My first Chapter won first runner up in a writing contest.

Yeah! All my hard work is starting to pay off! I entered my first chapter in a writing contest and it won first runner up!

Chapter one

Tzack had only seen this much blood once before, a week before his father disappeared. Today, it oozed out from under what was left of the barn door. Had the dicatti beast finally come for him?

An eerie stillness radiated through the air. He should be scared. He should run inside and tell his sisters, warn his Mother, save his life.

He straighted his back and calmed his breath. If he ran now he would never find out what happened.

A breeze ruffled and the barn door creaked open. A chill crept down his spine. Answers or die.

He pushed the door open.

Lifeless goats lay on piles of hay drenched in congealing blood. Chunks of flesh torn at random. Entrails hung from half-eaten stomachs. Entire limbs torn from bodies. The smell of decaying flesh over powered his senses. Father’s goats were dead.

His stomach lurched and he covered his mouth. He scanned the barn for movement. Nothing. No dicatti.

Outside, something scraped against the back wall. He needed a weapon, but the only thing in the barn was a kindling axe. Not what he had envisioned he’d use to fight the dicatti, but it was that or nothing, so he picked it up, and stepped outside.

He sunk into the shadows at the side of the barn, slunk towards the back. Silent, as an Asazzi warrior.

Grass rustled around the corner.

He raised the axe high above his head, turned the corner, and let out his best imitation of a war cry.

A talk kid jumped back and threw his hands over his head. “Aho-wawa! Put that thing down before you kill me.”

Tzack froze. Omar, his best friend in the whole known world, and he had nearly murdered him.

“Ya almost made me piddle myself.” Omar’s carefree words conflicted with Tzack’s tortured thoughts. But that’s what he liked about Omar. Omar had mastered the free-and-easy. Everything about him spoke of it, the wisps of curly hair that poked out from under his long stocking cap. The smile that crossed his Asazzi white skin. Even his too short pants that hung on his bony frame seemed to say I ain’t got a care in the world, deal with it.

“Oh” The word came out of Tzack like pressure from a corked bottle of simerak. He lowered the axe. “My goat’s they’re … dead.” The words surreal, as if this truth, lied. He peered out over the rustling prairie.

“Your goats are dead?”

Passed the prairie, the chest-high wall marked the edge of the town Voltern, its crumbling rocks scattered among the grass, and beyond that the trees glowed in the morning light. The dicatti were out there somewhere.

Omar’s looked at Tzack and then at the forest. “So, what are we looking for?”

“The dicatti, they killed my goats.” The words hung in the air like a bad smell.

Omar face paled, which was quite a feat considering how white his skin was already. “Don’t you joke with me about that. We both know there aren’t any more dicatti.”

“All my father’s goats are dead in that barn, I wouldn’t joke about that. See for yourself” he said pointing to the front of the barn.

Omar walk stepped around front, Tzack followed.

Omar’s large Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat. “Aho-wala” He said and turned to face Tzack. His face glistened like green pond scum. “Your mom’s not going to take this news very well.”

Tzack belly churned, and he wasn’t sure if it was the smell of the goats or the thought of having to tell Mother.

Omar swung the splinter door shut and examined the gouges in the wood. He nodded his head. He spoke in his most expert tracker voice. “There was two of them, and both very big. My guess is a bear, yes a bear.” He leaned down and pressed his fingers in one of the impressions in the grass. “These tracks are deep here, and this mass is pressed down. Ah.. I see, there was a fight. And one of the beasts is wounded. See, there is a trail of blood leading away from the barn.” Omar picked up one of the chunks of wood examined it for a second then tossed it aside. “Good news is it’s been gone for awhile. See how the grass is already bouncing back.”

There could be more dicatti. Why was Omar trying so hard to denying it. Tzack pulled open the barn door. “Look. Could a bear do that?”

Omar’s eyes did a quick pass of the inside of the barn, and looked away from the massacre. His face going an even paler shade of green. “The last dicatti was killed eight years ago, we ain’t seen any since, and unless they have figured out how to come back to life, this ain’t no dicatti.”

Tzack mouth fell open. “You can’t even look at the goats, how can you tell it wasn’t a dicatti.” The irony of it amplified by the seriousness of the situation. “Your half Asazzi and you can’t stand the site of blood?” A laugh boiled out of him, heavy and forced.

“I don’t mind a little blood. But that’s not a little blood.“

meeeet meeet

A goat bleated from inside the barn.

Not all the goats were dead. He had one left. One piece of Father left.

He stepped inside. And let his eyes adjust to the light. A little blood, okay a lot of blood, didn’t bother him.

Omar cleared his throat. “I’ll keep guard out here.”

“Coward.” He said under his breath, but the truth was Omar was one of the bravest people he’d ever known, if there’d been a more compelling reason to go into the barn Omar would have.

meeet

At the back of the barn a goat struggled to get up.

Tzack’s feet slipped on the blood-soaked hay. The air was rank and acid stung this throat. He. Would. Not. Puke. He stumbled over goat bodies, trying not to look at them and remember their name. They were just animals. Animals died every day. He and knelt down, careful not to get blood on his pants. It was Emerald, she looked at him, her white hair caked in the red liquid.

She’d stopped struggling, and tucked her legs under her trembling body, her almost-human brown eyes seemed to plead with him.

He placed the ax down and stroked her neck, her fur was coarse, it radiated warmth and comfort. He leaned in close and pressed his face to hers. “It will be okay, we will be okay,”

He wrapped his arms around her, to pick her up, to take her out of the barn, to bring her to safety. She bleated loudly and struggled to get away. He put her down. Something was wrong. She tried to get up and fell. Then he saw it, bone jutted out of both her back legs, blood trickled out of the wound. His gut turned, stupid, stupid, stupid, he was going to lose her too.

The dicatti had come back to take away the only things he really cared about, just like they had done before. But this time would be different, this time he was not an eight year old boy, this time he would catch them an he would kill them.

Emerald flopped down in the hay.

Meeet.

Pain tainted her voice.

His heart froze mid beat. His arms fell to his sides. He knew what he had to do. He reached down, and picked up the axe.

Unshed tears stung his throat. He looked at the steel blade, his hand shook. A knife would have been better, but he didn’t have a knife. He pushed Emerald on her side; she stared at him with horribly trusting eyes.

His heart crawled into his belly and took refuge. He lifted the axe and swung it down with all his strength.

Thunk, thunk

It stuck in her flesh neck and she bleated out betrayal. He pulled it free and brought it down again ending her misery. He stopped. Her now unseeing eyes stared up at him. He turned his head. Never love anything. It will always let you down, or be taken away.

It was over, nothing was left, and he was all alone in the barn with death.

How to get over writers block in ten min or less.

You stare blankly at your screen. That little black line blinking on and off, a frustrating reminder that your mind is blank, your writing is stuck, and you’ve got no inspiration.

Writers block. That evil devil of impossibility.

So what do you do? Take a walk, come back to it in a day, sleep it off?

Why waste so much time when you need to get that thing written right now.

Let me tell you how.

Get a timer and write.

Now you may be saying to yourself. What? But I have writers block how is that going to help?

The trick is in how you write, not what you write. It’s called free writing.

Open a blank document, set the timer for 10 min, and write. You are not allowed to stop those fingers clicking on the keyboard. Don’t go back and fix your spelling, don’t go back and fix your punctuation, don’t go back and fix the crap that you just wrote. Cage your self-editor and don’t let her out. Let the thoughts flow from your mind like water from a waterfall, crashing recklessly to the rocks of the white page below. Even if you end up writing. ‘I can’t think of anything to write.’ Write it.

To show you what I mean here is an example of one of my free writes.

“Holy cow this is the hardest thing to over come. AHHHHH this is hard i need to come up with a story other than the out line

Begining the need to brake someone out of jail but he doesn’t know that he is doing it what does this jail look like is it just one room or is it a large complex. I think it is just one room like they had in the old west stories. So there is a prison bars and bench but it is empty. “

Notice the miss spelled word, the lack of some punctuation, and the fact that it hardly makes any sense. Forget everything but writing. Let your fingers and your mind wander to where ever it goes. Let yourself get on tangents, your mind will open up and write you the goods.

Since I’ve used this technique I haven’t had writers block for longer than 10 min. My free writing material wanders too much to use in my actual novel, but I always solve whatever problem I’ve come up against.

Didn’t solve the problem in the first 10 min? No problem set the timer and start again.

Try it out, post below about how it does or doesn’t work for you.





For more information on free writing check out this book.

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In a wold where forests glow and fog is deadly, A reckless teenager must prove himself by solving the mystery of his missing father before in destroys his soul.

Chapter one revised.

I have been working super hard to become a better writer over the past few months. A lot of my story has changed since then and I wanted to give you all a sneak peek of my current work. A special thanks to Carol, Christina, Kelly, and Jen.

Chapter one
When events are too mind shatteringly horrible, they divide life into two parts. Life before. And life after. 
Tzack had already experience this once. And when he stepped out the back door, milk pails in hand, he had no idea it was about to happen again.
 Crisp air ripped the warmth from Tzack’s lungs destroying any remaining sleep. He peered out over the green prairie that rustled like dancing razer blades in the wind. The smell of dew and dirt assaulted his nose. A blanket of unease wrapped around him smothering his breath.  
 He scanned the chest-high wall whose fallen rocks lay scattered among the grass, searching for the unusual. He gazed over the wall and into the effervescent trees whose leave glowed like veined hands of jade against the morning light. His heart kept rhythm with the changes in the wind. Nothing moved, nothing seemed unusual, but something was certainly wrong.
He turned to the weather-worn barn, it tilted to one side. A lone building in a sea of flowering grass. He could just make out the hammer marks of the long-gone militiamen. Tzack’s stepped slowly, continuing to scan the grass for signs of anything. His skin broke out in an army of goose bumps, and he knew what was wrong. Silence pounded an empty song in his ears. No birds. No bugs. And no goats.

Tzack’s heart dove into his stomach. He ran to the barn and stopped.

Deep claw marks gouged jagged lines in the barn door, exposed the clean wood underneath. Rough pieces of timber torn apart left gaping holes, the interior exposed. Brown-red spots speckled the flattened grass.

Blood.

Everything stopped. His breath, his heart, and for a moment, time.

A breeze ruffled his hair. A chill that had nothing to do with the morning cold crept down his spine. He squatted down and pressed his eye to a gouge in one of the boards. Brown and black goat feet shifted on the straw.

His goats were alive. He set down the pails, and opened the door, slow, deliberate, heart pounding like a Asazzi war drum.

Thin beams of sunlight sliced the shadows on the floor. The goats bleated, breaking the silence. They shuffled, huddling in mass around Pat, the old mare. Everything looked normal. But the hand of dread pressed against Tzack’s back and wrapped him in its fingers. This had happened before.

Pat whinnied and kicked her hooves. “It’s okay Pat” Tzack said, his own voice sounded unnatural in the thick silence. He reached out, took two slow steps towards her. She quieted.

Something scraped against the planks outside the barn. His head jerked to the sound. Tzack picked up a kindling axe and stepped out of the barn. With every shift in the breeze his heart beat faster. His palms grew sweaty on the axe handle. He sunk into the shadows against the barn wall, and pressed his back to it. Stepped sideways. The grass rustled just around the corner.

Tzack closed his eyes. Sweat gathered on his brow. He raised the axe high above his head, turned the corner and screamed like he imagined an Azazzi warrior would.

A tall young man jumped back and threw his hands over his head. “Aho-wawa! Put that thing down before you kill me.”

Omar, Tzack had nearly axed Omar, his best friend in the whole known world.

“Ya almost made me piddle myself.” Omar’s said. Wisps of curly hair poked out from under a leather stocking hat, the only homage to Omar’s Asazzi heritage, besides his maggot white skin. His pants were too short, and they clung to his legs, even thought he looked as if he could use a few more meals than he actually got.

“Oh” Tzack said. The word came out like pressure from a corked bottle. He lowered the axe. His hand shook but he couldn’t relax his grip. “Something tried to get into the barn last night.” His eyes tore through the grass one more time. He took a few steps back “Check this out.”” Tzack pointed to the barn door.

Omar stroked his chin and looked at the door, as if the fate of all Paradise could be found in it’s groves. He looked at Tzack through the corner of his eyes. “Did ya do this just to play a trick on me? If ya did, I’m impressed, this is good work.”

“It’s not a prank.” Tzack put both his hands over his chest. “I’ll swear on the lord of earth himself. I would never do this to the barn. Mother would cook me up and serve me to the town council it I did.”

“Right.” Omar gave Tzack his I’m-not-falling-for-that look.

“Omar, I’m being serious. This could be a dicatti.” The words hung in the air like an unwanted smell.

 Omar face paled, which was quite a feat considering how white his skin was already. “Now I know ya playing with me.”

“Come on Omar. We both know your kind of sensitive when it comes to the dicatti, I wouldn’t joke about that.”

Omar looked at Tzack, then at the barn door and then at Tzack again. “Alright, I believe ya that you didn’t do it. But the dicatti is dead, its head is hanging in city hall.” Omar pressed two fingers to the ground. “Whatever did this is really big. Look at um huge chunks pulled out of the door.” He picked up one of the chunks of wood, then threw it back down. “It couldn’’t be a dicatti. No this is something else.” He looked up at Tzack ““The good news is it’s been gone for a while. See how the grass be already bouncing back.”

Tzack ignored the grass and Omar’s assessment. “But… what if it was another dicatti?” Excitement and dread made a dizzying concoction in his gut.

“There can’t be anymore dicatti. We ain’t seen one for eight years. Don’t ya think we’d have seen a few of them if there were more?”

Had it been eight years? That was half a life time for Tzack.

Tzack still didn’t believe Omar but he knew it was pointless to try to convince Omar otherwise. “Okay, whatever, but I’m still going to catch it.”

Omar glowed. He had the best face for glowing all bright and shiny. “You mean catch them.” Omar spoke like Mr Pefface the school master. Each word emphasized as if the listener might not understand. “These tracks are deep here and this mass is pressed down and then there’s the blood. Naw this was a fight, and a fight means two.” Omar lifted his eyebrows in a oh-I-am-so-clever sort of way.

“Two of them?” Tzack pressed his hands together. He was either going to the hero of the town or in some deep, deep crap. He straightened his back, he could handle this. “Make me one of your traps.” He said.

“No” Omar held the word out like he savored it in him mouth.

“bu-“

A grin slashed across Omar face, “And let ya get all them credit. If we do this, we do it together.”

“We’ll milk the goats and we will come up with a plan after breakfast.” Tzack said. He still didn’t know if the churning he felt inside was excitement or fear, but whatever it was it was going to be an adventure.

Chapter Four

Chapter 4 - The other side of the forest

Tzack sat on a small moss covered hill overlooking the river. The goats grazed by him as the rain lightly dripped over their coats.
His sisters were over helping Mr Wilks with camp and dinner. Mrs Wilks was much more relaxed now that Mr Wilks was gone. She even smiled when Tzack brought her some wood to make a fire.
Bunny plopped down next to Tzack “Your goats are ugly” She said.
“They are not” Tzack said
“They are too. Look they have funny beards and their eyes are so little.”
“You have little eyes” Tzack said huffliy
Bunny looked at him and scrunched up her mean little face and punched him so hard in knocked him over.

Tzack knew he was not supposed to hit girls but he just couldn’t help himself so he balled up his little fist and aimed right for her face.

But it missed, as Bunny easily dodged. She laughed. “You aint a very good fighter are you” She said as she hopped on his back. Pinning him to the ground. She was heavy for a girl.

He wormed his way out from under her slipping in the mud as he did. She stood up and laughed again. “My brothers would woop you good. You and your ugly goats” She said.

Furious Tzack lunged at her knocking her over and the two of them rolled down the slippery hill. Tzack grunted as he slammed hard into a slick boulder.

He heard a splash as Bunny landed in the river.

Tzack moaned as he tried to get up, the breath knocked out of him. He looked over to see how Bunny was fairing but she was not in the river where he thought she should be.

“HELP!” Bunny cried sputtering, she was already several feet down the roaring river, but now her dress was caught on a piece of driftwood wedged between large rocks.

From behind him Emily came charging down the hill. She waded carefully into the river as the heavy current pushed against her sturdy legs. She clutched an overhanging branch to steady her as she inched her way closer.

The rain around them now began to fall heavily. The rain pouring off of his hat obscuring Tzack’s view. “Give me your hand.“ Emily yelled. Holding on the the tree by the very edge of the branch and extending her arms as far as she could.

“I can’t!” Bunny cried desperately trying to reach Emily.

“Get help!” Emily yelled at Tzack.

Tzack ran as fast as he could. Slipping on the moss as he ran. The rain let up a bit as he made his way around the hill and to the camp.

“Bunny fell into the river!” He yelled.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and ran to help Tzack.

A rumbling sound came from somewhere up river.

“It’s a flash flood!” Mrs Wilks cried as she ran.

Back at the river Bunny sat on the shore crying and sopping wet, but Emily was still standing in the river tugging at her leg. “I’m stuck!” she cried.

Mrs Wilks grabbed Bunny “Get up the banks before the flood comes!” She said.

The rumbling in the distance was getting louder.

“Help me!” Emily gasped desperately pulling at her leg.

“Damn it!” Sanbar said shaking his fists. He walked into the river kicking the water as he went. “You stupid women. Don’t you know how to keep out of trouble.”

The water rose before their eyes as Sanbar reached down into the water trying to free Emily. The roar of the approaching flood growing ever closer.

Tzack’s heart stopped not willing to beat as he watched the two struggle in the water. The speeding raging water fighting there every attempt.

They were not going to make it. He could see the wall of water just moments away. He cried out in alarm and then they were out. Sanbar and Emily running up the hill, as a cascade of water flooded over where the were standing just moments before.

The little crowd stood and watched the rushing water as it tore into the trees at its sides dragging a few of the smaller ones away.

 The rain stopped and the night was clear as the little group sat around the campfire. Sanbar had regained his pride and now spoke boastly to all who would listen.

“Oh that was a good one, wasn’t it” He said for not the first time.

“We were all there” Said Pallus flatly.

“Yes, but remember when I yanked Emily’s leg out from under those branches just before the river came crashing in behind us. That was great!”

“Yes, I do. We were there.” Pallus said again.

“It was so brave,” Rachel said doe eyed. “I wish it was me you saved.”

“I don’t” Sanbar said “Your sister is the pretty one.”

Rachel frowned dejected.

Emily huffed. “I am not. Rachel is much prettier than I”

Rachel tried to smile at Emily but failed

“You are really pretty” Bunny said to Emily who sat next to her. She had not left her side since Emily had saved her in the river.

“Sanbar, you shouldn’t say things like that to peoples faces” Mrs Wilks said quietly.

“I’m going to say what I want, mother” He said staring down at her.

A strange deep singing sound came from out of the forest.

“Pa’s back” Sanbar said standing up. “Looks like he’s got us some game. Pa always sings when he’s killed something.”

Tzack looked up. Sure enough Mr Wilks was trudging out of the forest. He stopped singing and smiled at them.

“Here cook this” he said throwing a couple small animals at Mrs Wilks. Nothing tastes as good as eating a fresh kill.

In the morning the river had fallen far enough for them to cross safely. Emily hitched Courage up to the wagon and masterfully lead the wagon and the animals forward.

It was almost nightfall when they finally reached Rough River. Tzack could see the whole town from where he stood. Fresh built log cabins lining a well worn road. The little town only really had two places of note. The general store and the two story tavern.

The wagons pulled into the town.  “Hello” Yelled Mr Wilks. Nobody answered. The town was completely vacant. The wagons wheeled slowly over the dirt road. The town seemed so strange with nobody in it, it made Tzack uneasy, where was Pa and Mother.

“Hello” Mr Wilks yelled again.

“Hey there” Came Pa’s voice from inside of one of the smaller cabins.

“Pa” Sarah screamed running to greet him, nearly knocking him over. “It has been just awful since you left, where’s mother?

“Whoa there My Little Button, you just about knocked me over. She’s in the cabin” Pa said.

Sarah ran inside, and Tzack followed with Rachel and Emily.

“Mother,” Sarah cried this time a little quieter, and she ran to her mothers side.

Mother lay on a stark bed in the corner of the one room dwelling. She tried to sit up as the children entered, but fell back on the pillow.

“Mother, don’t strain yourself” Emily said.

“I’m alright. Just a little tired that’s all” Mother said weakfully.

Tzack stood back away from mother not daring to come forward, as the girls coed over her.

“Tzack, come here” Mother becond.

Tzack did not move, and his lower lip began to quiver.

“Tzack what’s wrong” Mother said a mother’s tenderness in her voice.

And it all came rushing out the tears burning down his cheeks “I’m so sorry mother, I’m so sorry”

“Come here” She said opening her arms, and he ran into them letting all the horribleness of the past few days events melt into her arms.

“Now stop your crying and tell me what is the matter” She said wiping his tears.

Tzack gulped a few times before managing to get out, “You almost died and I was all my fault. And then Bunny, and Emily almost died and that was my fault too.”

“Oh Tzack.” Mother said stroking his hair. “It’s okay. You listen to me, You be a good boy from now on and always do what I say and it will all be okay. Alright?” And she kissed his forehead.

“Alright. I promise I will be good from now on, as long as I live.” Tzack said

“You are my good boy” Mother said and pulled him close and wincing as she did.

“Is it your arm,” Tzack said sitting up.

“It will get better” Mother said reassuring him “It is just going to take some time.

The Wilks family took up residence across the street in the tavern for the night. Rachel sat by the small glass window gazing longingly over the dark road.

The door swung silently on its hinges as Pa and Emily entered. The soft candle light eerily lit a pain and fear in Pa’s face that Tzack had never seen before. Pa grabbed his rifle that lay next to mothers bed. He stood staring out the window he absentmindedly tapped his finger on the stock of the rife.

“What’s the matter Daniel, is it ...?” Mother said trailing off weakly.

“No Lucy it’s not that, I’m going to have a talk with Mr wilks. Don’t you worry bout a thing, just rest” He said walking over to her. He tenderly pushed back her hair kissing her gently on the forehead. “Lucy” He said looking deeply into her eyes as if no one else was in the room. “I love you, everything is going to be okay.”

“I love you too” Mother said sinking deeper into the bed.

“Rachel, come here I need to talk to you outside” Pa said.

Rachel followed pa out into the darkness, and when she returned her face was drained of color, and she looked as if she was going to cry.

The shake in her hand was ever so subtle as she shut the door but it was there. Tzack looked back to see if mother had noticed but mother was asleep.

Rachel shut the sturdy door and locked it. She pulled the rough curtains over the window, shutting out the darkness that lay outside.

“What’s going on?” Emily asked leaning in close to Rachel so as not to disturb mother.

“I don’t know.” Rachel said “Pa just said to lock the door and not to come out no matter what we heard.”

“Oh no!” Sarah gasped in her small frail voice. “Is Pa going to be okay?”

“You heard what he said to mother” Tzack said defiantly “Everything is going to be okay, that’s what he said.”

The four children sat huddled on the floor in the little one room cabin, so like there own but so very different.

Tzack eventually fell asleep listening to the sound of the wind whispering through the eaves of the thatch roof.

He was awakened by a scratching sound. Something was at the door trying to get in.
Tzack crawled over to the door “Pa?” Tzack called out. The scratching grew more intense. Maybe Pa was hurt and couldn't talk. Maybe he needed to be let it. Tzack reached up to the latch on the door to unlock it.

“What do you think you are doing” Rachel said slapping his wrist down. The scratching sound turned into a savage clawing sound and the door shook with the force that was pressed upon it. Tzack clung to Rachel as they backed away from the door. Whatever it was was extremely large and it wanted to get in.

The scratching stopped, and Tzack could hear Sarah softly crying by his side in Emily’s arms. Mother was standing behind them her left arm limp wrapped in bandages limp by her side.

Suddenly the door shook as something large and powerful slammed against it. The hinges creaked at the strain. Sarah let out a sob.

“The bed!” Mother said desperately “Push the bed against the door.”

The little family pushed hartily against the heavy wood bed willing it to move. Slowly it inched forward.

The door shuddered again as whatever it was slammed into it. The planks in the door ached to give way.

“Push harder” Mother called and in a sudden rush the bed slid across the room knocking into the door.

They sat at the end of the bed, it shuttered every time the door was slammed into. And then there was silence.

Emily stood up daring to peer over the bed. She quickly ducked as something came flying through the window. Sending pieces of glass across the room.

Tzack didn't look at the window, he just closed his eyes tightly and held desperately onto his mother's unhurt arm.

There was a grunting and a snarling as something large tried to force itself through the small window for what seemed like forever, and then it was gone.

The family did not move from their spots until the sun rose. It’s slow fingers lighting the mess of a room that lay before them.

“Oh my ...” Rachel said when the sun had risen far enough for them to see what it was that had broken the window. Before them on the ground torn cleanly from it’s body was a mangle goat head.