#exposure writing

[wildswrites]

(id: a horizontal collage of three photos. The first on the left is of a wall with a shelf. On the shelf hangs bundled herbs and plants. Beneath the shelf is a coat rack with various articles of clothing. The image in the middle is a picture of a girl that looks like she is walking through flames or embers. She is little more than a silhouette, only lit up by the fire beneath her feet. The last image on the right is of a shelf. On the shelf is a variety of glassware, bottles that are sealed and empty, and a mortar and pestle. end id)

Images come from unsplash and can be found in my project hero collection.

Just like last time, I am fully expecting this to not get a lot of notes, and that’s okay! But, if you’re willing to play a little game with me I would really really really appreciate it. Just like last time I’m going to call this exposure writing aka the “I need motivation” game. If you want to steal this, please do! And let me know, because I WILL interact with your posts.

We’re going to up the ante just a little bit...

For every like this post gets, i will write five sentences.

For every reblog this post gets, i will write ten sentences.

For every twenty sentences that I write, I will share them and tag who made it possible.

I will be working on my wip: project hero. It is the story of a young woman who works in the castles of the Barrington Queendom. Being spliced (and thus, at least ten percent animal), she does not have the ability to do magic. So when Prince Wyatt sees Keona using a healing potion to bring her father back from the edge of death, he is rightfully intrigued. His interest in her ends up with a lie that will carry Keona right into the heart of the castle- and to the heat of all the action that is happening there. Can she help keep Prince Wyatt alive long enough to see his sister wed, or are things destined to fall apart before the future queen can say I do?

taglist:  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @icarianneil @eastwrites @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @super-writer-gal @ashen-crest @starfast @thewolfofthestars

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part two.

twenty sentences, made possible by @monkbeauregard, @magnoliaash, @lady-of-himring, and @mostly-vo1d. writing while babysitting is slow going, but it’s going!

Now she is every bit more beautiful than she was before, the rich blue fur creeping up her arms a sign of their intense love and trust for one another. Still, it took a long time to get used to.

“She needs to understand the severity of the situation, mother,” Bastian argues without quite arguing. The venom vanishes from his tongue the moment that he is speaking to her, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. She already deals with enough as it is. “I’m just trying to make her understand. A fauna with Moon Mage abilities? It’s impossible. She’s just asking to be experimented on at this point. And she brings danger to the rest of us as well!”

“What’s done is done, dear heart,” she says, moving from the doorway to sit at the table across from me. With just a wave of her hand she inspires Bastian to sit down as well. With the change of stance comes a near instantaneous change of attitude; the anger that sets his shoulders like a brick wall drains from him just like that, and he slouches into the chair as if suddenly exhausted. After the day we’ve had… well. I’m pretty exhausted too. The sun has just barely set but I could go to bed with little trouble. With someone who self-identifies as an insomniac, that is really saying something. “Now all we can do is deal with the fallout. We’ll figure it out, kids. I don’t want either of you to worry.”

taglist: @kentwrites @jostenwrites @icarianneil @eastwrites @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @super-writer-gal @ashen-crest @starfast @thewolfofthestars @strangerays

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part one.

twenty sentences, made possible by @thethistlegirl and @super-writer-gal!  thanks for the words guys, you’re making a sometimes difficult task a lot easier!

“You literally, truly, honestly, could not think of anything else to say?” Bastian says, just north of a growl. My brother is a man of few words on a regular basis, so it always delves into scary territory when he starts to go off about something. It is scary because he has a lot to say that he bottles up so consistently. It is scary because I don’t hear his voice as much usually as I do when he is angry. And it is scary because it is a surefire sign that he is, in fact, angry. “You didn’t think that you could, I dunno, say that you found it somewhere? By the gods, say that you stole it! Say that you’re a vicious thief that is trying to tear apart the queendom from the bottom up by making sure that the royal family doesn’t have any supplies. Say that you plan on wiping out everything that the Moon Mage has! That would have earned you less attention than this!”

“Bastian,” our mother says. We both turn to look at her. She is standing in the doorway of our household kitchen, a small smile on her face. Most people think that their mother is beautiful, I’m sure, but I have always felt that our mother is on another level. She was pretty when we were kids, all soft angles and warm arms. Her singing voice was perfect for lullabies and nursery rhymes. Her hair was long and soft- she would let me brush it for ages. I learned how to braid standing behind her chair, clumsy fingers growing slowly more deft. When I was ten years old, she bound herself to a Lipal called Reed. Being similar to a bunny with the agility of a cat, Lipal’s are rich in color, and that color was granted to my mother with their bond.

taglist:  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @icarianneil @eastwrites @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @super-writer-gal @ashen-crest @starfast @thewolfofthestars

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part one.

twelve sentences, made possible by @birdywrites and @themillionthdraft! thanks guys! (and auri, i will absolutely add you to the taglist. thank you for your interest!!)

Any put together person might answer, might say that they could head back to that address despite various misgivings about it, about what it is, about what it could mean. Fox is far from put together on a good day. It is not a good day.

In fact, it could be called the worst day that she has had since waking up without any memories, and that’s saying a lot. But everything has simply seemed to go their way since she woke up in that bed not so long ago, though it feels like forever. Fox glances sideways, taking in Maverick’s down turned lips, her furrowed brow, the way that she assesses their surroundings as if constantly on guard against an unknown threat. With their track record, it’s for the best to be on guard. Fox still has several wounds in various stages of healing that stand testament to that.

“We could go check out that store. See what’s going on,” Maverick suggests. Her hands are shoved deep into her pockets as they walk side by side, baggy pants falling loosely over boots that are now long caked with mud. Fox frowns.

taglist (this is an old one so let me know if you want to be added or removed!!):  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @drowsy-quill @basicallyawfulwriting @inkandcinnamon @phoenixmakeswords @themillionthdraft @gracie-speaks

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part four.

twelve sentences, made possible by @asablehart, @froglesbianwriting, and @kitblogsthings!! thanks for the words guys, i really appreciate it! (kit, i added you to the taglist like you asked!! thank you so much for your interest!!)

A police officer.

The lights aren’t flashing, but there’s a nearby streetlight to reveal the blocky letters that span the vehicle’s side. At first Fox dares to think that they are stopping for something completely unrelated to Fox and Maverick. For a second she bargains with herself, reassuring herself that they’re just going to lean out the window and tell the two of them to get on home, whatever that means. That is not what happens.

The cop car comes to a stop several feet ahead of the two of them, and Fox grabs at Maverick’s arm, searching for her hand until she finds it in the other girl’s pocket, and now she has her hand in Mav’s pocket and no matter how weird that might be, she’s not going to take it back. Not right now. For her part, Maverick doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t even pull away. 

A man steps out of the car and Fox takes a hasty step back, dragging Maverick along with her. It can’t be surprising, really. Two girls, all alone in the middle of the night, scared because someone has stopped their car and vacated it, moving closer to them, even if it is a cop.

taglist:  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @drowsy-quill @basicallyawfulwriting @inkandcinnamon @phoenixmakeswords @themillionthdraft @gracie-speaks @themidnxghtwriter​ @kitblogsthings

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part three.

twelve sentences, made possible by @themidnxghtwriter and @nk-writes! thanks guys, i really appreciate it!

But Maverick is not, and that is what makes this a little bit surreal. When Fox looks over again, having been distracted by mud and rocks threatening to trip her into falling, Maverick makes eye contact.

“Okay.”

They do not make it to the store of their own volition for a variety of reasons. The first is that they have no idea where they’re going. Their gps sits somewhere in Sophia’s car, wherever the two of them are right now. Wherever the car is right now. Cell phones of course have been off the table this whole time; Fox hadn’t even thought of grabbing Sophia or Jack’s phone on their way out the door, but maybe she should have. Maybe that would have made it easier.

The second reason is that they’re stopped not long after they’ve made a decision on where they’re going. And they’re stopped by someone who immediately feels Fox with fear for an entirely different reason than Sophia and Jack do.

taglist:  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @drowsy-quill @basicallyawfulwriting @inkandcinnamon @phoenixmakeswords @themillionthdraft @gracie-speaks @themidnxghtwriter​ @kitblogsthings

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part two.

twelve sentences, made possible by @alicewestwater, @my-liminal-spaces, and @themidnxghtwriter! thanks guys! (manu, i will add you immediately to the taglist! thank you for your interest!!)

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” she asks, even if she has no other suggestions to voice. She has been the one to turn the car away. She had been the one to beg Sophia until they left, leaving that store in the rear view mirror even if she hadn’t dared to look. She had been the one filled with fear, anxiety, uncertainty over what this could mean for the two of them. Their only hope had been a shared address etched into both of their driving licenses. Their only hope had turned to dust in front of them. Fox doesn’t feel bad for being nervous, but there is a sense of guilt lurking beneath it all despite her best efforts.

“We’re not going to learn anything by lurking around this town. We’re basically sitting ducks, waiting to get thrown in jail for loitering or something equally pointless. We need a direction, Fox, and we have nowhere else to go.”

One thing about Maverick, Fox thinks, is that she is not one to use names in conversation. Fox has quickly learned that she herself certainly is, slipping names and nicknames easily into a sentence even if she is alone in a room with the person who she is talking to.

taglist:  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @drowsy-quill @basicallyawfulwriting @inkandcinnamon @phoenixmakeswords @themillionthdraft @gracie-speaks @themidnxghtwriter

[wildswrites]

exposure writing. | part six.

twelve sentences, made possible by @inherentlywritten, @blueskyforrest, and @halfmysoul!! thanks for the words guys, you’re making a sometimes difficult task a lot easier!

 “We’re just heading back home now. Couldn’t sleep, so took this one on a walk up to the McDonald’s, you know how it is. Only place to go out here at three in the morning, right?”

An easy assumption, given Sophia’s comments on how small this town is. They’d been lucky to find a motel in the same town, apparently. The idea of it having more than one business open this late at night / early in the morning is just too out there. The cop laughs, and the street light reflects from the name tag on his shirt, revealing the words written there. A. Robertson. Fox distracts herself with thoughts of what that A could stand for. Allan, Arthur, Antonio? Anthony, Augustus, Alexander, Apple, Aggie, Ant? The list grows from silly to absurd, and she brings herself back to the conversation as Aiden/Avery/Andrew replies.

taglist:  @kentwrites @jostenwrites @drowsy-quill @basicallyawfulwriting @inkandcinnamon @phoenixmakeswords @themillionthdraft @gracie-speaks @themidnxghtwriter @kitblogsthings @froglesbianwriting