| Seeking Elora An indie novelist muses about writing, society, and the arts. | | by | |
|
|
Item Size: 572 Entries Created: 9:15pm on 01-03-2007 Modified: 10:26am on 01-16-2010 | |
|
![Merry Christmas 2009 [#1628263]
house in ornament](http://www.Writing.Com/main/trans.gif) ![Merry Christmas 2009 [#1628263]
house in ornament](http://images.writing.com/main/images/action/display/ver/1261257742/item_id/1628263.jpg)
CNote images - free to send off-site: " Ornament Greetings" 
(photos rotate)
"Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn't come from a store."
Theodore Geisel
I'm rather eclectic ... an indie but fairly conservative, somewhat opinionated but open to intelligent discussion, and a rule-follower unless I feel the need to break them for good reason. You never know what you might find. I generally don't know what I'll write here until I sit down to do it.
Elora is Latin for light. I'm a light-seeker. Elora is my muse.
This is my second blog at WDC. You'll find the first here:
" Avant-Garde Aspirations"
"How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live."
~Henry David Thoreau
My December Writing.com activities:
creating Christmas CNotes!
What I'm currently reading:
Thin Ice by Liana Laverentz
Always Looking Up by Michael J. Fox
A Night In Twisted River by John Irving
Keeping Faith by Joyce Carol Oates
Pumpkinnapper by Linda Banche
The Death of Adam by Marilynne Robinson
Short Book Reviews: " Reading Notes" 
Highlighted Items:
"On Our Own: Indie-publishing Group" by Voxxylady
"Indie Publishing: Method and Madness" by Voxxylady
"Computer Savvy? Novice? Just Need Help?" by vivacious
"Invalid Item" by A Guest Visitor
"If this work seems so threatening, this is because it isn't simply eccentric or strange, but competent, rigorously argued, and carrying conviction."
Jacques Derrida
My Website: 
http://www.lkhunsaker.com
"Be yourself.
Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe,
shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish."
John Jakes
![Animated Tree 06 [#1190260]
original animation](http://www.Writing.Com/main/trans.gif)
|
| 1. The Beginning of my Nano Novel | ID #674646 |
| Posted: 11-3-2009 @ 11:20 pm EST |
|
Remember, it's first draft. 
Abraham slung his backpack over his tired shoulders and headed down the dusty road leading to town. His father asked to take him. Begged, nearly. But Abe didn’t want his goodbye, which could be his final goodbye, to be at the train depot. He wanted it at home, on their farm, where he should be helping with chores. His father would manage. He always had. Even through the rough years of watching Abraham’s mother slowly leave them through the mind-dissolving dementia and then finally leave them for good, his father had managed.
Abraham hoped with every part of him he would return to the farm, to his father, and be there to help him manage during his own aging days. It would be soon. Father was showing signs of slowing. It hurt Abe to see it. It would hurt him more to have to watch his father watch him leave on that train, standing on the platform managing to control his sadness, his fear.
Kicking a rock out of his path, he figured the long walk into town would do him good, help prepare for what was to come. Not that he wasn’t prepared already. Constant farm chores without machinery to make them easier had built his strength and stamina well. Days of rising before the sun and sometimes before the roosters to take care of the crops, move lines in bitter cold air and in the hottest times of the summer, made him sturdy. He didn’t figure war would be much harder, physically. What he wasn’t sure about was how hard it would be to his mind. He didn’t mind fighting as needed. He was raised to stand up for himself and for those around him and would do so without hesitation. And now he was proud to do it for his country, as well. He’d never actually taken a life, though. He know how to stop before that risk.
Father told him to be someone else out there, to tell himself he was doing good and sometimes evil was necessary to prevent worse evil. His father told him never to let it feel bad about who he was, since his heart was in the right place and that’s what mattered. The heart. Protect the heart, he’d said.
---------
as of Nov.3: 6,063 words
|
© Copyright 2010 Voxxylady (UN: voxxylady at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Voxxylady has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback |