A Ghostly Moon

It's wasn't quite 5p.m., yesterday afternoon, when I got up from my desk to take a much-needed break. Before I head down the stairs, though, I always take a look out of the window to check on the birds and the sky. And this time of year the trees, especially.
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More than half of the trees, in this old growth tree neighborhood, have yet to let loose of their leaves. And I love the stark contrast between the autumnal colorings and the dark bared branches.
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The dappled greying sky held both puffy white and ominous dark storm clouds. But what caught me by surprise, was seeing the moon already well above the eastern horizon. It appeared more as an ethereal ghost--awakened mid-sleep--not quite knowing exactly what time it was.
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I shared the following post on Facebook.

A three quarter moon is risen and looks as a ghost amid the clouds in a
threatening Autumn sky.

Blessings

Surrender

As promised, my Mini Halloween Contest entry.

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I worked with this piece in a few of the 2008 Muse Online Writer's Conference workshops.

But, one of my organizational goals for the week following the conference was to submit a piece

to the above-mentioned contest. Though some of you will recognize it, I've reworked it just a bit.

And, as I'll more than likely submit Walks with the Moon, under the nom de plume of,

Willa Rawlings, I'm posting the following snippet under my own name.
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Surrender

an excerpt from Walks with the Moon

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The near full moon shone bright in the clear night sky. Juniper, sage, and sweet grass lilted upon the cool autumnal breeze as Sophie Lahey walked up the steps and onto front porch of the isolated mountain cabin. Just as her knuckles struck the cedar planking the door eased away, and a faint light echoed from deep inside.
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“Hello!” Sophie hesitated and then called, “Conall?”

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When a wave of melancholy drenched her senses, Sophie drew in and blew out a hard-drawn breath. She summoned her courage, pushed upon the door, and raised her voice, “Conall!”
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“Miss Lahey?”

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A quick sigh escaped her lips. Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Sophie closed her eyes and took a moment to collect her wits. Her heart raced as she craned her neck through the opening. An old Indian, bathed in the harsh lighting of the old miner’s lantern--held down past his waist--walked in silent footfalls through an unearthly dark.

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Soothed by his demeanor Sophie answered, “Yes.”

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“I am Calvin. I do not believe my grandson was expecting you.” He motioned with his free hand to welcome her inside.

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“No.” Sophie said as she crossed over the doorsill. “He wasn’t.”

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The flickering light glistened and danced in the elder’s compassionate eyes. But Sophie couldn’t rid or disconnect herself from the desolation that permeated the shadows of the room.

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“I, on the other hand, have waited a very long time for you.”

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Sophie stood agape; with not the first word in response.

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“His sorrow was never mine to heal. My love cannot reach far enough inside to touch the agony that chases him.”

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Sophie then sensed the presence of a spirit guide. Deer reiterated its lesson in healing, matching the old man's words when a guttural howl pierced the silence. The old man stood motionless, unaffected. When a chill rippled up her spine, Sophie knew-- it was Conall.

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She feared the question forming. Calvin said nothing. Deer offered nothing. Sophie breathed deep and shook her head; refusing to give it voice.

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“What haunts my grandson now haunts you.” Calvin closed the distance between him and his grandson’s salvation.

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Sophie stood inert, shaking her head. Unwilling to accept what she felt. And from whom it came.

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“You know these things are real.” Calvin said.

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Chains thrashed and the clang of steel resounded in the dark. With yet another howl, a vehement rage swept through Sophie’s entirety.

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“You think you came here by chance?”

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Sophie shook in the night air. Tears welled and spilled over her cold cheeks. Her heart surged in her chest, and she began to back away; one laborious footstep at a time.

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“Reach for his love. I know you have felt it.”

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Calvin lowered the lantern to the floor and rushed to grab her forearms. “Touch his soul, Sophie. Temper what you feel now with your love. It is greater than his rage.”

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Sophie fought to calm her breath and heart.

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“You know it is there. See beyond what you hear and feel and reach for the love he refuses to surrender to.”

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Copyright 2008, L.L. Abbott Soul Echoes & Quill of the Heart.All Rights Reserved

Which Way to Go

Writing Tip of the Day: Nov. 5, 2008

Every writing project competes in the marketplace.

It's important to know your competition.

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I had a good look at my competition the other day [those two Mini Halloween finalists], and it didn't take long to know it's just not were I want Walks with the Moon. Not that I begrudge having found the idea at TWRP. Not at all. And I've no intention of changing my storyline. I like the characters and the way it's progressing.

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But! I did a little research Tuesday and decided to switch my intended audience. It's more a matter of directing it toward Urban Fantasy, and knowing that's where it belongs; where I belong.

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Now! Might I change my mind later? That's an excellent possibility. I am female of the species, and we do hold to the prerogative of mind changing. It seems to be part of our DNA. For now, though-- Walks with the Moon, is goin' Urban.

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It's a Wrap!

What a week! Though the Muse Online Writers Conference is over and done with, I've kept busy with a few of the goals I established during organizational forums with Cheryl Malandrinos and Susanne Rose.

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One goal for this week was to enter TWRP's Mini Halloween Romance contest. My goal was to submit an excerpt of Walks with the Moon. A piece I titled: Undeclared Love. Earlier this week I reworked another scene to submit in its stead. Yesterday I submitted Surrender. The winner will be announced on October 31st. If I don't win, I'll post it here and give you a little taste of the storyline.

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Another goal between now and November first is to get everything organized for NaNoWriMo. To help with that I'm going to read through Devon Ellington's 30 Tips for 30 Days. [Look the link on the side bar~after Writing Tip of the Day] I've read through Part One ~ Preparation. I like the idea of a creativity alter, and have the perfect spot in the far corner of my studio. One tip served to remind me of the music and CDs that I need to get in order. It's not just notes and files. There's an atomsphere that needs to be set as well.

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I also need to get another update posted to my Quill of the Heart blog, i.e., How Would You Live. That's a goal I committed to accomplishing this week. But, I have several entries sitting either in the blogspot draft folder, or hibernating in a Word.doc file. Not doing a bit of good sitting in either place. I need to get them moving. That's a goal for next year; regular updates.

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Claudia Suzanne's Before Copyediting forum truly opened my eyes. I will never look at editing the same way again. Charting the structure of a piece, whether fiction or non-fiction, was new ground for me. Before I take on the next major editing session I need to switch over, completely, to left brain logic. Editing is not necessarily a right brain function. Her sessions gave new meaning to the old addage, 'put it away for a few days to a month and look at it with fresh eyes.'

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Devon Ellington's lessons in Dialogue were invaluable, and Lea Schzias Short Story forum -- well, though I got a considerable amount of work done on my Beginning, Middle, and Ending [for Walks with the Moon], let's just say I came away with only half a hook! Not her fault. I believe I struggle most with what not to relay. Needless to say--it's just one more writing goal for 2009. I was in and out of many more forums, all of which I will talk about at later dates. But-- I already registered for Muse 2009. Lots to do between now and then.

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Oh! Here's the banner I did for NaNoWriMo:

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That's it for now. More soon,

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