#nmsam — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #nmsam, aggregated by home.social.
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#ScribesAndMakers 25: Do you do any activism through your creative work?@solarbranka
#PoliticalPoetry
Below are links to a sampling. -
#ScribesAndMakers 25: Our featured creator does "a bit of educational activism on the side." Do you do any activism through your creative work?
- Queers living "normal" lives.
- Political poetry
- Occationally a character will go on a rant about #Polyamory or queer discrimination. (But it has to fit the plot.)
That is about it.
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#ScribesAndMakers 23. Have #FairyTales influenced any of your creative work? Part 2
Chapter 72: Yakubyō-gami (疫病神) of KonbiniIdol: is full of delusional fairy tale renders.
“Take the apple, dearie, and make a wish.”
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#ScribesAndMakers 23. Have #FairyTales influenced any of your creative work? Part 2
Chapter 72: Yakubyō-gami (疫病神) of KonbiniIdol: is full of delusional fairy tale renders.
“Take the apple, dearie, and make a wish.”
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#ScribesAndMakers 23. Have #FairyTales influenced any of your creative work? Part 2
Chapter 72: Yakubyō-gami (疫病神) of KonbiniIdol: is full of delusional fairy tale renders.
“Take the apple, dearie, and make a wish.”
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#ScribesAndMakers 23. Have #FairyTales influenced any of your creative work? Part 2
Chapter 72: Yakubyō-gami (疫病神) of KonbiniIdol: is full of delusional fairy tale renders.
“Take the apple, dearie, and make a wish.”
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#ScribesAndMakers 22 What fictional character do you find the creepiest? (Modified prompt) Part 2
Magagami-sama
Alt. Text edited for character count.
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#ScribesAndMakers 16. How do you feel about illustrations in (non-comic) books?
I write light novels, which by definition have illustrations. They are my biggest out-of-pocket expense.
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#ScribesAndMakers 16. How do you feel about illustrations in (non-comic) books?
I write light novels, which by definition have illustrations. They are my biggest out-of-pocket expense.
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#ScribesAndMakers 16. How do you feel about illustrations in (non-comic) books?
I write light novels, which by definition have illustrations. They are my biggest out-of-pocket expense.
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#ScribesAndMakers 16. How do you feel about illustrations in (non-comic) books?
I write light novels, which by definition have illustrations. They are my biggest out-of-pocket expense.
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#ScribesAndMakers 16. How do you feel about illustrations in (non-comic) books?
I write light novels, which by definition have illustrations. They are my biggest out-of-pocket expense.
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#ScribesAndMakers – 15th Apr. What's a smell that has featured in your work?
There are many smells featured in my work. Picking just one, a trademark of my work is that each LI has a unique scent, and when the narrator notices it, it's a sign that the romance arc is heating up. Shishi's from #KonbiniIdol were sandalwood and violets.
Bijou from #TimeTravelingGhost should soon be noticing Emily's scent. Perhaps gardenia or perhaps not.
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#ScribesAndMakers – 15th Apr. What's a smell that has featured in your work?
There are many smells featured in my work. Picking just one, a trademark of my work is that each LI has a unique scent, and when the narrator notices it, it's a sign that the romance arc is heating up. Shishi's from #KonbiniIdol were sandalwood and violets.
Bijou from #TimeTravelingGhost should soon be noticing Emily's scent. Perhaps gardenia or perhaps not.
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#ScribesAndMakers – 15th Apr. What's a smell that has featured in your work?
There are many smells featured in my work. Picking just one, a trademark of my work is that each LI has a unique scent, and when the narrator notices it, it's a sign that the romance arc is heating up. Shishi's from #KonbiniIdol were sandalwood and violets.
Bijou from #TimeTravelingGhost should soon be noticing Emily's scent. Perhaps gardenia or perhaps not.
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#ScribesAndMakers – 15th Apr. What's a smell that has featured in your work?
There are many smells featured in my work. Picking just one, a trademark of my work is that each LI has a unique scent, and when the narrator notices it, it's a sign that the romance arc is heating up. Shishi's from #KonbiniIdol were sandalwood and violets.
Bijou from #TimeTravelingGhost should soon be noticing Emily's scent. Perhaps gardenia or perhaps not.
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#ScribesAndMakers – 15th Apr. What's a smell that has featured in your work?
There are many smells featured in my work. Picking just one, a trademark of my work is that each LI has a unique scent, and when the narrator notices it, it's a sign that the romance arc is heating up. Shishi's from #KonbiniIdol were sandalwood and violets.
Bijou from #TimeTravelingGhost should soon be noticing Emily's scent. Perhaps gardenia or perhaps not.
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#ScribesAndMakers Apr 9: Our next featured creator is a professor. Does any of your work involve professors and/or universities?
Short answer: Yes
- #TheGirlWhoCouldSeeGhosts: The MCs are university students. The special university for people with high reikon/霊魂 is mentioned for the first time.
- #MyGirlfriend Almost Got Me Killed: Mikito-sensei (光尊) is introduced.
- #KonbiniIdol The special university and Mikito-sensei play an ongoing role. The MCs are not students anymore.
- #Airisu: The Ghost and the Witch: Airisu was a professional student. Otherwise no.
- Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost: Bijou was a professor of metaphysics. Arkam University is the only location so far the characters visit more than once.
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#ScribesAndMakers Apr 9: Our next featured creator is a professor. Does any of your work involve professors and/or universities?
Short answer: Yes
- #TheGirlWhoCouldSeeGhosts: The MCs are university students. The special university for people with high reikon/霊魂 is mentioned for the first time.
- #MyGirlfriend Almost Got Me Killed: Mikito-sensei (光尊) is introduced.
- #KonbiniIdol The special university and Mikito-sensei play an ongoing role. The MCs are not students anymore.
- #Airisu: The Ghost and the Witch: Airisu was a professional student. Otherwise no.
- Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost: Bijou was a professor of metaphysics. Arkam University is the only location so far the characters visit more than once.
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#ScribesAndMakers Apr 9: Our next featured creator is a professor. Does any of your work involve professors and/or universities?
Short answer: Yes
- #TheGirlWhoCouldSeeGhosts: The MCs are university students. The special university for people with high reikon/霊魂 is mentioned for the first time.
- #MyGirlfriend Almost Got Me Killed: Mikito-sensei (光尊) is introduced.
- #KonbiniIdol The special university and Mikito-sensei play an ongoing role. The MCs are not students anymore.
- #Airisu: The Ghost and the Witch: Airisu was a professional student. Otherwise no.
- Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost: Bijou was a professor of metaphysics. Arkam University is the only location so far the characters visit more than once.
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#ScribesAndMakers – 6 Some people have creative work inspired by their dreams. Have you?
All of the following scenes from #KonbiniIdol were inspired by dreams. As a surreal author, dreams are an important inspiration.
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#ScribesAndMakers 29 griddle #MastoPrompt clang
#Clang! The #griddle hit the fire pit grate.
"What you making? "
"Fufu cakes."
"Yum!"
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #NMPrompts #NMSAM #Food #SliceOfLife
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#ScribesAndMakers 3.23 — Do you consider yourself a frood who knows where their towel is? #MastoPrompt #kick
The rock troll kicked the chef out and growled, “Give me my trowel! We have a roast beast tonight.”
“Eek, I’m a frood, sir, not roast beast!”
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#ScribesAndMakers 21 What everyday object would you photograph as if it were art?
More recent example. An attempt to contrast the #daffodils with the corroded #firehydrant.
#NMSAM #NMPrompts
#Photography
#マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #NMPhoto #Seattle #UrbanLife #Bloomscrolling #Spring #Seattle #UrbanLife #FlowerViewing #花見 -
#ScribesAndMakers 21 What everyday object would you photograph as if it were art?
If they seem to have artistic merit. Flowers, food, Junk/ruins/decay, crows are non-exclusively often subjects of my photography.
Taken last fall
#NMSAM #NMPrompts
#Photography
#マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #NMPhoto #Seattle #UrbanLife
#poetry #詩 #Haiga #俳画 #NMPoetry #ものく #Monoku -
#ScribesAndMakers 21 What everyday object would you photograph as if it were art?
If they seem to have artistic merit. Flowers, food, Junk/ruins/decay, crows are non-exclusively often subjects of my photography.
Taken last fall
#NMSAM #NMPrompts
#Photography
#マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #NMPhoto #Seattle #UrbanLife
#poetry #詩 #Haiga #俳画 #NMPoetry #ものく #Monoku -
#ScribesAndMakers 21 What everyday object would you photograph as if it were art?
If they seem to have artistic merit. Flowers, food, Junk/ruins/decay, crows are non-exclusively often subjects of my photography.
Taken last fall
#NMSAM #NMPrompts
#Photography
#マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #NMPhoto #Seattle #UrbanLife
#poetry #詩 #Haiga #俳画 #NMPoetry #ものく #Monoku -
#ScribesAndMakers 21 What everyday object would you photograph as if it were art?
If they seem to have artistic merit. Flowers, food, Junk/ruins/decay, crows are non-exclusively often subjects of my photography.
Taken last fall
#NMSAM #NMPrompts
#Photography
#マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #NMPhoto #Seattle #UrbanLife
#poetry #詩 #Haiga #俳画 #NMPoetry #ものく #Monoku -
#ScribesAndMakers 21 What everyday object would you photograph as if it were art?
If they seem to have artistic merit. Flowers, food, Junk/ruins/decay, crows are non-exclusively often subjects of my photography.
Taken last fall
#NMSAM #NMPrompts
#Photography
#マストドン写真部 #写真
#urbanphotography #NMPhoto #Seattle #UrbanLife
#poetry #詩 #Haiga #俳画 #NMPoetry #ものく #Monoku -
#ScribesAndMakers If your creative work could speak, what would it say about you?
And what's this with the poetry in your stories? It started as quoted song lyrics, and now there are whole chapters where characters exchange renga and kkatauta. Yes, I know the #Heian and #Edo periods, and the narrator explains it, but do you think readers want this level of realism?
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#WritersCoffeeClub ~ How well did this short month go for you, in terms of writing?
#ScribesAndMakers ~ How did your month go?
- #KonginiIdol is being uploaded EP by EP. It's all writing. So I've been a bit at loose ends, writing flash and working on two "new" novels.
- "#Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost," an Edgar Rice Burroughs X Jack Vance style pulp. I have mixed feelings about it. 20K is written. I need to do another polishing and adaptation pass for broader release. And I need #BetaReaders.
- "#Airiusi: The Crow and the Witch." A Tanith Lee-style Mythpunk story. 5K written. The early release is getting favorable remarks. The main narrator is a #Crows, which is both fun and challenging to write.
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: This One is Just Right
-> #Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt #TimeTravelAuthors 25. Midnight?Above me towered the bronze statue of Peter the Great, snow clinging to his horse’s back. In the background, the voices of a choir rose, drowning out the sound of machine gunfire.
I stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was time for a change
I killed the Czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vainThe cacophony was so loud that I almost missed the voice saying, “Папа, папа.” If it hadn’t been for the tone, I would’ve missed it. Claire was calling me.
I tried to turn toward her but realized that I couldn’t move. It was like sleep paralysis, where everything was frozen except my eyes. When I squinted to the side, I looked out over a sparkling white field, like a #park or city plaza. It was a flat expanse cut in half by a glass plane that curved overhead. Through it towered the distorted shape of a can of red bean soup. Beyond that, I could see the inside of the cabin facing the bedroom. Floating above it all was Claire’s distorted, terrified face.
Somewhere, a clock tolled the hour. Claire turned and walked toward the bedroom. The choir fell #silent, and the gunfire faded and vanished. Each booming chime broke the silence, stirring the snow. Large flakes drifted down, dislodged from the statue above.
In the bedroom, three shadows danced in the air like smoke from a plague pyre.
“This noose is too big.”
“No!” I silently screamed, struggling to move.
“This noose is too sloppy.”
Peter the Great grinned down at me, his once solemn face now leering. It was a twisted smile that all but laughed.
The clock struck midnight.
“But this noose is just right.”
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- #WordWeavers 23 first and last MC dialogue
- #ScribesAndMakers 23 pigeon drive the train?
First: “You shouldn’t,” I replied. “That’s a graveyard, and she’s dead.”
Last ** Snip #WIP #RoughDraft KonbiniIdol**
The train doors opened with a hiss, and we stepped inside. Underfoot, cicada corpses crunched. They were scattered around the door like Christmas snow the wind had blown in. The seats were empty except for items passengers might have left behind: a girl’s sailor suit, a briefcase, and an elf’s hat.
I pointed to one of the seats in the front. In it sat a pigeon, pecking at a cicada. Next to it was a Western-style conductor’s hat.
"At least one of them isn't driving," Shishi said.
"I wouldn't be so sure," I replied.
End Snip
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13 #WordWeavers 12/14: injuries“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13 #WordWeavers 12/14: injuries“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13 #WordWeavers 12/14: injuries“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: And This One is Too Cold
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/14 #TimeTravelAuthors 12/13“We need to get out of here!” I yelled as soon as I had recovered from seeing my wife burned at the stake.
“We can’t leave her,” Claire sobbed. But I knew my duty and what Rebecca would have wanted. That was to get our daughter to safety. I could return here with a priest or a medium or someone else—anyone—to see if we could recall Rebecca.
I grabbed Claire and dragged her to the door. She kicked and screamed. Her nails tore at my hands, but I held on. Finally, she broke free when I tried to open the cabin door.
For a second, I was paralyzed, torn between opening the door and catching her again. Then, there was a #popping noise, and I felt a sharp pain run down my back. Only after I’d hit the floor did I realize what had happened. I had thrown out my back while trying to do both.
It was an old injury, but when it went out, I couldn’t move for weeks.
Paralyzed, I watched Claire run to the bedroom, screaming her mother’s name. “Rebecca! Mommy!
Then silence fell.
“Claire, honey. Help me.” I called. “We need to get out of here so we can bring someone back to rescue Mom.” I wasn’t #optimistic, though. Laying her soul to rest was probably the best we could do.
I waited, #hoping I’d convinced Claire.
“Okay,” she replied, coming out of the bedroom. Sparkling white gems dangled from the torn fabric of her white dress. The words “Anastasia screamed in vain” came to me from somewhere.
I shivered when she spoke again, in a #faraway, forlorn voice: “They came for them. Мама, папа.”
Slowly, her eyes focused.
“I’ll help you, папа,” she continued, her voice still dreamy.
She re-entered the bedroom, where I could see her next to a chest of drawers. When she pulled out the first drawer, she dumped it out. Clothes, a length of rope, and other odds clattered to the floor.
“This one is too messy,” she chanted. I heard the next drawer and chant, “And this one is too empty.”
Finally, she opened the bottom drawer and took something out.
“And this one is so cute. The Santa looks just like you, папа.”
She held a snow globe depicting Santa in a town square. In the background, a palace stood amid snowdrifts. When she shook it, snow flew—dazzling, blinding, a sheet that obscured the room.
She repeated, “Just like you.”
The snow brushed my face. In the background, I heard a horse scream and a gunshot.
3/4
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Whatever
#ScribesAndMakers 12/2
“Read us another story!” Grandpa Charlie’s three grandchildren demanded.
"Whatever," he said, waving a hand at the bookshelf. His tone made it clear that he was bored and wanted to take a nap. Three stories should be enough. But grandkids are grandkids, and there would be no napping until they left with their dad.
The oldest, Nancy, brought over an old, green book. Its cover was faded, and the cloth over the torn binding exposed the spine below. “What’s this, Granddad?”
“That was your mother’s when she was a little girl. He ran his finger over the nearly vanished gold-lettered title, ‘The Big Book of Stories.’” His tone had softened, and he gently opened the book to a random page.
A red poinsettia leaf pressed into a homemade bookmark drifted out. Written in a childlike hand was “To Dad.”
The bookmark settled in his lap, followed by a gentle tear.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMSAM #NMFic #NMPrompts #PIXIVCharitySanta
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: This On is too Hot: Part 2
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss633 #MastopromptClair meanwhile, had drifted to the bookshelf. “They’re bound funny,” she called over to us.
“It’s just leather,” Rebecca said. Her face was red from blowing on the fire, but it was going now and had begun to warm the room.
“No, they’re icky, all crinkly to the touch and slimy. They make you feel weird.”
“Then don’t touch them,” I said.
“But they’re interesting,” Clair replied.
I shrugged and turned to Rebecca, saying, “She’s our daughter, all right.” Rebecca nodded.
“This book is too hard, but you might like this one.” Clair handed me a thick book. On the spine was written “Das Kapital. Kritik der Politischen Ökonomie.”
Clair was right; it made you feel funny: sad, like you were listening to someone crying. For a moment, I thought I heard someone shouting in Russian, followed by a scream.
“And this one is too simple,” Anastasia said, waking me from my daydream. She handed a copy of “Lang’s Blue Fairy Tales” to Rebecca.
I blinked; the room was fuzzy. “Anastasia?” That wasn’t right. I meant Clair. That was my daughter’s name.
Puzzled at my confusion, I watched her walk to the bookshelf again. Her white dress sparkled in the firelight.
She took out a third book. “#Dope! This one is just right,” she said in an odd voice: distant and sinister. She was holding a copy of “Ivanhoe Continued: The Burning of Rebecca.”
“Ah,” Rebecca gasped. I turned, expecting her to object to the “Goldilocks” game again, only she wasn’t there. All that was there was the wall, stove, and blaze in the fireplace, all seen as if in a distorted mirror.
“Mom?” Claire said and walked past me—diamonds draped her snow-white dress—she stopped at the fireplace, gazing at the blaze, which was going nicely, making the air smell faintly of pine smoke. Then I choked as a whiff of burned meat reached me.
Clair screamed, “Mom!” and pointed to the fire.
Wreathed in fire was the image of the woman I loved tied to a stake. The flames licked around her. You could all but her screams. Rebecca. Our Rebecca was there. Ivanhoe’s Rebecca. A witch burning for our sins.
2/4
#TootFic #MicroFiction #Serial #NMFic #NMV366 #NMSAM #Ivanhoe
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#Goldilocks and Three Grim Fates: This On is too Hot: Part 1
#Mythpunk #Horror
#Wss633 #MastopromptRebecca closed the cabin door, shutting out the winter wind and snow that blew in. Our breath hung in clouds in the still, cold air of the room. We might be trespassing, but it was better than sitting in our stalled car.
I called out again, “Anyone home? Sorry for intruding, but our car broke down, and it’s freezing.”
Again, there was no response. The owners had probably gone to town to avoid the blizzard that was in the forecast.
We really shouldn’t have been on the road, but Grandma had grown tired of us and had hinted, “Thanksgiving is over. Wouldn’t you prefer sleeping in your own beds?”
My girlfriend moved past me to the fireplace. “I’ll light a fire. Why don’t you see if there’s food? We can leave money on the table when we leave to pay for any inconvenience.”
Clair had already begun exploring and called from the door at the far side of the room. “It’s a bedroom with three beds: one big, one small, and one in between. This one is too…”
“Don’t say it,” Rebecca called to her. I wasn’t sure why the joke bothered her so much, but it did. Rebecca had always been the stricter of the two of us and got peeved if I interfered, so I kept silent.
While the two did their thing, I began looking for food. The can on the table proved to be red bean soup made by a Japanese company. I’d always thought a sweet bean drink was weird, but I guessed it was popular. It was funny finding it here in the middle of the Bitterroot Mountains, and I wondered if the owners were Japanese.
A cupboard next to the stove proved more fruitful. There was some cup ramen, tins of diced tomatoes, a package of sun-dried #prunes, and a couple of kilos of rice.
Part 2 in the next post
#TootFic #MicroFiction #Serial #NMFic #NMV366 #NMSAM #Ivanhoe
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#ScribesAndMakers 1 What creative projects do you hope to work on this month?
Konbini Idol, of course. But I also hope to produce at least 15 stories for #PIXIVCharitySanta, beating my previous record of 14.
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#ScribesAndMakers 2025.11.30 — How did your creativity go this month?
Given I was gone about half the month, it went well. Most of my serial reserve is used up, so I need to get busy. Also, #PIXIVCharitySanta has started, so I want to crank out stories for it.
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5. Pigeon Moon 鳩の月
#FanFiction #TheApothecaryDiaries
#wss366 #MastoPrompt #ScribesAndMakersSatisfied that she had learned all she could about the assassin, Mao waved Basen away. "Send Tinkle in," she said. "And don't come back until you are called. If you hear something, pretend you didn't. You don't want to be here."
Crag-like furrows reappeared on Basen’s forehead. Mao held her breath. It really was better for him not to be there. He might try to stop her, and the emperor would hold him accountable if something went wrong.
Basen pulled a face as if he had swallowed vinegar and said, “Guess that makes me the fourth monkey. Blind, deaf, dumb… and Basen, none the wiser.”
Mao just blinked. Was he trying to be funny at a time like this?
Basen glanced over at Jinshi, shook his head, and muttered, “Tiss #folly.”
As he left, candlelight #shone on Basen’s face, highlighting #pigeon-gray strands among his black hair. "Serving a master like Jinshi must be hard," she thought. "And today will earn him a few more."
Continued next week in Bleeding Moon 出血月
#MicroFiction #TootFic #Serial #NMV366 #NMSAM
#ApothecaryDiaries -
Divine Word
#Mastoprompt #Mss633 #ScribesAndMakers
The High Lord Rath nar Airith fasted for three days, drinking only thrice-blessed holy water from the sacred Dryad's Spring. He finished his prayers and lit incense as the eastern hills #shone rose and pink with Airith's holy light.
As Airith's head peaked above Mount Umidor, the gateway to the underworld on this most sacred day, God's #pigeon appeared out of the glow and lit upon the sill. The king took a missive from its beak and read, "#Folly."
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#ScribesAndMakers Sep 4: Talk about the book that got the fewest votes yesterday, or say something about them all.
#BloomIntoYou: #RegardingSaekiSayaka
#LightNovel by Iruma Hitoma
English publication #SevenSeasEntertainment“Regarding Saeki Sayaka,” is a three-volume collaboration between Iruma Hitoma, of “Adachi to Shimamura” fame, and Nio Nakatani, of “Bloom into You” fame. It is the story of the girl who loses out on love in the classic #Yuri series “Bloom into You.” “Regarding Saeki Sayaka" chronicles her journey as a girl and young woman, her first encounters with sapphic love, her rejection by her high school love Touko, and finally finding love in her second year of university.
This is not a coming-out story, nor does it wallow in “lesbian angst.” It is a story of her early life. It is considered by many to be Hitoma-sensei's best work, featuring characters with depth, realistic struggles, heartbreak, and ultimately, love.
A heartwarming story of the girl who lost out.
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#ScribesAndMakers 8/23. How many pixies can fit on the end of a paintbrush? Does it matter which end? 2/2
As has been pointed out to me by a very clever and observant philosopher, all of them can fit on all sides at once and still total ZERO pixies.
It's a zero-sum game.
Don't shoot me for calling you a philosopher. I am sure you are a very grounded, earthy philosopher.
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#ScribesAndMakers 20: Fave show cancelled without full story?
I read the manga and the spin off novels.
Like I said, this is normal with anime. A second season is a blessing. A third a miracle. A fourth involves the intervention of a Kami.
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#ScribesAndMakers 31 yellow
#WritersCoffeeClub 28. How do you write sensory experiences that fall beyond the usual five? Give an example. (Kinetic, UV, emotive, and demonic hunger)<Snip #WIP #RoughDraft >
The human emotions helped me refocus, and I looked out. At first, all I saw was a blur of sand #yellow, but then streaks of motion. Three gecko soldiers were running, and then they were gone. Some monstrous, unearthly purple thing swallowed them. A violet cloud floated up from where the geckos had been. My eyes locked onto it. “Warm. Good.” A hunger I had no name for eased.Then the violet haze vanished. “More.”
My eyes — eyes of the frog — followed the shapeless monster as it swooped across the yellow toward…
“Tsuchigumo, youkai purse spider,” I supplied a name. The frog had no names for these things, only fear and joy. The latter surged as the formless purple thing swallowed the Tsuchigumo. “Good, More, Good,” and feed the violet hunger.
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A Journal of the Plague Year
Historical novel by Daniel Defoe
First published 1722Unlike the massive volume of Robinson Crusoe, AJOFPY is a length accessible to the modern reader. It tells of the author’s experiences during the Great Visitation of 1665, when bubonic plague struck the city of London. A grim picture of life during an epidemic and the gamble the right is taking with our lives.
Defoe was a brilliant writer, one of the first people to write proto-novels in the West. The book doesn’t read like a journalist exposé but as a story set in one of the worst of times.
And no need to pay Amazon for the privilege of reading it. https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/376
#ScribesAndMakers 07/26
#Review #Books #HistoricalNovel #Pandemic #DanielDefoe #AJournalOfThePlagueYear
#NMSAM #NMPrompts -
#ScribesAndMakers Jul 17: Tell us about a book you like despite its cover (don't show the cover yet.)
I can't think of a single book I read, despite the cover. I have read a few because of the cover, not the reverse.
Maybe because I search for books by keywords, not by covers. When choosing from my list of maybe read and all other things being equal, I may select by a cover or title.