777

This is the 777 challenge, where you go to page 7, 7 lines down, and get the next 7 lines and put 'em in a blog post.
Ok that was a little confusing, how about Clare's wording:

The 777 challenge requires you go to Page 7 of your work-in-progress, scroll down to Line 7 and share the next 7 lines in a blog post. Once you have done this, you can tag 7 other bloggers to do the same with their work-in-progress.

That may be makin' it a little easier to understand.

So, I went to 'The Bridge of Anskar' and got the 7 lines. But not off page 7-because I've got a few things before the actual beginning of the story (and it would make even less sense)-but of the 7th page after the beginning of chapter 1. (It would be even better if it was chapter 7)
At first I really wasn't sure what to do because the seven lines both start and finish in the middle of a sentence so... I cheated and at least got a little more ....Well, here goes anyway!
~
“Perhaps we can drag it off the path and into those bushes.” she looked at me, obviously not knowing how I would take the news.

I screwed up my face in a grimace of distaste, “You want me to touch that…that thing?” I asked in horror.

Leonora nodded, “it’s not as bad as you might think really, and there isn’t any blood. We should be able to do it.” 

I took a deep breath, “Ok, I’m ready,” I said, although I felt anything but that.
~
It doesn't really make much sense...
Out of curiosity I looked to see what it would be in chapter 7, quite interesting really, not that it makes any more sense out of context, but for your interest I've decided to let you read it:
~
 “We start as soon as we can, heading from one small out crop to the other. That way we’ll get some rests so we don’t….you know….” I trailed off, and Eumin nodded his understanding. 

“We’d best wake Leonora then.”

When I shook her Leonora’s eyes shot open and she leapt to her feet, then relaxed as she saw Eumin and me standing there, “Oh, I thought for a second that the soldiers had come,” she said sheepishly.
~
That is from chapter 7...as you can see it's a little disjointed.
I don't really know anyone else who has a WIP, if my cousin had a blog I'd nominate her but...(although I could do it for her, as I have a copy of  hers)
So I guess I'll nominate nobody! (unless you really want me to do another blog post in which I impersonate my cousin)
I think I do a lot of nominating nobody...

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Dusty Red ~ Part 3

I really am having fun doing this, sometimes it's hard to think what should happen, but once I get going...then I really get going! Soon my blog will be over populated by Dust! And then I'll have to rename it The Dusty Mountains! Or maybe the magic does work and turns Dusty Town into Misty Town! (That would be weird) 

Thank you all for your comments, and I hope you enjoy Dusty Red Part 3!

Flicks regarded him with a sceptical expression, "A magic potion? You really must have kangaroos loose in your top paddock." She slumped into a chair, her hat slipping from her fingers and falling the floor with a soft thud.

Ron looked hurt, "Look 'ere now ol' girl, 'ave I ever givin' ye reason to be doubtin' me like this?"

"No, not at all," Flicks replied, running her fingers through her long hair, "What makes you think that you can invent magic?"

"Weel, let me jest be showin' ye..." the grey haired man shuffled over to a large desk on the other side of the room. He turned and beckoned to Flicks who rose with a sigh and went over to him.

Ron bent over a large book that lay open in front of him, he tapped a diagram on one page, "Weel, what do ye be thinkin' o' that?" he asked, his voice expectant.

Flicks craned her neck to look over his shoulder. She studied the drawing for quite a while, conscious of her friend's excited gaze on her.

After a minute or so she turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows raised. The expectant look died, to be replaced by a disappointed sigh, "It's a Nir Drole, can't ye be seein'?" he explained.

"A what?!"

"A Nir Drole!"

Flicks looked at the ceiling, groaned, and looked back at Ron, "And what, may I ask, is a...ner-der-roll thingy?"

"Nir Drole, not ner-der-roll. And as I said before, it be magic," Ron said earnestly.

"I see," Flicks said sceptically, "And what is it supposed to do?"

Ron frowned, "Weel, now as ye be mentionin' it I don't be quite sure meself," then his face brightened, "But there can't be no 'arm in tryin' it oot can there?"

"So you actually have made it? Not just a picture? Besides, I thought you said it was a potion."

"Yes indeed me girl, it is a potion. This 'ere diagram is a technical explanation of ev'ry thin' ye need to put in it."

"It is?" Flicks shook her head, but old Ron seemed not to notice her disbelief.

"Aye, that it is, and I've bin mixin' this oop all mornin' I 'ave," he reached over to a large jar full of a strange liquid, "It's jest es weel that ye came along at the verra right moment."

Flicks backed away hurriedly, "You aren't saying that I have to drink that I hope!"

Ron laughed and set down the jar, "No! I were jokin' with ye, it ain't ready yet anyways. And when it do be ready, I'm gonna be the one as drinks it!"

"Ron, don't be an idiot! How do you know it's not poisonous?" Flicks looked at him with a mixture of horror and pity in her green eyes.

"It won't be, so  ye needn't be worried 'bout me. If you come back t'morrow afternoon it'll be ready."

"Ok," Flicks groaned, 'If you're certain about this."

"O' course I be certain!"

Flicks shrugged, "Well, I'll be off then, see you later Ron."

Ron looked thoughtful, "I like that, lateron, or later on, or maybe later Ron, it don't make much difference, it all sounds good," then he smiled at Flicks, "Anyways, see ye t'morrow, and I be right glad to ye fer droppin' in." Flicks nodded and made her way towards the door.

When she entered the stable all was quiet except for the soft snuffling of horses and the scuffle of hay.

Flicks lent against the edge of Dust Storm's stall and ran her hand along the mare's neck, "Sometimes I think old Ron is getting too crazy for his own good," she murmured thoughtfully.

Dust Storm snorted and tossed her head. "You think so too girl?" Flicks smiled, "Well, we'd best be on our way."

At that moment the sound of pounding hooves came from outside, there was a few seconds of confusion and then three voices shouting and a pounding on the door of Ron's shop.

Flicks recognised the voices all too well.

Kendal.

~

Don't be forgettin' to help me decide what happens next by voting for your favourite in the comments!

1. Flicks grabbed Dust Storm's saddle, she had to get away before she was found, and Kendal caused even more trouble.

2. Heavy footsteps approached and, after a moment's hesitation, Flicks vaulted into the stall with Dust Storm.

3. Flicks bit her lip and walked silently to the door, still open a crack, and peered out.

~

Thanks for reading, I hope you have as much fun as I do!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Dusty Red ~ Part 2

So now we come to Part 2. I will not apologise that it is 'a few days late' as I never said I would post every week. That was my sister's doing, I had nothing to do with it! But as I didn't have any other ideas I thought I'd better go ahead anyway and do Part 2!
But before you read it I have something to say...
I was very disappointed at you readers - not all, some of you were good - but some (about half, if not more) of you, I could name at least three, didn't comment on my post.
Naughty naughty naughty!
If I said, "I command you to comment!" I mightn't get any, but let's see if this works...
~
I fall to my knees and beg them, "I beseech thee, thou art good people, so I sayeth have mercy! I have no a chance if thou withholdeth thy comments from my eager hand! Pray give, and do not hold back!"
The certain people to whom I was speaking to, stepped back a pace and raised their eyebrows at me. One was heard to mutter, "Whoa, maybe we should leave."
But at that I stand again, "Nay, leave not! As the scriptures say, 'what ever you do for the least of these you do for me'. Likewise, you also ought not to leave me without adhering to my plea."
I now await eagerly for their answer.
~
So...will you comment? (Comment and say if you won't)
But if you don't, I suppose I'll forgive you, but be warned, soon I'll be writing two stories at once! As with Dusty Red it appears that it is up to you to decide what happens next to the luckless girl who's readers refuse to comment.

I've been informed that it is a bit difficult to locate where my story is situated, and one or two other things. Basically, it's taken off outback Australia, (not America) Kendal is pretty much a bush-ranger (hence the gun) but as there is no real law enforcement in Dusty Town he is allowed to get away with his actions. But after this instalment, I'm not so sure that Dusty Town is in Australia after all...
Well, I'd best be getting on with the story:

Flicks paused then she nodded to Smokey, and passed a few coins across the bar as if nothing had happened, “Just tea please,” she said.

Smokey swallowed then shrugged slightly, turning again to the pot over the fire. Flicks could feel Kendal’s gaze on her but she ignored him steadily. Smokey turned back to Flicks and placed the tea on the bar. A gun roared. Flicks’ hand shot out and pulled the cup forwards.

The bullet grazed her knuckles and she pressed them to her side. Taking the cup in the other hand she drained it quickly and set it down again. “Thanks,” she said, flashing her easy smile at Smokey who was looking at her in surprise.

The tall girl clapped her hat back on, turned on her heal and walked to the door, when she reached it she looked back momentarily and a satisfying glimpse of Kendal’s furious face before she left the room.

The air outside was dry and hot, to put it lightly. The red, sun-baked dust seemed to pump out heat. Flicks untied her horse, and swung into the saddle.
Instead of heading home she turned her mount down the street to a building with a large painted sign over it. The sign read: “Ron’s Rust and co.” Flicks dismounted again and led her horse – which was named Dust Storm – to a small shed at the side of the shop.

The interior proved to be a small stable; two matching brown horses were in two stalls already and Flicks lead Dust Storm to the third and last stall.

After unsaddling and taking off the bridle, Flicks left Dust Storm with a bucket of water and a murmured, “There you are girl,” and a pat on the chestnut’s silky neck. 
Flicks entered the shop by the back door, knocking first and entering at the, “Come in,” from within.

The unusual amount of rusty gizmos and gadgets lying around would surprise most people but Flicks was used to it and threaded her way through them to the old kitchen.

“G’day old girl! Don’t this be a nice surprise!” old Ron’s face creased in a smile which was always ready when Flicks was nearby.

“You’re looking even older than when I last saw you if I do say so,” she exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face also, “Been busy?”

“Weel, I can’t be a complainin’ now, I’ve got one or two bits an’ pieces as I’ve been workin’ on, but ‘part of that,” Ron spread his hands wide and shrugged, smiling ingeniously, “It all be good!”

Flicks looked suspiciously at him, “That’s all? No crazy ideas?”

“Ermm, weel, now you says it I can be thinkin’ o’ somfin’ else,” he trailed off, shifting his feet awkwardly.

Flicks sighed, “What is it this time? An automatic horse harnesser? A lunch cooker? A unrust illusion?”

Old Ron frowned, “What be a unrust illusion?”

Flicks shrugged, “I’ve got no idea, I just thought you might.”

“Weel, no, leastways that aint be what I be makin’,” Ron glanced around the room then leaned closer to Flicks and whispered, “I be inventin’ a magic potion!”

~

I'm quite interested to see where this goes next, so, your options...

1. Then Ron laughed, “Weel, not actually, though some might be regardin’ it as dat.”

2. “No really,” Ron’s deep brown eyes regarded her seriously, and a mysterious edge came into his voice, “I am.”


3. Flicks regarded him with a sceptical expression, “A magic potion? You really must have kangaroos loose in your top paddock.”

~

I really couldn't help throwing a bit of fantasy/magic in there.

If you thought that the beginning was a little boring, that was all your fault. You all had to choose the most boring option! (Personally nuber 3 was my favourite. 1 was the only one I had no idea what could happen after.) But this time I be thinkin' all de options be intestin' so as no one gets sick o' readin' 'em. 

Now please, Please don't forget to comment and vote, or you'll miss out on all the fun! (And believe me, I had so much fun this time, I be lovin' de way as old Ron talks.)

Have fun!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

Choose the Adventure ~ Dusty Red ~ Part One

I've decided to start a story writing thing on my blog, inspired by Gillian's "When Destiny Comes Calling". So, this isn't any normal story writing, yeah I do the writing, but what is different is You choose what happens next.
What I'll do is after every post on "Dusty Red" -as I've called this story thing- I'll give you three options to choose out of. To vote for your favourite just comment on the post and whichever gets the most votes is what I write about next!
No editing whatsoever has been done to this and it is simply for the fun (and practice) of writing for me, and the fun of reading for you. (I'm assuming it's not practice reading for you...)
I can't say how frequent I'll be at doing these posts, it depends if I can bother or how long it takes to think up the story.
Now for the story!

Flicks Tiller had an interesting reputation in her town, often it was said to describe her: “Eyes as green as the Mallee trees and hair as dust-red as the streets of the town,”- which was, ironically, called Dusty Town.

And it was. Very. So were its occupants.

Flicks was no exception, especially after a long ride on her horse. She had just completed such a ride and walked into the tavern for lunch.

 “Look ‘ere! It’s the Tiller kid finally coming to join us,” Kendal’s harsh, cruel voice stood out in the tavern, as her lean and wiry, albeit rather dusty, figure entered though the main door.
The girl’s gaze swept the room for a second then she took off her hat, shaking her hair, and strode over to the bar.

The bar holder was a kind fellow with a smoke coloured beard, for which reason everyone had forgotten his name and called him Smokey.
“What’ll it be today me girl?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Just a plate of grub and a dash of that tea will do thanks,” Flicks Tiller replied, gesturing to the pot over the stove.

“Coming right on, Miss Tiller.”

The large, brawny Kendal snorted, “Well now? Miss Tiller is it? I thought it were Flicks. Don’t yer know ‘er name Smokey? Flicks Tiller it is, not Miss,” he said scornfully.

Flicks ignored Kendal’s comments. Ever since her parents died two years before she had tried to steer clear of him, knowing him as nothing but trouble. But living as she did in small Dusty Town it was impossible for them not to crash into each other sometimes.
Kendal’s two friends, Derron and Lars weren’t so bad, but still, they helped him in his schemes and weren’t the nicest fellows.

Smokey pushed a plate of beef and buttered potatoes across the bar and a cup of tea beside it. Flicks smiled and opened her mouth to thank Smokey when Kendal interrupted again, “Why do we have the pleasure of seeing you here today, Miss Tiller?”

Flicks looked at Kendal, “I don’t talk much during lunch, so if you don’t mind I’ll keep that to myself.”

Kendal scowled, and Flicks looked away, shrugging inwardly. Kendal was a man hard to please.

She was about to grab her plate and cup when the crash of a gun sounded behind her, and the bullet whistled through the air, hitting the tin plate and knocking it and the tea off the bar. There was no doubt as to who had shot. 

Flicks paused then…

~

Now you can choose what happens next...your three options:

1. She nodded to Smokey, and passed a few coins across the bar, as if nothing had happened, “Just tea please,” she said.

2. Took a deep breath and turned slowly to face Kendal,
“Do you have nothing to do but sit in here and annoy people?” she asked, her eyebrows raised, a picture of complete calm. 


3. Turned around to leave, but a movement in the window caught her eye. A yell burst from her lips as she saw two men at her horse untying the reins. She dashed out the door, leaving Kendal smirking behind her.

~

Make sure you comment and vote for your favourite!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden

The Bridge of Anskar

   I've finished the first draft of my novel! It took a lot of work and there were times when I was sure I must have been an idiot to even think of starting. But now The first bit is finished, but now here comes the editing....and the second draft...and the third draft....
   So far it has:
Pages: 121
Words: 39,967
Characters: (with spaces) 208,580 (without spaces) 169,503
Chapters: 12
Paragraphs: 1,250
Lines:3,531

Here's a link to my Pintrest board: The Bridge of Anskar.

I've written and re-written the synopsis so many times it's not funny but this is what I've ended up with:

When modern Australian girl, Anastasia Newbridge, accidentally stumbles into the land of Eirerandil in its time of greatest peril, she is plunged into the greatest adventure of her life.

With the King on his deathbed, the royals are in chaos as multiple deaths occur under suspicious circumstances. The Crown Prince, Azruen, disappears, and it is up to Ana and her friends to attempt the dangerous mission to rescue him and return him to his rightful position.

But the evil Lady Morgal is powerful beyond belief and will stop at nothing to get what she wants.​ Against such odds can Ana fulfil the ancient prophecies and prove she is worthy of her name?

I've also drawn a map of my world, Eirerandil. I'm not an artist so it took a bit of convincing myself that I could actually do it, but I did. And it wasn't really that hard.

My oldest (positively ancient) sister, Clare, has read the whole thing and critiqued it for me, and I'm currently working on fixing all the random things I wrote...

It can be funny when Clare points out some random thing that doesn't hake sense but it can also be difficult. Apparently my people sleep to much.I must admit, they do. For example, they (MC and three friends) are being chased through a forest...then they get to the beach and - this is really crazy - they sit down and eat something...then the soldiers come along and disturb their picnic...

I'm just a little ashamed of that myself...it makes my characters look like hungry idiots! (They're not)

But aside from all that, it was very nice of Clare when she finished reading it to say that it was better then she had expected. Although if you thing about that comment it could be taken as an insult but it wasn't. Besides, we insult each other all the time (for fun of course, we're Aussies!). It could be interesting to know what a complete stranger thinks of us when Clare and I are walking around in the shops dodging packets of frozen potato chips that we are swiping at each other's heads. It's quite fun...you should try it!

But back to the point (or the future) I have finished the first draft, but that aint meanin' I'm finished, so to speak. There's a lot more work ahead but I'm looking forward to it.

Now, what am I going to write my next novel about?

~ Jane, Misty Maiden