[stylist] fantasy prompt

Wed Apr 17 23:12:30 UTC 2013

Hmmm. Well, first off; Thank you for reading this piece. I am going to have
to reread it more carefully to see why I did that and I truly appreciate
your comments. Uh, what does 'block quote' mean? Remember, I never learned
any of this stuff. ;) Eve

On Wed, Apr 17, 2013 at 10:29 AM, Donna Hill <penatwork at epix.net> wrote:

> Eve,
> This is almost poetic in the way you use and repeat certain lines and
> concepts. I like it, though I do have one problem in the following
> paragraph
> Block quote
> Only she knew of all her adventures and only she knew of what was to come.
> She remembered, while looking upon the lunar reflection upon the moving
> waters.
> Block quote end
>
> It's the use of the word "upon" twice. I can't quite put a handle on why it
> bothers me when you do the same thing with "only" and that doesn't. I think
> part of it is that  this sentence sounds incomplete, almost gramatically
> wrong, and perhaps the second "upon" adds to that. Perhaps, it's that I
> generally think of the verb "to remember" as more suited to having an
> object, so I'm waiting for what exactly she remembered instead of hearing
> it
> as more like "reflected."
> Donna
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Eve Sanchez
> Sent: Monday, April 15, 2013 11:46 PM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: [stylist] fantasy prompt
>
> Alright, I'll bite. This is my cup  after all. By the way, funny thing; my
> 3 year old grand daughter stole mbag tonight and was swinging it around the
> house. Who needs expensive toys?   Seriously, I am working on a series of
> stories centered around the Fae thaine mythologies and legends from around
> the world. For those that do not know, the Fae are better known as the
> Faeries, the beings of another realm. Well, here is one of my pieces and I
> will warn for those faint of heart, is descriptions of her body. I do not
> find it sexual, but I have been told bers that it is. So in other words;
> you
> might not want to read it if you are worrieut the human anatomy.  I was not
> going to share any of th, but since Bridget brought it up...
>
> Raven
>
>                 Her breasts, as perfect as two peas with tiny nipples
> pointing the way, sat above a slender waist that smoothly blended into
> narrow hips of youthfulness, though she was immortal. Her derriere though,
> was as prominent as her breasts, causing balance and harmony in her form.
> Her skin was a black blue like the panting tongue of a dog from the orient,
> yet it shone more than beautiful on her. There was nothing coarse about
> her.
> Even if one was to stroke her nether hair they would proclaim it as soft
> and
> silky as the above ebony tresses and as glossy black as the feathered wings
> folded across her back.
>
>                 She sat perched on the tiniest of branches of a great
> Northern spruce, looking out upon the tides visible in the glow of the
> moon.
> She sat with one muscular leg folded under her and the other raised so that
> she may rest her hand upon her knee. She watched as the water swelled,
> crested, and rolled in as far as it dared to go, wetting sand and stone
> alike. She watched as the water then receded leaving a trail of bubbles, as
> trapped air from beneath the dampened sand was released. She watched this
> knowing it was only possible because of her thievery. She looked up at the
> stars and moon and smiled, her black eyes twinkling in their glow.
>
>                 This was the tween time, the time between night and day. It
> was the time between dark and light. It was her time. Those who remembered
> her, remembered her as the wise trickster bird. This was fine with her
> though she was more than bird. She did her greatest work in the form of a
> human boy child, but she was more than a human. She was Fae, and this was
> her time. These were her people, her clan, and this was her Mother Earth.
> She was Raven.
>
>                 All around the world, she was known by many names. She was
> a
> trickster, a thief, a messenger, and deity, both Goddess and God. She was
> Raven. She thought of the many stories told about her as she traveled
> through the ages visiting and touching the children of Mother Earth
> throughout its Northern regions, as she preferred, for she only did as she
> wished and went where she desired. Only she knew of all her adventures and
> only she knew of what was to come. She remembered, while looking upon the
> lunar reflection upon the moving waters.
>
>                 Long ago, it is told, she posed as the grandchild of the
> Creator. He who held the moon and stars, the sun and daylight all in
> baskets
> woven with intricate designs, had refused to let them loose. He had
> protected them from all and kept them safely hidden from molestation, but
> she knew that in her chosen form she would prevail. Not even the Great
> Creator could deny his dearest grandson. And so, after much trickery, it
> was
> done. They had been loosed for all the world.
>
>                 The fishermen of the night knew no tides, yet they caught
> their salmon. The hunters of the night knew no moonlight, yet they killed
> their stag. The women of the night knew no sunshine, yet they raised strong
> children. They knew no other way and yet were happy and content. Raven,
> always greedy as we know, was not content. She planned and prevailed. She
> filled the sky with light and gifted the Earth with warmth from the sun.
> Should a thief feel remorse? Raven felt none.
>
>                 Though The People did not normally sanctify thievery or
> deception, they honored Raven and do so still to this day. How could there
> be anger towards someone giving such gifts? The People looked to the moon
> and told of time's passage. They learned to read the stories written within
> the stars. They appreciated the comfort and life provided by the sun and
> lived fully in daylight. The People did not persecute Raven for her crimes.
> No, they honored the wise bird and remember her gifts to this day.
>
>                 She stood, with the wane light of the tween time
> silhouetting her diminutive form and looked to the moon and stars. She felt
> no remorse. As her world was between spiritual and physical, this was her
> time. As she was busiest between the old night and the day she gifted, this
> was her time. As she thought of the creatures that stirred in this tween
> time, neither dark nor light, she knew they were hers and that she loved
> them. This was her time and she was content with it as much as greedy Raven
> could ever be content with anything.
>
>                 With her memories of the past and ideas of what was to
> come,
> she spread her wings and leapt from the bough, falling into the still air,
> until the wind caught her up and held her suspended before she took flight.
> Turning in an arc, she circled a totem with her likeness, the likeness of
> the trickster bird. She is remembered still. She flew counter to the
> rotation of Mother Earth so as to stay ahead of the day. She flew to stay
> within the tween time. This was her time, between what was past and that to
> come, and she had no remorse for her crimes.
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site
> http://www.writers-division.net/
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/3rdeyeonly%40gmail.com
>