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Week 4 posts / La Capitaine Retourne - Final Draft
« on: August 09, 2021, 04:14:18 PM »
A little late, but it's here! I'm always surprised by how much my stories changes over the month. Every time I send it to a CP or editor I'm like: surely this will just be little grammar stuff to change. And then I get my notes back and they're always like have you considered this amazing new aspect to dig into? Well, this round of revisions was no exception. Last round of edits was all about adding some emotion and internalization, and this round was about detail and a ticking clock. I was very excited about Miranda's ticking clock idea to push the action forward. Ok, not at first because that sounds like a lot of work and I would like to stay at least close to the word limit. But after giving it an honest consideration, I realized that my story was looking for something to drive the action forward.
So here it is, the final draft of La Capitaine Retourne. Please enjoy. And if you want to read the first episode I wrote with Capitaine Margot Toulouse titled La Capitaine, you can read it here on the forum at https://writerinmotion.com/WIMForum/index.php?topic=146.0
"Who's captain here?"
Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding to the man in the navy wool coat, his bronze buttons gleaming in the late-afternoon sun.
After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet.
"Capitaine." Lisbeth, Margot's second, joined her at the pier while the crew disembarked. "I don't like this tide. Too shallow. I'd guess we have only an hour before we're banked for the night."
Margot gazed into the cerulean depths as a church chimed out the hour. "Remind them we're here to restock food, not just rum." She nodded to the crew stomping down the pier and disappearing into the bustling marketplace. "We shove off in the hour."
Lisbeth shrugged. "I'll do what I can."
"Excuse me."
The two women turned to the forgotten man in his impractical coat.
"You can't dock here."
Margot scanned from his neatly tied locks to his shinny boots and decided he'd never spent a day at sea in his life. "This is the ocean. There are no rules."
"Now see here, as harbor master of--"
Lisbeth gave a quick shove, and the man careened into the water below. "I'll see they stay in line." She marched after the crew.
"And remember, we shove off in the hour," Margot called after her. "No exceptions."
Lisbeth didn't turn back, but Margot knew she was heard.
Just as Lisbeth would disappear into the crowd, a hooded figured swiped Lisbeth's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but to get past Lisbeth was impressive. And Margot couldn't ignore a gut feeling.
She hurried after them, nearly losing the figure thrice in the crowded market, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. They couldn't have gotten far. The church bell chimed the half hour. She should make her way back to the ship and oversee her crew...
Margot ran down the alley, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the wind knocking from her, and cold metal sharp against her throat.
"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her face in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"
"No one. I'm here to--"
"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"
The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.
"To offer you a job." Margot reached for her sword. "I assume they're here for you?"
The woman lowered her blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"
"Go now." Margot turned her back to the woman, her sword raised. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"
The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.
The alley was too slim for a proper fight, but Margot would make due.
"Move, woman."
Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."
The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew as his sword clanged against the stone walls, slowing his thrusts. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.
A blood-chilling scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.
As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked them back to the ground, taking off to the market.
A growing crowd disrupted the normal foot-traffic, drawing Margot's attention. As she approached, a guard punched a familiar, cloaked figure in the gut. The figure fell out of sight. Panic churned through Margot's veins as she shoved her way to the front. By the time she broke through, the guards had pulled the figure back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."
"I've had enough as well," the woman ground out.
Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Wisps circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.
Margot decided then, she must have this woman.
Someone screamed followed by more shouting as fog filled the market, nearly stifling the distant church bell chiming the hour. Margot entered the fray at a steady clip, never losing sight of where the woman last stood.
"What's your name?"
A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.
"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."
Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."
A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Tres bien."
Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony and back to the harbor. They had a ship to catch.
At the end of the dock, a sour-faced man with a damp jacket stopped them. On each of his sides stood a member of the royal guard, and behind his shoulder, Margot's ship slowly coasted from the harbor, the mainsail not yet raised. "You have been charged with disruption of the peace, illegal harbor usage, and assaulting an officer of..."
Margot stopped listening, her mind already working on a plan. "Can you swim?" She whispered to Najwa.
"If the need arises."
"Tres bien."
"And so, by the authority invested in me..."
Margot approached the man, who scuttled back nervously.
"Seize them!" he demanded.
The guards closed in.
"Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's reach and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."
Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. After a hearty swim, they reached the rope Lisbeth lowered and were hoisted up.
Soaked yet satisfied with the day's work, Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."
So here it is, the final draft of La Capitaine Retourne. Please enjoy. And if you want to read the first episode I wrote with Capitaine Margot Toulouse titled La Capitaine, you can read it here on the forum at https://writerinmotion.com/WIMForum/index.php?topic=146.0
"Who's captain here?"
Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding to the man in the navy wool coat, his bronze buttons gleaming in the late-afternoon sun.
After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet.
"Capitaine." Lisbeth, Margot's second, joined her at the pier while the crew disembarked. "I don't like this tide. Too shallow. I'd guess we have only an hour before we're banked for the night."
Margot gazed into the cerulean depths as a church chimed out the hour. "Remind them we're here to restock food, not just rum." She nodded to the crew stomping down the pier and disappearing into the bustling marketplace. "We shove off in the hour."
Lisbeth shrugged. "I'll do what I can."
"Excuse me."
The two women turned to the forgotten man in his impractical coat.
"You can't dock here."
Margot scanned from his neatly tied locks to his shinny boots and decided he'd never spent a day at sea in his life. "This is the ocean. There are no rules."
"Now see here, as harbor master of--"
Lisbeth gave a quick shove, and the man careened into the water below. "I'll see they stay in line." She marched after the crew.
"And remember, we shove off in the hour," Margot called after her. "No exceptions."
Lisbeth didn't turn back, but Margot knew she was heard.
Just as Lisbeth would disappear into the crowd, a hooded figured swiped Lisbeth's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but to get past Lisbeth was impressive. And Margot couldn't ignore a gut feeling.
She hurried after them, nearly losing the figure thrice in the crowded market, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. They couldn't have gotten far. The church bell chimed the half hour. She should make her way back to the ship and oversee her crew...
Margot ran down the alley, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the wind knocking from her, and cold metal sharp against her throat.
"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her face in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"
"No one. I'm here to--"
"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"
The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.
"To offer you a job." Margot reached for her sword. "I assume they're here for you?"
The woman lowered her blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"
"Go now." Margot turned her back to the woman, her sword raised. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"
The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.
The alley was too slim for a proper fight, but Margot would make due.
"Move, woman."
Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."
The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew as his sword clanged against the stone walls, slowing his thrusts. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.
A blood-chilling scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.
As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked them back to the ground, taking off to the market.
A growing crowd disrupted the normal foot-traffic, drawing Margot's attention. As she approached, a guard punched a familiar, cloaked figure in the gut. The figure fell out of sight. Panic churned through Margot's veins as she shoved her way to the front. By the time she broke through, the guards had pulled the figure back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."
"I've had enough as well," the woman ground out.
Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Wisps circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.
Margot decided then, she must have this woman.
Someone screamed followed by more shouting as fog filled the market, nearly stifling the distant church bell chiming the hour. Margot entered the fray at a steady clip, never losing sight of where the woman last stood.
"What's your name?"
A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.
"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."
Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."
A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Tres bien."
Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony and back to the harbor. They had a ship to catch.
At the end of the dock, a sour-faced man with a damp jacket stopped them. On each of his sides stood a member of the royal guard, and behind his shoulder, Margot's ship slowly coasted from the harbor, the mainsail not yet raised. "You have been charged with disruption of the peace, illegal harbor usage, and assaulting an officer of..."
Margot stopped listening, her mind already working on a plan. "Can you swim?" She whispered to Najwa.
"If the need arises."
"Tres bien."
"And so, by the authority invested in me..."
Margot approached the man, who scuttled back nervously.
"Seize them!" he demanded.
The guards closed in.
"Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's reach and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."
Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. After a hearty swim, they reached the rope Lisbeth lowered and were hoisted up.
Soaked yet satisfied with the day's work, Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."
2
Week 3 posts / La Capitaine Retourne - CP edits
« on: August 01, 2021, 03:43:37 AM »
I was very excited to get feedback on my story this week. I knew it needed more internalization and could probably use some clarity, but where? And how could I possibly fit all of it? Well, if I ever doubted the help of CPs, this week should correct that idea, because the feedback I received was so helpful and I can already see this story growing.
"Who's captain here?"
Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding at the surly merchant.
After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet. This was only a quick restock. Treasure lay on the horizon.
"Lisbeth." Margot stopped her second as she passed. "See they don't go overboard on the rum again." She nodded to the crew disembarking.
Lisbeth shrugged. "I'll do what I can."
"Excuse me."
The two women turned to the forgotten merchant.
"You can't dock here."
Margot spread her arms wide. "This is the ocean. There are no rules."
He pointed to a sign nailed to the post on her right. "It says here--"
Lisbeth ripped the sign free, crushed it, and tossed it to the waves. "I'll see they stay in line." She marched after the crew.
Margot turned her attention back to the merchant. "See? No signs."
The merchant sputtered, his face turning red. "Your ship is blocking my pier!"
Behind him, a hooded figured swiped the merchant's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but something about this one called to her. She couldn't ignore a gut feeling.
"I'll see that it's moved." She lied, tipping her hat to the merchant and following after the mysterious figure.
Margot hurried down the pier and through the market, nearly losing the figure thrice, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. They couldn't have gotten far. Margot ran, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the wind knocking out of her, and the cold metal of a dagger sharp against her throat.
"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her face in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"
"No one. I'm here to--"
"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"
The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.
"To offer you a job." Margot reached for her sword. "I assume they're here for you? I'll hold them off."
The woman lowered the blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"
"Go now." Margot turned her back to the woman, her sword raised. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"
The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.
The alley was too slim for a proper fight, but Margot would make due.
"Move, woman."
Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."
The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew as his sword clanged against the stone walls of the alley, slowing his thrusts. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.
A blood-chilling scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.
As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked them back to the ground, taking off to the market.
A growing crowd disrupted the normal foot-traffic, drawing Margot's attention. As she approached, a guard punched a familiar, cloaked figure in the gut. The figure fell out of sight. Panic churned through Margot as she shoved her way to the front. By the time she broke through, the guards had pulled the figure back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."
"I've had enough as well," the woman ground out.
Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Wisps circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.
Margot decided then, she must have this woman.
Someone screamed, followed by more screams as fog filled the market. Margot entered the fray at a steady clip, never losing sight of where the woman last stood.
"What's your name?"
A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.
"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."
Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."
A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Parfait."
Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony to where her ship waited.
At the end of the dock, a sour face stopped them. "I told you to move that ship. I've alerted the authorities." The merchant pointed to Margot, and the two guards with him closed in.
"Can you swim?" Margot whispered to Najwa, a plan already forming.
"If the need arises."
"Lisbeth." Margot called to the small boat rowing shipward just off the dock. "Are all accounted for?"
"Aye, Capitaine." Lisbeth's voice was distant, but legible.
"Well then." Margot approached the merchant, who scuttled back nervously. "Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's reach and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."
Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. In no time, they'd reached Lisbeth's rowboat, wet, but no worse for wear.
Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."
"Who's captain here?"
Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding at the surly merchant.
After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet. This was only a quick restock. Treasure lay on the horizon.
"Lisbeth." Margot stopped her second as she passed. "See they don't go overboard on the rum again." She nodded to the crew disembarking.
Lisbeth shrugged. "I'll do what I can."
"Excuse me."
The two women turned to the forgotten merchant.
"You can't dock here."
Margot spread her arms wide. "This is the ocean. There are no rules."
He pointed to a sign nailed to the post on her right. "It says here--"
Lisbeth ripped the sign free, crushed it, and tossed it to the waves. "I'll see they stay in line." She marched after the crew.
Margot turned her attention back to the merchant. "See? No signs."
The merchant sputtered, his face turning red. "Your ship is blocking my pier!"
Behind him, a hooded figured swiped the merchant's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but something about this one called to her. She couldn't ignore a gut feeling.
"I'll see that it's moved." She lied, tipping her hat to the merchant and following after the mysterious figure.
Margot hurried down the pier and through the market, nearly losing the figure thrice, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. They couldn't have gotten far. Margot ran, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the wind knocking out of her, and the cold metal of a dagger sharp against her throat.
"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her face in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"
"No one. I'm here to--"
"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"
The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.
"To offer you a job." Margot reached for her sword. "I assume they're here for you? I'll hold them off."
The woman lowered the blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"
"Go now." Margot turned her back to the woman, her sword raised. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"
The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.
The alley was too slim for a proper fight, but Margot would make due.
"Move, woman."
Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."
The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew as his sword clanged against the stone walls of the alley, slowing his thrusts. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.
A blood-chilling scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.
As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked them back to the ground, taking off to the market.
A growing crowd disrupted the normal foot-traffic, drawing Margot's attention. As she approached, a guard punched a familiar, cloaked figure in the gut. The figure fell out of sight. Panic churned through Margot as she shoved her way to the front. By the time she broke through, the guards had pulled the figure back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."
"I've had enough as well," the woman ground out.
Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Wisps circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.
Margot decided then, she must have this woman.
Someone screamed, followed by more screams as fog filled the market. Margot entered the fray at a steady clip, never losing sight of where the woman last stood.
"What's your name?"
A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.
"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."
Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."
A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Parfait."
Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony to where her ship waited.
At the end of the dock, a sour face stopped them. "I told you to move that ship. I've alerted the authorities." The merchant pointed to Margot, and the two guards with him closed in.
"Can you swim?" Margot whispered to Najwa, a plan already forming.
"If the need arises."
"Lisbeth." Margot called to the small boat rowing shipward just off the dock. "Are all accounted for?"
"Aye, Capitaine." Lisbeth's voice was distant, but legible.
"Well then." Margot approached the merchant, who scuttled back nervously. "Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's reach and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."
Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. In no time, they'd reached Lisbeth's rowboat, wet, but no worse for wear.
Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."
3
Week 2 posts / Draft 2 - La Capitaine Retourne
« on: July 24, 2021, 04:19:33 AM »
"Who's captain here?"
Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding at the surly merchant.
After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet. This was only a quick restock. Treasure lay on the horizon. She would not stay on solid ground long.
"Lisbeth." Margot stopped her second as she passed. "See they don't go overboard on the rum again." She nodded to the crew disembarking.
Lisbeth nodded. "I'll do what I can."
"Excuse me." The two women turned to the forgotten merchant. "You can't dock here."
Margot spread her arms wide. "This is the ocean. There are no signs."
He pointed to a sign nailed to the post on her right. "It says here--"
Lisbeth ripped the sign free, crushed it, and tossed it to the waves. "I'll see they stay in line." She continued after the crew.
Margot turned her attention back to the merchant. "I see no sign."
The merchant sputtered, his face turning red. "Your ship is blocking my pier!"
Behind him, a hooded figured swiped the merchant's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but something about this one called to her. She couldn't ignore a gut feeling.
"I'll go see that it's moved." She tipped her hat to the merchant and followed after the mysterious figure.
Margot wove through the crowds, nearly losing the figure thrice, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley off the main market. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. But they couldn't have gotten far. Margot ran, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the cold metal of a dagger sharp against her throat.
"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"
"No one. I'm here to--"
"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"
The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.
"To offer you a job." Margot was already reaching for her sword. "I assume they're here for you? I'll hold them off."
The woman lowered the blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"
"Get out of here." Margot turned her back to the woman and lifted her sword. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"
The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.
The alley was too slim for a proper sword fight, but Margot would make due.
"Move, woman."
Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."
The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew around them as his sword clanged against the walls of the alley, making his thrusts slow and clumsy. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.
A scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.
As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked then back to the ground and took off to the main market.
A crowd was forming around a commotion in the walkway. As Margot approached, a guard punched someone in a familiar, dark cloak in the gut. She went down, and Margot pushed to the front. By the time Margot broke through, the guards had pulled the woman back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."
"I've had enough as well," the woman replied.
Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Tendrils circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.
Margot decided then, she must have this woman.
Someone screamed, then more screaming followed as a fog filled the market, but Margot walked forward at a steady clip, never losing where the woman last stood.
"What's your name?"
A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.
"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."
Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."
A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Parfait."
Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony to where her ship waited.
At the end of the dock, they were stopped by a sour face. "I told you to move that ship. I've alerted the authorities." The merchant pointed to Margot, and the two guards closed in.
"Can you swim?" Margot whispered to Najwa.
"If the need arises."
"Lisbeth." Margot called to the small boat rowing just off the dock. "Are all accounted for?"
"Aye, Capitaine." Lisbeth's voice was distant, but legible.
"Well then." Margot approached the merchant, who scuttled back nervously. "Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's hand and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."
Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. In no time they'd reached Lisbeth's rowboat, wet, but no worse for wear.
Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."
I'm not sure why this disappeared after the first time I posted it, so hopefully this isn't a repeat. Please enjoyed a much more filled out draft compared to my first week.
Boots thudded on the mossy pier. "Me voila." Capitaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her feathered tricorn, nodding at the surly merchant.
After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet. This was only a quick restock. Treasure lay on the horizon. She would not stay on solid ground long.
"Lisbeth." Margot stopped her second as she passed. "See they don't go overboard on the rum again." She nodded to the crew disembarking.
Lisbeth nodded. "I'll do what I can."
"Excuse me." The two women turned to the forgotten merchant. "You can't dock here."
Margot spread her arms wide. "This is the ocean. There are no signs."
He pointed to a sign nailed to the post on her right. "It says here--"
Lisbeth ripped the sign free, crushed it, and tossed it to the waves. "I'll see they stay in line." She continued after the crew.
Margot turned her attention back to the merchant. "I see no sign."
The merchant sputtered, his face turning red. "Your ship is blocking my pier!"
Behind him, a hooded figured swiped the merchant's purse. Margot tilted her head as she watched. She could use a quick hand. A petty thief was nothing special, but something about this one called to her. She couldn't ignore a gut feeling.
"I'll go see that it's moved." She tipped her hat to the merchant and followed after the mysterious figure.
Margot wove through the crowds, nearly losing the figure thrice, until she saw the dark hem of their cloak slip down a narrow alley off the main market. By the time she reached it, the alley was empty. But they couldn't have gotten far. Margot ran, dodging clotheslines and hopping over discarded refuse. She rounded a bend and was slammed into the wall, the cold metal of a dagger sharp against her throat.
"Why are you following me?" The cloaked figure was a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Full lips and a strong jaw. A purple scar tracked from the corner of her eye through her upper lip, leaving her in a permanent snarl. Margot nearly forgot the dagger until something warm trickled down her throat. "Who told you about me?"
"No one. I'm here to--"
"There she is." Margot's response was cut off by shouting down the alley. "Grab the witch!"
The woman's head snapped to the men crashing toward them. The look in her eye told Margot everything she needed to know.
"To offer you a job." Margot was already reaching for her sword. "I assume they're here for you? I'll hold them off."
The woman lowered the blade from Margot's throat. "A job?"
"Get out of here." Margot turned her back to the woman and lifted her sword. "Meet me by the docks. If you make it, the job is yours. Allez!"
The only reply Margot received was the swift patter of feet disappearing behind her.
The alley was too slim for a proper sword fight, but Margot would make due.
"Move, woman."
Margot lifted her sword higher. "That's Capitaine."
The man's sword was notably longer than hers. An advantage in any other situation. Sparks flew around them as his sword clanged against the walls of the alley, making his thrusts slow and clumsy. Margot ducked low, slicing a gash to his thigh. He growled and backed a few steps, toppling into his comrades.
A scream echoed behind Margot. She needed to get back to the docks.
As the men untangled themselves, Margot leaped and caught the nearest clothesline. With a swing, she knocked then back to the ground and took off to the main market.
A crowd was forming around a commotion in the walkway. As Margot approached, a guard punched someone in a familiar, dark cloak in the gut. She went down, and Margot pushed to the front. By the time Margot broke through, the guards had pulled the woman back up and held her by each arm. "That's enough with you, witch."
"I've had enough as well," the woman replied.
Her next words were muttered so low Margot couldn't make them out. At first unnoticed, and then growing like a fire, smoke billowed from the woman's cloak, her sleeves, her face, until the woman's body was nothing but smoke. Tendrils circled her captors, slipping into their ears, their mouths, their noses; choking the life from them. They dropped at her feet, knees thudding on hardpacked earth.
Margot decided then, she must have this woman.
Someone screamed, then more screaming followed as a fog filled the market, but Margot walked forward at a steady clip, never losing where the woman last stood.
"What's your name?"
A face formed, her body returned. "Najwa." Her voice was a whisper in the chaos, meant only for Margot.
"Capitaine Margot Toulouse. I can promise you adventure and riches beyond compare." Margot offered her hand. "Come with me."
Najwa's hand was warm and calloused, her grip firm. "I will."
A smile pushed at Margot's cheek. "Parfait."
Margot tugged, leading Najwa through the cacophony to where her ship waited.
At the end of the dock, they were stopped by a sour face. "I told you to move that ship. I've alerted the authorities." The merchant pointed to Margot, and the two guards closed in.
"Can you swim?" Margot whispered to Najwa.
"If the need arises."
"Lisbeth." Margot called to the small boat rowing just off the dock. "Are all accounted for?"
"Aye, Capitaine." Lisbeth's voice was distant, but legible.
"Well then." Margot approached the merchant, who scuttled back nervously. "Merci, good sir, for your hospitality. And if you don't mind," she ducked under a guard's hand and pushed Najwa off the dock, "we'll be on our way."
Margot doffed her hat, bowing grandly, before following Najwa in a dive. In no time they'd reached Lisbeth's rowboat, wet, but no worse for wear.
Margot turned to her newest crew-member. "Welcome aboard, mon ami."
I'm not sure why this disappeared after the first time I posted it, so hopefully this isn't a repeat. Please enjoyed a much more filled out draft compared to my first week.
4
Week 1 posts / First Draft - La Capitaine Retourne
« on: July 17, 2021, 12:40:25 AM »
Ok. This is definitely a first draft. What a mess. It's just a first couple sentences and then an outline of action beats and the whole thing is rather on the nose when considering the picture. But I didn't get to brainstorming until the last minute and I would rather have SOMETHING than NOTHING.
But also, I'm a little excited for this one. My first Writer in Motion story was called La Capitaine starring Capitaine Margot Toulouse in a lovers to enemies adventure at sea, and now I finally get another episode with her. You can read my first story on the forum here: https://writerinmotion.com/WIMForum/index.php?topic=146.0
My goal is to make this one episodic like the first story. So while you might enjoy getting more background on Margot's ghost crew from the first story, it shouldn't be necessary to know for this story.
?Who?s the captain here??
Boots thudded on the wooded pier. ?Me voila.? Captaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her hat, nodding at the surly merchant. After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet.
[switch to action beats]
Merchant tells Margot she can?t dock there
Margot says there isn?t a sign
Merchant points at a sign
Margot nods to a crewman who tears down the sign and Margot reiterates no sign
Margot sees the merchant being pickpocketed by a hooded figure while he complains about the ship blocking his pier.
Margot makes eye contact (spark?) but says nothing to the merchant as the hooded figure disappears into the crowd
Margot makes a weak excuse and leaves the merchant.
Margot follows the figure down a foggy alley until she is grabbed from behind and a held with a knife to the throat against a wall. Margot is excited
The figure is a woman and asks why Margot is following her and why is Margot after her.
Margot tries to explain that she?s not actually after her when there?s shouting at the other end of the alley and someone yells ?witch?
Margot tells the woman to run while she holds them off.
Margot pulls out her sword and fights the approaching men when there?s a scream from down the alley.
Margot finishes off the attackers and runs to find the woman held by more guards.
The woman says something and then her body becomes smoke, choking the men holding her until they drop to their knees and let her go.
Margot decides then and there that she needs this woman on her crew. What?s her name?
Najwa and she?s done with this city. Margot promises her riches and adventure and Najwa agrees.
They return to the boat where the annoying merchant has alerted the local authorities. They fight past them, Margot yelling for the crew to raise anchor and take off into the sunset.
But also, I'm a little excited for this one. My first Writer in Motion story was called La Capitaine starring Capitaine Margot Toulouse in a lovers to enemies adventure at sea, and now I finally get another episode with her. You can read my first story on the forum here: https://writerinmotion.com/WIMForum/index.php?topic=146.0
My goal is to make this one episodic like the first story. So while you might enjoy getting more background on Margot's ghost crew from the first story, it shouldn't be necessary to know for this story.
?Who?s the captain here??
Boots thudded on the wooded pier. ?Me voila.? Captaine Margot Toulouse touched the rim of her hat, nodding at the surly merchant. After months at sea, Margot still felt the phantom sway of the ocean beneath her feet.
[switch to action beats]
Merchant tells Margot she can?t dock there
Margot says there isn?t a sign
Merchant points at a sign
Margot nods to a crewman who tears down the sign and Margot reiterates no sign
Margot sees the merchant being pickpocketed by a hooded figure while he complains about the ship blocking his pier.
Margot makes eye contact (spark?) but says nothing to the merchant as the hooded figure disappears into the crowd
Margot makes a weak excuse and leaves the merchant.
Margot follows the figure down a foggy alley until she is grabbed from behind and a held with a knife to the throat against a wall. Margot is excited
The figure is a woman and asks why Margot is following her and why is Margot after her.
Margot tries to explain that she?s not actually after her when there?s shouting at the other end of the alley and someone yells ?witch?
Margot tells the woman to run while she holds them off.
Margot pulls out her sword and fights the approaching men when there?s a scream from down the alley.
Margot finishes off the attackers and runs to find the woman held by more guards.
The woman says something and then her body becomes smoke, choking the men holding her until they drop to their knees and let her go.
Margot decides then and there that she needs this woman on her crew. What?s her name?
Najwa and she?s done with this city. Margot promises her riches and adventure and Najwa agrees.
They return to the boat where the annoying merchant has alerted the local authorities. They fight past them, Margot yelling for the crew to raise anchor and take off into the sunset.
5
Week 4 posts / A Tense Experience - Final Draft
« on: August 29, 2020, 03:09:12 PM »
Finished! The final round of CP critiques resulted in some tightening of the story and a few new lines that I hope really dig deeper into the character arc. I wanted to make sure that Tessa didn't disappear after she saves the day. This round of Writer in Motion felt so different from last year. I'm excited to share the progress I've made in the next post. In the mean time, enjoy this final draft!A Tense Experience
This was it. Her final resting place. She would die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, Wildcat," Matt called back, already an annoying distance up the trail. "If we drop below fifty, this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa, look at this view! It's so beautiful."
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view, and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off this mountain.
Dragging her feet up the path, she looked out where the trees parted, revealing a clear view. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep, rocky grey to ocean blue and a pale purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain, this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for another inversion." Matt interrupted her musing.
Before she could respond, he tossed her his phone, threw off his shirt, and flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the cliff.
"No." She crossed her arms.
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switched his weight to one hand so he could point to the mountains behind him, and she seethed. Could he at least look tired? "My followers will love it. Do it for the gram, babe."
"I'm hot. I'm tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
"Yeah, pass." He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she didn't need another platitude on how "inversions" were about focusing on your foundation. "Don't get dead," she called back over her shoulder as she started down the mountain.
"No, wait." There was an anxious note to his voice that made her turn just in time to see him wobble.
Her eyes met his for an infinite moment, her feet rooted in disbelief, as he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of dramatic explosions and cheesy one-liners while sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it wasn't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears - her heart - and never die.
Time stopped, and she couldn't move. If she did, this would all be real.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from the cliff. "Are you still there?"
She ran to the edge before the universe could take him away again. The cliff was not as sheer as she thought. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother maybe five feet below her. He was still there, and so was she.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted, and the gravel trickled beneath him.
"Hold on, I'll find help." The trail, however, remained stubbornly empty of assistance.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but I might have overdone it with the inversions, and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damn it! Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
Crouching, she slithered over the cliff's edge, holding a sapling with her free hand to anchor herself. "Ok, I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant, and I can't pull you up on my own. Can you do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could, it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa, I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, Hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face, and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
He chuckled. "Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he caught the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like ripping from its socket, but she held on. She could be strong for him, too.
Hand over hand, he pulled himself up her body and back to her side. "My hero," he proclaimed, planting small kisses along her cheek and neck until she was laughing too hard to breathe. The mountains framed his smile, and God, was the view beautiful.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex, then." He gave her ear a nip.
A chuckle from outside their embrace returned their attention to the world around them. A couple walked down the path blowing at steaming to-go cups, their presence a reminder that this trail was not supposed to be death-defying.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand, leading her the few yards up the mountain until the trees parted, and there in a clearing sat a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door stating "Teahouse."
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." It was the only tea she liked. Tessa didn't know he remembered, and she smiled. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide, and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his fingers.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't about the tea. Remember?"
6
Week 3 posts / New title! - A TENSE EXPERIENCE
« on: August 22, 2020, 04:26:41 PM »
The feedback I got was so uplifting and constructive. I can't thank my Cps enough for the help they gave. I tried to dig deeper into the character arc for this round of editing so *fingers crossed* I hopefully didn't break the story. And I came up with a brand new title this week as well! Only took two weeks to come up with one, but apparently last year's title was too easy, so this one had to be difficult. For more details on this round of editing, see my blog post here: https://dani-frank.com/2020/08/22/writer-in-motion-2020-draft-3-cp-comments/
Anyway, enjoy round three!
This was it. Her final resting place. She was going to die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, Wildcat," Matt called back, already an annoying distance up the trail. "If we drop below fifty this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa, look at this view! It's so beautiful."
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view, and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off this mountain.
Dragging her feet up the path to where he stopped, she looked out where the trees parted, revealing a clear view. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep, rocky grey to ocean blue and a pale purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for another inversion." Matt interrupted her musing.
Before she could respond, he tossed her his phone, threw off his shirt, and flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the cliff.
"No."
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switched his weight to one hand so he could point to the mountains behind him, and she seethed. Could he at least look tired? "My followers will love it. Do it for the gram, babe."
"I'm hot. I'm tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
"Yeah, pass." He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she didn't need another platitude on how "inversions" were about focusing on your foundation. "Don't get dead," she called back over her shoulder as she started down the mountain.
"No, wait." There was an anxious note to his voice that made her turn just in time to see him wobble.
Her eyes met his for an infinite moment, her feet rooted in disbelief, as he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of dramatic explosions and cheesy one-liners while sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it wasn't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears-her heart-and never die.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from over the ledge. "Are you still there?"
Her heart felt like it had stopped and was restarting as she ran to the edge to find that the cliff was not as sheer as she thought. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother maybe five feet below her.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted, and the gravel beneath him began to trickle precariously.
"Hold on, I'll find help." The trail, however, remained stubbornly empty of assistance.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but I might have overdone it with the inversions, and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damn it! Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
Crouching, she slithered to the edge of the cliff, holding a sapling with her free hand to anchor herself. "Ok, I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant, and I can't pull you up on my own. Can you do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could, it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa, I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face, and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
He chuckled. "Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he caught the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like ripping from its socket, but she held on. She could be strong for him, too.
His hand reached the ledge and he was wrapping himself around her before he even fully pulled himself up. "My hero," he proclaimed, planting small kisses along her cheek and neck until she was laughing too hard to breathe.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex then," he replied, giving her ear a nip.
A chuckle from outside their embrace brought their attention back to the world around them. A couple appeared from further up the trail, both of them blowing at steaming to-go cups, their presence a reminder that this trail was notsupposed to be death-defying.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand, leading her the few yards up the mountain until the trees parted, and there in a clearing sat a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door stating 'Teahouse.'
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." Tessa was surprised how much she liked that he remembered the one tea she would drink. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his fingers.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't even about the tea. Remember?"
Anyway, enjoy round three!
This was it. Her final resting place. She was going to die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, Wildcat," Matt called back, already an annoying distance up the trail. "If we drop below fifty this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa, look at this view! It's so beautiful."
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view, and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off this mountain.
Dragging her feet up the path to where he stopped, she looked out where the trees parted, revealing a clear view. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep, rocky grey to ocean blue and a pale purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for another inversion." Matt interrupted her musing.
Before she could respond, he tossed her his phone, threw off his shirt, and flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the cliff.
"No."
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switched his weight to one hand so he could point to the mountains behind him, and she seethed. Could he at least look tired? "My followers will love it. Do it for the gram, babe."
"I'm hot. I'm tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
"Yeah, pass." He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she didn't need another platitude on how "inversions" were about focusing on your foundation. "Don't get dead," she called back over her shoulder as she started down the mountain.
"No, wait." There was an anxious note to his voice that made her turn just in time to see him wobble.
Her eyes met his for an infinite moment, her feet rooted in disbelief, as he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of dramatic explosions and cheesy one-liners while sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it wasn't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears-her heart-and never die.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from over the ledge. "Are you still there?"
Her heart felt like it had stopped and was restarting as she ran to the edge to find that the cliff was not as sheer as she thought. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother maybe five feet below her.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted, and the gravel beneath him began to trickle precariously.
"Hold on, I'll find help." The trail, however, remained stubbornly empty of assistance.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but I might have overdone it with the inversions, and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damn it! Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
Crouching, she slithered to the edge of the cliff, holding a sapling with her free hand to anchor herself. "Ok, I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant, and I can't pull you up on my own. Can you do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could, it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa, I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face, and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
He chuckled. "Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he caught the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like ripping from its socket, but she held on. She could be strong for him, too.
His hand reached the ledge and he was wrapping himself around her before he even fully pulled himself up. "My hero," he proclaimed, planting small kisses along her cheek and neck until she was laughing too hard to breathe.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex then," he replied, giving her ear a nip.
A chuckle from outside their embrace brought their attention back to the world around them. A couple appeared from further up the trail, both of them blowing at steaming to-go cups, their presence a reminder that this trail was notsupposed to be death-defying.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand, leading her the few yards up the mountain until the trees parted, and there in a clearing sat a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door stating 'Teahouse.'
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." Tessa was surprised how much she liked that he remembered the one tea she would drink. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his fingers.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't even about the tea. Remember?"
7
Week 2 posts / Second draft - Still no title >.<
« on: August 12, 2020, 03:02:43 AM »
If you would like more commentary on the making of my second draft, you can check out my blog post: https://dani-frank.com/2020/08/12/writer-in-motion-2020-the-1st-and-2nd-draft/
But if you want to just skip to the good stuff, please continue reading.
This was it. Her final resting place. She was going to die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, wildcat," Matt called back, already an annoying distance up the trail. "If we drop below fifty this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa, look at this view! It's so beautiful."
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off this mountain.
Dragging her feet up the path to where he stopped, she looked out where the trees parted revealing a clear view. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep, rocky grey to ocean blue and a distant, pale purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for another inversion." Matt interrupted her musing.
Before she could respond, he tossed her his phone, threw off his shirt, and flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the cliff.
"No."
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switched his weight to one hand so he can point to the mountains behind him and she seethed. Could he at least look tired? "My followers will love it. Do it for the gram, babe."
"I'm hot. I'm tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
This was it. He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she would not take one more photo and she was done with this mountain.
"I'm done, Matt. Don't get dead." And with that she turned to walk back down the way she came when a swift breeze whipped around the side of the mountain, tangled in his legs, and pulled.
There was an infinite moment where his eyes met hers before he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of Keanu, sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout food on the coffee table and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it wasn't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears-her heart-and never die.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from over the ledge. "Are you still there?"
She ran to the edge to find that the cliff was not as sheer as she though. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother maybe five feet below her.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted and the gravel beneath him began to trickle precariously.
"Hold on, I'll find help." They had to be about three miles up now and the last group that passed was maybe ten minutes ago. There was no telling when the next would come by, or if they would even have any idea how to get him out of this.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but also I might have overdone it with the inversions, and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damnit, Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt then, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
"Ok, I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant, and I can't pull you up on my own. Do you think you can do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could, it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
He chuckled. "Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he caught the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like it would rip out of its socket, but she held on as he pulled his way back to her.
"Tessa, you're amazing," he cried, wrapping her in his arms and planting small kisses along her cheek and neck. Her heart melted and she pulled him closer, unable to get enough of him.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex then," he replied automatically, giving her ear a nip.
A chuckle from outside their embrace brought their attention back to the world around them. Another couple appeared around the corner, both of them blowing at steaming to-go cups and pretending they hadn't heard their entire conversation.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand and they both hurried the few yards up the mountain until the trees parted, and there in a clearing was a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door simply stating 'Teahouse'.
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." Tessa was surprised how much she liked that he remembered the one tea she would drink. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his fingers.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't even about the tea. Remember?"
But if you want to just skip to the good stuff, please continue reading.
This was it. Her final resting place. She was going to die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, wildcat," Matt called back, already an annoying distance up the trail. "If we drop below fifty this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa, look at this view! It's so beautiful."
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off this mountain.
Dragging her feet up the path to where he stopped, she looked out where the trees parted revealing a clear view. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep, rocky grey to ocean blue and a distant, pale purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for another inversion." Matt interrupted her musing.
Before she could respond, he tossed her his phone, threw off his shirt, and flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the cliff.
"No."
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switched his weight to one hand so he can point to the mountains behind him and she seethed. Could he at least look tired? "My followers will love it. Do it for the gram, babe."
"I'm hot. I'm tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
This was it. He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she would not take one more photo and she was done with this mountain.
"I'm done, Matt. Don't get dead." And with that she turned to walk back down the way she came when a swift breeze whipped around the side of the mountain, tangled in his legs, and pulled.
There was an infinite moment where his eyes met hers before he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of Keanu, sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout food on the coffee table and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it wasn't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears-her heart-and never die.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from over the ledge. "Are you still there?"
She ran to the edge to find that the cliff was not as sheer as she though. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother maybe five feet below her.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted and the gravel beneath him began to trickle precariously.
"Hold on, I'll find help." They had to be about three miles up now and the last group that passed was maybe ten minutes ago. There was no telling when the next would come by, or if they would even have any idea how to get him out of this.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but also I might have overdone it with the inversions, and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damnit, Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt then, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
"Ok, I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant, and I can't pull you up on my own. Do you think you can do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could, it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
He chuckled. "Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he caught the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like it would rip out of its socket, but she held on as he pulled his way back to her.
"Tessa, you're amazing," he cried, wrapping her in his arms and planting small kisses along her cheek and neck. Her heart melted and she pulled him closer, unable to get enough of him.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex then," he replied automatically, giving her ear a nip.
A chuckle from outside their embrace brought their attention back to the world around them. Another couple appeared around the corner, both of them blowing at steaming to-go cups and pretending they hadn't heard their entire conversation.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand and they both hurried the few yards up the mountain until the trees parted, and there in a clearing was a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door simply stating 'Teahouse'.
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." Tessa was surprised how much she liked that he remembered the one tea she would drink. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his fingers.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't even about the tea. Remember?"
8
Week 1 posts / First draft - untitled
« on: August 07, 2020, 09:46:42 PM »
Welcome. Welcome. This is my first draft and also my first attempt at a romcom. Parts of this is Frankenstein-ed together and I had to try really hard to not reread (and then edit everything). I'm pretty sure I will need to smooth out and maybe tone down some of the dialog.
If you haven't seen the movie Speed, I highly recommend it (or at least watch the trailer here https://youtu.be/Fk4A1AY10U0 to get a lot of my references). I don't know why Speed happened in this story, but that's just what came out. As an aside, this story is very loosely based on a true story. So without further ado, enjoy!
This was it. Her final resting place. She was going to die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, wildcat," Matt called back from an annoying distance ahead on the trail. "If we drop below 50 this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa! Look at this view. It's so beautiful!"
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off of this mountain.
Dragging her feet around the bend to where he stopped, she looked out where the trees backed off and opened a clear view of the mountain range. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep rocky grey fading to sky blue and a distant purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for an inversion. Can you grab the camera out of my bag?"
Before she could say anything further, he dropped his bag, threw off his shirt, and had flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the flat rock cliff.
"No."
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switches his weight to one hand so he can point out at the mountains behind him and she seethed. Could he at least look tired?
"I am hot. I am tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
This was it. He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she would not take one more photo and she was not going to take a step further up this mountain.
"I'm done, Matt. Don't get dead." And with that she turned to walk back down the way she came when a swift breeze whipped around the side of the mountain, tangled in his legs, and pulled.
There was an infinite moment where his eyes met hers before he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of Keanu, sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout food on the coffee table and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it weren't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears--her heart--and never die.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from over the ledge. "Are you still there?"
She ran to the edge to find that the cliff was not as sheer as she though. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother, maybe five feet below her.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted and the gravel beneath him began to trickle precariously.
"Hold on, I'll find help." They had to be about three miles up now and passed fewer and fewer people. The last group that passed was about ten minutes ago and there was no telling when the next would come by or if they would even have any ideas of how to get him out of this.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but also I might have over done it with the inversions and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damnit, Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt then, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
"Ok I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant and I can't pull you up on my own. Do you think you can do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
"Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he was able to grab the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like it would rip out of its socket, but she held on as he continued to climb and scramble back up to her.
"Tessa, you're amazing," he cried, wrapping her in his arms and planting small kisses along her cheeks and neck. Her heart melted and she pulled him closer, unable to get enough of him.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex then," he replied automatically, giving her a nip at her ear.
A chuckle from outside of their embrace brought their attention back to the world around them. Another couple appeared around the corner, both of them blowing at steaming to-go cups and trying hard to look like they hadn't been listening to their conversation.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand and they both hurried the few yards up the mountain until they reached a curve and the trees parted, and there in a small clearing was a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door simply stating Tea House.
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." Tessa was surprised how much she liked that he remembered the one tea she would drink. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his hands.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't even about the tea. Remember?"
If you haven't seen the movie Speed, I highly recommend it (or at least watch the trailer here https://youtu.be/Fk4A1AY10U0 to get a lot of my references). I don't know why Speed happened in this story, but that's just what came out. As an aside, this story is very loosely based on a true story. So without further ado, enjoy!
This was it. Her final resting place. She was going to die on this dumb mountain without even reaching the top.
"I'm done."
"Come on, wildcat," Matt called back from an annoying distance ahead on the trail. "If we drop below 50 this bus will blow."
"Screw that, Keanu. Let the mountain take me."
"It can't be much further," Matt repeated for the seventh time in the past hour. His perfect ass was no longer enough motivation to keep going.
"Oh wow. Tessa! Look at this view. It's so beautiful!"
They were on a mountain in a national park. Every bend had a beautiful view and she was getting pretty damn sick of them. Jesus help her, if he did another handstand, she would push him off of this mountain.
Dragging her feet around the bend to where he stopped, she looked out where the trees backed off and opened a clear view of the mountain range. The mountains faded into the distance from a deep rocky grey fading to sky blue and a distant purple. It was gorgeous. If she wasn't sweating like a pig and gasping like a fish on a freaking mountain this could almost be considered romantic.
"This would be the perfect backdrop for an inversion. Can you grab the camera out of my bag?"
Before she could say anything further, he dropped his bag, threw off his shirt, and had flipped himself into a perfect handstand on the flat rock cliff.
"No."
"But, babe. Look at this view." He switches his weight to one hand so he can point out at the mountains behind him and she seethed. Could he at least look tired?
"I am hot. I am tired. And I don't even like tea!"
"It's not about the tea. It's about the journey to the top."
This was it. He was a nice guy and the sex was amazing, but she would not take one more photo and she was not going to take a step further up this mountain.
"I'm done, Matt. Don't get dead." And with that she turned to walk back down the way she came when a swift breeze whipped around the side of the mountain, tangled in his legs, and pulled.
There was an infinite moment where his eyes met hers before he tumbled out of view.
"Matt!"
Tessa was surprised to see Keanu Reeves flash before her eyes. Hours and hours of Keanu, sitting on a lumpy, upcycled couch with boxes of takeout food on the coffee table and Matt laughing and cheering Keanu on with her. This was supposed to be something casual. And even if it weren't, he was supposed to be safe. Miles up a mountain and he's still doing handstands. He was supposed to be indestructible, someone who could carry her hopes and fears--her heart--and never die.
"Tessa?" A soft call came from over the ledge. "Are you still there?"
She ran to the edge to find that the cliff was not as sheer as she though. He clung to the face like a baby opossum on its mother, maybe five feet below her.
"Matt! I'm here."
"I don't think I can move." He shifted and the gravel beneath him began to trickle precariously.
"Hold on, I'll find help." They had to be about three miles up now and passed fewer and fewer people. The last group that passed was about ten minutes ago and there was no telling when the next would come by or if they would even have any ideas of how to get him out of this.
"Thanks, Tessa. I really appreciate you, but also I might have over done it with the inversions and I'm not sure how long I can hang on."
Damnit, Matt and his handstands. She whipped off her shirt then, a shallow part of her glad she picked her cute sports bra for the hike.
"Ok I'm going to lower this down to you, but you're a meaty giant and I can't pull you up on my own. Do you think you can do it?" She lowered her shirt over the edge. Stretching as far as she could it landed about a foot above his head. It would have to be enough.
"Tessa I'm scared."
"Pop quiz, hotshot. You're stuck on a mountain face and this is your only way out. What do you do?"
"Thank goodness this isn't a 'shoot the hostage' situation."
Taking a deep breath, he performed some sort of jump and scramble until he was able to grab the end of her shirt. Tessa's arm felt like it would rip out of its socket, but she held on as he continued to climb and scramble back up to her.
"Tessa, you're amazing," he cried, wrapping her in his arms and planting small kisses along her cheeks and neck. Her heart melted and she pulled him closer, unable to get enough of him.
"I have to warn you," she said. "I've heard relationships based on tense experiences never work."
"We'll have to base it on sex then," he replied automatically, giving her a nip at her ear.
A chuckle from outside of their embrace brought their attention back to the world around them. Another couple appeared around the corner, both of them blowing at steaming to-go cups and trying hard to look like they hadn't been listening to their conversation.
"We're almost there!" Matt grabbed her hand and they both hurried the few yards up the mountain until they reached a curve and the trees parted, and there in a small clearing was a small cottage with a neatly printed sign over the door simply stating Tea House.
Matt walked straight inside and up to the register.
"Two chai teas, please." Tessa was surprised how much she liked that he remembered the one tea she would drink. He placed his card confidently down on the counter for the barista to take.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied. "We only take cash."
He turned back to Tessa, his eyes wide and covered his mouth with both hands. "I didn't even think about bringing cash," he mumbled through his hands.
Tessa burst out laughing. "This wasn't even about the tea. Remember?"
9
Week 0 posts / Dani's Initial thoughts
« on: August 06, 2020, 04:06:16 PM »
My first thought when looking at the photo prompt was that this photo had to have been in Taylor's mood board while writing Folklore and I should try my hand at witchy horror. My next thought was that I've never written horror, I typically don't read horror, and I don't have a strong desire to write horror. What a conundrum.
So instead I continued thinking. And while I did that thinking, I happened to be on a romantic hiking trip (read: sweaty uphill battle with some rock stairs) with my husband to celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary. Awww so cute. Anyway, I've had a romcom on the back burner for NaNoWriMo this year, so I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to test the water if you will. Nothing too explicit, but the story started to naturally take shape as we continued hiking and I continued whining.
Here's a link to my blog post with photos of my inspiration and more details on what I came up with: https://dani-frank.com/2020/08/06/writer-in-motion-2020-initial-thoughts/
So instead I continued thinking. And while I did that thinking, I happened to be on a romantic hiking trip (read: sweaty uphill battle with some rock stairs) with my husband to celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary. Awww so cute. Anyway, I've had a romcom on the back burner for NaNoWriMo this year, so I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to test the water if you will. Nothing too explicit, but the story started to naturally take shape as we continued hiking and I continued whining.
Here's a link to my blog post with photos of my inspiration and more details on what I came up with: https://dani-frank.com/2020/08/06/writer-in-motion-2020-initial-thoughts/
10
Writer & Editor Bios / Dani?s bio
« on: August 02, 2020, 01:08:10 PM »
Name: Dani Frank
Preferred Pronouns: She/Her
Bio: Dani currently works at a tiny museum in NYC (note: museum is only tiny in NYC). She has a BA and MS in nothing to do with writing except that they required a lot of writing to get them thank you very much.
What type of stories do you write?
I'm not sure I?ve written enough to really have a genre but I?d probably lean towards fantasy and romcom romance. I like to focus on human interactions and I?m a sucker for that HEA.
What are you working on right now?
I?m currently revising a NA fantasy (hoping to eventually figure out if it?s adult or upper YA). I?d summarize it as a coming of age for two royal sisters with the complicated family and political drama of STAR WARS and set in a sort of imagined medieval America (think more castles, corn fields, and indigenous technology).
My Writer In Motion Project:
WIM Story 2.0 (I?ll come up with something better later)
Connect With Me:
Website
Twitter
Preferred Pronouns: She/Her
Bio: Dani currently works at a tiny museum in NYC (note: museum is only tiny in NYC). She has a BA and MS in nothing to do with writing except that they required a lot of writing to get them thank you very much.
What type of stories do you write?
I'm not sure I?ve written enough to really have a genre but I?d probably lean towards fantasy and romcom romance. I like to focus on human interactions and I?m a sucker for that HEA.
What are you working on right now?
I?m currently revising a NA fantasy (hoping to eventually figure out if it?s adult or upper YA). I?d summarize it as a coming of age for two royal sisters with the complicated family and political drama of STAR WARS and set in a sort of imagined medieval America (think more castles, corn fields, and indigenous technology).
My Writer In Motion Project:
WIM Story 2.0 (I?ll come up with something better later)
Connect With Me:
Website
11
Brainstorm Your Story Idea / General quandary
« on: August 02, 2020, 02:52:47 AM »
I was looking at the prompt and my first thought was, how many times do I need to listen to folklore before I /really/ get it?
If anyone has the answer, I would appreciate their feedback. Currently, I?m thinking around 10 times. Is this high or low?
If anyone has the answer, I would appreciate their feedback. Currently, I?m thinking around 10 times. Is this high or low?
12
Week 5 posts / So long, and thanks for all the fish
« on: December 06, 2019, 02:33:55 AM »What I wanted to do
There were three main goals I had in mind when I entered that lottery over a month ago:
- Build a writing community that I can talk to and ask all the questions
- Learn all the things! Or at least some things. Which is more than I knew before, and
- Have some written material on the internet for the world to see that I can be proud of. Or at least ok with.
But to be perfectly honest, I was fairly confident my name would be drawn, and I would be obligated to join this event. Did you know you can enter every day after the lottery opens? I think most people must have just done the default 1-3 entries, but past-Dani entered every day so that approximately 10% of the entries were my name while constantly saying this is super scary, but it will be good for future-Dani. And then future-Dani cursed past-Dani when her name was first on the list of lottery winners. Now I must engage! I must perform, good or bad, sink or swim. Because the people are watching and they know what they are doing and what they are talking about.
In summary, I was super stressed going into it. What if I'm not really a writer? Have I been lying this whole time? Maybe I just really like reading books, and if I actually jump out of the comfort nest I've been hiding in, I'll plummet to my death a.k.a. write something super crappy and embarrassing and be booed off of the internet. Because that's how the internet works. It's like survivor and we just vote people off this island periodically.
What actually happened
I learned so much more than I even expected. I found a group of super helpful people that allowed me to pester them with question as I grew from my little seedling state to a slightly larger seedling with some nice book suggestions and writing advice, and now I have a tiny story to share that is there. Right there on the internet. Where all of the internet people can see it. And I'm still constantly thinking about changing it, even though this event is over, get past it, Dani, your story is lovely. Fine even. In fact, there are even people that said they liked it. I enjoyed writing it.
Surprising things I learned about myself as I worked through this whole process! (That's not a sentence, but it needed to happen) I enjoy action, fantasy, and apparently names are really important to me. If you were following along, you might have heard that I was looking at The Prompt and decided that she looks like a Margot. I couldn't come up with a male name, after many, many, many failed attempts at pirate-y male names that aren't actual humans' names and ended up using Guy as a placeholder. In round two of edits, I had so much fun using these names to fill in their backstory. Margot is a French name, Guy is English, but in French, Guy is pronounced Ghee. A romance/rivalry backstory was suddenly formed. And that's when I learned my joy of writing two stories at once. The one you read and the one that was always there.
What I'm left with and where to go from here
I had hoped to start a blog during this... event? Contest? (I still never learned what this internet thing that I participated in was called) But I was working full time and just moved into a new place and these are excuses, but it turns out starting a blog takes time and work, and I just didn't get around to it. If you follow me on twitter, I'll keep you posted when that happens, because I'm cutting back my hours in the new year and will have time to make something special just for you. Yes you, individual person reading this post. I care for you and shall show it in blog form.
I'm hoping to use the blog to show my progress from zero to hero, as the kids say. There will probably be some museum stuff on there too because that is the other thing I do - museum stuff. I see a crossover in my future and it is beautiful. I hope you are there to see it as well, new friend.
P.s. If you are thinking about doing the next Writer in Motion, just do it. If you're like me and are too nervous to fully commit so maybe you'll sit on the sideline and watch and see what people do, enter the lottery every day so that you have to publicly perform. You should be here. Be brave. The writing community here is super supportive and ready to help you grow and push you in the right direction.
13
Week 4 posts / La Capitaine: Final Draft
« on: November 29, 2019, 06:16:43 PM »Welcome
I have finished a final clean up and took advantage of the removal of the word limit to clear up some tricky areas. That's right. A scandalous 1010 words now make my story. While I got to most of the suggested changes, it was also suggested to switch my story from present tense to past to make it more comparable to other epic adventure/fantasy novels. But this was a holiday week and I didn't have time to rewrite my entire story. I did try rewriting the first few lines, but so much of my story relies on the immediacy of the tone. I really wanted my readers to feel along with Margot as she goes through this story. If it was a whole novel, I would rather write in past tense, but having such a short story was a fun chance to try to present tense and built in with the suspense. I may try rewriting it again this weekend in past tense, but for the sake of timeliness and the fun of the present, I present the definitely final, not something that I will constantly think about editing more, version of La Capitaine.
La Capitaine
Margot levels her pistol at the man at her desk, the sound of it cocking stops his search.
"Bonsoir, mon petit lapin," she says. A little rabbit. She chuckles at the lie. He is a shark, circling for blood.
"Margot," he coos, drawing out her name. "Where is the map?"
"That's Capitaine Margot, Guy." The French of her homeland molds his flat English name into something almost forgotten. He once told her the only reason he learned French was to ask her to say it again.
Even now, she sees the question forming in the curve of his lips, in that sparkle in his eye, but as he opens his mouth there is a thundering outside and the floor jerks beneath them, throwing them to the wall. Cannons. His ship is faster than she anticipated.
The second volley blasts through the wall and sends Guy sprawling towards the precipice, his eyes wide and blue as the sea. Margot grabs his outstretched hand, but his weight and momentum are too much. He pulls her with him. They plunge into the water.
Below is cold and silence. She kicks to the surface, gasping air into her lungs. Above is all sound, heat, and waves. A fire erupts below deck on her ship. Rowboats lower as her crew clamber into the too-small vessels. Deafening thunder echoes across the water, reverberating in the valley between the two ships, as a ball of metal slams into the rowboat. It shatters. The sound fills her ears with cotton. She barely hears her own scream, let alone the cries of her people as they plummet.
Hands drag her from the water. Margot registers nothing until she climbs onto the deck and meets the cold eyes of Captain Guy Roberts. Over his shoulder, the last of her ship sinks out of sight.
"If I can't have the map," says Guy, "Then you will take me to the talisman."
Margot stares into the empty waters. Minutes ago, she shared a meal with her crew. Now they are gone.
"Margot!" Guy cries, as she continues to stare past him.
He'd betrayed her for the last time. Her fists tighten, aching for a sword lost to the sea. Her gaze skewers him as she crosses the deck. Black tendrils escape her braid, whipping across her face, but she doesn't break eye contact. A smile carves across Guy's face as she nears and his gaze darts to her lips.
In one smooth motion, she pulls the cutlass from his scabbard and presses it to his neck. His smile slips ever-so-slightly and he swallows. A trickle of blood travels down his neck from her unyielding sword. "That's Capitaine Margot, Guy."
"There's no point dueling now." His voice is smooth despite the steel scraping his throat. "Your ship is beneath the sea. You're surrounded." His eyes soften. "Join me, Margot," he pleads. "Who knows what power the talisman holds."
The cries of her crew still echoes in her ears. She snarls and pushes him from her.
"Find a sword, Guy."
A shipmate hands him a blade, but Guy ignores it as he looks urgingly into Margot's eyes.
"You want the talisman?" she taunts, pulling a chain from around her neck. The long cylinder dangles from the end, waving back and forth. His softness vanishes as his eyes follow the charm.
"Very well," he replies, taking the blade.
Margot has dueled Guy many times. This will be the last.
Metal clangs. His form has improved, and he disarms her near the starboard side, her blade sliding across the deck. Guy grabs her by the braid, pulling her head back as he lifts his sword.
"It didn't have to be like this," he whispers.
Margot ducks and the sword slices her braid. Pulling a knife from her boot, she pierces his side and rolls out of reach. But her sword has disappeared from where she last saw it, and Guy's crew is closing in, corralling her against the rail. She is trapped and out of options. Behind her, the water calls her name. She could join her crew at the bottom or...
Her gaze lands on the rigging nearby. She is not yet finished. While Guy's crew binds his wound, she returns her knife and climbs, a plan forming as she ascends.
"You have nowhere to go," Guy calls. "The talisman is mine."
Despite her shorn hair pelting her face, she reaches the crow's nest and retrieves the talisman. Raising it high, she wills its magic to channel through her. Below, the water boils.
When the first mast bursts forth, the crew turns to the commotion. As though it always sailed from the deep, Margot's ship returns to the surface, water pouring down its sides.
"A ghost ship," they say, their eyes transfixed. Margot can't look away. The talisman channeled her regret, her sorrow. It found her heart's desire.
Water trickles from every crack as her ship lines itself with Guy's. The first cannon breaks their trance. Through the blasts and the violent shaking of the ship, Margot almost misses the sensation of a hand around her ankle.
Throwing her coat-tail to the side, she kicks Guy with all her might. His grip loosens but doesn't detach, and he turns back to her, blood running from his nose, raised lip baring his teeth.
Frustrated, Margot retrieves her blade and holds it just above his eye. "Lib?rez-moi,."
"You wouldn't, Margot."
"That's Capitaine Margot." She jabs, leaving a streak from brow to cheek.
Guy grabs his face with a scream, and Margot slides down to the sail, cutting loose a rope. He might lose the eye, but he would live.
"Au revoir, Guy," she calls.
Hate seers her from his one good eye, the other covered by his hand. Taking the rope, she swings across the chasm.
"Allons-y, mes comarades," she calls as her boots hit the deck.
Capitaine Margot Toulouse glances back at the smoldering remains of Guy's ship. That won't be enough to end him, but she has greater treasure waiting beyond the horizon.
14
Week 3 posts / Week 3 - La Capitaine
« on: November 22, 2019, 05:15:28 AM »Welcome
My biggest feedback was the confusion on POV throughout the story. While it was at times frustrating to read, I accept that this was a design error and not a user error. So, without further influencing your view on the POV, I hope the changes I made have cleared things up. I also was made aware of two glaring plot holes in my previous version, which I did my best to patch up. The majority of the story stayed mostly the same. This edit was more of a freshening up and cleaning loose ends. I also managed to keep the word count from 999 words to 1000.
La Capitaine
Margot levels her pistol at the man at her desk, the sound of it cocking stops his search.
"Bonsoir, mon petit lapin." A little rabbit. She chuckles at the lie. He is a shark, circling for blood.
"Margot," he coos, drawing out her name. "Where is the map?"
"That's Capitaine Margot, Guy."
The French of her homeland molds his flat English name into something almost forgotten. He once told Margot the only reason he learned French was to ask her to say it again.
Even now, she sees the question forming in the curve of his lips, in that sparkle in his eye, but as he opens his mouth there is a thundering outside and the floor throws them to the wall. His ship is faster than she anticipated.
The second volley blasts through her wall itself and sends Guy sprawling towards the precipice, his eyes wide and blue as the sea. Margot grabs his outstretched hand, but his weight and momentum are too much. She is pulled with him. They plunge into the water.
Below is cold and silence. She kicks to the surface, gasping air into her lungs. Above is all sound, heat, and waves. A fire erupts below deck. Rowboats are lowering as men and women--her crew--clamber into the too-small vessel. A deafening thunder echoes across the water, reverberating in the valley between the two ships, as a ball of metal slams into the rowboat. It shatters. The sound fills her ears with cotton. She barely hears her own scream, let alone the cries of her people, as they plummet.
Hands drag her from the water. Margot registers nothing until she climbs onto the deck and meets the cold, blue eyes of Captain Guy Roberts. Over his shoulder, the last of her ship sinks out of sight.
"If I can't have the map," says Guy, "Then you will take me to the talisman."
Margot stares into the empty waters. Mere minutes ago, she shared a meal with her crew. Now they are gone. All gone.
"Margot!" Guy cries, as she stares past him.
He's betrayed her for the last time. Her eyes skewer him as she crosses the deck. Black tendrils escape her braid, whipping across her face, but she doesn't break eye contact. A smile carves across Guy's face as she nears and his eyes dart to her lips.
"That's Capitaine Margot, Guy."
In one smooth motion, she pulls the cutlass from his scabbard and presses it to his neck. His smile slips ever-so-slightly and he swallows. A trickle of blood travels down his neck from her unyielding sword.
"There's no point dueling now." His voice is smooth despite the steel scraping his throat. "Your ship is beneath the sea. You're surrounded." His eyes soften. "Join me, Margot," he pleads. "Who knows what power the talisman holds."
The cries of her crew still echo in her ears. She snarls and pushes him from her.
"Get a sword, Guy."
"Margot." A shipmate hands him a blade, but Guy ignores it as he looks urgingly into Margot's eyes.
"You want the talisman?" she taunts, pulling a chain from around her neck. The long cylinder dangles from the end, waving back and forth. His softness vanishes as his eyes follow the charm.
"Very well," he replies, taking the blade.
Margot has dueled Guy many times before. This is the last time.
Metal clangs. His form has improved and Guy disarms her near the starboard side, her blade sliding across the deck. Guy grabs her by the braid, pulling her head back as he lifts his sword.
"It didn't have to be like this," he whispers.
Margot ducks and the sword slices her braid. Pulling a knife from her boot, she pierces his side. Her sword is reclaimed by his crew. She is trapped and out of options. Behind her, the water calls her name. She could join her crew at the bottom or...
Her eyes land on the rigging nearby. She is not yet finished. While Guy's crew binds his wound, she returns her knife and climbs, a plan forming as she ascends.
"You have nowhere to go, Margot," Guy calls. "The talisman is mine."
Despite her shorn hair pelting her face, she reaches the crow's nest and retrieves the talisman. Raising it high, she wills its magic to channel through her. Below, the water boils.
When the first mast bursts forth, the crew turns to the commotion. As though it always sailed from the deep, Margot's ship returns to the surface, water pouring down its sides.
"A ghost ship," they are saying, their eyes transfixed. Margot can't look away. The talisman channeled her regret, her sorrow. It found her heart's desire.
Water trickles from every crack as the ship lines itself with Guy's. The first cannon brakes their trance. Through the blasts and the violent shaking of the ship, Margot almost misses the sensation of a hand around her ankle.
Guy has caught up to her. But Margot's future has just returned, and she has no patience. Throwing her coat-tail to the side, she kicks Guy with all her might. His grip loosens but doesn't detach and he turns back to her with blood running from his nose, his lip raised baring his teeth. Frustrated, Margot retrieves her blade and holds it just above his eye.
"Liberez-moi, Guy."
"You wouldn't, Margot."
"That's Capitaine Margot." She jabs, leaving a streak from brow to cheek. He might lose the eye, but he would live. Guy grabs his face with a scream and Margot slides down to the sail, cutting loose a rope.
"Au revoir, Guy," she calls. Hate seers her with his one good eye, the other covered by his hand. Taking the rope, she swings across the chasm.
"Allons-y, mes comarades," she calls as her boots hit the deck.
Capitaine Margot Toulouse glances back at the smoldering remains of Guy's ship. That won't be enough to end him, but she has greater treasure waiting beyond the horizon.
15
Week 2 posts / Second Draft - La Capitaine
« on: November 15, 2019, 07:14:42 PM »Some notes
I made it!! *sobs with joy* This was emotionally exhausting. I did not realize how attached to each sentence I was until it came time to cutting them. I started a twitter thread just so I had a public place to scream my frustrations into the world. I reread this story dozens of times over the past week and, if we're being honest, there's probably still some typos in it. My process was rewrite from my outline so it looks beautiful and then cut 1/3 of that beautiful thing that I just made. But here we are 999 words later. Enjoy and savor.
La Capitaine
He stops riffling her desk at the sound of her pistol cocking and she smiles.
"Bonsoir, mon petit lapin." A little rabbit. He hates the name. He is a shark, circling for blood.
"Margot," he coos, drawing out her name. His jaw is sharp as a blade. "Where is the map?"
"That's Capitaine Margot, Guy."
He likes the way his name flows from her lips. The French of her homeland molding his flat English name into something new. He once said he only learned French to ask her to say it again.
Even now, the question forms in the curve of his lips, in the sparkle in his eye, but as he opens his mouth the floor jerks beneath their feet. His ship is faster than she anticipated.
The second volley blasts a hole through her wall and sends Guy sprawling towards the precipice, his eyes wide and blue as the sea. She grabs his outstretched hand, but his weight and momentum are too much. She is pulled with him. They plunge into the water.
Below is cold and silence. She kicks to the surface, gasping air into her lungs. Above is all sound, heat, and waves. A fire erupts below deck. Rowboats are lowering as men and women?-her crew-clamber into the too small vessel. A deafening thunder echoes across the water, reverberating in the valley between the two ships, as a ball of metal slams into a rowboat. It shatters. The sound fills her ears with cotton. She barely hears her own scream, let alone the cries of her people, as they plummet.
Hands drag her from the water. Margot registers nothing until she climbs onto the deck and meets the cold, blue eyes of Captain Guy Roberts. Over his shoulder, the last of her ship sinks out of sight.
"If I can't have the map," says Guy, "Then you will take me to the talisman."
Margot stares into the empty waters. Mere minutes ago, she shared a meal with her crew. Now they are gone. All gone.
"Margot!" Guy cries, as she stares past him.
He's betrayed her for the last time. Her eyes skewer him as she crosses the deck. Black tendrils escape her braid, whipping across her face, but she doesn't break eye contact. A smile carves across Guy's face as she nears and his eyes dart to her lips.
"That's Capitaine Margot, Guy."
In one smooth motion, she pulls his sword from his scabbard and presses it to his neck. His smile slips ever-so-slightly and he swallows. A trickle of blood travels down his neck from her unyielding sword.
"There's no point dueling now." His voice is smooth despite the steel scraping his throat. "Your ship is beneath the sea. You're surrounded." His eyes soften. "Join me, Margot," he pleads. "Who knows what power the talisman holds."
The cries of her crew still echo in her ears. She sneers and pushes him from her.
"Get a sword, Guy."
"Margot," he pleads. A shipmate hands him a blade, but Guy ignores it as he looks pleadingly into Margot's eyes.
"You want the talisman?" she taunts, pulling a chain from around her neck. The long cylinder dangles from the end, waving back and forth. His softness vanishes as his eyes follow the charm.
"Very well," he replies, taking the blade. This isn't her first time fighting Guy, but it will be her last.
Metal clangs. His form has improved and Guy disarms her near the starboard side, her blade sliding across the deck. Guy grabs her by the braid, pulling her head back as he lifts his sword.
"It didn't have to be like this," he whispers.
Margot ducks and the sword slices her braid. Pulling a knife from her boot, she pierces his side. Her sword is reclaimed by his crew. She is trapped and out of options. Behind her, the water calls her name. She could join her crew at the bottom or...
Her eyes land on the rigging nearby. She is not yet finished. While Guy's crew binds his wound, she climbs, plan forming as she ascends.
"You have nowhere to go, Margot," Guy calls. "The talisman is mine."
Despite her shorn hair pelting her face, she reaches the crow's nest and retrieves the talisman. Raising it high, she wills its magic to channel through her. Below, the water boils.
When the first mast bursts forth, the crew turns to the commotion. As though it always sailed from the deep, Margot's ship returns to the surface, water pouring down its sides.
"A ghost ship," the crew murmurs, their eyes transfixed. Margot can't look away. The talisman channeled her regret, her sorrow. It found her heart's desire.
Water trickles from every crack as the ship lines itself with Guy's. The first cannon brakes their trance. Through the blasts and the violent shaking of the ship, Margot almost misses the sensation of a hand around her ankle.
Guy has caught up to her. But Margot's future has just returned, and she has no patience. Throwing her coat-tail to the side, she kicks Guy with all her might. His grip loosens but doesn't detach and he turns back to her with blood running from his nose, his lip raised baring his teeth. Frustrated, Margot unsheathes her sword and holds it just above his eye.
"Lib?rez-moi, Guy."
"You wouldn't, Margot."
"That's Capitaine Margot." She jabs, leaving a streak from brow to cheek. He might lose the eye, but he would live. Guy grabs his face with a scream and Margot slides down to the sail, cutting loose a rope.
"Au revoir, Guy," she calls. He sneers hate with his one good eye, the other covered by his hand. Taking the rope, she swings across the chasm.
"Allons-y, mes comarades," she calls as her boots hit the deck.
Capitaine Margot Toulouse glances back at the smoldering remains of Guy Roberts. That won't be enough to end him, but she has greater treasure waiting beyond the horizon.
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