The X(cerpt) Files

[Ceara]

Probably got myself another day of being airborne... and I often don't write in a linear kinda way... But I thought this was something I could be proud of.  That said, I'm delirious from staring at the scene in general, so flame me if you wish.

Again, the plane pitches hard to the left, and what's left of the overhead luggage spills into seats and aisles.  To my right, a peach of a college lass steals a glance out the window at the vibrating wingtips, and digging fiercely into our armrest says, "I'm too young to die."

On my left, a likely grandmother hears the sweet peach’s plea and softly says, "Honey, I was just about to say the same thing."

Flight expected to land sometime tomorrow.

Audal, just have to tell you, I love this. The only thing I think is, it would be better if you put it in past tense instead of present.  Ceara

[audal]

OK, so... Mostly I'm throwing a potential new excerpt up there because I knew no other way to thank Ceara (who boldly strolled into the thread without her own excerpt > hint, hint) for her kind comment.  Unfortunately, I am utterly unable to write in a past tense narrative.  Don't know why that is.  From time to time, I'm OK when referring to a scene in the past, but ultimately my past tense work never sounds right to me.

Anyway... Ceara, this is just to say thank you so much for the praise... Nice to hear.

And to my X-cerpt co-conspiritors Miss J & Elkette -- More quality work.  Speaks well of you both that you're FAR from my personal reading list yet still accessible and flowing, flowing, flowing.

Potential excerpt below... written for a chapter several chapters ahead of where I'm actually located right now.

Remember, folks... The Tavern & The Cafe need your contributions!  Can I please get a "Prohibition Sucks" smiley?

Funny thing about a grudge...  Holding onto it over the long haul requires an intense maintenance of its initial wrath.  You need to regularly remind yourself of just how much you hate.  But when you leave the target of your hatred in the dust, unless you’re keen on screaming at windows and walls, the steady upkeep of a grudge is a futile exercise.  So you compartmentalize the ill will and allow the rest of your life to divide and conquer you.  Love, career, health, recreation - these are the seeds of a new and improved you.  Focus on the present and you can fool yourself into thinking you've erased the past. Isn't it that easy?  Just redistribute your energies to face the immediate, and maybe every now and then you’ll think, “Oh, that’s right, I forgot to hate my past today.” 

Funny how when you then try to embrace this emotion, it quickly gets boring.

[justwrite]

Hey, Audal...a little bitter mixed with wry, shaken not stirred. Your own special brand. You rock, dude! Nicely done.

And now, without further adieu:

“Dude! Look’s like it’s your lucky day. Just so happens I work in that gas station over there, and I’m going to fix you up for free. Hop in.”

Rahmed climbed behind the driver’s side and Mateo the passenger side. Mateo’s chest tightened. He considered calling Ray to bail him out but that would only earn him a beating later at Tío’s hands.

In the truck, Rahmed’s smile vanished. He spoke in a low whisper, his dark eyes boring into Mateo.

“You don’t tell my sister you saw me today- - I don’t tell your uncle you screwed up his truck. I’ll even help you with the delivery.”

Rahmed paused. Mateo stared.

“You speak ingles, dude, don’t you? You good with that?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
“Shake on it then.”

Mateo offered his hand and Rahmed squeezed his fingers together in a too firm grip. A smile spread across his thin lips. He held onto Mateo’s hand for an uncomfortably long moment.

“Maybe you and me could, ah, meet up sometime, huh?”
“Huh?”
“Have a drink down by the pier, you know?”
“Sure, uh, maybe.”

[Miss Java]

Hey JW.  I really like this excerpt. Lots of great tension written in.

“I have brought you all here today to discuss the further retrieval of the stones,” Emery said as the group trickled into silence. “From our recent experience, we can be certain that the stones of Brim have restored our true Shay powers. Certainly those of you with Healing and Speed are feeling quite anxious to get your turn.”

A murmur dribbled through the crowd and Emery allowed it to persist for a moment. The crowd finally died back down and stared intently back at their leader; however, Nolan’s eyes were fixed on something far more surreal. 
   
Greer, the Guardian, maneuvered through the group, his massive form mingling amongst the crowd as if he belonged. No one paid him any notice.  Those who did only smiled and nodded as if he were one of them. Nolan pressed his eyes closed and shook his head. When he opened his eyes again, the Guardian was gone.
   
“Are there any questions?” Emery asked. 
   
Several hands shot up into the air.
   
Nolan dared not to blink as he searched through the crowd for the Guardian to reappear. But there was nothing now, except for the familiar faces of the villagers. He relaxed. Perhaps it was just his imagination. Or more likely: He was just going insane.

[Miss Java]

Wow!  A writing board where no one actually WRITES!!!

Geesh!


Well, here is a new one from me.  Anyone want to join me?  It's lonely on this thread.

Within the hour, King Alcandor’s throne room had filled with every upper and lower officer in the Rol’dan. Kael walked along the ranks--a motley group at best--and gave them a compulsory inspection.  It was all for show, of course. He had to maintain his position of authority. But even with his glorified rank, a Lieutenant shot him a dirty look. 

The whole lot of them had been turning quite unpleasant lately; their tempers and outbursts had been inexcusable, and fights were happening continually.  Luckily no one had died…yet. Especially since the healers were nowhere near their full potential right now.

He looked past the disrespectful Lieutenant (he would deal with him later) and down the row of Healing Rol’dan.  Captain Tiohan, the oldest Rol’dan in the army, pressed his fingertips into his temples as his forehead crinkled into a frown. 
   
Kael snorted. This one was the most foul tempered of them all.

[elknutswife]

Okay Miss J, I'm only posting this because the rules say I have to if I want to say anything about anyone else's stuff.  Plus, I feel bad that no one has posted in awhile.     I've enjoy reading your excerpts, but really, I just didn't want you to be lonely anymore.     So, here you go, a helping of my new historical romance (btw, am I the only one of my genre in this motley group of ours?)


Nicola had been watching him all evening.  The way his coat hugged his shoulders when he bowed over his partner’s hand; the way his mouth curved as he smiled; the mischievous twinkle in his pale blue eyes as he laughed; the way the candlelight reflected the golden highlights in his wavy, blonde hair.  She was in love, she knew it. 
   â€œNikki!”  Her reverie was interrupted by the sudden sound of her name, and Nicola blinked in surprise as her great-aunt came into her line of sight.
   â€œThere you are, my girl.  I’ve been searching all over for you.  Now, I’d like to introduce you to someone,” her aunt said, gesturing to the pretty red-headed girl she had in tow.  “Lady Sarah Manston, I’d like to present my great-niece, Lady Nicola Lambert.  She’s come to live with me since the death of her sainted parents.  Nikki dear, Lady Sarah is also one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.  I thought you two could get to know one another.  Lady Sarah has been at court for a few months now, and can help familiarize you with your duties.”
   Nicola smiled at Sarah, who promptly seized Nicola’s hands and kissed her on both cheeks.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Nicola.  Your aunt has told me so much about you.  I think we will be great friends,” Sarah gushed, smiling warmly.
   Nicola immediately felt at ease with the bubbly girl, and her smile brightened considerably.
   â€œYou are very kind,” Nicola responded, eagerly.  “Please, call me Nikki.”
   â€œAh, there you see.  Friends already,” Aunt Helen said, pleased at her success in finding her niece a companion.  “Now girls, if you’ll excuse me, Countess Hartley has just arrived, and I’ve something particular I’ve been meaning to tell her.”
   Nicola and Sarah giggled as Aunt Helen bustled off, intent on her new gossip session, but Nicola instantly sobered as the handsome nobleman again danced into her view, this time expertly twirling a strikingly beautiful young woman dressed in fiery red satin.

[Lotheus]

The bladder that had only moments ago threatened to mutiny in his pants was now cowering deep within his pelvis like a hamster in a cage shrinking from a reaching hand.

That made me smile.

[audal]

Though I fear my once promising thread may get buried in the community fiction section by the ever popular five-word thread, I nevertheless was inspired by Loth's resurrection of the thread & show up today with a simple splinter of the WIP.  And for those of you who remember a recent question I posed about the speculative future tense of a daydream - this comes from that.

Here I would be unable to continue, for it was at that exact moment when I fully understood that the four of us would probably never share the same airspace again, let alone a stage.  Almost twenty years ago, the realization that even inseparables could separate in the swift stroke of a year effectively capsized my entire belief system.  All the things that a child believes infinite – family and friendships, invincibility and innocence – how quickly all we cherish can shatter.  And how enduring the debris left behind.

[kaybounds]

Hey Aud I just found this thread. So here goes.



As the door swung open, Rex welcomed the rank smell that rose from beneath him. He slowly walked down the basement steps, each one creaking as his two hundred pounds pressed against them. The room was dimly lit by one bulb in the far corner. He could see just fine though.
Rex crossed the room to where the mattress was lying. The girl had woke up and tried to move because the wires binding her were now cutting of the circulation to her hands and feet. We can't have that Rex thought to himself. So he knelt down beside her to adjust the bindings, as he did another sweet smell tickled his nostrils. God he loved the smell of blood, he savored it. The girl woke again as he was beside her.

[audal]

Poor sleepy neglected thread...

Okay... If only to prove to myself that I'm making at least SOME progress, I'm gonna lock this into the cyber-ether forever!

Lying here at why-the-Christ-am-I-awake o’clock, I overanalyze today’s most baffling moment until I invent an explanation that fits.  While we were busy ransacking the garage, I came across a rat-ravaged box labeled “Carolyn’s Scrapbooks,” and felt sure it belonged in the pile bound for the city dump.  Dad spotted me moving the box to the trash heap and barked, “What the hell are you doing throwing that away?”  Given that he’s been badmouthing Mom for the better part twenty years, I told him what was in this box, so sure was I that he’d support my decision once he understood. 

“I know what’s inside,” he snapped back, “and it’s not trash.”

Now I think I see why he pounced on me.  While I’ve been busy glamorizing my history, Dad merely embraces the facts of his own, however sour they may be.  Every cut, every scratch, every bruise; each is as much of an emblem of the efforts we’ve put forth as they are a reminder of our failures.  Yet no matter how we mold our memories to suit a situation, the prevailing truth is this.  We can neither erase the cruelties we’ve weathered or reclaim the thrills we’ve savored, and the only way to accept both who we’ve been and who are we now rests in our capacity to simultaneously let go and hold on.

I am starting to realize that this crusade is about ensuring we choose the path that makes our fate and doesn’t just find it.

Tomorrow I will wake up and no doubt analyze tonight’s radical analysis.  I will probably also conclude that my conclusions are all wrong, but isn’t that the very point of the path? 

Isn’t reinvention just a more flashy word for adaptation?

[Chelc]

woah. this thread still exits!?!

I don't even remember how it works...what are the rules? have I already broken them? 

[audal]

Ah, whatever.  This thread died under rules, so maybe we should just get rid of 'em, eh?

Oh - funny - when I went to post, I had a red font warning that this thread had been inactive for 120 days, and was i sure that I didn't want to start a new thread.

Seems the forum is copping an attitude, huh?

[Chelc]

omg! the site does that?! I have to go test this...

[sarahjen]

No Aud, don't get rid of the rules. i just found this thread and love the writing. You're great. It's fun. I haven't read much from you, since you've been Global Moterator since I joined.
Elkie, your scary story probably didn't have the affect on me you wanted. See I thought, "Yea, a man's arms." But then again, if you've read my other post on other threads, that's often where my mind goes.

Okay here's a bit from WIP NIGHT VISION: she's watching a "friendly" game of football.

Watching men running around hitting each other seemed barbaric. I quickly found myself lost in another time, a time when men fought to stay alive. I transformed the scene to a large Cathedral. A throne worthy for a king sat to my right and people encompassed me. The men wore skirts of leather, lashed together with metal spikes. Their brawny chests glistened in the sun, reflecting rainbows from their copper skin.
One particular slave held my attention. His brown curly hair and cobalt blue eyes met mine. “Who is he?” I asked the jester at my feet.
“He is an Earth Walker, My Lady.”
“What is an Earth Walker?” My eyes never wondered of his god-like stature.
“They roam the earth searching for evil beings to send back to the underworld.
I smiled to myself. Sometimes, I loved my imagination.
“Why is he here?” I returned to my daydream.
“He’s an adulterer My Lady.”
Intrigued, I asked, “How was he caught?”
“In the act My Lady.”
“Bring him to me,” I beckoned.
As this Earth Walker was summoned, someone yelled, “Watch out!” and a brown pig’s skin came hurling towards my chest. I threw up my hands, but totally missed the ball. It nailed me in the breast. I double over in pain, the wind knocked out of me.

[elknutswife]

Elkie, your scary story probably didn't have the affect on me you wanted. See I thought, "Yea, a man's arms." But then again, if you've read my other post on other threads, that's often where my mind goes.

LOL yeah, the manuscript (and this scene in particular) have gone through a lot of revisions since I posted it - and actually it's okay that you automatically think of a man's arms because she knows a person is grabbing her, just not who...    In fact, I can't even remember what version I posted, I'll have to go back and read it real quick so I know what you are talking about