Writer In Motion Forum

Week in and week out I wondered how you could top yourself, yet you accomplished it without fail. I enjoyed this story immensely.

    This has been a really great process for me. I wanted to thank all of those that have read my story and given me such fantastic feedback. I appreciate your time and efforts. I figured I would give a little background on how and why I decided to participate.

     I had wanted to participate in the first WIM but was on a tight schedule. I had finished my novel's first draft and I had planned on employing Ms. Chapelle's services to help me make it great in August, once I finished my own revisions. That thing is over 120k words and needed serious help. Did I mention it was a tight schedule? Simply put I could not fit in another project. So I skipped WIM one.

     Then in the middle of revisions I found out my mom had stage four lung cancer. Everything came to a halt, especially my revisions. I live in Washington and my mom lived in Alabama, can't just drop by to check on her. Trips to and from there became a thing and as much as one might think a five hour plane ride would provide time to write, it really didn't. Not under those circumstances. Ms. Jeni was amazingly understanding and didn't hold me to the August deadline. I appreciate that Ms. Jeni.

     We lost mom in July, barely four months after diagnosis. I was devastated, couldn't focused. Haven't been able to focus for months when Writer in Motion two rolled around. I took the opportunity to shake things up and put my novel on the shelf.

     Now we are caught up to the process of Writer in Motion itself. It has been a great experience for me. Not only have I not shown much of my work to many people. So having somewhat random people see my work, was scary. It turned out to be okay and with the amazing help of Rebecca Fryar, Rebecca McWilliams, S.F. Roffey and Natalie Lockette even better. I figured I would break down each week.

     Week 1 draft:

     The prompt. I knew I wanted something snappy and short. I had the goal to make the writer feel the emotion through the intensity of movement. I think I accomplished that and several people gave the very 1st rendition positive reviews. Story came in at 423 words.

     Week 2 draft:

     I started tearing the story apart. I wanted to bring the reader closer to the character and with so little internal thoughts that was hard. So I thought about exploring the Father and his impact. I re-read this a dozen times and I felt okay about it but I knew it was only okay. Plus there was a pretty large plot hole. Maybe no one will notice.

    Week 3 draft:

     Plot hole identified by CP, darn. The other common comment here was that I relied too much on body parts and while it gave a good sensation by the third mention of the characters legs it became distracting. I grabbed the plot mortar to begin filling in the hole. Also mentioned was the lack of personal connection. So I took a dive into personal thoughts, trying to bring more the the character out.

     Week 4 draft:

    Hey look there is another plot hole, points one of my CP's. Rats! *drumming fingers* really? I stared at that hole for a bit before finally giving in and agreeing. Fixed final plot (I think), continue expanding the father and more of Carle. I really like the finish product though the word count ran a little long at 1014. I also feel like I lost the intensity that I captured in week one and two in those micro drafts. I think the story is more complete and better but I really want to revisit the intensity.

     Final:

     For the first time in months I feel I am ready to take my WIP back up and really put the effort in to finish. Not sure when I will finish it but I feel that I can finish it now. Thank you all for talking with me, helping me to be better. I appreciate it. If any of you need a reader in the future let me know and I will try to help when I can.

As my mom was fond of saying, 'Have a merry merry and a happy happy!'


Best Regards,

R. Pelham Hern

So Good!

This read so much better than the last. So much emotion. This is a great story.

I wanted to start by taking a moment to thank Ms. Rebecca McWilliams and Ms. S.M. Roffey for taking the time to do a second critique for me. I appreciate your advice and I have done my best to represent it here. The story ended up being just a smidgen over 1000 at 1007. I am okay with it though. I think it is a better story for it.

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     Carle's foot was greeted with pulses of agony as it connected with the old communications array. She jerked back clutching her foot, mouthing curses under her breath. Static blurred back at her, lost in its own nothing. The storm must have knocked out the antenna on the blasted thing. Again.

     She sat down, massaging her foot, making sure she hadn't broken anything. She should remember to raise her toes before she kicked things. At least hard things. She glanced up noticing a sheet of paper extending from the array. She ripped it lose, the message hadn't finished printing before the blasted thing stopped working.

   We'll be there by early light. She raised an eyebrow. No ships were due this week.

     She looked closer at the message. A flying cross adorned the top right corner. The symbol for the Captain of the Fleet. Her Father. She slumped back in her chair. He'd been top of his class, a zeppelin pilot able to navigate the fiercest winds. It's all in how you feel the wind. He'd say. People didn't get it, not even the other pilots but that's why he was the best. She smiled remembering his. Then the Emperor sent out a call and he answered to his duty. That was eleven years ago, she had been six.

     Carle crumpled the missive in her hand, lost in the memories of better times. Tears leaked from her eyes and fell to the page. She tried to wipe them away, only managing to rip it.

     She laughed aloud. Her father was coming home. He would swagger off that airship, give her a hug and rustle her hair. Still treating her like she was six, but she had grown up these last eleven years. He might even have to look up to her now. She caught a sob in the back of her throat.

     The clock on the wall blared, Carle rolled her eyes up to look. Early Light. That was now! She jumped to her feet, chair clattering on the floor.

     She dashed from the room, leaping the control desk. They would need her help with the array down. Her muscles began to burn as she ran down one empty hallway to the next. Her steps echoing off the walls. Down corridors lit by pooling light from caged lanterns.

     Her thoughts raced faster than she did. He hadn't been here for the plague, for the evacuation. He didn't know they'd been forced to abandon the town. Those that had survived. Mom, the others that they had left behind. No, no time for that now.

     Her hand caught a corner and slung herself down the final corridor before she could reach the landing grounds. A trunk sat just before the door. As she approached the trunk, she lowered herself to a knee sliding to a stop in front. She hefted the lid up, bright red letters greeted her. EMERGENCY ONLY! It said. Obviously this counted. They wouldn't be able to find their way home otherwise. She dug into the chest, throwing supplies over one shoulder then the next.

    "Big, yellow, plastic suit thing, get out of my way!" she murmured shoving it to the side.

     "Ah, HA!" she said as she brought a course grey tube from the bottom of the chest. Popping the lid, she caught the flare in her right hand before bursting out the door onto the grounds. The wing whipped strands of hair across her face as she searched the darkness of the morning sky. Where were they? The minutes ground by like frozen molasses. Blink. In the distance she saw the lights along the leading edge of the fleet.

     They were off course.

     The lead ship would be piloted by her father, she had to get him home. She rushed to the tower at the edge of the grounds. Round and round she ran, her breath coming hard her legs begging her to stop, but the adrenaline shouted down their protests. Rushing across the platform she struck the flare, arm holding the blinding light high. She wrapped her left arm around the center post and swung out over the field waving her arm desperately.

     The wind tore at her, driving her head down. It had always been her father's companion, she wouldn't let it betray him now, wouldn't let her arm fall. Specks of light caught the edge of her vision. She turned her head, the other scouts had seen her flare. They would help her guide them home.

     A smile crept across her face ranging ear to ear. Command had been right to her at this far flung outpost. She had proven them right. She drew a deep breath filled with pride.

     "WELCOME HOME PAPA!" she yelled against the protest of the betrayer winds.

     The wind grew bolder, stronger as it blew in defiance of her proclamation. She tightened her grip and leaned her head against the post. "Welcome home everyone." An eternity passed as she held on against nature itself.

     Pain shot up her arm, the flare sputtered. Tears wet her cheeks, she wouldn't let her arm fall. She let her eye rise to the edge of the valley, the sun had begun to crest the mountains. Darkness was being driven back by the light. The ships had corrected course. They were coming home.

     There were so many, she counted. Too many. She counted again. The weren't that many ships in the Emperor's fleet. This didn't make sense. She had received the message, seen the mark.

     They had adjusted their approach, the town had been sighted. Her home. Who were they? The ships began to turn, crossing the threshold of the town, broadside towards her. Blue and gold greeted her. NO! The Mage's Guild. SO MANY! Fully over the town the bombs began to fall, flames rose within a chorus of screams. Her fault! Her heart shattered. She sank to her knees, chin to her chest, hair covering her tears anew. It was all her fault! They all burned, her friends, her family. Soon her.

     "I'm sorry Papa." she whispered to the wind as the flames reached her.

This is my first time reading and I have so many questions....so many questions.....man that is an incredibly strong voice. I love this story and want more. I feel her trepidation, anguish and regret. I still got a little confused on who was who though. For a bit I thought M'Kree was mom. I am also a bit confused on how mom killed Da if she is off in another ocean. Many questions, but mostly I just want more. Very good story. Thank you for sharing.

A bug's life is a horror story isn't it?

I want more please.