Saturday, April 26, 2014

Eight Sentences: Zeelia (15)

Gravy-like sludge slipped from under her boots, moss gave way when she grabbed it. She slid down a curved embankment, struck a rock, hit a rotting log that flipped her onto her back. A massive cluster of two-toned ferns and fungi stopped her on the edge of a limpid pool of scummed-over water. She started to pull herself up from the rich scarlet silt. Then it began to rain. A soft, drenching, warm rain. She stopped struggling when she saw that the rain was washing away her tracks and instead pulled ooze, moss and wet debris over her armor and hoped she could avoid detection. Continued running was pointless, what the Jarpha wanted her to do; she intended to turn things around instead, to become the hunter, not the prey.



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The Weekend Writing Warriors site sponsors a round of 8-sentence excerpts every weekend. Zeelia (1) was my first 8-sentence except and has become a regular weekly feature here at my blog. There is a new Linky-list at Weekend Writing Warriors for everyone participating in the blog-hop each weekend. Be sure to check out some of the other writers!

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Eight Sentences: Zeelia (14)

Ferns the size of elephants, fronds big enough to use as tents; she ran from stalk to stem to trunk and on through the increasingly dim reddish twilight that lingered beneath the lowest canopy. Her boots were gummed with resinous gunk, her hair was sticky with red stuff in the air--maybe pollen, possibly spores, she wasn't sure and didn't have time to give it much attention. Whatever it was, it mingled with her sweat and the humidity in the air until it ran like blood down her face and shoulders. She wiped the stuff out of her eyes and kept moving. Silence dogged her every step. Dead silence. Anything that couldn't get away was hunkering down, hiding, hoping to get overlooked. What was coming after her had made a powerful impression on the local wildlife; only the swarms of hungry black beetles ignored her plight, disinterested in her flight, as they continued to collect resin and go about their tasks.




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The Weekend Writing Warriors site sponsors a round of 8-sentence excerpts every weekend. Zeelia (1) was my first 8-sentence except and has become a regular weekly feature here at my blog. There is a new Linky-list at Weekend Writing Warriors for everyone participating in the blog-hop each weekend. Be sure to check out some of the other writers!

Monday, April 14, 2014

Zeelia: An Introduction

Zeelia is an ongoing science fiction adventure serial written in eight-sentence episodes. A new episode is posted every week, usually on Saturday morning, as part of the Weekend Writing Warriors weekly blog-hop.

We begin right in the middle of some action; Zeelia is fleeing, in stolen armor, from the scalehounds of the Jarpha. She's hurt, harried and hunted when we first meet her and in order to escape her pursuers, she takes a wild leap into the unknown. We discover bits and pieces about this strange red landscape, and Zeelia herself, as we go along, eight sentences at a time.

Since this serial is being presented in eight-sentence snippets each week, there sometimes isn't a lot of room to get into some of the details like what a scalehound is, or who the Jarpha are, so I'm going to be putting together a few bonus-posts that will give readers a little more insight into the background. Much like how Edgar Rice Burroughs, Lin Carter, and others who established the traditions of the old planetary romances and sword and planet pulps, with their maps of exotic worlds, and appendices detailing weird creatures and so forth, this secondary series of posts will do some of the same things for Zeelia as we go along. 




Zeelia's Data-Node
An Introduction    An Index    

The Weekend Writing Warriors site sponsors a round of 8-sentence excerpts every weekend. Zeelia (1) was my first 8-sentence except and has become a regular weekly feature here at my blog. There is a new Linky-list at Weekend Writing Warriors for everyone participating in the blog-hop each weekend. Be sure to check out some of the other writers!

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Eight Sentences: Zeelia (13)

Light erupted thunderously behind her head. Again. Hammer-blow winds ripped at her back, tugged at her hands, threatened to dislodge her in mid-step. But she kept moving. Didn't fall. Didn't stop. She wasn't there to feel the third blast. She ran through red foliage for all she was worth.




Previous                                                                                       Next


The Weekend Writing Warriors site sponsors a round of 8-sentence excerpts every weekend. Zeelia (1) was my first 8-sentence except and has become a regular weekly feature here at my blog. There is a new Linky-list at Weekend Writing Warriors for everyone participating in the blog-hop each weekend. Be sure to check out some of the other writers!

Friday, April 11, 2014

Zeelia: An Index

On Saturday, January 11, 2014, Zeelia debuted here on my blog. I had just discovered the Weekend Writing Warriors, a group of authors who post 8-sentence excerpts of their work online every week. It sounded like a cool idea and I thought that I would give it a shot. I wrote-out my first eight sentences. The second set quickly followed. A third. Before I knew it, I had written eight installments one after the other in one fell swoop, so I started posting them as an ongoing weekly eight-sentence serial.

Here are links to all the Episodes, so far...


Series One: Episodes 1 to 20
One    Two    Three    Four    Five    Six    Seven    Eight    Nine    Ten    Eleven    Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen Twenty



Series Two: Coming Soon!
21    22    23  ...

Or try a Label Search to read all the posts in order back to the beginning

Zeelia's Data-Node
An Introduction    An Index

The Weekend Writing Warriors site sponsors a round of 8-sentence excerpts every weekend. Zeelia (1) was my first 8-sentence except and has become a regular weekly feature here at my blog. There is a new Linky-list at Weekend Writing Warriors for everyone participating in the blog-hop each weekend. Be sure to check out some of the other writers!

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Eight Sentences: Zeelia (12)

Three tall, thin beings stalked towards the edge of the water right below her perch. Softly glowing jellyfish-sacs of buoyant fluid floated around them providing an incredibly adjustable form of illumination. They carried spears and were covered head to toe in some sort of bark or chitin. It was impossible to tell if it was armor or their own natural hide. One of them spotted the place where she had come ashore and made gestures to its companions, which was all she needed to see to know it was time to get moving again. There was a sort of ledge formed by a twisted tangle of roots that led off around the main mass. She didn't get very far before the three hunters were picked out by the strobe lamps of a Jarpha pursuit aerostat. She didn't stop to watch how things would go; she knew all too well that the Jarpha had earned their reputation for ruthlessness.




Previous                                                                                       Next


The Weekend Writing Warriors site sponsors a round of 8-sentence excerpts every weekend. Zeelia (1) was my first 8-sentence except and has become a regular weekly feature here at my blog. There is a new Linky-list at Weekend Writing Warriors for everyone participating in the blog-hop each weekend. Be sure to check out some of the other writers!

Friday, April 4, 2014

Bacon and Eggs (Friday Flash)

Bacon and eggs. One of the best ways to wake up. Even down here. Too bad we're out of coffee. Those bulbous yellow roots make something passable anyway. Even if'n I have to boil them three times after they've roasted in the cook-fire coals overnight. Coffee isn't supposed to be yellow, but with enough honey, they don't complain too much, so long as they don't know where the honey comes from. At least not within my hearing. I'm starting to kind of like the aroma of the stuff. Reminds me of turmeric and ginseng. But not quite either.

We're just about out of eggs. I never expected us to go through two crates-full on this trip. I also never counted on re-filling the egg-crates twice now with those things that the boss calls eggs. I don't care who you think you are, things cut out of the belly of some worm aren't really eggs. Ova, yes. Eggs, no. Hell no. But there's no arguing with the boss.

She's a real slave-driver that one. Mean, too. When she's hungry. Nothing a few biscuits and beans can't fix. Especially how I make 'em. Too bad we lost my still back at that lagoon place. Hated to leave it behind, but the natives weren't gonna let me go back for it. Not and keep my skin intact. And I'm rather partial to my own skin.

We've got three bottles of hootch left. No one knows that but me. I hope it's enough. I have the sneaking suspicion that it won't be. Especially as we're eating these things the boss insists on calling eggs. Damn things don't scramble worth a damn. Not without a shot of hootch in the pan. Need a solvent to break down the membranes. Liquor works. Might have to try vinegar one of these mornings. Hate to waste all the hootch we have left on these eggs. Who ever heard of pink eggs anyhow? Pink. Not even the good pink of partly cooked meat. Even the flapjacks and fry-cakes come out pink from using these so-called eggs. Anyone gives me one word of guff about it and I'll brain 'em with my second-best cast iron pan. The heavy one.

At least we've got bacon now. I think it's bacon. I cut it from the right part of the animal, just like I was taught. Like I've been doing for longer than half these little shits have been alive, a lot longer than most of them are ever going to live to see.

It fries-up like bacon. Sizzles. Pops. Real fatty stuff. I've smoked a couple of good-sized slabs. Salted some too. But I've gotta be careful not to use-up all the salt. We haven't found any down here. Outside of that greenish crap that smelled wrong. That was a weird place. A dead, green, salt sea buried six miles down. That's what the cartographer says. I'm not sure how he knows how deep we are, but the boss trusts him, so I keep quiet about it. Even if I do think he's just pulling his numbers out of his arse. Never trust one of those albino-like bastards. That's what my old ma always told me. Right up until they took her away. That was a nasty business. I still have her recipe book in my chest. Locked and buried underneath old drawers so no one will get any too curious. Used to keep a de-fanged snake in there with it, but the fool thing got crushed after we went over a waterfall. It would've drowned, too, but it was crushed first. Now I just let 'em think that I still have a snake in there. Since I skinned it, I sort of do still have one on-hand, after a fashion. Sometimes the idea is more effective than the reality.


It's funny how the boss knew all about the piggies down here. Big, fat, shaggy things. Mostly blind. Real docile, mostly. Strange splayed-out hooves, but definitely pigs. She says that her people have been raising them down here instead of cattle. They root around, eat fungus and stuff. Clean up garbage. Pretty useful creatures. Tasty, too. If'n you haven't seen some of the larger one walking around on their hind feet.





Wermspittle