Jacob Answers Questions

1. Where did you come from? A little village called Runtford, near the castle.
2. How old are you? I don't know -- you will have to ask Rachel. She remembers ages and birthdays and other similarly useless facts.
3. What are your strengths and weaknesses? Quick mind. Impartial judge of people. Reader of men's characters. Able to spot a lie. Strong sense of right and wrong. Not a lot of patience for silliness. Prone to action (regardless of logic or insurmountable odds) if my sense of right and wrong dictates it.
4. How did you meet Rachel? When I was a boy, there was a bull in a fence behind the blacksmith shop. Everyone knew to leave that bull alone. I was heading home one day, and I saw the bull pawing and snorting. Then I saw this little girl, smaller than myself, standing in the pen like fool. I looked at that pale face that should have been rosy, the dark curly hair, and the big frightened eyes. She was going to get trampled for certain. I couldn't leave her there. I darted into the pen and dragged her to safety.
5. How did you meet the princess? I had been in a cell for weeks, plotting some way of escape. The best I had been able to do was locate the resting place of a set of cell keys. How I was going to retrieve them was a different story. It seemed impossible. Then I heard shuffling footsteps of someone feeling their way through the dark; I was sure one of the prisoners from another tunnel had gotten free. I could hardly believe it. If only I could convince this prisoner to get the keys, we might both have a better chance. But then it turned out that the footsteps did not belong to an escapee after all. They only belonged to a wandering princess. Ha...I knew I couldn't expect much help from that quarter. So that's how we met.

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More Snippets from Snow White Rose Red

One of the shadows moved. “Were you just going to chuck it in there with no thought for the poor folks on the other side?” Flip’s voice drawled out. It was a deep voice and it made my heart skip a beat. He moved away from the trees and came to stand in front of me. “Some hard-working fellow is plowing his field and then – whop! Out of nowhere, a poisoned apple flies out and hits him upside the head.” He clucked his tongue reproachfully.

A Short Story Break

via Pinterest It has been a while since I penned a short story. Usually it takes something like a "short story contest" to inspire me. But I have noticed my writing skills improve with each contest so there is something to be said for writing short stories. I say all this to lead into the fact that I am going to try another short story. There is no contest looming on the horizon, but it has been so long that I think I am due to write a short piece. Life cannot be entirely devoted to novel-length plots... I am rolling around different ideas in my head. There is no one to give me the first three words or a picture to base my story on. There are no restrictions, no props, and no judges. Methinks I will try something that is both epic and ordinary...something I have seen before. After all, personal experience, great things, and the expression of the ordinary are part of what makes a story.

The Countdown: Eight Days

Eight days. Do you know what that means? Barely over a week. Tomorrow will be one week from the announcement date. Are you excited? I am. So, today, I want to talk to those who wrote something for the contest, whether or not you entered it in the end. What made you start writing your story? What was the first inkling of an idea that tickled your brain? What was it that you liked about your premise? As you wrote, did you have a favorite character or a favorite scene? And are you glad you wrote it down? Do you feel like you learned and grew in your ability as a writer as you tried out things for this contest? And, if your story isn't included in this year's Rooglewood anthology (either because you didn't submit it or because it didn't fit with the other four stories selected), what will you do with it? Will you market it elsewhere? Or will you lock it away in a drawer?

The Pen of a Ready Writer

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