This is not a drabble. This is a 200 word story. It's my blog and I can do whatever I want.
This story is inspired by the recent reports of the horribly mutated fish and crustaceans that are still being found as a result of the BP oil spill of 2010. I won't try to find a link to articles about those poor creatures, because then I might see pictures, and... well, the Abigail has been bugging me to get more sleep. You can google it if you're interested. And masochistic.
This story is inspired by the recent reports of the horribly mutated fish and crustaceans that are still being found as a result of the BP oil spill of 2010. I won't try to find a link to articles about those poor creatures, because then I might see pictures, and... well, the Abigail has been bugging me to get more sleep. You can google it if you're interested. And masochistic.
This story is also not a part of a world I've already worked in. Though, now I kind of want to.
Incidentally, I think that I like 200 words a lot more than 100. I know that part of the point of drabbles is to help me develop my literary discipline. However, I feel that it's practically impossible to really express anything in 100 words. There are some exceptions, but I feel that most drabbles are almost identical. With only 100 words to work with, stories develop a certain rhythm that is hard to break out of, and the author's own voice becomes indistinct. I want to work on my discipline, but I'd like to find a sweet spot where I can work on both my discipline and my voice.
The long and the short of it is that you'll probably see 200 word stories on a fairly regular basis.
Earthblood
By Mark L.S. Stone
“How is this possible?” Lady Trentine demanded.
“The Earthblood is still a mystery,” Illyanor replied. “But my theurgists believe that it may be rendered, by natural processes, from the remains of ancient life.”
A gasp ran through the room. Power rendered from death. Necromancy. It had been illegal in the Republic for centuries.
“Does the Northern Coalition know?” another asked.
“Of course they know!” Illyanor snapped. “All of this has been either willfully ignored by or intentionally hidden by the Northern Coalition and Earthblood Discovery Company. That is not the question!”
Illyanor caught my eye and nodded almost imperceptibly. I stood smoothly, letting my hooded cloak fall to the floor. All who looked at me recognized Gallus Franz, the Kaiserin’s only son.
“The question is,” I declared, “what are we going to do about it?”
2 comments:
You did an introductory paragraph instead of a story again. ;-)
What are you complaining about. You got a beginning. You got a middle. You got a... well, two out of three ain't bad.
Post a Comment