Showing posts with label September 2022. Show all posts
Showing posts with label September 2022. Show all posts

Monday, September 5, 2022

Progress! And a Story!

I didn't accomplish everything I set out to do this summer, but I did make progress on a number of fronts so I'm counting the season as a win.

 

Back in June, I posted about wanting to get the following done – 

 

* Do some cleaning up, de-cluttering and organizing inside and outside the house.

 

Eh. A little bit here and there. 

 


* Finish the 202.2 miles challenge. Maybe start one of the 100 miles challenges.

 

Nope. I really wanted to get the 202.2 miles challenge done by the end of the summer, but for a number of reasons – not all of them my lazy butt's fault! -  that didn't happen. I did keep slogging along so miles were made!

 

Stats as of 8/31/2022 = 

163.2/202.2 miles (walking only)

0/100 miles

0/100 miles

 


* Get at least one draft of my novella done.

 

Nope. But I got organized, have a loose outline, wrote a chunk of chapters. I believe, think, hope, pray I've got a better handle on it than I did before.

 


* Write and submit at least two stories to markets.

 

Yes! I revised one for a contest where it made the finals but didn't rank in the top three. And I wrote a story for a flash fiction contest on literary agent, Janet Reid's, blog. It didn't make the finals, but it received a couple of nice comments from fellow readers. Some of the rules included a word count of 100 words or fewer, and it must contain five words: Depth, Froth, Phase, Showy, Atoll.

 

Maybe the story will give you a chill despite the summer heat . . .  

 

*****

 

Dearest Uncle,

My terror has no depth.

With the moon's every phase, this land's black soul takes root, spreads. I curse myself for bringing my family here!

You recall the elusive beasts, tearing nightly through the fields, strewing shredded entrails as if for show. You suggested I hunt. I found no tracks.

Until now.

They led to the house. Inside, three beasts, blood frothing their mouths, fed on my wife's body.

I pray these words find you, Uncle. Before accepting the legal responsibility that befalls you after my death, know the truth.

Be afraid of my children.

Yours,
A. Tolliver

 

*****

 

How was your summer? Accomplish any goals? Make progress on some projects? Have fun?