bdwilson: (NaNoWriMo 2013)

The Absolute Write Water Cooler is running a blog chain for NaNoWriMo 2013.

View all the participants at the forum post here.


Week Five Excerpts

orion_mk3 | AshleyEpidemicamaliegreen | RhondaParrish | sunflowerrei


Burnside smiled at Lorne. “I think you do.” Before he could answer, she nodded her head, and Sean saw his aura change. The silver gathered in the centre of his chest, as a red light built in hers. The two shot together, twining into a single string that looked like yarn. The moment the connection was complete, the silver turned red as well, and Lorne went limp, his aura dimming.

“No,” Sean said, as he tried to keep him from hitting the ground, but he couldn’t hold him up. “Stop this, are you insane?”

“It’d be easier, wouldn’t it,” she said, and shook her head. “If all the people whose priorities didn’t match your own were simply crazy, but they’re not.”

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from bdwilson.ca

bdwilson: (NaNoWriMo 2013)

The Absolute Write Water Cooler is running a blog chain for NaNoWriMo 2013.

View all the participants at the forum post here.


Week Four Excerpts

orion_mk3 | AshleyEpidemic | amaliegreen | RhondaParrish | sunflowerrei

Jonathon staggered into his apartment, and dropped his keys in the direction of the dish by the door. When they hit the ground, he decided he didn’t care. This was beginning to become a habit. He was beginning to think he’d never come home able to walk straight. His neighbours probably thought he was a drunk.

“Promise me you’ll go to right to sleep,” William said as he picked up the keys. Jonathon wasn’t sure what to say to that. William had been running race times in his head all night, and if he was trying the blocking tricks of the others, he really wanted to make sure Jonathon didn’t pick up on something. That pretty much guaranteed the request wasn’t as simple as it looked.

“Of course. Not like I’m fit to do anything else right now.” It was easier to lie when he didn’t have to look at him. He left the lights off and closed the drapes.

“Yeah, right.” It didn’t sound like he was convinced, but he accepted it anyway. “Tylenol?”

“I’ll get it, thank you.” He dropped down on the couch, and then waved William toward the door. “I appreciate the ride, but if I have to hear the Olympic races one more time, I’m going scream.”

William grinned. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Jonathon listened to him as he walked down the hall, but William had gotten better at this over the past month. He kept it going until he’d driven out of range. It was impressive, but inconvenient. He wanted to know what William had planned.

Still, it wasn’t enough to force him to follow the orders to go to bed, even if it did sound attractive right now. He had to accept that this was a part of his life now. Either he learned to work around the pain, or he gave up. He wasn’t ready to do that yet.

What he needed was some defences. The others had managed to find a way to block him. Why couldn’t he find ways to block them? If nothing else, he had learned that the mindscape could be manipulated by his own thoughts. He stretched out on the couch and tried to find an image that would signify protection. To his chagrin, the first thing that came to mind was a Hazmat suit, right out of a virus apocalypse movie. He felt ridiculous right away, until he realized the static was muffled.

Hope sprung up in his chest, and he concentrated on the image until he couldn’t hear the noise anymore. It was as silent as the coma wing, but not as disturbing. This wasn’t a silence he could fall into, it was more like a bubble. It was almost the most comforting experience he’d had in the past year. The only one that was better was when he was with Sean.

The disappointment almost punctured his suit, but he held on. It was better to let that go. He had known what he was getting into. There had never been a sign that Sean felt the same way about him as he felt about Sean. It was always the danger of his entering a relationship, and this time it had finally done the damage he’d been afraid of.

Jonathon shook it off. That was just a distraction right now. He needed to focus on what he was doing. As soon as he had a firm grip on the image of the suit, he pushed it into the back of his mind. Now he needed to make sure it held up while he was distracted. Otherwise he’d still be trapped in his room.

The only way he could think of to test it, was to go looking for Lorne again. It was a risk, but it wasn’t like he didn’t do that on a regular basis anyway. If he stopped, Lorne would get suspicious. Even with the last time, he knew Jonathon was more stubborn than that.

Relaxing again, Jonathon reached out with his mind, and followed the same path he’d used to find Lorne before. He wasn’t surprised to find that this time it didn’t led him to his brother. Still, it was a start. He used the initial starting point, and searched around for some sort of trace. It was like trying to find something in the dark. His thoughts skimmed over the area, searching for anything that might hold a trace of his brother.

To his surprise, he found something. It was an impression, a thought wrapped and left in the corner, holding a family picture from when their mother was alive. Lorne had carried the real thing in his wallet for years. He might even still have it, though he hadn’t let any of them see it in years. It was bright as a pebble in moonlight, the family connection making it far too easy to find.

He might as well have emblazoned it, “This is a trap.” But it didn’t matter, because Jonathon was going to pick it up anyway, as Lorne knew he would.

His mental touch picked up the photograph. A wave of sadness and longing washed over him, and he was overwhelmed by the sense of loss. It resonated with his own mourning for their mother, and in the connection he felt himself next to Lorne.

you’re too predictable.

Mirrored from bdwilson.ca

bdwilson: (NaNoWriMo 2013)

The Absolute Write Water Cooler is running a blog chain for NaNoWriMo 2013.

View all the participants at the forum post here.


Week Three Excerpts

orion_mk3 | AshleyEpidemic | amaliegreen | meowzbark | RhondaParrish | sunflowerrei


“You shouldn’t do that.”

Jonathon spun around at the sound, and discovered he was no longer alone. Standing an arms length away, her head tilted  at a full right angle, was a beat-up Raggedy Anne doll. Her red yarn hair was pulled back into pig tails, but stained with black ink. The stitching that should have made her face was removed, leaving pinprick marks that have been covered over with shaky felt pen. Her dress was frayed and there were holes in the white apron. Only her shoes were intact, but the leather seemed weighted, dragging as she took a step forward.

“Toys belong in the toy box.”

“Is that what’s in here? A toy?”

The doll nodded, her head lobbing forward right to her chest and then all the way to her back. Jonathon shuddered as she took another slow step forward, but kept his hand on the unlocked lid. “I was told Tessy was in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. After all, the box was the only place in the mindscape where she could be.

“Tessy toy,” she said it in a sing song voice that should not have been nearly as creepy as it was.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from bdwilson.ca

bdwilson: (NaNoWriMo 2013)

This year I've join the the NaNo Excerpt Blog Chain 2013 over at the Absolute Write Water Cooler.

Every Friday this month, I'll be posting an excerpt from my in progress NaNo novel.


Week Two Excerpts

orion_mk3 | robjvargas | AshleyEpidemic | vertigo78 | amaliegreen | meowzbark | RhondaParrish | sunflowerrei


Brett didn’t need any help figuring out the computers, and even if he had, Jonathon didn’t have the expertise necessary to assist. Instead, he sat back in the chair, closed his eyes, and tried to follow along with his progress without actively picking the thoughts out of his mind.

At first it seemed as though Sean’s IT department had been correct: there was nothing on the system. As Brett continued to poke around, however, he started noticing irregularities that meant nothing to Jonathon, but seemed to indicate a problem. Something about file sizes and current system resources, and how was that even possible?

When Brett started to chase down the various symptoms, Jonathon became aware of another chain of thoughts, acting in direct reaction to his. He remembered Sean saying it had seemed like the files were adjusted because someone knew he had seem the improper timestamps. If that someone was watching the monitor, they might be seeing the same things that were tipping Brett off. But for Jonathon to be catching their thoughts without reaching out, that person had to be close. In the building at the very least.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from The Notebook

bdwilson: (NaNoWriMo 2013)

The Absolute Write Water Cooler is running a blog chain for NaNoWriMo 2013.

View all the participants at the forum post here.

Week One Excerpts

orion_mk3 | robjvargas | AshleyEpidemic | vertigo78 | amaliegreen | RhondaParrish | sunflowerrei


Jonathon Kincaid slouched back in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room and rubbed at the headache forming behind his eyes. On the other end of the cell phone call, his older brother sighed, and tried to reassure him.

“I told you, it’s not a big deal,” William said.

“Yes, but you haven’t explained is why, if it isn’t important, you’re sending me here.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t important, I said it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Now you sound like Lorne.”

“Shut up.”

It was a sore spot, Jonathon knew, but one he couldn’t seem to stay away from. “Then stop dissembling and just tell me why I’m here.”

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from bdwilson.ca

bdwilson: (Exercises)

Lorne sat on the window sear and pressed his palm against the surface of the glass. On the street below Brett waited at the edge of their walk. William jogged down to meeting him — running late, as always. Before they disappeared, Brett waved up at, and William ran backwards a few steps to give him a sloppy salute. Lorne rolled his eyes at his oldest brother, but still smiled. Just like he’d smiled when Jonathon stopped by before school — on time, as always — to swap his library books for new ones. They remembered he was there, at least.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from The Notebook

bdwilson: (Exercises)

“Don’t you ever feel any shame?”

William had asked it, of course. The only one in the family who ever really gave Lorne shit. And, of course, his answer was an arrogant, “Why should I?”

Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from The Notebook

Profile

bdwilson: (Default)
BD Wilson

February 2017

S M T W T F S
   1234
567 8910 11
12131415161718
1920 2122232425
262728    

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 09:41 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios