I’m not dead, I swear! I was just on Spring Break but now really realized that I don’t exactly get to have breaks as an author. It’s work-work-work all the time! Well, sorta. I mean, I wouldn’t consider the chance to just write whatever the heck I want and babble about whatever comes to mind “work,” but let’s be honest, I’ve got novels and scripts to write (oh and papers and job proposals to write as well and huge books to read that I was somehow expected to do in a week and I’m all, “Yeah no but I guess I’ll try anyway,” (Me, 1) since in the very beginning) and if I’m here, well I can’t be there now can I?
I’ve tried to answer that rhetorical question with a realistic “yes” and have come up fruitless. I’m so fruitless I’m starting to develop scurvy.
Speaking of which, Garamoush’s second edition should be out soon. So that’s neat.
Title: Snow in June
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
The stump was my favourite place in the forest to sit. It was right in the middle of a little glade. No trees, just grass and sunlight. My brother sat next to me whenever we were there.
I held my hand out. A little bit of snow collected in my hand.
“Look Jim,” I said, smiling. “Snow in June.”
He looked up into the sky. He wasn’t smiling.
“Tommy,” he said through gasps, pointing towards our house.
Orange fingers of flames grasped at the sky. Clouds of white ash rose with them and fell with the wind into the glade.
It’s 3 o’clock again. The exact fateful time I have to ask myself, “I meant to go to bed earlier today and yet I’m still here. Still awake. Every time. This happens every time. And I never get to bed until 3. Seriously. Oh well better do a blog post.”
I feel like if I wrote out a list of my priorities it would run out of the door of my house and also be like the Hallway in House of Leaves. Meaning it would constantly shift, change, growl at me, and turn my friends into psychopathic monsters.
I love that book~
Good luck, you brave writer folk!