department of Transportation of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania for the registration of my vehicles. ---- (via text-message) Me: Happy Birthday, sis! Sis: Who is this? Me: Your brother. Who else would be calling you their sister? Sis: The good twin I left for dead in the swamp, do you see my concern? Sis: also thank you
I blame Marie for this... Kephras! Kephras! Kephras was a man I mean, he was a tiger man Or maybe he was just a tiger But he was still Kephras! Kephras! Kephras! Devouring the countryside, Devouring the peasants Devouring all the peoples And their thatched-roof cottages! Thatched-roof cottages! Kephras! Kephras! And the Kephras comes in the night . . .
Don't you dare blame that on Marie. You've been wanting to write an epic poem about yourself and needed an excuse.
