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Practice Being

Day 478

Several months ago I purchased the Mouse Guard Roleplaying book. I’ve been reading the Mouse Guard comics for some time now and have generally collected anything David Petersen has written regarding mice. I’m becoming less enthusiastic as he’s not been as prolific as I’d like, but when he’s doing, he’s doing it well.

This past weekend I finally started reading the book. It’s different than I’d expected. Meatier. Not typical. It’s not a roleplaying experience I’m familiar with. I’m not familiar with many.

I’ve not finished reading the manual—I’m only a couple chapters beyond the intro—but I’m impressed with the heavy emphasis on plot driven play. I don’t know how well that works in actual play, but it sure stirs the writing guy in me. Give’s me more ways to think of the things I’ve been thinking but not writing recently. I’m starting to believe that placing a target in front of a character and a time limit for her to obtain that goal may just be a plot. That the random conflicts the author throws up develop meaning through mere presence in the story.

I don’t believe and I’m not saying here that just doing these things makes a story great or even just good, but the do make a story. I still need to practice being, before I can practice being good.

224 words

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The Fourteenth Day

Day 477

This day was the fourteenth day. Jalko placed a carved basswood dragon on a shelf next to eleven others. Her increasing skill evident in the progression from left to right. The first two days of the hunt everyone patted each others backs and cheered as they climbed to their perches or burrowed into their hiding holes. For a time they called to each other when boredom set in, but [the hunt leader] advised against this noise and suggested they whittle quietly or read if they could. Most scoffed, but at the close of the third day many had shavings in their beards or a chess piece to show their friends.

But hiding was uncomfortable and waiting was dull. At full night when [the hunt leader] called them in from their solitary positions around the meadow and they unstaked their sheep no one waved or joked or even looked another’s direction. They filed silently in line to take the trail back to the village. Sem or Norel would quip about the day just before they seperated again and each went to their home or tent. “How about them clouds?” could be funnier than you’d think the tenth time around.

No call came tonight. Jalko wondered if she slept through it and none noticed her missing from the silent procession to [camp name]. She shifted over to her peek but found only blue-black sky becoming black.

239 words

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Six Word Suck

Day 476

I’m not even going to bother writing up a plot-ish thing today. This is week two of the new era of the morning. I’m still working out the kinks for writing time and non-writing things. When a non-writing thing clings to your leg begging for cereal abandoning the morning’s writing happens with ease.

At a recent writers’ group meeting I’d not been able to attend Hemingway’s six word story inspired our April prompt: write a six word story. Prompts that restrict my writing in some way—word count, can’t use certain letters, can’t use certain words—rarely draw my interest. Right now I find value in encouragement to do more of what I want to do; less value in doing what others want me to do. I should probably get over that, but for now I haven’t.

So far all I’ve got is this character driven piece that doesn’t have a real ending:

John, Catherine, Larry; surgeon, blonde, geek.

151 words