Last week, the fabulous Tameri Etherton tagged me in a little game us writers like to pass around called Lucky Seven. Really, it’s just a medium we use to goad each other into sharing snippets of what we’re currently working on. Writers (maybe it’s just me, but I’m inclined to think it’s a community disposition) are equal parts terrified and eager to share what we’ve written. It’s easier for us if it looks like a game.
Here are the rules to Lucky Seven:
1) Go to page 77 of current manuscript
2) Go to line 7
3) Post the next 7 paragraphs, lines, or sentences – writer’s choice.
Like a man trying to teach a poodle to fly, I’m tossing those rules right out the window.
I’ve already done the Lucky Seven with SHRILUGH (you can read it here), and I’m not ready to do it with the second book in the series, DARKENING. I have another story that’s as bare-bones as you can get, but those beginning stages of writing are precious to me – not easily given up for any eyes to see.
So, instead, I’m going to share with you a prophecy, and a song. The first is a thread in the SHRILUGH series, and the second is something I wrote to give an old drunk in the third book something to sing on his birthday. Will these make you want to read what I’m working on? I don’t know. But I sure had fun writing them.
PROPHECYThere stands a door in ancient trees; Not for weakened hands to reach. Yet some have passed in earlier days, When darkness reigned in evil ways. Abominations; Ancientborn; Those aged stories, all forlorn Will be retold with different names - But stories, themes, remain the same. Revenge’s sister Justice, sweet, Stands tall in her own courtroom, keeps A list of those who hold her dear, And those who falsely call to her While her dark sister whispers Evil nothings in their ears.
OVEDLEA MOUNTAIN DRINKING SONGOh! As I was a’goin’ o’er the Ovedlea Mountains I met a bonny lass, she was cryin’ like a fountain. I handed her my ‘kerchief, I let her snot my sleeve, And she produced a shiny blade and robbed me clean indeed! Oy! Hey-o, hey-o, she robbed me clean indeed! Oh! As I sat there bleedin’ on the Ovedlea Mountains Another bonny lass came and offered me a flagon. Parched was I, said ‘Thankya’, and drank the bitter mead, Swallowed too soon, realized too late, the bitch had poisoned me! Oy! Hey-o, hey-o, she poisoned me, indeed! Oh! As I lay there dyin’ on the Ovedlea Mountains, A maiden fair as evening came ridin’ on a stallion. She offered me elixir, if I would just concede, A nod of my head, a wave of her hand, she bought my soul indeed! A nod of my head, a wave of her hand, she bought my soul indeed! Oh! Now I spend my days wanderin’ Ovedlea Mountains, A soul-less bastard be I, man shriveled and man shrunken. A lesson learned not one time, not once, nor twice, but three, A maiden fair, a bonny lass, will be the death of me! Oy! Hey-o, hey-o, she’ll be the death of me! oOo
This is where I’m supposed to tag seven other writers. Since I’ve already broken all the rules, I’m gonna do it again. I’m tagging YOU! That’s right, yon reader. Do you have a manuscript in the works? I wanna see a snippet. If you want to participate, leave a link to your blog in the comments, along with the date you’re gonna run the post. I’ll pop by and read! Or, if you prefer, leave your excerpt in the comments here. Hey, I broke the rules. *shrug* You can, too. I won’t rat you out, promise.
Hey, if you’re interested in SHRILUGH, or the book that’s coming after it, DARKENING, go check out these Pinterest boards:
SHRILUGH, AS YOU SEE IT (this one’s put together by my beta-readers)