Between Genius and... Genius! A response to Goggles and Lace's Writing Prompt

“You're kidding right?” I growled into the communicator and shook my head, wavinga hand at one of the gremlins about my lab. He was holding some sort of paperwork, but quite frankly, I didn't care. This investor bullshit is not for me. “Fine. We'll have a prototype up and running within the next couple of weeks. I'll need more... Yes. Send a shipment ASAP. And not ASAP as in 'as soon as you please'. The traditional version of the acronym will do just fine.” I hung up before more demands could be made of me. I appreciate rich idiots like one enjoys ditzy blond play things. As long as they're sitting looking pretty and not speaking, it's 'all good in the hood'. I sighed and ran a hand through my ever increasingly longer hair. I should get a hair cut...

“Master!” I sighed. These little genetic manipulated mutations might have been a mistake...

“What?!” I snapped, squeezing the bridge of my nose. I was told once it fights oncoming headaches. Whoever said that was a fucking liar. The gremlin coughed and stood as straight as it could in front of me, thrusting paperwork at my free hand. I took it, bringing the yellowing papers up to my face for a closer look. It was plans... Plans I hadn't drawn up. I adjusted my goggles and peered closer at the papers.

“I made a few adjustments... With Mistress Annie's help...” His voice was raspy and sounded like that of an overworked child. High pitched and seeking approval while having this annoying undertone of whine that shot through me like nails on a... well you get my point.

“Ahh.. Annie was here today was she?” That girl was becoming too smart for her own good. I always advocated killing the girl. But no! Now she was attached to me.

I grumbled as I walked over to the wall of switches and levers. I left the decoy wall there for funsies. Felt like every mad scientist lab should have one, and what the hell, the gremlins love it. A mirror hung at eye level off of a piece of rawhide. I checked it thoughtfully, needing a moment to inspect myself before heading upstairs. Adopted child or not, she tended to be upset when I came upstairs looking like I haven't slept in 3 days... or had it been 4? Who knew at this point. The sun doesn't reach down here anyway. My eyes looked sunken in and closer to black then my dark brown eyes ever should. Pale. Sickly, she'd say. Healthy, I'd argue as always. No chance of skin cancer in the dark. Should tie my hair back. I stretched out my hand and a gremlin deposited a brush with a piece of string on the end. Perfect.

“Thank you Cedric.”

“Eyown, master.” I looked down and it was in fact. Cedric was taller. Less heavy around the middle. Also less likely to snap at a moments notice. I nodded.

“Apologies Eyown. Cedric was just right here.”

“ 'E got hungry. Went out to yard to catch dinner.” I chuckled as I tied my hair back.

“Very well. You should eat too. Go run along. I'll be back after I take care of Annie.” He nodded and galloped off towards the gate. That's two.. where was... Ah. I looked in the mirror more carefully at the pipes that led to the generator. Hanging upside down was the tallest of the bizarre little creatures, sound asleep. I nodded and stepped to the side, pulling the one functional lever on the wall, revealing my lift. It was a solid piece of steel with only two levers. One to go up, and one to go down. And it only went between my lab and the false fireplace in my bedroom. I took the lift, looking around the lab once more for good measure. Two of them outside and one snoring. And nothing out of place. Good enough to stop for dinner.

I opened the door to my chamber to see Annie, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Father.” Her voice was as flat as her stare. Over the glasses, and stern. I sighed and brought a smile to my lips.

“Yes, dear. How was school today?” I walked over and hugged her gently, though there was no physical response from her.

“I didn't go.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I already know everything they can teach me. I showed Mrs. Boudain how to correct her nuclear fission equations. She's kinda dumb.” I had to chuckle. Mrs. Boudain had invented half those equations, and the other half she stole from her late husband. She never could get those ironed out quite right. It was at that point she had turned to villanry, deciding that if her late husband, Mr. Theodias Boudain was dumb enough to get himself killed saving the world, she'd better be on the side that lived longer. Villanry it was. “Why do I have to go?” Her voice cut through my thoughts and I stopped looking down at the 12 year old.

“Because I said so.” The fall back answer for every lame parent there ever was. I was quickly becoming one of those.

“Seriously? How about a real reason?” She blew her bangs out of her freckled face as the took to the marble banister, sliding down expertly. I walked quietly down he stairs starring at her while I thought.

“Because. You could be the smartest little child there ever was, the strongest little girl, or the most evil, however, you can still learn a thing or two about humanity within those walls.” I raised a brow, pulling a small pair of spectacles out of my pocket, and replacing my goggles with them. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, letting her shoulders fall in an overly dramatic fashion.

“Humans suck” She said slouching further as she crossed her arms.

“That may be true Miss Annie, but that's not up for debate. You're going to school tomorrow, even if I have to have Cedric bring you.” She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out. “Then it's settled.” The door gong sounded, a series of smaller bells going off through the hallway. “Go set the table, I need to answer this.” I had been expecting someone. Annie frowned and nodded, slumping off towards the dining room. I turned, footsteps echoing down the ornate hallway. I should invest in carpeting... though I feel I come to that conclusion every time I walk the halls. I pulled a lever by the door and stood, watching it swing open slowly. A woman stood before me, leaning against the doorway, holding her side. A slight smirk graced her features as she stepped through the door way, dropping her pack. She was a tall girl, blond hair and striking blue eyes, but that wasn't why she was interesting to me. She opened her pack, wordlessly handing me a couple of brass keys on a chain. From that very same pack came a brass box.

“Good.” I smiled and took the box under my arm, turning to head back to the dining room. “Clean up upstairs. Dinner will be ready in five minutes.” I heard a soft whimper. I turned, eyes set ina glare over my glasses. She stood up as straight as she could and nodded. I turned and continued my trek.

“Was that Anya?? What'd she bring you?? Is it that? What's in the box?” The child's eyes and ears missed nothing, a wonderful and also wholly loath-able attribute. She pried at my arm in an attempt to release the box from it. I shook my head and slapped her hands lightly.

“I thought you outgrew this stage years ago.” I muttered and placed the box down on the table, sitting in front of it. It wasn't ticking, so the mechanism was deactivated. A plus. The keys in my hand fit into two locks on the box perfectly. The lid popped open with a soft hiss. Annie jumped behind me and looked over my shoulder as I pulled the piston from within it. Small, much smaller than the box itself, but none the less the part I needed. There was some miscellaneous crud in there as well, including a few specialty bolts for the dragon automaton I was tinkering with in my spare time.

Anya reappeared, now dressed more formally, bandages wrapped tightly around her waist and ribs. She smiled softly at Annie, who ran to her and hugged her, a bit too tightly. Anya gasped and Annie froze. “I'm sooooo sorry Anya!” She signed quickly as well as said it, backing off, a bit surprised. Anya nodded and patted her on the head signing “It'll be alright little one.” She bowed her head to me and sat down.

One of the help appeared around the corner and brought a tray with three meals piping hot on them. He was the only one that could cook around here. Might as well make use of it.

“Let's eat.” I smiled to the girls. For that one moment, life seemed normal. Projects underway, deadlines to fulfill, a girl set straight again, and one recovering from a successful mission. Sometimes it's good to be evil.  

Speak Out with your Geek Out: Costumes

Ok, ok. I'm sure you guys were expecting my first Speak Out post on gaming, writing, or something of that ilk, because I talk about it CONSTANTLY. However. There are a few things with which I frequently geek out over. One of them is costuming.

If you're one of my close friends, this is no surprise to you. I've done a few costumes in the past for friends, not in the least bit excluding my work on a Final Fantasy costume extravaganza. My interests in costuming have deep roots in my love of theater and the ability of clothing to transform a person. Sometimes all it takes is a new hat to make an outfit a thousand times better. Ok, maybe not a thousand times, but pretty darn close. Beyond a simple outfit change is the mental change that's taken on by the person to sort of become that figure that they're representing.

My personal experience in the world of costuming has been short but entirely fulfilling. A few years back I created the aforementioned final fantasy costumes for myself and two of my friends for Halloween. My costume alone took about 72 hours of almost non-stop work, and countless hours on the other two. By the end, Cloud, Tifa, and Lulu emerged to a Halloween party, with rounds of compliments and a ton of congratulating. I even got mentioned in Cloud's Best Costume acceptance speech. It was all a lot of fun and to be honest something I wouldn't mind repeating. I work on costumes for Ren Faires on the side, mostly for myself. Occasionally I'll work on something for someone else, with no pay, but entirely for the love of working with the fabric and seeing the 'customer's' thrilled face at the end of it. Watching them go through fittings and adjustments, so it fits them perfectly is great.

I've always be fascinated by this sort of change. Just watching shy individuals go from their day to day to these amazing characters all because of some make-up, hair, and wardrobe. This sort of change is expected of actors and stage-folk, however the change is most remarkable from those that you have friends of, most likely. Or at the very least, you've heard them whispered about in the shadowy corners of the gaming and convention worlds. Cosplayers and LARPers. No? Oh ok, just no idea of what they are. Time for a brief explanation.

Cosplayers are “short for 'costume play',is a type of performance art in which participants don costumes and accessories to represent a specific character or idea.” This sort of performance (and yes, it is a performance) can range from Halloween to any particular convention you attend. Often times at these conventions there are prizes for best cosplay for the weekend, with many contests and events for the costumed to parade around and show off their handy work.

LARPers are “Live action role players”. These individuals dress up in costume, must like the cosplayers , but take it a step further acting out their characters and recording their hits, misses, successes and failures within the game environment. More often than not these people can be found in groups over the weekends in the woods with their friends, practicing their craft. I should say right off the bat, that while most people have some degree of disdain in the gaming world for these people, I don't share in that opinion. Hell, I think it's great! Have I done it? No. Will I ever? Probably not. Why, you ask? Why don't you?

Regardless on your feelings on either of these categories, the idea of dressing up and acting is not a new one nor a terribly novel concept. It's trans-formative powers are amazing and quite well known throughout the world. Another wonderful example of the costuming art? Drag Queens. Love them! No really. I think it's amazing. I really do. I've watched a few on tv and then so many tutorials online about how to cover and fix and conceal things that, if I were a man, I'd have tried it by now. Helps that I have a ton of makeup. Another one of those; if you know me, you wouldn't be shocked moments.

Costuming and makeup offer the world a chance to see yourself in a different light, potentially a more positive one that will drive you to bring these sort of behavior that you may want to make slight changes in in your day to day. So think about it the next time you start your day on a sour note. Maybe throw on your favorite shirt, or spend a minute or two extra fluffing your hair. Something little that can help transform your attitude and the attitude of those around you.

Namaste,

Jessi

I am only responsible for three of these costumes, but
the party was amazing. Great memories.

To Write From the World of Dreams

“Dreams are a succession of images, sounds or emotions that pass through the mind during sleep. The content and purpose of dreams are not fully understood, though they have been a topic of speculation and interest throughout recorded history”~Wikipedia

The idea of writing from your dreams is not a new one. In fact there are several books on the topic, prescribed through many creative writing courses all over the world in modern curriculum. With that being said, I'd like to take this Monday's blog post to discuss just that.

The Imagination Unbound

One of the lovely things about dreams and the lucid state, is that in parts, things flow together. They cause one to almost feel as though there is nothing more natural than a potted petunia floating through the dangerous purple sky. It doesn't matter that it simply doesn't make sense, but allows the mind to meander in and out of the lovely absurdism that is created when our minds relax. The simplistic Dali-esque version of our brains actually speaks volumes as to who we are as a person. No. Stop right there. I'm not telling you that Freud was right and that you have an inherent crush on your mother/father and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm more getting at the fact that, the things you dream about are relevant to your life. These images can often be helpful reminders to the things that populate the waking world as well as our dreams.

Let your imagination that populates your dreams, flood into your writing, whether it be a journal (dream journal, for example) or your works of fiction. Especially your works of fiction. Imagination is your greatest tool. Use it!

Dream a Little...Awful Dream

Like dreams, sometimes there are bad stories. Bad dreams leave us rocked with an uneasy, fearful, and sometimes dumbfounded. These however can be launching points for some great stories. Why not take that moment in your dream where everything went wrong and use it as a pivotal moment in your next short? Or take the moment where things came to a sudden head and then you were left sitting on the side of the street, eating ice cream as a moment of peace within your storyline?

All of the oddities and awful things that happen in dreams can be used. Bad stories, give us things we can use, even if we have to trash the world around it. Why not use our awful, very bad, no-good dreams in a similar fashion?

Tell Your Inner Critic to 'Put a Sock In It'

Another of the great aspects about dreams and the dreaming, is that very rarely can you stop the dream. You can't just grab the reins and suddenly you're in control. Sometimes you can, but not often.

The lesson here is that sometimes, you just need to get that voice of doubt and your inner critic out of the way. These are the voices that keep you from achieving the impossible within the confines of your story. Take the story and just write. In the spirit of many writing competitions, like NaNoWriMo; just write. Ignore that inner voice. Seriously. What does that guy know anyway? You want a wombat themed race of semi-sentient individuals to overthrow the piranha pirates of Bangladesh? Do it. Flying naked mole rats. Why not? A lazy ferret to motivate your main? Ok well for some of us, that's a little closer to truth than fiction.

So write. Write all you can. Use your dreams and your imagination to guide you. Step back from the rules set forth by grammar and good taste, and begin! Those rules will be there when you're done. You can always go back through after and begin the refining process (psst it's called editing for a reason). Don't take all of your wackiness out of it. Be your crazy, dream possessed self and write what ever comes your way.

~Writing Task for the Week~
Are you an avid dreamer? Do you only dream once in a blue moon? Either way, keep a notepad next to your bed, and anything you find intriguing about your dreams, jot it down as soon as you wake up. Story seeds come from interesting places, and your dreams will often be the source for more than a few, whether you realize it or not.

Cheers,
Jessi

Written in the Stars

We sit quietly on the edge of the porch watching the stars twinkle in the distance. I look over and you're smiling, softly, to yourself, what's going through your head I don't know. It doesn't matter for once. I let my fingers slide to your hand and squeeze gently, just reminding you I'm there. The stars the sparkle down at us, showing us the future in their cryptic flashes of light. I just want to know what it's like to be out there.

I let out a long breath and smile, feeling the warmth in my heart growing, encompassing my chest. I feel an arm drape over my shoulders and pull me close. My head rolls to the side, looking at you, letting your deep blue eyes search through me. I don't know what they find, your gaze is still a mystery to me. I feel like it's one of those things that won't ever change, regardless of how long I know you. You lean forward closer and capture my lips in a soft kiss, causing a smile to; once again, erupt on my face. I return the kiss and pull back just far enough to rest my head on your shoulder. I want to tell you how amazing it is, that someone could make me smile again, like that. My smile betrays me, as I don't even notice it happening again. We haven't spoken in a few minutes, but so much has been said in that silence.

The clouds pass and I pull myself closer, snuggling into your shoulder, wrapping my arms around you. I don't want this moment to end. It's amazing to find someone you have so much in common with. The universe is funny that way. From a chance meeting, you can find someone that simply makes you smile every time you're with them. So far so good. I'm still smiling, and in my mind this moment will remain as perfect as I've seen it.

It's these little moments of serenity that get me through. I know we parted on a bad note, but... I just want you to know that I love you, Eijin. I'm joining up with an experimental program. Hopefully it will help bring you home. If not, then I'll die trying to get to you.

From your love,
Aurona

P.S. If you're reading this, then I have you back. If not... I'm still searching. Soon. Soon you'll read this. I promised myself that.

Moving Forward with Inkwell and Looking Towards Camp

Hello all!

Ok so: Here's the deal. We worked out the next couple of seminars for Inkwell and thus, the next couple of of webinars for you folks! They are as follows:

July 11th: How to put the fake science into Science Fiction
July 18th: First Sentences
July 25th: Focus on Poetry

That being said and out of the way, Camp NaNoWriMo's first session is coming up! Starting July 1st (i.e. Friday), the frenzy that is the NaNoWriMo atmosphere will pick up in full force. Once again, ML's aren't required to do anything for the camp sessions but, I will be posting little writing exercises and directing people on how to keep the momentum going through the month, re-posting old NaNo pep talks, here on the blog. I truly believe in the creative power of the human spirit and look forward to another crazy session with you all.

To get things started, I would like to put forth a challenge. Even if you generally don't participate in NaNoWriMo (and I completely understand if you don't, it's nuts, but so much fun) think about the idea of potentially doing it just for a week. Devoting yourself to a word count goal and achieving it in that time frame. Since the month long version of NaNo calls for 50k words, why not try for 12,500, in a week. It will give you a couple good chapters worth of material and get the creative juices flowing towards something great.

Starter Scene: Why is your character staring at this bridge? What does it mean to the character? Is it significant at all?

The possibilities are endless...

Camp NaNoWriMo and Some Other NaNo Info

I know, I know. Thursday isn't on the normal update schedule. But this bears the extra post for the week.

The Offices of Letters and Light has decided to run a summer program for NaNoWrimo! It's called Camp NaNo and for those of you that are usually swamped with finals and the like during November, this is perfect for. Also perfect for those that aim for two novels a year! Well really, it's perfect for anyone with a mild writing obsession. And it's more excuse for me to send out emails encouraging you all to keep on writing!

Camp NaNoWriMo from the Desk of the OLL

Greetings, Wrimos!

If you're holding hot coffee, I'd recommend you put it down. If you're standing, please sit.

I have potentially explosive news: we're launching Camp NaNoWriMo this summer! As in, mere months from this very moment!

Some of you may be wondering, "What is this camp you speak of? Will there be mosquitoes?"

This camp-themed version of National Novel Writing Month enables participants to write a novel in a month other than November. You bring the words and we'll meet you there with the encouragement, tracking tools, and a tent!

For everyone who has ever wanted to do NaNo multiple times a year—or for those who simply can't make a November novel work—welcome to Camp NaNoWriMo! The plot bunnies will frolic, the sun will warm your half-baked plot, and yes... there will probably be mosquitoes.

To pay for all these building materials, we're holding a summer fundraising drive starting May 25. More awesome goodies at more levels than ever before! (Two words: bumper sticker. For the first time in NaNo history!)

Stay tuned for more camp news and details about the upcoming fundraiser. In the meantime, I've still got some canoes to hollow out.

The fundraiser is a pretty big here. Once again even if you participate in Camp, YOU DO NOT have to donate. I know how poor we all are and I won't tell you that you have to, ever. If you feel the need to do so, have at it. That being said, as soon as I know more about Camp NaNo I'll be posting it here, and organizing little writing exercises and games to run through the program so keep a heads up on that. What kind of ML would I be without helping orchestrate the madness?

Offers still valid from NaNo 2010

Did you win NaNoWriMo? Congrats! you have some offers that are still valid if you did, so go on over to NaNo Winners and check it out. You have until June 30th to collect your CreateSpace proof copy of your NaNo masterpiece. Also available is a 50% off deal on Scrivner, which helps with planning, note keeping, and generally awesome organizational software. It's not only for Mac users anymore! There is an open beta test for Windows, so check it out, before you dive in and buy it. You will have to be logged in with your winning ID to collect the codes, so keep that in mind when licking the link.

First Writing Challenge

Camp NaNo hasn't started yet, but this be your first official 'task' for the summer writing season. C'mon! Play along. If you have a blog, post your link to your entry in the comments section and I'll happily link you, advertising on my social media for every entry. So without further ado...

This particular writing exercise is from Writing Excuses, a great blog I follow on a weekly basis. They have great prompts and podcasts to keep the creative juices flowing.

Writing Prompt: Start with a highly magical, pseudo-medieval fantasy setting. Now… how do you deal with baldness?

Enjoy, and keep checking back for NaNoWriMo news as the details are revealed!

Namaste,
Jessi

Exercise 4 from Goggles and Lace: A Different Perspective

(I should preface this by saying that this particular scene was incredibly difficult to write but, yes, it really did happen, though certain dialogue etc that i was physically not present for has been fictionalized, obviously. I wish I could have written something else, but this is what leapt to mind.)

"I'm doing the right thing." I sighed and pushed a blond lock of hair backwards from my face. I looked in the rear view mirror of my car. The cruiser was right behind me as we pulled up to the ivory colored house. On the outside everything looked so tranquil. So normal. I took a deep breath and got out. Officer Flannigan nodded and patted me on the back. I rang the doorbell.

"Just a minute" I sighed and my hear drops. They don't know I'm coming yet. I'm always nervous at these things. But it's for the best. I have to keep telling myself that otherwise I'll end up second guessing. I can't afford that here. I glanced at the driveway anxiously. Her husband wasn't home. Maybe it would be easier.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Peterson" My rehearsed lines seemed to literally fall out of my head as I looked at the woman, holding her 6 month old little girl. I coughed and stepped into the house, Officer Flannigan behind me.

"What's going on?"

"Based on the evidence, from your neighbors, doctors, and what I've observed here in your home, I'm coming to collect your children and bring them to foster care, pending a trial."

"What?!?"

"Please. Get the other two children and have them pack some clothes." I looked past her to see the eldest of the children sitting on the stairs. I smiled at her and I was met with the hatred I'd only seen out of grown adults. I reached out to her in vain and she bolted up the stairs, slamming her door.

"I don't understand!" The mother began crying and making mention of something but I could have cared less about her. Her case file had her diagnosed as manic depressive with mild adult ADD, a lifetime of verbal and physical abuse from her deceased father, and a laundry list of other issues. Besides, I've honestly heard most excuses before. As with all my cases, I was far more concerned with the children involved than the parents. I looked over to Officer Flannigan and he nodded, heading upstairs to go get the little girl. The middle child, a boy of 4, was already downstairs, playing quietly, a giant bruise on his forehead, from what they claimed was an accident at church. The mother was packing the two younger childrens' clothes. Officer Flannigan reappeared with the eldest under his arm. She was crying. I had to look away. The mother was yelling but at this point I had almost completely blocked her out. The rest was a blur...

We made it out to my car, the children packed into the back seat, their bags in the trunk. I looked up to the rear view, starring right back at me was the eldest. She starred at me defiantly. She would get over this... Move onto a better life, with a family that treated her well.

"Do you have anything you want to say, Jess?"

"You're a bitch."

Failure and its Inherent Sexuality

The idea of failure is something that has lingered for too long on many of our minds. Whether it's failure at a story or failure in a relationship, or whatever; we've all experienced it. And it an be completely and utterly heart breaking. Then there are some who are better than the rest of us that an find happiness in their misery. They come out of the shit pile looking fresh and clean; generally with a book deal chronicling their experience with that failure. While I'm certainly not the first to think this it's something that's been on my mind almost as often as the idea of failure.

I'm 25. I work as a middle manager at a retail chain. I have a degree from the Umass school system in Writing Rhetoric and Communication. How do I not have a job I can look at and say, "You know what Jess? You've done well."

I'm 25. I -had- a fiance. It was the sort of thing I could have easily continued on with and continued the pattern set down by so many before me, my parents included. They were happy for years. I remember that. But they've always resented each other. I remember that too. I can't set myself up for a life full of resentment. He'll be a good man for the right woman, I know it. I was not that woman however.

I'm 25. I live at home with my parents because my job doesn't pay me enough to pay back my student loans and to move on with my life.

I'm 25. And fairly lost. The GPS doesn't seem to be helping.

On the flip side...

I'm 25 and I know my self worth. I know for a fact I'm worth more than what is being given to me. And it isn't because of the self esteem parenting that so many people were raised on. The belief that we're all special snowflakes that can "save the world". I don't think I am. But gods be damned if I'm going to let that stop me from trying to one day be a wife, mother, and successful author.

I'm 25. I have a great family. Not only biologically but I'm incredibly lucky in the fact that I can't count on one hand all of my close friends. There are many I trust and keep around me as closely as I can.

I'm 25. I run a writing group that feeds and maintains the creative spirit in the community. Sadly my partner in this is in FL, but we continue on, not in spite of her absence but because when she comes home, she'll have another home to return to. The creative spirit is something that should never falter even within the confines of a modern world. One word: magic.

I'm 25 and I'm lost. But damn if I'm not having fun finding my way.

Remember: Even if your life isn't going as it's planned out in your head, remember that you have made a difference in your world. Even if it's a microcosm you did it. The road you're paving is there for a reason, so why is it?

Failure is a very sexy notion in the modern vernacular and while I could go on for a long time on the subject, I'm going to instead link you to a good blog post on it. I was surfing the internet at 4 in the morning, and found this Why is Failure so Sexy? by Tim Stevens. He's a minister somewhere and while some of his posts are a little heavy handed, I thought this one was very well written. Check it out.

Namaste,
Jessi

Next time on A BA in BS: The importance of editing as demonstrated by reworking a recent blog post.

Inkwell Imaginings Webinar: Romantic Tension

A quick few tips on how to add in romantic tension into your novel. I'll have another up next week ^_^ topic? i'll tell you more about that later. for now, time to get on to work.

<3 Jessi

Inkwell Webinar: 6 Elements of a Scene

Hey guys,
I'm trying a new format for the workshop series that Kit and I are running through Inkwell. Since Not all of our members can make it to every meeting or to the workshops I'm going to be posting them here in videos for all to see, and it gives me a recorded version I can reference later.

Enjoy!

Also I should have a flash fiction piece up for you all soon enough. =]