Since we never post here anymore...

...I'm going to.

I finally finished by book. Now it just needs a title and a little bit of editing. Hooray!

Jaron won't be here tonight, but we're still going to have a meeting, same place, same time. Also, just because you don't write anything, that's not a reason to not come. Just enjoy the little party!

-Rachel

Rachel's Book

So I decided that what I'm going to do is post my book on GoogleDocs, and allow everyone in our writing group view it. Then if you have any questions or comments, you can email me. But first, I need everyone's emails in order to share my folder with you. I guess Jaron has those.

I guess I'm just a bit paranoid about idea thieves. I know it's unlikely that anyone would steal my book, per se, but that other writers would take my ideas and turn them into something I don't want. I'm okay with FanFics after it's published (if it ever became popular enough) but I'm not ready for the world to see my story yet, especially in rough form. When it's ready, I'll work to publish it so that I'm getting paid for my time instead of having ideas/names/plots/other ripped off for free.

Happy camping.

Story Reviews by Rachel

So, I know we didn't get to really talk about our writing last night with it being pushed back (and at Jaron's house...) so I thought I'd start a note saying what I thought about everyone's pieces from last night.

Amber -- your story is really interesting so far. I think I still get a little confused with whose voice we're hearing, and which character is which, probably because we've been overloaded with characters in a short amount of time, and there are still a few dialogue tags that need commas. Other than that critique, I think that you have some great imagery and you never bore me with details. What you choose to show (and you do show vs. tell quite well) reveals a lot. It was easy to picture someone unusually tall poking over everyone else.

Barbara -- even though what you brought was very short, it was also very clever. I loved how they were dealing with screaming fangirls while they were buying milk--cheap milk to boot. And imagining the girl as a twin to this guy just made me think that she was probably not spectacularly pretty, but lovable. The voice was very distinct.

Valerie -- your story is very cute, and even though I know that Bruka is evil, it still made me smile a little bit to read about her traveling through the dark forest like an evil queen does. The story moves fast, but that's good for a children's book. Keep bringing the story to the meetings, and I'll be sure to tell you if there's anything wrong. Right now, there isn't. I really like it, and I'm sure young audiences would, too.

Jaron -- I know you didn't bring anything to the writing group, but I know you've been doing major overhaul on your story, and I like what you've showed me idea-wise. I'm sorry that the people on the writing forum confused you. I really did like the original exchange between Chameleon and Zidaiku. It was packed with emotion, and it kinda sapped me. I felt drained reading something so awesome, not even kidding.

So there you go. *hint: return the favor*

Scene 1 - Mura

Rachel

I finished scene one of my book this past week. Only 17-ish scenes to go!
---
The air was rancid, tasting of dirt and ale. A thousand men had left their sweat and their coins in the palms of the bartend, so willing to give up their realities for the deeper abyss that awaited them. Octras, exhausted from his journey, sat on a stool near the door. He could feel the fresh scrapes across his right side and the blisters on his hand. His last pursuit had brought unexpected peril--walking back to the tavern had proven difficult in his condition. He needed rest and warm bath. He reluctantly turned in his seat to scan the room, searching for his current employer. Everything in the tavern seemed orange from the dim chandelier, but the man Octras was looking for was still easy to find.

Octras stood and stretched, feeling his sore legs shake from the effort. He steadied himself and ducked under the chandelier as he passed. His employer had a drunk smile as he reached for the small sack Octras had brought with him.

Octras pulled away from the man's reach and said, "You'll get yours when I get mine."

"Very well. I owe you," he replied, holding out a few black coins.

"This is hardly what I bargained for; I risked my life to get these shells for you. You'll have to dig deeper if you want them."

The man sighed, the smile vanishing from his face. "If I'd known it would cost me so much..."

"These shells are far more valuable than my services cost you."

A second handful of coins were given to Octras, and the transaction was made. The man stared into the bag for a moment before he sighed again. He motioned for Octras to sit across from him. Reluctantly, he obeyed.

"So where did you find them?" he asked.

"I had to chase your thief all the way to Crescent," Octras started, "and it was not an easy task. He had light steps and knew how to cover his tracks. Luckily enough, there were goblins headed north and when he got close, he panicked, leaving his trail exposed. He had a camp in a cliff about, um, an hour walk from Crescent. He was up there when I arrived."

The people sitting nearby had all turned to listen, and though he knew many of them would forget the story by morning, it felt good to have an audience. Octras looked around as they all started to ask whether a battle took place.

"I warned him that if he didn't return the stolen goods, he would be starting a fight he could not win. He didn't cooperate, so we fought," he said, mimicking a fist fight. "My back was to the entrance when he suddenly tackled me. We both tumbled over the edge of the cliff. I managed to get a handhold."

"And what of the thief?" the man asked.

Octras tasted the lie on his tongue as he told them, "He tumbled to his own death."

He rubbed his blisters with his thumb as he remembered what had really happened, but the drunk beasts roared at the victory and offered to buy Octras a drink. He refused their invitation, however, telling them that he was tired. Even if he hadn't been, he wouldn't have had any ale; it was a bitter potion that left him numb and depressed.

As Octras turned to leave, a girl half his height pulled on his arm. The barmaid stood on her toes as she said, "You can stay for a little while, can't you? We close in an hour, and you can walk me home."

He shook his head. "I should go, and so should you. A bar is no place for a young woman to be."

As he spun toward the doorway, someone else tried to come through it. They collided; the woman fell against the wall with a smack. She spoke to herself as she tried to recover from the blow. Octras offered his hand and apologized profusely as she struggled to stand on her own. Instead of accepting his help, however, she pushed his palm away and looked right past him.

"This was a stupid idea," she said, and backed out into the night.

Curious, Octras followed her. "Excuse me, miss... are you hurt? I didn't mean to hurt you."

She completely ignored him and sat against a tree. "I bet he wasn't even there," she whispered. Octras asked again if she was all right, though it was obvious that she was not. She looked as if she hadn't noticed him there before. "You--you should watch where you're going."

Something about her voice made Octras feel small. "Hey, I apologize. I just wanted to make certain you're not injured, but you seem distressed about something. Maybe I can help you."

"Perhaps. I doubt the likes of you would understand my problem." She looked at him like he was filthy, and it offended him until he remembered that he was. He suddenly wished he had cleaned up before going to the tavern.

"What is it you're looking for?" he asked.

She looked up, scrutinizing his face. Her eyes were glossy from tears, and though they were sad, he saw a kind of strength he did not recognize. She held his gaze for a moment, and Octras felt a buzzing sensation creep through his spine and into his head. He rubbed his neck as he repeated his question.

She hesitated. "I'm... looking for... a mercenary named Octras. I'd heard he was headed here."

He laughed when he heard his name. "You're looking for Octras? Whatever for?"

Her eyes opened wide as she realized who he was. "I needed a bodyguard to take me to Catarisk. I have important business there."

"Octras of Calvador, at your service," he held out his hand, "and you are?"

"Tsira Kyequa of the Freelands." Her hands remained in her lap.

"Well, Sierra--"

"No, it's Tsira. Please don't make me correct you again. It's annoying."

The seriousness of her expression made Octras want to laugh even more. He had never worked for a woman before, let alone travel as a bodyguard. The idea was preposterous, but when he looked again, her eyes silenced him. They were a deep jade, beautiful and deadly. Something in them pleaded for his help, and he could not deny them. The feeling frightened him, but he was even more afraid of what might happen if he refused.

"Well...milady, how much can you pay me?"

"I have sixty ketts with me, and I'll be able to pay you more later."

"Sixty?" It was a huge amount; it could probably pay for the entire trip twice over. Catarisk was only three weeks away. "More than sixty?"

"Is... that not enough?"

He laughed again. "It's plenty, I promise you. Hey, you're in luck. I was headed south soon anyway. Meet me at the Border Bridge at early rise in two days. I'll be waiting there for you."

"Deal," she said, staring at the ground.

He started walking when he heard her call his name, and he called back, "Yes?"

"I didn't say anything," she said. "I'll see you at the bridge."

He shrugged and kept walking. She was still sitting by the tree the last time he looked back.