After the first pirate attack there were the humiliating murmurs, the way Neils would gently separate them after that. He’s meant for Cypress, people tried to explain to Lonan. Then Xan got the seashell tattoo, pearl-white on his chest.
Just then the windchimes banged together and Lonan appeared with a gull feather tucked behind his ear. He broke in between the three of them, hoisting Meredy and Merle up like cats by the scruff.
Xan turned and watched him until he misstepped, overturning the driftwood and tripping into the sand. “If that’s what you want,” he said.
The Porfirio family record was massive and unevenly bound together, several different papers and diaries all fit into one tome. It gave the impression a hard shake might send everything flying out onto the floor. The cover was decorated with the Porfirio name and golden scrawl, much newer than most of the pages.
Well, that's September down the drain. October, here I come--but first, let's take our monthly pause and look back on all the weird shit we searched in pursuit of being better writers. Personally, I think I've gained a lot of wisdom since August. How about you?
So today we're having the equivalent of a Class Movie Day here on Phantasmagorium. In the spirit of rest and relaxation--and extreme discomfort--I thought we'd watch "Possibly in Michigan," a ten-minute short film directed by Cecelia Condit.
It's that time of month again, kids. What are your most interesting (or most suspect) searches for the sake of writing? Here are some of mine.
Well, it's that time of month again: time to review all the bizarre writing research you've had to do.
"Oh, go get disproven, would you."
In honor of folks in mythology, and all the ways their numerous relationships went to hell, here are some prompts for dysfunctional unions. Use these as themed inspirations, line inserts, or anything that gives your inner writer the right kick.