Deeply disturbed by new story idea

So, jeans/t-shirts & sneakers (usually purchased from the Youth Boys section due to my tiny feet and the bounty of bright colours available) are kindof my uniform.

Sneakers. Casual, flat, loose laces so I can slip them on and off without fiddling, and usually at least 1 size too big (to make my feet look 'normal' sized for my height)

I am pretty low-maintencence with my clothing choices.

Which is why I'm deeply disturbed by a new story idea that woke me up this morning.

...as it revolves around... shoes. Like, all kinds of shoes including the kind my sister favours: skyscraper-high heels, lots of sparkly... things? buckles, straps, etc.

Yes, I am girl-enough to admit they look pretty, but the idea of strapping them to my feet is about as appealing as trying out a bedazzled iron maiden.

Sigh. Why is my brain trying to kill me?

But yet, here I have it. The first sentence to a story... not only that, it seems far-too-many-years of cramming my head full of world mythology and animistic cultures has prompted my brain to throw up...

...so please stand back before I vomit a new story full of Hindu gods/goddesses, western & eastern fairytales, even freakin' North American popular culture out all over you and your (probably prettier than my own) shoes.

...because it starts with:

"Dorothy had 'em, Hermes had 'em, even a damn cat had 'em, which proves I'm not biased in who I sell to."


Possible tagline: "Schizophrenic consignment store clerk sells magic shoes. What could go wrong?"


Haven't figured out a good store name yet, but I'm toying with the bi-line for her store being "Shoes for a path already travelled" since it IS a consignment store -> they are magic shoes that have already been used in the past.


...so, this holiday season I might be doing something I've never done before... browsing shoe stores.

/whimper/

...brain, please have mercy...

Query blog hop

I've been MIA for a few weeks... got back-alley-jumped by the sick-fairy who hammered me with a sure-KO-combo of flu, cold, and the feeling of razor-blades down my throat that required a horse-sized dosage of antibiotics to kill off.

BUT, I found this query hop today (my first real? day of being back online) and I love queries, writing them, reading them, etc, so I thought it'd be fun to join in and get some feedback.

And the extra cool thing about it, is it's fine for WIP's too.

Since I'm a pantsing-style writer, I honestly don't know how the story is going to end yet, so my query is currently a little vague, other than the character arc/decision hanging over Jay's head. That, I always know :)

So, here we go!

Already famous at seventeen, Jason (Jay) Walker is an artist obsessed with light, but unlike the Impressionist painter, Monet, Jay would rather capture the reflective ripple of scar tissue instead of a sunrise over water.

Bored with the overly groomed, emotionally-cold girls from his elite private school, Jay wants to paint Kell, or rather the scars she hides under long-sleeved hoodies and skinny jeans. Twice a week, Jay ditches his tedious Art class to meet her in the cemetery which separates his school from the public fine-arts school she attends. Through an odd game of trading scars, and a little blackmail, he convinces Kell to be his next model.

Jay only wanted to capture her torn surface, but after he starts working, he can’t help but want to paint it all, every layer down to the depths of her soul. But soon, Kell starts changing. With every session his work gets better, and she becomes colder, her eyes duller, and her wild emotions flatline. 

And he realizes, the same thing happened to all his past subjects.

Jay is sure to win another award for his new work, but this time is different. This time, he knows it’s happening, and this time, it’s Kell. He’s not sure if he’s willing to sacrifice her for another cash prize, press write-up, and the fat scholarship he’s been offered to a famous art school. 

What’s worse, he’s not sure if he can give up painting on the slim chance it might save her.

SCARLIGHT is an in-progress YA Magical Realism based off the old superstition that a photo can steal a piece of your soul.

Excellent video link - identity politics in fiction

You're right, Guilie, best 20 minutes of my day :)

Rainy Flash Fiction

Yup, west-coast November weather has settled in. Grey clouds and rain.

So, here's a new flash fiction prompt for this morning, for those who want to play along:

I waited until the magnolia blossoms fell.

Salty Flash Fiction

I know it's not Friday, but maybe you'd like to wake up slowly this Sunday morning over a Flash Fiction prompt?

Wander over to Skullduggery to play along:

Once there was a castle by the sea which beat the shore with furious waves.

...and yes, include it on your NaNo word count for the day, if you're joining in on the annual madness.