Furiously writing

My roommate Laura is a girl of many talents. She can play the violin, piano, guitar, compose music, leave dishes in the sink, underwater basket weaving.....and put up with my odd quirky humor. A talent indeed.

This is a picture of her writing a new and fabulous song. She hasn't shown me what it is about yet, but if it is anything like the Ode to Chocolate Brownies song we co-wrote then it is sure to a Top Charts masterpiece. Check out her blog on laurainreallife.blogspot.com

We are challenging each other to write a novel for young adult readers. Both of which are fantasy. They are clean fantasy, not trashy smut. If you are interested here is a sample of my story called Land of Light - When the Phoenix Burns (don't steal my title, I've alread lost one to Hollywood)

(Don't steal my ideas either!)

Every December in a quiet village on the coast along a far away horizon, a crisp summer wind loses its way and blows into the stillness of winter. Into this frosty harbor, the warm breath wraps around houses and fields with sweet memories of radiant sun and wild flowers. The villagers awaited this wandering nymph with agitation mixed with secret delight.
This wind whisks a new kind of mischief; playfully dancing in and out of their doors. Freshly swept floors are littered with summer leaves and petals. Disgruntled housewives shake their heads at the rumple laundry fallen amongst the hedgerows, after gallivanting with the wind. Children, fill with laughter and run through frost bitten fields on daring quests. No one can predict when the strange flurry would arrive or for how long it would spend its visit before moving along down the coastline to other far away places.

And thats just the prolong. Pretty cool huh! Ok maybe you would like a little more, but I don't know how to post a long link to the blog yet. My story is 36 pages right now. It gets more exciting in Chapter two.......

Anari dropped below the rim of the sink. Terror filled her to the core. She had to get away. Pounding drums and screams were filling the back of her mind. She overhead the inn door open and loud footsteps overshadow the dying conversations and laughter. He was inside.
The Black Rider menacingly walked into the tavern main room. A ghostly hush fell over the tables. The dark figure moved toward the nearest group of men. Chairs scooted as back as men scrambled to get out of the way. He grabbed one slower than the rest by the collar and hoisted him closer to the empty hooded face. The young man squirmed wildly as he stared into the hood. A piercing vapor surrounded his head and seeped into the corners of his eyes. The Rider threw the screaming man across the room where he landed with a thud in the corner. He jerked with a final struggle and then went limp. “He’s dead,” whispered an onlooker. No one moved. Fear emanated from every glance and panic from every movement. No dared to breath

OOOOOO......scary

It's ok....you can breath....in....out.....in... out. Good job. It may not be J.K. Rowling, but I think I have a pretty good story. Don't worry it won't be a horrible evil story, the good guy wins. Yeah for Good Guys!