This is the last installment for the Rule of 3, which I have enjoyed tremendously. I think I’ll be re-tackling this idea (short weekly folktale) starting next week and taking this version of the story of Prince Ivan from the beginning.
- Prince Ivan, the Gray Wolf, and the Firebird
- A Marvelous Box, a Quill, and a Sundial Made of Bones
- The Water of Death, the Air of Life, and Something Like a Mayor
In Which Three Stories Go Their Separate Ways (more…)
Oof. The deadline for this is tomorrow. I was able to get the other two challenges done in pretty good time, but between vacation and Occupy Writers and coming home, getting this one wrapped up was a close thing. The sphinx entry for Sommer Leigh‘s League of Monstrology is tomorrow; the final post for the Rule of Three is Wednesday, and I’ve got a copy writing gig that demands time this week, as does the rest of the writing. Suddenly I feel quite busy.
Here are Rachael’s parameters:
Here are the original rules at Damyanti’s place. VERY IMPORTANT! There are also links to all of the other writers taking part in this shared world of Renaissance. Hop over there (or to Stuart‘s, Lisa‘s, or J.C. Martin‘s) to see how the other folks are imagining this place.
Here is my part 1: Prince Ivan, the Grey Wolf, and the Firebird
The Water of Death, the Air of Life, and Something Like a Mayor (more…)
Second installment. Here’s a link to Damyanti’s blog (one of the hosts), and in the meantime, here is the relevant prompt I used this week:
One of the characters is revealed to be not who he or she seems to be.
Word count: 560.
Previous installment here.
A Marvelous Box, A Quill, a Sundial Made of Bone (more…)
Everything concrete you can know about the ouroboros – and I mean everything – is contained in the creature’s name, roughly translating as that which eats the tail. Anything else is just speculation. And inspiration.
The Rule of Three is a shared-world blogfest. Here’s the basic outline (follow the link for the details on the town itself):
The Rule of Three is a month-long fiction blogfest, where we’ve created a ‘world’, the town of Renaissance, and challenged you to create a story within it. The story will feature 3 characters of your creation, who will be showcased on your blog on 3 different Wednesdays, following the Rule of Three. The 4th Wednesday, we’ll have the culminating scene.
There are 69 participants in this one (as opposed to the nearly 300 (?) ) in Rachael Harrie’s Campaign Builder. But the word count is twice as high for the writing. At the link above, you can see the list of everyone who’s writing here and check out some of the other stories.
All of my folks look like they’re going to be outsiders to the town. The story takes place in the second decade of the 15th century.
Prince Ivan, the Grey Wolf, and the Firebird (more…)
This isn’t “due” until October 3rd, but I don’t like things hanging over me. Here is the challenge as described by Rachael:
Write a blog post in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should:
- include the word “imago” in the title
- include the following 4 random words: “miasma,” “lacuna,” “oscitate,” “synchronicity,”
If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional and included in the word count), make reference to a mirror in your post.
For those who want an even greater challenge (optional), make your post 200 words EXACTLY!
So – the story.
And Imago Was His Name-O
“Oscitate is to lacuna as what is to miasma?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
Scary long caterpillar eyebrows wiggled over horn-rimmed glasses at him. The eyebrows were not pleased. “It’s an analogy? You don’t pass the test, you don’t graduate.”
Dr. Eyebrows’ statement sounded more like a question that was really asking, “How did you make it this far?” or “What did I do to deserve this?”
“It’s just a study session.”
“Give me the correct word. Oscitate is to lacuna,” he pronounced, world weariness hanging on every syllable, “as what is to miasma.”
Kevin looked at his reflection, mirrored in the glasses. Eyebrows had never liked him. He thought Kevin was always cutting to smoke pot, which was his explanation for why Kevin always looked so dull in class, and he made no secret of his suspicions.
“They were on the worksheet,” Eyebrows emphasized. “You do know what oscitate means? Synchronicity?”
“Yeah, see, about that,” Kevin started, pushing all of the English teacher’s buttons, “no.”
Eyebrows’ face turned a pleasing shade of red – no, cinnabar. “Get out of my classroom.”
“You’re the boss.” He stopped at the door. “The answer is ‘fart.’”
There’s a competition, so you can vote for this story here if you like it – and if you follow the link back to Rachael’s, you’ll also see all of the other entrants. Check out some other stories before casting your ballot. (You can vote multiple times, but don’t. Not cool, bro.)