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In The Woods Free Write: Couch to 80K – Week 2 Day 3

This year I am working through Tim Clare’s Couch to 80K Bootcamp– a course where you write for 10 minutes a day.

By following Tim’s prompting, the aim is to work through from basics until you reach the ability to write an 80,000 word novel.

Apologies: it may not actually be that interesting to read…

A ten minute free write; as you listen to sounds of the woods.

Trent, that was the term for them. Its where the word for “Ent” came from, in Tolkien’s fiction, not that he knew that. There are lots of other names for them too. Tree men. Dryad. Norggud. But “Trent” was what they called each other.

Image taken from storm-field.fandom.com CC BY SA

Confusingly too, to those of us used to a proper, Christian name, because they had no other names or descriptive factors for one another. They would refer to each other exclusively as “Trent”. They had no gender, no pronouns, nothing to clarify that the individual they referred to was any more animate than “Rock” or “Sky”.

“Trent coming”, said Trent to me. Of course, I already knew this, because there was a shuffling noise in the air and a shuddering to the ground. When Trents are on the move, the whole forest is aware.

It’s not that they have a deep root system – they aren’t trees. So, although they lack roots, they do have some form of tendrils or organs that delves into the ground where they stand – usually with a great deal of noise. This allows them to feel the forest, to enter communication with the wide range of florae within – or as a Trent might word it “Trent breathes”. I believe there have been some basic attempts to understand their physiology, although Trents are long-lived to the extreme, and secretive about their death processes. I don’t think any biologist, no matter how passionate, is likely to be brave enough to suggest to a live Trent that they wish to dissect or otherwise interfere with them.

The forest around us grew notably darker, the sky filled in by the woody branchery of the huge Trent coming towards me. Its eyes opened wider, and it stopped, extending its root system down into the earth with a crunching noise I felt as much as heard. It took the time required to breathe, and, as if for the first time, saw us there. “Trent sees Trent”, it said, in tones of oak and moss.

The Trent next to me was already breathing.

It opened its eyes and responded in kind, “Trent sees Trent”, it said.

Sounds of Nature Free Write: Couch to 80K – Week 2 Day 2

This year I am working through Tim Clare’s Couch to 80K Bootcamp– a course where you write for 10 minutes a day.

By following Tim’s prompting, the aim is to work through from basics until you reach the ability to write an 80,000 word novel.

Apologies: it may not actually be that interesting to read…

A ten minute free write; as you listen to sounds of nature.

They ran through the wind, the dust swirling behind them, but never quite touching them. The coverings they wore, though simple in style, had an anti-fouling charm that kept the worst of Arnok’s grime off them.

Ira felt a sizzle on a small patch of exposed skin. Rain. She pulled the shawl tighter over herself, to keep the worst of the acid precipitation off her. This place really was the worst.

They continued to scurry, as the landscape around them shifted from powdery yellow to an even brown sludge. Things were dangerous now. The overalls they wore would grant them around 10 decamins before the acid would leech through, and no one wanted that to happen.

Vill was lagging behind. Ira turned and shouted “Come on! We need to get to the nearest drenfor before this gets any heavier”. She tried to keep the exasperation from her voice; Vill would risk both their lives for the opportunity to be stubborn.

The dawdling youngster looked up, wide-eyed, as if noticing the rain for the first time. His pace quickened, and he quickly caught up.

“Where’s nearest?”, he said, his breath a little short.

“There’s Armine over the hill, but that’s too far, in this I think…”. Ira gestured at the ground around them, reverberating to the now heavy rain.

“Too long, we won’t get there in time”, said Vill. “How about…”

Ira cut him off with a glare. There would be virforr in the caves, especially in this weather.

The words of her clan leader echoed in her head “Better refuge in an enemy’s drenfor than testing your skills in the cave”. No matter though, they’d be dead for sure if they stayed out in the corrosive downpour.

Mind made up, and with the tell-tale creep of moisture already creeping into her ankles, they turned and marched directly towards the caves. And the waiting virforr.

 

Ten Minute Free Write: Couch to 80K – Week 2 Day 1

This year I am working through Tim Clare’s Couch to 80K Bootcamp– a course where you write for 10 minutes a day.

By following Tim’s prompting, the aim is to work through from basics until you reach the ability to write an 80,000 word novel.

Apologies: it may not actually be that interesting to read…

A ten minute free write; write without stopping.

Without a doubt, casinos are strange places. People go into them, spend money they don’t have or do have in pursuit of money they don’t have, turning the money they do have into money that they don’t have, and then they go home in sadness that this situation happened. And then they do it again. And the entire industry is based on this premise.

I also find work a challenging one. The practical reality is that we all say this precious, imperfect, one-in-a-lifetime periods of time that we call our lives are portioned up and broken down into hour long segments, that we sell to our employers for really quite miniscule amounts of money. Even if you earn a high wage, £20 an hour, £50, £100, £1000(!), the thing we trade it for is so rare, so finite, so beautiful that it seems almost a shame to waste it.

Dogs don’t care about time. Evie and Callie lay in the sunlight, with the warm glow resting on their bodies. One of them flicked a tail, the other gently snored. A minute or a day could pass like this, and pure contentment would be their only achievement.

~ ~ ~

The laser burnt directly through the bulk head next to xhr head. Borza began to shake uncontrollably, the fear taking over for a second. Curling up under the cockpit controls began to seem incredibly appealing.

“What the Zen is going on down there, Borza?!”, screamed a voice in xhr helmet. Supressing the tremors less through will, and more through the ingrained iron of obedience, Borza grasped the control rods once more and dived into the asteroid field, leaving the open space of military terror for the equally unpredictably territory of rock-based danger.

~ ~ ~

You take a couple of eggs, balancing them on top of one another. You aren’t exactly sure why, but that doesn’t protect you from the subtle pang of disappointment as they inevitably shift. Roll. Crack. Scooping inffectually with your hands is not enough, as gloops of egg roll down to your wrists, gleefully escaping the enclosure of your fists. In a scurry entirely lacking in dignity, you direct the whole crunchy, oily mess into the bin, attempting to remove as many pieces from you as possibly, whilst they cling on with the glue like quality that these moisture laded protein strands have in such excess.

 

Risk Warrington – Board Games in April

Lockdown made me realise many things. One of them is that I love playing board games with people, yet don’t make the time to do it enough.

As a result, I’ve started a weekly board game night! I last had one of these back in Boston – check out some of my posts from back then – and I’m excited to get back to it.

Risk Warrington

Of course I’ve made a Risk Map specifically for our town of Warrington. See it below, or click here for an full size printable version

 

We played outside due to ongoing Covid-19 rules, which for evening in April was not as cold as you might have expected. The two fan heaters certainly helped!

For those of you who haven’t played Risk, it’s a Napoleonic Conquer-the-World style game, with really simple rules, and the ability to break lifelong friendships over political fragmentation. You get extra armies each turn for holding territories, and a bonus for holding an coloured area (see the key in map above for bonuses).

It begins with all 6 of us in the daylight. At the back right, you can observe Josh already readying evil machinations.

Note how we foolishly let Josh (Yellow) have the whole of the brown Latchford area during setup. This was a poor decision on all our parts, and one that eventually doomed us all.

To be fair, the “Josh threat” was noted early on. A strategic alliance between me (Grey) and Eddie (Pink) relied on his reinforcement of Stockton Heath, and mine of Grappenhall, to enable a joint attack on Josh (Yellow). Here, Eddie is considering the practicalities…

…before placing his armies in Central and completely abandoning any pretence at following through with our Alliance. This did not stop him making regular, empty, hope-crushing promises to me for the rest of the game.

In these early turns Jess (Green) and Callum (Blue) slowly carved out strongholds in the North and East areas, whilst Peter “Quisling” Clarke (Red) allied with Overlord Josh and nestling in the safe bosom of West.

Although there were some scuffles – Dallam changed hands about 8 times in the course of the game – most of us tried to bunker down and avoid poking the dragon. Here Pete is explaining how as far as he’s concerned Josh can kill everyone else in the whole of Warrington as long as Great Sankey is left alone. Charming.

And where am I at this point? Splintered to the edges of the map, Grey is already an irrelevance.

After devouring Jess, taking all her cards, and dumping a ludicrous 30 armies onto the board, Josh is crossing the Manchester Ship Canal with fire in his eyes! Pete averts his eyes, deeply conscious that he is an enabler. Eddie leans over to me and promises that this will be the moment he delivers on our alliance…

…emptily. Any action on his part proves impossible, as Josh embarks upon Hillcliffe with 35 Yellow armies at his disposal, against Eddie’s 7 Pink soldiers.

The South lost, Latchford and Central unattainable and North rapidly losing any hope, Eddie readies for a pyrrhic last stand…

…whilst Callum trades in every card he has earned so far for massed Blue reinforcements! Counterattacking the imperial Yellow might of Josh’s hordes? Could this be the turning point of the game?!

…only for 4 Yellow armies to hold against 18 Blue ones! With the shattered remains of two armies in place, Josh proceeded to macerate both Eddie’s Northern remnants and the Birchwood stronghold of Callum. Look at him here. Crushed, the poor lad.

With 85% of the board in Josh’s hands, its a game over.

Pete “The Red Enabler” Clarke sits content in 2nd place, quietly satisfied to hang onto the coat tails of the victor. Overlord Josh rubs his hands, savouring the enormity of the Yellow Empire, and the delicious, needless blood he has shed during its consecration.

A fun night, although next time there’s no way I’ll let anyone take Latchford!

Objects in a Bag: Couch to 80K – Week 1 Day 6

This year I am working through Tim Clare’s Couch to 80K Bootcamp– a course where you write for 10 minutes a day.

By following Tim’s prompting, the aim is to work through from basics until you reach the ability to write an 80,000 word novel.

Apologies: it may not actually be that interesting to read…

Interesting Objects In The Protagonist’s Bag

A dented ring pull from a can of New Coke.

Hardly enough change for the single bus journey into town.

Amongst the scraps of iron filings and loose screws was an assortment of tools, dulled and rusted from improper storage.

A package, with only a single glowing LED on one edge, blinking a warning.

Three pieces of spearmint chewing gum, gnawed until all the flavour had gone, and carefully sealed back into the original foil wrappers.

An unlabelled tin, like you’d find in any supermarket aisle, but naked. Bright and shiny. Unadorned. Probably just dog food, let’s be honest.

He had all his clothes, carefully folded, with a tarpaulin, a winter sleeping bag, and a knife. The knife was large, unsophisticated and viciously sharp-edged. The regular scratches perpendicular to the blade implied it was regularly used and sharpened. It was a familiar all round hand tool, that just happened to make an excellent weapon too.

A flute, wrapped in a fine satin cloth. There was no monogram on the cloth, but it gave just enough of a scent of perfume off to bring juniper and summer breezes to mind.

Nothing. Suspiciously empty, in fact.

The severed human foot had a number on it. Not tattooed, but sellotaped on, like it was ready for the tombola at a fair.

Multiple diaries, each labelled with the year they were started. None finished. And none containing more than three or four entries. Good intentions allied with a poor ability to follow through, in book form.

 

Books to Read: Couch to 80K – Week 1 Day 5

This year I am working through Tim Clare’s Couch to 80K Bootcamp– a course where you write for 10 minutes a day.

By following Tim’s prompting, the aim is to work through from basics until you reach the ability to write an 80,000 word novel.

Apologies: it may not actually be that interesting to read…

What books have you not read or should read?

  • A History of Wales John Davies
  • Welsh myths book – The Mabinogion
  • The Last Village – Welsh Scifi
  • Finish Ursula LeGuin series
  • Dune
  • Neuromancer
  • Foundation Asimov
  • The Kraken Wakes
  • Slaughterhouse Five
  • Stranger in a Strange Land – Heinlein
  • 2001 A Space Oddysey
  • War of the Worlds
  • The Forever War – Joe Haldeman
  • Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
  • What I talk about when I talk about Running – Haruki Murakami
  • The Road – Cormac McCarthy
  • The Time Traveller’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger

Interesting descriptions: Couch to 80K – Week 1 Day 4

This year I am working through Tim Clare’s Couch to 80K Bootcamp– a course where you write for 10 minutes a day.

By following Tim’s prompting, the aim is to work through from basics until you reach the ability to write an 80,000 word novel.

Apologies: it may not actually be that interesting to read…

Make a list of interesting descriptions

His eyes were narrowed, like the business end of a knife.

A blazer, faded from the sunlight of too many summers.

Grime, deeply embedded. Not simply dirt, but the change in colour to skin once the dirt is absorbed. Part of you.

Attached by a string so flimsy, it was surprising the wind didn’t take her hat away with every breeze.

Shiny buttons, shiny enough to show fingerprints, all down his chest.

Her every movement sullen. Resentful. An anger towards each moment that had brought her into this situation, painted on her face.

Its legs twitched, the wolf running in its dreams.

The screen had a hairline crack, running from the bottom right corner to the middle of the display.

His hobbling gait gave the impression of one leg shorter than the other, which was exactly the impression he was aiming for.

To those that knew her, the slight curling of her lip betrayed an irritation she was struggling to conceal.

The trousers were irregular and patchy. No wonder – Calvin Klein still doesn’t make clothing for 3 legged aliens, even though first contact was nearly a decade ago.

It landed silently, legs coiled ready to leap again.