It is sunny. It is happy. It makes me think of summer, which I miss. Good.
Any artists out there?
- Thread starter lilmillefleur
- Start date
- Thread starter
- #2,492
I usually post my writing on another thread, but I wanted to share this here!
It's an excerpt from Chapter 1 of the fantasy/science fiction novel I plan on writing! This is the third or fourth draft, but this time I wrote the beginning completely over from scratch because I wasn't happy with the other idea I used.
It's an excerpt from Chapter 1 of the fantasy/science fiction novel I plan on writing! This is the third or fourth draft, but this time I wrote the beginning completely over from scratch because I wasn't happy with the other idea I used.
Sam woke up with her face buried in bitterly cold snow. She hauled herself up onto her hands and blinked, finding herself still wearing her plain t-shirt and jogging pants.
There was hardly a dent in the snow around her where she could have skidded or rolled as if she had been thrown. In fact, there was nothing to suggest any sort of way she could have found herself like this--in the middle of a vast expanse of cold black sky and snowdrifts, with snowflakes falling like stars.
There were a few flakes on her eyelashes now, and a decent powder had already covered her back. With the snow falling this fast, it must have only been a few minutes since she had ended up here.
A sudden light cast a warm glow across the frozen field. Sam could see it was coming from some sort of torch. Perhaps she wasn’t alone out here after all. She shuddered from the freezing wind and stood up on shaky legs, brushing the snow from them with numb fingers.
Sam made her way towards the light, one painful step after another, the 5 or so inches of snow finding its way into her sneakers and chilling her socks.
Though still in an almost dreamlike unawareness, Sam began to recall from her memory what could have possibly brought her here...a weary woman with a tale of woe and a promise of fulfillment, perhaps.
She had first met the woman on a street corner near her house earlier that week, begging for money. “Please,” the woman had wept to the passers-by. “I’ve lost my daughter and my job. I have no money. Please help me.” Some had given a sympathetic glance, some a few dollars, but most of them simply quickened their pace, ashamed and unable to look the poor lady in the eye.
Sam had been feeling particularly generous that day, so she pulled the 20 dollar bill from her mobile phone’s case and dropped it at the woman’s feet. So what if she was just looking for drugs? It wasn’t like 20 dollars could save her life. Sam kept walking, but the woman had stopped when she saw Sam.
“You.” She pointed a finger. “Come here.” Sam dragged her feet back to where the woman was sitting. She frowned.
“Well, you sure look like you could use some cheering-up.” The woman’s smile had a genuine curve to it, but to Sam it felt almost sarcastically wicked. She grimaced even harder.
“Not having a good day, huh?” The woman’s eyes grew soft. “Me neither.”
Sam could tell that much. What did this lady want?
“Your mother.” The woman sighed. “I know her. Suki Hirota.”
“We are new to town,” Sam said cautiously.
“But we go way back,” the woman said. “I met you once, as a little girl.”
“You remind me of my daughter. She was very sick,” the woman continued. “This belonged to her. I think she’d want you to have it.” The woman pulled a small globe from her bag and handed it to Sam. Sam ran her fingers over the ball and saw that it was covered in tiny pinpricks that seemed to be without order or pattern.
“What is it?” Sam asked. “What are all these random holes?”
“Never assume anything is random, my dear.” The woman said. “I’ve found that sometimes the most deliberate choices aren’t formed in rows. Everything has a reason to be the way it is.”
The woman’s voice had haunted her all that evening, and even more so when Sam’s parents questioned her at dinner. She told them everything.
“That must be Emily Crane.” Sam’s father leaned forward in his chair.
“Her daughter drowned in a swimming pool a few months ago,” Sam’s mother continued. “And she’s recently lost her job.”
“Wasn’t she a neuroscientist?” said Sam’s father.
“Yeah. Anyway,” Sam’s mother said. “We were friends in high school. I haven’t talked to her in ages. We kind of...went our separate ways.” She scrunched her nose a bit into what almost seemed like a sneer.
“What did she do to lose her job?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure.” Sam’s mother pursed her lips. “She doesn’t say much online herself. Everything I hear is from other friends. Though she likes to lurk on my facebook profile. She's an awful creep.”
It wasn’t until a few days later that Sam had found herself on Mrs. Crane’s shoddy doorstep in the rain. Her father had told her that Mother was drunk and very angry, and Mrs. Crane was the only person they knew in town who could take care of Sam while her parents settled things out.
Mother had protested violently. "You can't trust that lady! She's insane!"
Father simply herded Sam into the car. He rolled his eyes, but Sam could practically smell his anxiety.
Sam was afraid, but was treated with hospitality and sent to a bedroom in the attic for the night. Nothing happened that was out of the ordinary. But when she had woken up, she found herself here. It was very cold. It felt very real.
When you are dreaming, you rarely realize you are, no matter how wild the scenario is. Whenever Sam found out she was dreaming, however, she could always control her surroundings like in a lucid dream. And she could wake up whenever she wanted.
If this really was a dream, Sam concluded, she would have been back in Mrs. Crane’s attic by now, probably shivering from a draft.
There was hardly a dent in the snow around her where she could have skidded or rolled as if she had been thrown. In fact, there was nothing to suggest any sort of way she could have found herself like this--in the middle of a vast expanse of cold black sky and snowdrifts, with snowflakes falling like stars.
There were a few flakes on her eyelashes now, and a decent powder had already covered her back. With the snow falling this fast, it must have only been a few minutes since she had ended up here.
A sudden light cast a warm glow across the frozen field. Sam could see it was coming from some sort of torch. Perhaps she wasn’t alone out here after all. She shuddered from the freezing wind and stood up on shaky legs, brushing the snow from them with numb fingers.
Sam made her way towards the light, one painful step after another, the 5 or so inches of snow finding its way into her sneakers and chilling her socks.
Though still in an almost dreamlike unawareness, Sam began to recall from her memory what could have possibly brought her here...a weary woman with a tale of woe and a promise of fulfillment, perhaps.
She had first met the woman on a street corner near her house earlier that week, begging for money. “Please,” the woman had wept to the passers-by. “I’ve lost my daughter and my job. I have no money. Please help me.” Some had given a sympathetic glance, some a few dollars, but most of them simply quickened their pace, ashamed and unable to look the poor lady in the eye.
Sam had been feeling particularly generous that day, so she pulled the 20 dollar bill from her mobile phone’s case and dropped it at the woman’s feet. So what if she was just looking for drugs? It wasn’t like 20 dollars could save her life. Sam kept walking, but the woman had stopped when she saw Sam.
“You.” She pointed a finger. “Come here.” Sam dragged her feet back to where the woman was sitting. She frowned.
“Well, you sure look like you could use some cheering-up.” The woman’s smile had a genuine curve to it, but to Sam it felt almost sarcastically wicked. She grimaced even harder.
“Not having a good day, huh?” The woman’s eyes grew soft. “Me neither.”
Sam could tell that much. What did this lady want?
“Your mother.” The woman sighed. “I know her. Suki Hirota.”
“We are new to town,” Sam said cautiously.
“But we go way back,” the woman said. “I met you once, as a little girl.”
“You remind me of my daughter. She was very sick,” the woman continued. “This belonged to her. I think she’d want you to have it.” The woman pulled a small globe from her bag and handed it to Sam. Sam ran her fingers over the ball and saw that it was covered in tiny pinpricks that seemed to be without order or pattern.
“What is it?” Sam asked. “What are all these random holes?”
“Never assume anything is random, my dear.” The woman said. “I’ve found that sometimes the most deliberate choices aren’t formed in rows. Everything has a reason to be the way it is.”
The woman’s voice had haunted her all that evening, and even more so when Sam’s parents questioned her at dinner. She told them everything.
“That must be Emily Crane.” Sam’s father leaned forward in his chair.
“Her daughter drowned in a swimming pool a few months ago,” Sam’s mother continued. “And she’s recently lost her job.”
“Wasn’t she a neuroscientist?” said Sam’s father.
“Yeah. Anyway,” Sam’s mother said. “We were friends in high school. I haven’t talked to her in ages. We kind of...went our separate ways.” She scrunched her nose a bit into what almost seemed like a sneer.
“What did she do to lose her job?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure.” Sam’s mother pursed her lips. “She doesn’t say much online herself. Everything I hear is from other friends. Though she likes to lurk on my facebook profile. She's an awful creep.”
It wasn’t until a few days later that Sam had found herself on Mrs. Crane’s shoddy doorstep in the rain. Her father had told her that Mother was drunk and very angry, and Mrs. Crane was the only person they knew in town who could take care of Sam while her parents settled things out.
Mother had protested violently. "You can't trust that lady! She's insane!"
Father simply herded Sam into the car. He rolled his eyes, but Sam could practically smell his anxiety.
Sam was afraid, but was treated with hospitality and sent to a bedroom in the attic for the night. Nothing happened that was out of the ordinary. But when she had woken up, she found herself here. It was very cold. It felt very real.
When you are dreaming, you rarely realize you are, no matter how wild the scenario is. Whenever Sam found out she was dreaming, however, she could always control her surroundings like in a lucid dream. And she could wake up whenever she wanted.
If this really was a dream, Sam concluded, she would have been back in Mrs. Crane’s attic by now, probably shivering from a draft.
Last edited:
Rude of her to say that. XD
Anyways, I like the start a lot better. You can visualize yourself in the character's shoes and see and feel and hear what she hears.
The thing that doesn't work... The transition to the story of Emily Crane confused me. I was like... wait, she's somewhere else now?
And then the transition to her porch step? Might do better in another chapter. Considering that it's weeks later confused me quite a lot.
- Thread starter
- #2,494
Yeah. I was having some trouble with that for sure. XD
I think I might break up the flashbacks a little bit and spread out this first part some more.
- Thread starter
- #2,495
Here's something with a background! *GASP!*
I am...really bad at drawing trees.
I am...really bad at drawing trees.
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OmnipotentOrpington
Songster
- Jun 29, 2020
- 695
- 2,432
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That lighting is incredible!! And the color is stunning. Good job!! Here's an OC ref I made!!
- Thread starter
- #2,497
cute lil warrior!!
I too, am horrible at trees. That dress! The background is marvelous! You are really great at potraying moods.
Little floof boof. Marvelous.
Kinmundy
Songster
- Feb 15, 2021
- 82
- 498
- 126
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- #2,500
I updated and improved my piece since I wasn't satisfied with it initially 
Now it's even more moody!!
It's meant to be a concept illustration or even a cover art thingie for that story which I am changing the name of AGAIN....jeez....this time I think?? I will stick with Reverie unless I come up with something better or more fitting
Now it's even more moody!!It's meant to be a concept illustration or even a cover art thingie for that story which I am changing the name of AGAIN....jeez....this time I think?? I will stick with Reverie unless I come up with something better or more fitting
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