One-Minute-Writer: Week 43

(Note: These are writing prompts of "One-Minute-Writer-Blog")

Monday, October-25: PR. Athletes are often chasing their next "PR" (Personal Record--e.g., that athlete's fastest marathon time.) What PR would you like to chase (athletic or otherwise)?
I'd like to participate on the NaNo Writing Challenge coming in November. So, please, let me reach the demanded 50.000 words mark!

Tuesday, October-26: Star. Finish this old rhyme with your own version of the last line: Star light, star bright, First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might ...
Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might
Dream of that one brilliant idea tonight.

Wednesday, October-27: Overnight. Where would you be pleased to find yourself locked up overnight?
*hmm* In the new Harry Potter Theme Park (is it already open?) or maybe in Shah Rukh Khan's house.

Thursday, October-28: Soap. You have magic soap. What does it wash/clean?
I'm undecided, which one I would prefer:
1. A soap, that reveals someone's real, maybe hidden talent. So with using the soap you could find the perfect profession. Everyone would love his/her job and do his/her very best.
2. A soap, that reveals someone's real beauty or ugliness. So with using this soap you could see, if someone is a good person with good qualities and intentions … or not.
In any case, I would be very generous with sharing the soap.

Friday, October-29: Rules. Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt "Rules".
I'd like to quote Mike Trippiedi, who wrote:
"I am not writing fiction today on this blog because I have decided to break the rule."
This is short, simple and brilliant! *ggg*

Saturday, October-30: Wall. Write about something hanging on your wall that is special to you.
Every single piece on my walls is special. There are souvenirs from wonderful countries, mementos on my beloved mother, greeting cards from wonderful people, some examples of my own art. I don't want to miss a single object!

Sunday, October-31: Athlete. Write about how you felt as a kid when you participated in athletic activities.
Frankly, I was good in cheering the others making a great performance and I ... I played my part of the last very well! *sigh* Someone has to do that job!

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Writing Exercise 11: Sources For Ideas

(Note: This is a unit of "Schreibaufgabe.de")

THE CHALLENGE
Sometimes, life writes the best stories. Stories, where you think: "Well, I've never thought of THAT!"

Newspapers are full of those little stories. They might not be global and spectacular, but perfectly for short stories.
Like this one on the left side: "Woman survives parachute falling"
Read the article, and imagine you are the woman. You've just hit on the street, your arm is broken, your leg, too. In the distance you might hear the sirens of the ambulance. Your friends run at you. What do you think? Was it luck? Bad luck? Do you think, if you have switched off the iron?

Simply start writing! In 1000 words: What do you think?

MY OUTCOME
AUA! Verdammt! Verfluchte ... SCHEISSE! Tut das weh!
Hat sich ... hat sich jemand das Kennzeichen von diesem, diesem Lastwagen gemerkt?
Oder kann mir überhaupt mal jemand sagen, was hier ... was hier gerade passiert ist? Da war dieses Knacken. Dieses ... dieses fürchterliche ... dieses abscheuliche Knacken.
Auuuuh! Autsch! Ja, genau hier. Scheiße! Das sieht gar nicht gut aus! Ü-B-E-R-H-A-U-P-T NICHT gut! Nicht, wenn man seine Ferse von Vorne sehen kann! Oder? NICHT gut! Verflucht!
Mein Gott, mir wird schlecht ... ich glaub, ich muss, ich muss, ich muss mich übergeben ... nein, doch nicht ... oder? Nein, hab ja nichts im Magen! Gut! Immerhin!
Oh, hier dreht sich ja auf einmal alles! Mein Gott, mir wird schwarz vor...
Ruhig! Okay? Ganz ruhig! Wie lange war ich weg? Nicht lange, oder? Oder? Nicht bewegen! Ganz ruhig! Still halten!
Schmerzen bedeuten, du bist am Leben! So ein Dreck! Wer denkt sich bloß so 'ne Scheiße aus?
Also, ganz ruhig ... atmen ... langsam ... atmen! Okay, was haben wir? Wie war das gleich noch ... in einem Notfall ... ja, Notfall ... definitiv ... denken, Mädchen, denken ... so schwierig kann das doch nicht sein, du hast das tausend Mal geprobt ... verflucht noch mal konzentrier dich endlich!
Notfall, das war's ... in einem Notfall ... Ruhe bewahren! Check! Ich denke, das hab' ich hinbekommen ... einigermaßen! Ganz ruhig ... stillhalten ... atmen ... nicht bewegen!
Okay, was war dann? Schritt zwei ... in einem Notfall ... Schritt zwei ... Ausrüstung! Ja, genau! Ausrüstung checken!
SCHEISSE! Ich lieg' hier am Boden und hab noch den Fallschirm um! Nicht gut! Der kleinste Luftzug und ich bin im Eimer ... na ja, noch mehr als ohnehin schon! Okay, okay ... was muss ich tun? Ruhig! Ganz Ruhig! Du kannst das!
Zwei Knöpfe ... nur zwei Knöpfe und du bist vom Fallschirm los ... ganz vorsichtig, nur die Arme ... ja, das geht! Konzentrier dich auf die Arme! Rechter Arm ... langsam heben ... ja, gut so ... noch ein Stück ... Klick! Geschafft!
Und jetzt links ... Oh verflucht! Wieso tut sich da nichts ... Ich spür meinen linken Arm gar nicht! OH MEIN GOTT! Ist das ... ist das ... ist das etwa BLUT unter dem Anzug!
Komm' schon! Glaubst du, du kommst hier mit so einem Karacho runter und hast keinen Kratzer abbekommen? ... Ja ja, ich weiß ... aber Blut!!! ... ich kann ... ich kann einfachen diesen ... diesen Geruch nicht ab ... so salzig und ... rostig ... wie Metall ...
Keine Panik jetzt, ja? Das hatten wir schon hinter uns, richtig? RICHTIG???
Richtig! Also, sei schön brav und atme durch den Mund ... durch den Mund, Mädchen! Ja, so ist's gut! Ganz ruhig und gleichmäßig ... eins – zwei – drei – vier – fünf – sechs – sieben – acht – neun – zehn!
Gut! Geht doch! Und jetzt zum linken Verschluss! Mit der rechten Hand ... weiter ... weiter ... manno, du zitterst ganz schön! Noch ein Stück ... nur ein kleines Stückchen ... Mist! Das wird so wohl nichts .... also, konzentrier dich ... Zähne zusammenbeißen ... einmal tief Luft holen ... es tut nur ganz kurz weh, aber du MUSST diesen Fallschirm loswerden! Okay, auf drei ... eins – zwei – DREI!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! SCHEISSE! Verfluchte, heilige Scheiße ...
Geschafft! Geschafft! Gut! Weiter atmen! Atmen ... atmen ... und still halten ...
Was noch? Was ... noch? Notfall ... ja, genau ... Ruhe bewahren ... in einem Notfall ... dann, dann die ... die Ausrüstung ... genau! Und dann? Ruhe ... Ausrüstung ... die Lage ... genau, die Lage checken!
Ist eigentlich jemandem ... irgend jemandem aufgefallen ... wie absolut ... MAKABER ... das Ganze hier ist?
Ich häng' da an diesem ollen Schirm ... so völlig ... so völlig ... NUTZLOS!
Und wo lande ich? Ja, Ladies und Gentleman ... WO lande ich?
Der da oben muss ja einen arg seltsamen HUMOR haben ...
Oder findet das hier noch jemand ... WITZIG?
Oh Gott, nicht hysterisch werden ... nicht hysterisch!
Na, wieso denn nicht? Ein klein wenig witzig ist das schon ... die einzige Straßenlaterne zu treffen ... ODER ETWA NICHT?
So was passiert natürlich nur mir ... natürlich! Wem denn sonst? HA! HA! Selten so gelacht!
Und jetzt?
Versuch' dich zu beruhigen ... ja! Ganz ruhig!
Weiter atmen! Ruhig ... atmen ... atmen ... still halten ... und warten ... warten ... warten ... GUT! Atme ...
Lasshilfezudirkommen, lass.hilfe.zu.dir.kommen. Lass ... Hilfe ... zu ... dir ... kommen ... Lass ... Hilfe ...
Was? Wer?
Hey, ich kenne dein Gesicht!
Jo ... Jo ist da! Das ist gut ... oder? Jo?
Was?
Ja, ich kann dich ... ich kann dich ... hören! Oh, ich hab' nichts gesagt, oder?
"ich...dichören"
Kannst du MICH hören, JO? Kannst du?
Oh, Jo!
Es tut mir sooo leid! Wirklich leid! Ich war immer ... IMMER ... so gemein zu dir! Ich mit meinen blödsinnigen ... mit meinen absolut hirnrissigen Ideen für ... für neue Formationen! Zu waghalsig! VIEL zu waghalsig ... War es das wert?
Und du? Du warst so ... so geduldig! Immer so ... geduldig! Und nachsichtig! Und doch ... und doch ... hast du immer ... IMMER ... mitgemacht! Jo, wieso?
Was sagst du?
Bei dir bleiben ... natürlich bleib ich hier ... ich geh hier nirgendwohin ...
Und dann ... und dann ...
Dann warst du das, oder? Das warst du ... da oben? Richtig?
Das warst du! Ja, genau! Jo war das!
Oh, Jo!
"es...tutmi...lei!"
Du warst so mutig ... so mutig! Du hast ... du hast ... du hast mich … GERETTET!
Ich bin noch ... am ... Leben? Ich bin noch am Leben! – Deinetwegen!
Jo? Was?
Krankenwagen ... gut ... Krankenwagen hört sich gut an ... Nur noch ein wenig durchhalten ... nur noch ein klein wenig ...
Kalt ... Jo! Hier ... Jo ... mir ist kalt!
Wer hat ... wieso ist es auf einmal so laut?
Wo kommen ... wo kommen ... diese vielen ... diese vielen Menschen ... auf einmal her?
Was? Alles wird gut? Glaubst du ... ist das so?
Bitte Jo? Du bleibst doch bei mir ... JO!
"Bleibhier!"
Geh nicht weg, bitte Jo! JO ...

QUESTION
Honestly, it was rather difficult for me to find an access to this person's thoughts. To not have the slightest idea, what a person in such a strange situation would think. So finally, in a way I tried to recover, what I'd felt when I broke my leg many years ago, to transfer at least some body reactions.
And I've learnt something more: even such a small scene better demands kind of research ... for technical details or emergency plans.
How else could you achieve to sound your story realistic?

---
Continue with Exercise 12: I, You, He, She, It - Perspectives

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Wreck This Journal: Doodle Over Top Of This Page And In The Margins.

(Note: Taken from my Edition of "Wreck This Journal")



This page is dedicated to the titular saint of my online avatar: Nofretiri AKA Nefertari, first wife of the great Pharaoh Ramses II. The hieroglyphs are copies from her tomb in the Valley of the Queens, with the only difference that the originals are much more beautiful, because they are fully colored!

I used ink for the hieroglyphs - and btw: ink is an awful material to use on that pages - and soft pastel chalks for the background.

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One-Minute-Writer: Week 42

(Note: These are writing prompts of "One-Minute-Writer-Blog")

Monday, October-18: Wrong. Look around you right now. What's wrong with this picture?
It's already dark ... *sigh* ... I miss the summer and days with light evenings, sitting outside, enjoying the warmth, together with some friends, a cool drink and a nice barbecue!

Tuesday, October-19: Ghostwriter. If you could be a ghostwriter (writing someone else's autobiography for them), for whom would you ghostwrite?
*hmm* It already exists a very elaborated Shah Rukh Khan story and he's also writing his own! Unfortunately I'm too late for a family history, almost everyone I could ask is dead. Well then, who would I like to accompany and ask about his/her life? Maybe a famous writer like Stephen King or J.R. Ward, maybe Vera F. Birkenbihl, my personal role model of a successful, extraordinary, intelligent, charismatic trainer. Yeah, that would be cool!

Wednesday, October-20: Bird. If you could become a bird perched in a tree, where would the tree be? What would you want to observe?
I instantly thought of the tree in the sanctuary of the Scribe Virgin. Unfortunately this is a fictitious place in the 'Black Dagger Brotherhood' book series. Well, a real place then: I would prefer a huge tree deep in the Indian jungle. A place, barely untouched by men, perfectly for the observation of the last Bengali tigers.

Thursday, October-21: Clothes. What do the clothes you're wearing now say about you?
I'm home, the workday is over, I'm comfortable and ready to relax on the couch.

Friday, October-22: Chocolate. Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt "Chocolate".
Brian looked proudly over the lovely decorated table. He, Mr. Fastfood-Microwave-Man had really managed a self-cooked dinner. Okay, he had driven his sister almost nuts with all his every 5 minutes emergency calls, but he wanted everything to be perfect. Thankfully, Beth had given him all the advices he needed. She had also realized how much he had changed. It was unbelievable, but for Mary, the love of his life, he would do everything. Including cooking!
First dish had went all well, honestly, you couldn't do much wrong with a simple salad and yoghurt dressing. Now was steak and baked potatoes on the plan. But Brian set all his hopes in the dessert: strawberries with cream. They would hopefully both sit out in the garden, down on a neat picnic blanket, he feeding her and maybe ... maybe he could rob a little kiss or two. Because one thing he knew for sure, her kisses would be sweeter than any fruit, sweeter than cream, even sweeter than chocolate!

Saturday, October-23: Ah-choo! When someone sneezes, many people say, "Bless you!" or "Gesundheit!" Come up with an alternate response to sneezes.
I would prefer saying nothing at all. Why should pay extra attention to an illness or an allergy??

Sunday, October-24: Make it work. How do you "make it work" (whatever "it" is)?
Switch off. Count to 30. Switch on. Swear silently. Hit that stupid thing with the hand. Howl because of the pain. Swear loudly. Wander around, think deeply what to do. Decide to make an emergency call to a friend, report hysterically that this stupid thing doesn't work. Urge the friend to come immediately. Friend makes a short inspection, gives me a sarcastically look and points to the jack, because that 'stupid non working thing' is offline!

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My Writing Journey

(Note: This is my contribution to Dolly's guest post series.)

I'm an owl. I like the night. Nights are quite and peaceful. During these late night hours my brain seems to be the most productive. I'm a bit nervous about that interview thing, so my dear friend Dolly had friendly agreed to do it on my terms.
On a Friday night, about 11 p.m. Dolly enters the door to my private Room of Requirement. It seems to be a library, because of all the book shelves. To our right a huge glass front opens an amazing view over the gardens, but now you can only see the reflections of the room and my desk stuffed with papers, colors and lots of other material for my art (journals). I lead Dolly to the left, where two red, cozy leather armchairs are waiting for us. Because of the inappropriate time I'd ordered a little midnight snack. A big tray full with finger food, fruits and sweets covers the little table between the chairs. It's late October, the perfect excuse to light the fireplace. The flickering flames enlighten the scene magically. The crackle of the wood suits perfectly to the sound of a soft piano in the background. Chopin is playing. I don't know, what Dolly prefers to drink, so I prepared several refreshments. The room is filled with the aromatic smell of fresh coffee, but there's also a decent whiff of wine, which was allowed to breathe in its decanter.
We both sit down, enjoy our late meal. Some light conversation smoothes down my nervousness. But I know it's time to get serious, when Dolly puts her cup of coffee on the table and prepares her pen and paper. I lean back and wait for Dolly to start her questionnaire:

D.G.: "What do you write?"

Ah well, a fully grown author can answer that question straight away. But I'm just a student, who's still matriculated in the big school of writing:
You know, Writing-Kindergarten taught me the basic abilities of writing and reading. In Writing-Primary-School I've discovered that words are more than just plain reading, they are the entrance to whole new worlds. Reaching the level of Writing-High-School marked the beginning of my own writing. Experimenting with words and styles of writing formed my first short stories. Now, I'm a Writing-College-student, who learns about writing-theory, makes her practical writing-exercises, discusses with fellow students and authors about writing-topics. I guess I'm about to graduate. There's a novella called 'Voodoo Island', which is supposed to be my dissertation.
To cut a long story short, with that story in mind, you will find my books in the shelves entitled with 'Adventure' or 'Mystery' or 'Fantasy'.

D.G.: "How long have you been writing?"

The better question would be 'How long have you been telling stories?'. I have that very strong memory, sitting right next to my grandfather, in his car. He'd just picked me up from Kindergarten and I was talking and talking and talking. So eager to tell him the latest news and stories, discussing with him all my important issues. He was so patient with me and I loved it!
Writing simply gave me the opportunity to use another media with the advantage to make my stories a bit more permanent. And, who knows, maybe even eternal.

D.G.: "What got you started?"

It's very obvious, isn't it? Nothing but the desperate need to tell stories.

D.G.: "A Few important lessons you have learned along the way."

For quite a while now I ponder over the question, if destiny and muse are two fancifully, unpredictable women or if goddesses really just move in mysterious ways.
Look, I've been given those fantastic images in my head. Some beautiful become alive in my travel-journals. Some weird find their way into my dream-diary. Some funny just bust out while composing my emails. I also dare to say, that muse was so nice to grant me a quantum talent to bring those images properly to paper.
Alas, I'm still missing this one special thought. That one unique idea, that ignites me to develop an adventurous plot and great heroes and evil villains and passionate women and exotic places - everything exciting and big enough for a complete book.
I'm frightened that I've maybe already been given this one special thought, but I've literally missed it! That I haven't paid enough attention, haven't noticed it!
So, my advice to myself and everybody else: Pay attention to your senses. Everything you can see, hear, smell, taste or feel could be the sparkle of inspiration. Let these sparkles swirl around your head, transform and develop. Listen to your inner voices. Destiny and muse will let you know, when it's the right time for creativity!

D.G.: "What priority writing is in your life at the moment? Is it a hobby, career, potential career?"

Well, I was not destined to become one of those natural-born-writers, no professional author the caliber of a Stephen King. I'm totally fine with that. Lucky me, I love the job I have already ... or instead. So, this little girl still dreams the writers' fairytale, to have one day that unique idea and write a brilliant book. I don't need to be Germany's Stephenie Meyer ... oh, I won't repulse it ... I would be happy enough to publish a fine book with good reviews.
Until this miracle happens, I'll keep on writing down the images and voices in my head for my own enjoyment. Now and then, but as regularly as I'm used to do now.

D.G.: "Can you see yourself writing for the rest of your life, regardless of financial / popular success?"

'Can I see myself NOT writing?' I don't think so. Sometimes I feel like a schizophrenic, who has to write down the stories to ban them out of my head. Else it would become very crowded in there!

D.G.: "Anything else you may want to add?"

What could I say, that hasn't been said before? What could I say, that you haven't heard before? What could I say, that hasn't been written about?
Even these words have been said before ... I just say: Thank you for having me on the show. You've been very gracious with your time and patience. Thank you, Dolly, my dear friend.

Dolly has finished her last question and the silence between us is a friendly one, peaceful. At least, that's how I perceive it. After a while Dolly packs her things and I accompany her to the door. With her gone, my private Room of Requirement slowly vanishes into the darkness of the night ... I find myself sitting in front of my computer, it's 2 a.m. in the morning, writing the last few lines to close the door to this other world.

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Wreck This Journal: Write One Word Over And Over.

(Note: Taken from my Edition of "Wreck This Journal")



...with a little help from TTF! ;-)
Used fonts (in alphabetical order): 101 Zebra Print, BD Renaissance, Bumbazoid, Carnivale, CrazyZoo, Christmas Lights Outdoor, DirtyBaker'sDozen, Fiolex Girls, Fish in the bathroom, LoopDeLoop, Mutlu, Never Writes Back, Olde English, OrnaMental, Prakrta, Romantic, Stiletto, Tolo ... and my own handwriting.

Plus one passion-KANJI.

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One-Minute-Writer: Week 41

(Note: These are writing prompts of "One-Minute-Writer-Blog")

Monday, October-11: Discovery. Write about a good discovery you've made (big or small!)
Myself. It's surprising, what sometimes my body is capable of. It's amazing, which hidden talents suddenly break free. It's interesting, what different topics I'm obviously interested in. I'm the biggest quest for myself, to discover all the unknown sides of me. Okay, these discoveries are not all the time 'good', but always exciting!

Tuesday, October-12: Compliment. How do you react when someone compliments you?
Honestly, I'm not the type of person, who gets compliments very often. But, if honestly given, I've learnt to simply accept them, I'm enjoyed and pleased, and I say 'Thanks!' with a likewise honestly smile.

Wednesday, October-13: Animal. If you could have one skill that a particular animal has, what animal/skill would you choose?
I've always been a cats' person. I adore the pliableness of their movements, the strength of their bodies, their ability of night sight, their fine sensibility. It's difficult to select just one skill, I want to have the full package! And talking about that ... isn't there any feline creature in mythology, that has wings, too?

*hmm* I think, that's the point! It's not a single skill that makes you unique, but a good combination of several ones!

Thursday, October-14: Lost. Write about a time you lost something.
There was a dark time in my life when I'd almost lost myself. It's hard to think of that era, it felt like a pitch black darkness with no interests, no feelings ... nothing. But like early morning dawn defeats the darkness, the light has come back into my life. And now I understand the words of a wise man: "You can't appreciate the light, when you've never experienced the darkness."

Friday, October-15: Castle. Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt "Castle".
Once upon a time there was a prince. He was a very handsome man with a splendorous figure and a lovely face. As beautiful he was from the outside, as ugly he was from the inside. He was selfish, moody and cruel to everyone. His mother didn't see his bad behavior, because she loved him too much. His father didn't see it either, because he was a great knight, very often gone fighting in war.
One day the prince had gone too far. He insulted and mistreated an old bondmaid very badly. But the old woman wasn't just an old woman. She was a powerful witch. As punishment she transfigured the prince into an ugly gargoyle, damned to stand on the highest tower of the castle. Once a year the witch granted him to come down as a human and spend one day among his people.
After the first year the prince's behavior hadn't improved, on the contrary. He was full of anger and terrorized everyone in the castle. The witch, who had watched everything secretly, decided to prolong his time as a gargoyle to five years.
The next few times the prince became a human, he tried to control his bad temper, but it wasn't really any better. His mother couldn't stand this no longer, finally she died out of grief. His father followed her shortly. The prince, still narrow minded, blamed not his own behavior, but only the witches' curse. This made the witch to prolong his time as a gargoyle to ten years.
The decades went by and everyone the prince once know were gone. A century later the prince heard some rumors the witch had died. He hoped with the witch gone her curse would be gone, too. The day came for him to become a human, but the following day, he found himself again as the ugly gargoyle. This made him slowly change his mind and think of other ways than cruelty how to break the curse.
Ten years ago, exactly on the day when he was a human, the prince attended a masquerade in the castle. There he had met a young girl. He told her the 'fairytale' of the prince and the gargoyle. The girls sympathy and her lovely, soft attitude caused a sting in the princes chest, he had never felt before. On the end of the day, he told the girl, that he had to go abroad for ten years, but he wished to see her again. She agreed.
In a few days these ten years would be over. The prince could hardly anticipating the day. But he was also full of fear. Ten years could be a very long time. The girl would be a young woman now. Would she be there at all? For the very first time in his whole life the prince felt something else than fury and anger, the first time his thoughts concerned not himself but for someone else.
Will he see her again? Could there be any change in his life? What would this day bring? ... What do YOU think?

Saturday, October-16: Six Word Saturday. Describe your life in six words.
Days are passing at fast rate!

Sunday, October-17: Ruler. If and when you become the Supreme Ruler of the World, who will be your top advisor?
Honestly, I'd prefer someone else to do that job. And please, let ME be the top advisor!

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Wreck This Journal: Press Leaves And Other Found Things.

(Note: Taken from my Edition of "Wreck This Journal")



*hmm* What to say about this page???

1. The oval with the quote is made on computer, printed out and glued on the page. And btw, the quote is:

I look upon life as a book,

and the people I love are like rose petals

kept in between the pages.

Each time I turn a page of my life,

I find a rose petal, reminding me of beautiful moments.

2. Another job for glue-impregnation. Covered the whole page with glue to protect the pages and conserve everything.
3. Glue pressed rose petals and rose leaves on the page.
4. Finally another layer of glue to conserve everything.
Let everything dry! And DONE!

Now, I already have 3 pages with SMELL:
(1) Spice Bazaar (Various Substances)
(2) Plastic Tape (Sticky Things)
(3) And now rose petals
I wonder, how my true smell-page could ever cover all these!

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One-Minute-Writer: Week 40

(Note: These are writing prompts of "One-Minute-Writer-Blog")

Monday, October-04: Campfire. Write about a memory you have related to a campfire. (If you don't have any such memories, write about any fire-related memory.)
I had completely forgotten that episode *lol*:
Imagine four saucy teenage girls, a meadow at the gates of a little village and a tent. OMG, we hadn't had a glue of how to camp or how to light a campfire, but we were young, independent, full of energy ... and had a blast of a time!

Tuesday, October-05: Blind. Write about what type of "selective blindness" you'd like to have (an inability to see something in particular.)
I have two cats, two long-haired cats. I also have all gadgets for hair-free clothes, as well as different brushes and a special adapter for my vacuum cleaner. Despite that it's hard to achieve to get rid of really each single hair. So, you can say I've developed a "selective blindness" to my cats' hair, a picky person, who comes into my house, probably wouldn't have! *meow* =^..=

Wednesday, October-06: Purchase. Write about a purchase you made that was not worth the money.
Obviously I haven't made any mispurchases lately, so let me think another minute ... with still my cats in mind:
The range and variety of cat-toys is simply amazing. Each promises loads of entertainment and hours and hours of joyful play. I'm just a poor 'can-opener', easy to seduce, buying a lot of those magnificent products. And my cats? They gave them a little sniff, with some good luck a few minutes of interest ... and ignored them! Well, obviously they haven't read the advertisement! =^..^=

EDIT: Another win as Daily Winner! *yeah*

Thursday, October-07: Lie. Write about a time someone told you a lie when you were growing up.
'It doesn't take long.'
'We're soon there.'
'Just a minute, dear.'
Every single time I've heard sentences like that: A lie!

Friday, October-08: Secret. Write a brief bit of fiction using the prompt "Secret".
Dear Jane,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. Or arrives you at all? You'll never know, if stagecoaches are reliable. Please reassure me with your next message, that you've received my lines. And that it was you, who broke the wax seal. The seal was still intact, wasn't it? Please, sooth my fears! Immediately!
You'll never believe what just had happened?
Please do excuse my bad hand writing. I'm still so excited and my hand is trembling. I can't even breathe and my head swirls that much, that I can't think clearly.
Before I tell you, what had happened, you have to swear me with everything that is precious for you, that you read this message all alone! You don't share these news with no one, and 'no one' includes your sister! It would be better you burn the paper after reading it! These information are so explosive, it's very unseemly that a girl like me knows about. I know, I can trust you, that you can keep a secret! Something I can't. I don't have the strength to remain quiet. Please forgive my weakness! You are my best friend, my closest confident, my beloved sister in hearts.
So, please, take your seat, stay quiet, when I tell you now, that

...that WHAT??? Come on, Lizzy! Please! Do not tell me, you have forgotten to add the second piece of paper to your letter?

Saturday, October-09: Who. Answer the owl's question. ("Who?")
Who?
Me.
Who?
Karin.
Who?
A human.
Who?
A 34-year-old female, a lecturer, a cats owner, a passionate reader and a wanna-be-writer.
Who?
Isn't that enough?
Who?
Well, then I have to think 'who' else I am!

Sunday, October-10: Lazy. What is your favorite lazy way to spend a day?
Oh, that's easy. Give me a good book or two. Enough groceries to not leave the house. And please, bad weather would be perfect.

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Writing Exercise 10: Plot Of Plots - A Hero's Journey, Part 2

(Note: This is a unit of "Schreibaufgabe.de")

THE CHALLENGE
Let's continue the journey with steps 7 to 12. Remember the 3 options for each step.

MY OUTCOME
Again, I stuck with Corin's story and ignored the 3 options:

7. The heroine meets the enemies' helper and has to defeat them.

• Circumstances make Corin believe, that the mistress's daughter is her enemy, too.
• Accidentally she gets a letter of her in her hands. The analphabetic Corin of the past remembers the reading skills of her future self and is able to read the letter.
• She finds out, that the daughter is just another figure of her mothers' chess game. She is secretly in love with a knight's son.
• Corin and the daughter become allies.

8. The heroine …. She meets her true enemy and has to fight him.

• A girl, in peculiar a plain maiden, is rather helpless in these ancient days. The intrigue of the mistress had worked.
• The evil knight is ordered to get rid of Corin.

9. The heroine dies. It doesn't have to be a real death, but more the heroine's personality. She can't pass the challenge, when she keeps her actual personality. This event marks the low point of the heroine and naturally the climax of the plot.

• Corin dies in the past. She wakes up in the present.
• She wants to know more about the (possible) events in the past and begins to research.
• It's hard to find any facts. At the same time she feels secretly observed.

10. The heroine defeats the enemy. Maybe with the help of her friends. All powers were mobilized. If the heroine really dies, the fight is decided with her death.

• Corin finds out, who's observing her. She meets Stephan. The ill son of the castle's owner.
• With his help she has access to more private documents and both can solve the riddle of the past.
• With a trick the mistress' daughter made everybody believe, she instead of Corin had died. The daughter could ran away with her beloved one and started a happy life.
• The mistress could "arrange" the facts, that it seemed that the lord's son had killed the girl. He was condemned with capital punishment.
• The lord himself died soon out of grief.
• The evil knight and the mistress reigned the castle and dark times came over the village.

11. The heroine can conquer the 'reward'. The reward could be a change in her personality, too. She can also conquer a real 'trophy'.

• It's almost a history repeating, but the motivation is not power, but money.
• Flashbacks help Corin to discover, that Stephan's stepmother is secretly poisoning him. She wants him dead like his father, to lay hands on his immense trust fund.
• Together they can prove Stephan's stepmother guilty of crime.
• Stephan becomes healthy again.

12. The heroine starts her way back. While the way back the change of personality occurs very clearly. The heroine registers, that a simple return to her normal life isn't possible any more.

• Corin and Stephan fall in love.
• As soon as Corin turns 18 they get married and Corin lives with Stephan in the castle the happy life, that was already destined for both of them centuries ago.

QUESTION
I was also considering to bring in an "evil knight" in the present time, but somehow I felt, this could be too much! It's just the idea of a plot, who knows how the story unfolds while writing and editing it!

What do you think about the plot?

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Continue with Exercise 11: Sources For Ideas

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Writing Exercise 09: Plot Of Plots - A Hero's Journey, Part 1

(Note: This is a unit of "Schreibaufgabe.de")

THE CHALLENGE
"A Hero's Journey" is a plot, on which a lot of mythologies are based on. For sure, while following the steps of the basic structure, you'll remember a lot of books or films with a similar form.

The task is to use the protagonist from Exercise 07 and plot steps 1 to 6. Each step should have 3 options, minimum! Okay, let's have look on the steps:

MY OUTCOME
Well, after writing the beginning of Corin's story, I decided to make her "Heroine's Journey":

1. You'll start with the heroine's everyday life. You show her usual environment.

• Corin is an almost 17 year old, ordinary teenage girl.
• She lives in a small town with a castle.
• While her parents are modern orientated, Corin is attracted by the castle.

Well, I guess, that's what I've already done in Exercise 09.

2. The heroine is called to her task. An adventures starts, a chance is given, etc.

• Corin visits a medieval festival in the castle and has lots of fun with the all the attractions there.
• She falls asleep (better, hits her head and get unconscious), after waking up, she finds herself in the past.

3. The heroine refuses to accept the task.

• She's differently dressed, disorientated and has lost most of her memory.
• She experiences the market place differently.

4. The journey starts, when the heroine had found a mentor, who persuades her to make the journey.

• An elderly friend finds Corin lost in the market. She helps her to get well again.
• Corin is a simple bondmaid, who works in the castle's kitchen. Her mother is dead, her father is the castle's baker.

5. After making the first step, there is no turn back.

• She starts to connect the memories and feelings from the future and the past.
• But she doesn't have a glue, how she had come here, what she's doing here or how she gets back.

6. Not everything is going on well, first problems appear. The heroine masters these alone or with the help of allies. She also meets her first enemies. She has to force the task.

• Corin begins to live her life in the past.
• She meets the lord of the castle's son and both fall in love.
• The second wife of the lord of the castle doesn't allow this alliance, because she wants her own daughter to be on this place. She plots some bad intrigues against Corin.
• There is also an elderly, cruel knight, who wants to rape Corin.

QUESTION
No questions this time!

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Continue with Exercise 10: Plot Of Plots - A Hero's Journey, Part 2

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Wreck This Journal: Make A Sudden, Destructive, Unpredictable Movement With The Journal.

(Note: Taken from my Edition of "Wreck This Journal")



As a matter of prudence, I "impregnated" the pages first with glue. After letting everything dry I give the pages a WAX treatment! Honestly, I thought the effect would have been better. Maybe if I'd used quality wax candles! I only used cheap little birthday letter candles to get all those different colors. But it's okay, for my taste it's really something destructive!

What a mess!*ggg*

Oh and btw: It's very breakable, too ... had to cover it with another layer of glue!
OMG, I should make adds for glue! *lol*

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Writing Exercise 08: A Photo As Inspiration

(Note: This is a unit of "Schreibaufgabe.de")

THE CHALLENGE
There are many possibilities to set ideas and creativity in motion. One is to use a picture.

Write 1000 words to this picture. If you don't have any ideas, start with a description and then go with the flow. It doesn't matter, if the outcome is a story or not.
After finishing your text, wait for at least two days. Then edit your text and mark the lines you like. Ignore the parts you don't like.

MY OUTCOME
I needed a while to get into the right writing mood for this. When I'd found my plot idea, the words fell very easily into place. With surprise I registered, after 1066 words (in the German draft), I just had written the intro to the story I had in mind. I hope you enjoy reading the beginning.

Note: I haven't had the time for translation yet, but when I started the first lines I registered that there is a lot of medieval related vocabulary I had to look up to! So, for the moment just the German version.

Corin und die Burgverschwörung
Man schrieb das Jahr 1219 als die Burg oben auf dem Berg fertig gestellt worden war. Seit dem thronte sie herrschaftlich über der Ansiedlung zu ihren Füßen. Viele Menschengenerationen kamen und gingen. Bis auf den Dom, der erst viele, viele Jahre später erbaut worden war, wurden auch die meisten Häuser zerstört und wieder aufgebaut. Während also die Burg im Laufe der Jahrhunderte Veränderung über Veränderung von dort oben zu sehen bekam, hatten die Menschen zu ihren Füßen einen ganz anderen Eindruck. Wenn sie nach oben sahen war da die Burg, stark, majestätisch, unveränderlich. Sie war schon da gewesen als sie geboren wurden und sie würde auch noch lange nach ihrem Tod da sein.

Genauso empfand Corin. Die Burg war nunmehr seit fast 17 Jahren ein Teil ihrer Heimatstadt. Aber da war noch viel mehr. Da war diese seltsame Anziehungskraft. Jedes Mal, wenn sie zur Schule ging oder mit ihren Freundinnen in der Stadt unterwegs war, fiel ihr Blick hinauf zur Burg. Mit jedem Blick fühlte sie so viel mehr, so ein Ziehen in der Brust, etwas, das sie sich einfach nicht erklären konnte.

Als Corin noch ein Kind war, musste sie lange betteln, bis ihr endlich jemand den Wunsch erfüllte und mit ihr hinauf zur Burg ging. Das Problem waren ihre Eltern oder vielmehr ihre Einstellung. Sie waren der Typ moderner Mensch, für die nur der Fortschritt und die Technik und das Moderne zählten. Mit harter Arbeit in den Modernen Medien hatten sie es zu gewissem Wohlstand gebracht. Und genau das zählte für sie. Alles andere war rückständig, antiquiert, veraltet und somit auch nicht interessant. Die Burg fiel in diese Kategorie.

Das Argument, sie wäre noch zu klein für eine Burgbesichtigung, konnten sie nicht allzu lange verwenden. Spätestens als in Heimatkunde die Geschichte der Burg behandelt wurde und sie einen Schulausflug dorthin machten, konnten Corin's Eltern nichts mehr dagegen sagen. Corin bekam ihren Willen. Nun, nicht ganz. Wie das so ist mit Schulausflügen, man musste genau das tun, was die Lehrer einem sagten und durfte sich auch nur genau das anschauen, was sie für interessant hielten. Alle anderen spannenden Bereiche waren tabu. Somit bekam Corin nur teilweise Einblick in das Leben auf der Burg. Aber es reichte ihr, um zu wissen, dass sie die Burg aus der Nähe noch um Längen interessanter war als aus der Ferne.

Ihre Eltern hatten sie schon früh zur Selbständigkeit erzogen, was auch nötig war, sie waren viel und oft beruflich unterwegs. Sie musste nur ein bisschen mehr Geduld haben und alt genug werden, um noch die lästigen Kindermädchen loszuwerden. Von da an gab es für Corin kein Halten mehr. Das großzügig zugedachte Taschengeld reichte locker für ein Jahresticket zur Burg und so war sie in den letzen Jahren viele Male dort gewesen. Sie hatte jede neue Ausstellung besucht und jeden zugänglichen Winkel erforscht. Bei den seltenen Gelegenheiten des "Offenen Denkmals" konnte sie sogar den einen oder anderen sehnsüchtigen Blick in die sonst versperrten Räume werfen.

Jedes Mal, wenn sie auf der Burg herumschlenderte, stellte sich wieder dieses altvertraute Gefühl ein. Sah sie im Inneren auf die dicken, steinernen Mauern, so gaben diese ihr ein Gefühl der Sicherheit. Die alten, ehrwürdigen Bäume schienen ihr mit ihrem Blätterrauschen alt bekannte Lieder vorzusingen. Und als sie eines Tages die ehemalige Küche der Burg besichtigen konnte, schien ihr Herz ganz besonders aufgeregt zu klopfen. Corin verstand das ganz und gar nicht, waren doch die Gewölbe der Kerker um einiges düsterer und die ausgestellten Folterwerkzeuge um einiges unheimlicher als diese gewöhnliche Küche.

Seit nunmehr ein paar Wochen freute sich Corin besonders auf das bevorstehende Mittelalterfestival. Ein solches hatte sie bisher noch nicht besucht und die Ankündigungen in den Prospekten klangen vielversprechend. Die Rede war von Garküchen, die Fleisch und Fisch, Wurst und Käse an ihre hungrige Kundschaft brachten. Die durstigen Kehlen sollen gelöscht werden mit frisch gebrautem Bier und würzigem Wein. Marketender und Handwerker zeigen ihre Handwerkskunst und bieten Waren, ob nützlich oder nicht, feil. Auch für Unterhaltung wird gesorgt: Gaukler und Musikanten, Feuerspucker und Geschichtenerzähler. Ganze drei Tage sollte das Spektakel Leben aus vergangenen Tagen in die wehrhafte Burg bringen.

Ganz gemäß der Tradition der Zeit wollte sich Corin auch kleiden. Leider kann man heutzutage nur schwer in eine moderne Boutique gehen und einfach so ein Mittelalterkleid kaufen. Sie wollte auch etwas individuelles, ganz nach ihren Vorstellungen haben. Also hatte sie sich im Internet informiert, Schnittmuster bestellt, Stoffe gekauft und viele Stunden an der Nähmaschine verbracht. Nur gut, dass ihre Mutter nicht zu Hause war. Weniger wegen der Spleenigkeit ihrer Tochter, sie hatte schon längst aufgegeben die Interessen ihres Kindes zu verstehen, aber wohl eher wegen den beständigen Flüchen, die Corin während ihrer Näherei von sich gab. So etwas wie Nähen oder Stricken hatte sie nie gelernt, es war einfach nicht nötig gewesen. Aber jetzt wollte sie unbedingt, dass es IHR Kleid war. Es war ihr wichtig!

Tatsächlich, gerade einen Tag vor Beginn des Festivals hatte Corin endlich ihr Kleid fertig! Es war ein Traum in beige-weißem, feinem Leinen, das elegant an ihrem Körper schmiegte. Die langen dunkelroten Fledermausärmeln aus Samt reichten, ebenso wie das Kleid, bis auf den Boden. Besonders stolz war sie auf die raffinierte Schnürung, die ihren zierlichen Busen besonders hübsch zur Geltung brachte. Um das Erscheinungsbild zu vervollständigen hatte sie aus ihrem schulterlangen, hellbraunen Haar eine raffinierte Hochsteckfrisur gezaubert. Die wenigen Perlen im Haar waren ihr einziger Schmuck. Auch auf Schminke hatte sich fast völlig verzichtet. Das war auch gar nicht nötig, ihr natürlicher, jugendlicher Teint schimmerte in freudiger Erwartung auf das Fest. Nur ihre schönen, saphir-blauen Augen hatte sie mit ein wenig schwarzer Wimperntusche betont. Die leichten, aber bequemen Leinenschuhe passten nicht so ganz zum Outfit, aber sie waren unter dem langem Kleid ohnehin nicht zu sehen. Den einzigen Abstrich, den sie der Moderne zugestand, war die kleine Handtasche, die sie mitzunehmen gedenkte, oder vielmehr die kleine Digitalkamera darin. Sie hatte vor, das Ereignis in vielen, wertvollen Bildern festzuhalten, um noch lange danach davon zehren zu können.

Endlich war der große Tag gekommen. Sorgfältig zurechtgemacht, reihte sie sich in die Besucherscharen ein, die alle in Richtung Burg strömten. Den einen oder anderen anerkennenden Blick, den man ihr jetzt schon zuwarf, nahm sie gar nicht wahr. Ihr ganzes Denken war ausschließlich auf das bevorstehende Festival gerichtet. Was würde sie nicht alles erleben? Was sie dann letztendlich tatsächlich erlebte, das hätte sich Corin nicht mal in ihren kühnsten Träumen vorstellen können.

QUESTION
What do you think, shall I continue the story about betrayal, murder and love?
I decided to use Corin's story plot for Exercise 10!

Oh, and btw: There is a wonderful blog, where "a new photo will be posted each day to encourage your mind's eye." Every day of the week has a different theme to write about, like memories, short story, thoughts, etc.: Write With Pictures

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Continue with Exercise 09: Plot Of Plots - A Hero's Journey, Part 1

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One-Minute-Writer: Week 39

(Note: These are writing prompts of "One-Minute-Writer-Blog")

Monday, September-27: Tie. What feud, contest, or debate should be proclaimed a tie?
I'd like to quote Hank, who wrote:
Charlene was insistent. "It's a cravat!"
"No, it's an ascot," said her brother.
"Mom!" They yelled simultaneously. Showing her the picture, Eric asked, "What is this called?"
Their mother looked at the picture and at each face expecting to be right.
"It's a tie," she said.

This is absolutely fantastic! *ggg* This isn't surpassable! Period!

Tuesday, September-28: Role. Think about the various roles you play in your life. If you had to give up all but one, which one would you keep?
The creative role in me. The person, who is able to enjoy the arts of reading, writing, drawing and art journaling ... and hope it's well enough developed to earn my money for living!

Wednesday, September-29: Meal. Write about the who, what, and where of your ideal meal.
This is easy! My perfect meal would be a laaarge buffet with a looot of different dishes. So I can have a spoon full of Egyptian Tahina with some Aish Baladi and little portion of Indian Chicken and taste a bit of Italian pasta. And some Sushi and not to forget some Mousse-o-chocolate! And talking about the 'where', I would prefer an outdoor buffet in the evening, somewhere in a garden, near the ocean, beautifully enlighten with lampions.

Thursday, September-30: Sign. What traffic sign best reflects your life right now?

Road work ahead. Not only right now, in general I think it's hard work to find out, what you want to do with your life, you work on your relationships, you work on your skills, you work on yourself to become a better person, etc. If you stop 'working' you're dead!Oh and btw: Work doesn’t exclude fun!

Friday, October-01: Interview. Write a brief bit of fiction about an interview, or write the transcript of a brief, fictional interview.
These are 5 selected questions taken from a forum-game called '5 questions':
1. As a child you always wanted to be like ...?
... my Mom!
2. What is temptation for you?
Definitively: Books! Traveling, chocolate and Shah Rukh Khan.
3. If you are allowed to eat only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
First I'd thought of chocolate, but then I changed my mind for fruits! More choice! *g*
4. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Yes!
5. How do you drink your coffee?
Lots of milk, one or two sugar (depends on the mug's size).

Saturday, October-02: Saturday. Make up a story about how "Saturday" got its name.
There was a time on earth when magical creatures weren't parts of myths and legends, but real and alive. Like the Satyrs. Once a week they seduced all the humans to sing and dance and drink and inappropriate behavior. The day after was supposed to be the day, where the humans should honor their Gods and Goddesses, who provided everyone on earth with the good. But because of the intoxicating feasts, the humans weren't able to. The Gods and Goddesses got angry, punished the apostates and banned the Satyrs from the world. But to remember that it's in their power to change fate, they named the former day of the feasts 'Satyrday'.

Sunday, October-03: Antique. What item would you prefer to own as an antique, instead of new?
Cheese, salami, whine, Parma ham, etc.

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Wreck This Journal: The Story Of The Ugly Little Book.

Once upon a time there was a little book in a book store. With its neat black cover and its clean white pages it was dreaming of how wonderful it would be to become one day someone's most favorite book. It was so excited when finally its new mistress took it with home. Soon all its dreams would come true. It would be read and it could stand proudly in a pretty book shelf between all its read brothers and sisters. But all its hopes and dreams were destroyed. Itself was being destroyed. Almost certainly as punishment, because on its beautiful pages was not much to read. Instead they were doodled on, glued, scratched, pocked und God knows how many other different terrible things made with. No miracle, that its mistress didn't want it to put it with the other beautiful books in the shelf, while in the meantime dirty tricks were played with it. When the mistress also began taking pictures, the little book wished, all its pages were burnt on that one occasion. But then something totally unexpected happened, something the little book hadn't planned on. Oh, how it envied the mistress' other books, they were read und put into the book shelf. One day the little book noticed, that it was itself, that was always at arm's length of the mistress. Very often she took the little book in her hand and skimmed lost in thought through its pages. Still pages were destroyed, but these new pages were treated now with deference. It even opined, that the mistress' finger treated those pages very carefully, almost tenderly. It has also become a permanent companion of the mistress und so the little book met a lot of other people. It was totally surprised by the other's reactions on its deformed pages, it was so completely different than expected. The people did not consider the pages ugly, not in the slightest. On the contrary. They were enthusiastic, they liked them, they called them beautiful! And then the little book conceived. Sometimes you don't need a neat black cover and clean white pages to become someone's most favorite book. Now it was glad about its doodled, glued, scratched, pocked otherness und gleamed in unique beauty!

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

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