Working on Writing

•August▪wip: Thistled Rose of Glishirn • Here I'll be posting first drafts and sneak peaks of my book/stories I'm working on. If you have any questions feel free to ask! I'm a new writer so please bear with me as I learn what I'm doing here. Main blog @masterfuldoodler.

[august-writing]

First Draft:

I like to write poetry It's not the type that rhymes or has a meter It's mostly just words Not polished and pretty like Mary Oliver But I like to spill my thoughts out and arrange them Shifting through the pieces till I find the words I like True I could just say it But writing it gives a freedom A certain romance To the most simple things When I think out loud here I can be as lofty as I wish It feels a bit pretentious to call this poetry It's mostly just words Though it is a bit funny Because I also like to draw Same as my poetry writing habits Nothing polished and pretty like the artists that you're thinking of I'm kinda just scribbling I use BIC pens and printer paper Or the backs of my old math tests I like the way the ink glides along the paper The way shapes quickly take form How I can pull straight from my head Or copy what I see, using the lines and molds my art style builds in It feels a bit pretentious to call it art I'm kinda just scribbling Sometimes I like to make art I draw and I write And it's nothing polished and pretty And it wasn't meant to be I like just how it is in it's rambling and blotchy ink Maybe I'll remake it someday Or maybe it will stick with you And you'll make it in your own way You need a first draft before you get to polished and pretty

[august-writing]

a dying moment will imprint its steps

and water will fall into it

and become a river.

even a corpse of the past

can become a frame

for new growth

[august-writing]

Don't Make Me Do This Alone - drabble

Set during Ketsler's past. Vinni POV.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Vinni said.

Ketsler paused briefly as he cut a slice of bread, he continued silently. She wasn’t sure if he planned to answer.

Ketlser’s house felt stale and empty, as if they had invaded a tomb. The noise as he prepared his food felt wrong. Too big, too empty, too nothing.

“I’m sure people could step in for you, you don’t have to do-”

Ketsler cut her off. “I can’t.”

“There are lots of other masters, I’m sure they won’t mind-”

“Vinni,” He gave her his full attention, he looked so tired. “Chaos is out there, and he’s mad. He could be hurting so many people. I’m the only one that can stop him, you know that.”

“I know, but I’m just-,” She tried to twist the words around to find the right meaning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Vinni felt something in her knot up, squeezing in her chest. “You’re fine? You’re-” She choked on the last words, finding her breath slipping out faster than she thought.

“I can handle it,” He eyes locked onto the counter as he gripped it. “I was trained for this.”

“You’re clearly not fine!” Her voice rose without her consent, pitched odd against the tightness in her chest. “You can’t be fine, you’re-” Her words flubbled about a second, the situation so wrong she didn’t know where to begin.

“You haven’t eaten a proper meal since he- since he’s gone!” She gestured to the bread left abandoned in front of him.

“Vinni-” His voice was quiet.

“I- why would you do this? You can’t just be okay after he-” She dodged around the word, unable to say it so loud, so real. “We were all he had, how could you just forget him?”

“Please-” Ketsler choked out, his head bowed forward, the air cold around them.

“Don’t make me go through this alone.” She could feel a sob slipping out of her, tears escaping out her eyes. It hurt, it hurt so much to think of. If she tried to picture it all together, she just couldn’t. They were all there was, this was his world, only them left to remember.

“I can’t cry right now,” There were tears on Ketsler’s cheek.

She slipped off her stool, wrapping him in a hug. “Of course you can. You don’t have to spare me.”

Ketsler gave a shuttered sob and leaned against her.

Vinni gripped the back of his shirt, leaning her head onto his, her tears falling down her face and into his hair.

“I miss him so much.” His voice was so small, so broken, it made her heart break and she held him tighter.

“Me too.” She wished she had something else to say, some sort of comfort, but all she could do was cry and hold on.

[august-writing]

[august-writing]

Fireflies

Blades of golden fragility swaying in the dusk. The white lace of the field blooming heads up

Weaving in and out is the shining spectacle of fireflies bidding us goodnight.

The light is slipping

And the field blends together

But in the shadow is their ephemeral dance

Always moving

Always fading

But glowing just the same

Just a moment

Just a glimmer

But beauty just the same

There a second

Gone an instant

Are they singing to us?

Oh to have ears to hear their tune

Sometimes I can feel it

When the light is low

And they weave around me through the leaves and flowers

And I feel their tone

Soft and delicate

Fast and everlasting

So why then is their song such a sad one

One to make me yearn for the past

Oh if I could melt into the wind

Then I too would dance in the twilight

[august-writing]

Quietly quietly, the world is singing

          Can you hear it?

In the sun, in the grass, carved in the trees.

Maybe I could touch it,

   and it'd sink into my finger tips

       and make a home in my heart.

Maybe I could catch it,

   squeezing gently before it slips out,

       peeking between my fingers at the fireflies.

Maybe I could swallow it,

   down my throat all glowing

       sitting in my chest like a knot.

Maybe I could open my mouth,

   and the song would spring out.

But it stays only a song I can see,

   singing for my eyes.

I reach to touch it

   Will it let me in?

The song of the universe,

           Where'd the magic go?

There's a hunger in my soul,

   A yearning for more.

O, if only my ears would open,

           if only it could sink in.

Then I could hear

           What I now can only see.

[august-writing]

3/8/2024

I step outside my apartment, and there's a walkway between the two three-story buildings

and sometimes when I pass through they feel like walls of a gate

There's a pole carrying a powerline and when I'm out getting laundry I see the sunset through the sliver between those walls, and it catches on the wires

my camera washes it out and I can't share the moment, it just tugs on me

I could write a poem about that

It's been drizzling all day and when I stepped outside in my no-show socks and sandals I met a dilemma

the path between the walls, through the gate, has gathered a big puddle across it's sloping ground

I could write a poem about that

And there's sand in the corners of the sidewalk, caught there from the wind or a child building castles

and there's a dirt path that cuts through a corner to reach the door faster

and sometimes I see a little boy walking his big black dog, and it feels like he stepped out of a fairytale but he lives on the floor below

I could write a poem about that

I walk to work and see trees that curve around the powerlines, and look like hands holding the wire taut

and the way the little trees planted in a row are wet from rain

and have you noticed how when the bark is darker it makes the spring buds more green? And it always rains in spring

I could write a poem about that

I'd like to write a poem about how beautiful the world is, and how Someone put so many details into it

And I'd like to say that life is lovely and full of things that make me think of that Someone

But there's just so many things

and I have only so many words

I'd like to write a poem about that

[august-writing]

For the Writer WIP Game (It’s been a while, hasn’t it?):

💚🖤💔💕💖💝

💚: how long have you been working on it?

It's been six year, give or take. I haven't been working on it full-steam this whole time. To be honest, I haven't worked on it much half that time lol

🖤: what are your MC names?

Aithus, Kloe, and Edmund Eventone!

💔: give a brief character bio of your 3-5 MCs

Aithus: Short and stubborn, appears to be fueled by rage and a need of justice but secretly he just cares so so much and is grumbling to hold back his tears. Okay but he is actually stubborn. Yeah I dunno this guy is filled with guilt and piling burdens on to himself. Kloe: Very patient very steady. Going through it because everyone she turns people are freaking out and throwing everything into stuff and she has to watch as they burn themselves up. "Please just let me stand by you, it's okay I want to help you hold this." Edmund: Silliest man ever, absolute fool and jokester, very annoying. Even worse because his jokes are funny sometimes. There's something on the edge and it's concerning but you can't put your finger on it, it just lingers in his laugh. He is not going anywhere, for better or for worse (it is very unclear).

💕: what has your favorite scene been?

Actually a scene I never finished writing lol so I never posted it here. I think the doc is called 'babysitting'. Aithus is attempting to break into a military outpost and gather info and Edmund is being a huge help. It was really fun to write that side of Ed! And I love making fun of Aithus lol

💖: are you planning on publishing it? if so, how?

I think so! That's way in the future so I'm not sure. I would love to publish it through Rabbit Room or the like.

💝: who has your favorite character arch? give a brief summary

Okay it feels a bit unfair to pick Edmund because his character arch continues after this story so it's not all happening here. So maybe Aithus? I just really like characters who are trying so hard to be good, and he's definitely doing that and messing up and needing to figure out how he can actually help people and do good like he so desperately wants.

ask game here:

[august-writing]

How rich are your robes

How delicate the silks of your covering

How vibrant is the wealth of your father.

From sleep you rose

And blooming you awoke

To grace the world in beauty

In the beauty of your joy.

Through the skies you dance

The rising of your song caught on the wind.

Your tears run through the rain

But your laughter gleams behind the clouds.

The earth is awake! And it's singing.

From winter's grave it sprung forth.

The lull of summer will ebb away its vibrant thanksgiving

But these few months are bursting with the joy and grief of living.

The earth is alive! And it is singing.

Through gloom and shine it thrives.

The King has rose, and we dance

In the spring's rejoicing.

[august-writing]

"Not I," I said, "I love you."

Yet when blood was on your face I knew you not.

"Would you follow me, my child? Even in the dark?"

But when the light blew dim I fled.

You told me of the future, and of a joy to come 

You loved me and you taught me

"I know your heart, my child."

When you were weak and weary where was I to comfort?

When you cried out for the Father I hid my face.

I saw you. I saw your eyes and anguish.

O how it pierced me. How could I abandon you?

"Not I," I said, "I love you." But how could it be true?

I turned and left my lover.

Weak and twisted is the heart that claimed to live for you

How can it be, how can I live? I wish to love you.

Yet it is a dead heart that saw your face among the crowd.

A light flew across the distance. On the wings of your suffering.

O how it pierced me. My eyes have opened.

I don't deserve to be here, to sing and see the dawn

Lord let me live and love you

How I was meant to all along

[august-writing]

There's a rock in my chest. It sits close by the heart, a cold weight in the winter. A dead weight in the long nights.

When spring wind blows the clouds in storms, and the grass covers the barren earth. When the sun blooms and sheds golden, I can feel it on my skin. The trees make buds and dusk melts in dawn. I can feel it on my skin.

It soaks down and touches the rock in my chest. And the thing about it is it holds in heat. Every little brush of sunlight and warmth.

There's a rock in my chest. It sits close by the heart, a burning weight in the summer. A living weight in the long days.

[august-writing]

Every moment holy 

Open up my eyes 

To see behind the murmurs 

Your intricate surprise 

Build an altar of the earth 

I lay me here to rest 

A glorious rebirth 

Sing my soul in breath 

Every moment holy 

I see you in the haze 

Every breath of glory 

Take my life and praise 

Where the white turns gray 

A hidden thread of gold 

Let this moment stay 

In all the ones I hold

[august-writing]

Anxiety

There's a (scrambling) in my mind. 

The bedroom cast in dark 

I lie awake, pinned between the sheets 

Like crayon scribbles in the corners, pressing in 

Can I sink in? 

Before they reach the center? 

It moves too fast—irregular—moving over itself, getting nowhere 

Yet it's creeping out the corners

How can I escape? 

I close my eyes 

But they'll be waiting when I wake 

Closer 

The (scribbles) make no noise 

They don't need to

My mind fills in the noise 

The noise—the noise—

I loop the moment to keep the time from passing 

No-no— I can't stay in this moment 

I can't let it go forward 

Can I sink in? Fall asleep? 

Stay in blissful peace? 

Can I close my eyes, and forget the future? 

Let it pass over, I'm not here 

Can I stay—frozen in a moment set aside? 

I sink within myself 

Deeper than the (scribbles) can ever reach 

    Let me sleep in a dream.

[august-writing]

In the Present

I have a habit of looking at my feet while I walk 

  (left right left right) 

Fully focused plotting my course forward 

  (off the path, cross a short cut) 

My head bent down—I watch one step ahead 

  (I get there quickly this way) 

And when I reach the end I pause and find this isn't where I wanted to be 

No. The location is the same 

  (it's where I planned to go) 

But so am I 

  (I think I was supposed to grow) 

My shoes just walked through a meadow that someone else was painting 

  (I didn't see them sitting there) 

I can't remember why I wanted to smile and I'm sun burnt 

  (I had to not waste time) 

Maybe if I paused at the beginning or the middle. 

Maybe if I wasted a moment to see what I was doing I'd see the brook I crossed

  and the field of grass and flowers. 

The trees that swayed and cast shade for someone who was painting

[august-writing]

Winter

The LORD bent down from heaven 

and tucked His child in

He comforted creation

and said it’s time to dream

[august-writing]

(Fairy Night)

skip in tune

and dance around

circle moon

and bright star crown

lady of the heaven bright

smile soft and bless tonight

laughter light

and sweet your face

merry might

and warming gaze

knight o strong of sky so vast

bathe the earth until it's last

shout aloud

and praise the King

strong and proud

in time we sing

Mighty Lord you reign above

bless us with your living love

[restbeyondtheriver]

The fact that I don’t feel God’s presence with me should tell me He is closer than ever.  Satan is smart, and he knows that if I feel far away I might actually start to believe it. God is right next to me, and I will not give in.  I will not give Satan the satisfaction of making me think God has left me.  I know too much scripture to believe it.  I know my feelings shift and swell, but God is right here all the same.

[august-writing]

"Why do you fear the distance?

you house the holy

a wind in your soul

I am haunted by the Holy Ghost

O saint, God is not far off"