One Quirk Later #6~ In Which I Crawl Out Of Writing-Slump Land Long Enough To Say “Dragons”

HELLO, my friends!

Well, I’m just a sad lump of something attached to a couch wondering if it’s time for snacks yet, but GUESS WHO IS BACK. The glorious Jem Jones, that’s who, and she has brought the prompt for Quirk #6 of her One Quirk Later flash fiction series with her. For that we can all rejoice, because we all need more quirks in our lives.

I have participated in two quirks thus far, #4 and #5, and they were both good fun. I have also been trying to turn #5 into a novel shaped thing and it is NOT WORKING.

[Caution: the next bit is an emotionally unstable rant about Writer’s Block and if you want to just skip down to the quirk, please do so. In fact I advise you to do so.]

IT IS NOT WORKING AT ALL and that makes me want to weep.

I may be having a touch of Writer’s Block. I may be feeling a bit dramatic about that. I may be wondering if I will EVER WRITE ANYTHING GOOD AGAIN AND WHAT IS THE POINT OF EXISTING IF I AM ONLY A USELESS POTATO WITHOUT WORDS???

…Well, um, anyway. I think I am getting less articulate by the second.

But truly, the Writer’s Block is REAL and it is AMONG US. …This is actually normal and nothing to panic about. It might be simpler if I just accepted that and moved on, but do I?

NO.

I DO NOT.

I always take the onset of Writer’s Block as the cue to plunge myself into INTENSE DRAMA and WOE.

…And there might be a sort of reason for that.

Does anyone else labor under the illusion that when you can’t write things you are somehow less of a human being? I do realize how ludicrous that sounds, but at the same time, I do tend to be a tad dramatic about things like that. It is a very strong feeling that I have always had and have just recently put into words.

The thing is, once I put it into words I was able to realize that it is NOT true, I do NOT have to be writing Amazing Things to justify my own existence. Neither do you, if you’ve ever felt that way. Hopefully you haven’t.

The Writer’s Block is not in fact the end of all goodness and light and hope and your right-to-humanity-card. It’s just…really annoying.

I have digressed so much that I don’t know how to get back into the post. What were we talking about?

Ah yes, the One Quirk Later Flash Fiction series that Jem created. That is the reason why we are here.

Thankfully Jem has brought along an aesthetically pleasing writing prompt and I managed to write a thing and HERE IT IS:

Cinnamon Fire

Lexery tasted cinnamon. She grinned and let out a burst of red flame that barely missed her sister’s ears.

“Lex!” Barojy shrieked, twisting in the air and glaring back at her. Her marbled green eyes were slits and her ears lay flat against her skull. “You need to be more careful.”

“Sorry,” Lexery said with a laugh that meant she wasn’t sorry at all. She leaped up and dived towards her sister, her claws outstretched, a gleeful growl in her throat.

“Stop it!” Barojy snapped. She dodged her sister’s attack and flew higher into the air, her wings trembling with indignation. “Can’t you behave for one second?”

Lexery was right behind her. “But that’s no fun at all,” she complained.

“We are not out here for pleasure,” Barojy insisted. “The queen trusts us to deliver the message to Rushvik safely, and—”

Lexery tasted cinnamon again. She knew that her sister was nervous, this being her first foray and everything, and she knew that she shouldn’t do anything to upset her, but she couldn’t help it. Another burst of flame, this time directed just over Barojy’s tail.

Barojy let out an enraged roar and bolted away.

“Come on, play with me!” Lexery pleaded, racing after her. “We have been at this for days and I am dying of boredom!”

“No!” Barojy said. She streaked through the mist towards the thickly wooded hills below.

“What are you doing?” Lexery asked, twisting her lithe orange and blue body around and diving after her again.

Barojy’s green and purple scales glinted in the watery morning sun, and then vanished. As she landed gracefully in the midst of the towering dark trees, her form rapidly shrank and morphed into a tall, willowy girl with glossy black hair. Her dress was close fitting and the same shiny green and purple colour as her scales had been. The only thing about her that hadn’t changed was her eyes, which were still a striking marbled green.

Lexery landed beside her on the spongey ground and transformed into a slightly shorter, significantly broader girl with a mane of orange hair. Her dress was orange and blue and of the same cut as her sister’s. The scent of damp moss and wood filled her nostrils. She scowled. “What are we doing down here?” she demanded.

“I have decided it will be much more sensible to walk to Rushvik,” Barojy said stiffly.

“That’s not sensible at all!” Lexery protested in horror. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She always felt too cold in her human form. She hated that. “Flying is so much faster. It will take us weeks to get there on foot.”

“Well, we aren’t going to get anywhere if you don’t start behaving yourself,” Barojy countered, her voice spiked with exasperation. “Honestly, Lexery, I think you spend entirely too much time in drachon form.”

“I just wanted to have a little fun,” Lexery muttered sourly. She didn’t taste cinnamon now. Only an unpleasant metallic taste. Barojy’s last comment bothered her more than she wanted to admit. “Do you have any water?” she asked.

“Don’t you have your own?”

“I drank it all.”

Barojy groaned and unslung her bag. She handed Lexery her water-skin. “Only a sip,” she ordered. Lexery nodded. “If you wouldn’t overexert yourself so much you wouldn’t get so thirsty,” Barojy said.

Lexery shrugged. “Sorry,” she said. She gulped down some water. It helped a little. “But we really should fly. I promise I’ll be serious and I won’t try to scare you again.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I know, I know, you weren’t scared,” Lexery said quickly, though she was positive she had been. “Please?”

Barojy sighed. “Fine,” she said. “But no more fire.”

Lexery smiled with relief. A warm feeling filled her belly and she shot upward into the sky. Barojy came behind her.

Lexery felt the wind rush past her, relishing the feeling as her body cut through the mist. She did like being a dragon. Maybe she liked being a dragon too much. But who was Barojy decide that? What did Barojy know about anything? So what if she was the head ambassador and Lexery was only her assistant? So what if…

Lexery tasted cinnamon again. She knew that she shouldn’t, but…the urge was too strong.

“Lexery!” Barojy scolded, dodging a column of flame as it shot over her head. “You promised!”

“I guess I lied,” Lexery said. “But I’m not slowing us down and you won’t make us walk because that’s ridiculous and you know it.”

Barojy cast her a stormy look and shot ahead.

Lexery only felt a tiny bit guilty.

Jem’s prompt for this quirk, which I usually put earlier, but anyway, here it is.

Epilogue

Sometimes we get stuck. REALLY stuck. And sometimes we have to set everything else aside and just write about dragons without thinking too hard about it, because that’s all we can do.

Many thanks to Jem for creating the Quirks and helping us all claw our way out of nasty writing slumps! I urge you to go check out her blog, not only to find out how awesome she is, but also to find links to the other great quirks people have been writing. You don’t want to miss out on this. Also, you can scribble something out in response to any of Jem’s prompts at any time! So what are you waiting for? (Maybe you’re waiting for a snack, and I respect that, but after the snack you must GO FORTH and-)

I guess I am on intense ramble mode today, but I think this post is actually over now. Until next time, my blogger chums!

20 thoughts on “One Quirk Later #6~ In Which I Crawl Out Of Writing-Slump Land Long Enough To Say “Dragons”

      1. Here is a tip I learned in high school: just write don’t think about it. That refers specifically to the first draft.

        In addition, while writing I learned if the characters start writing the book, let them

        Liked by 1 person

  1. This was splendid, my friend! 😀 I really loved your take on the prompt (which was also awesome – how could anyone resist writing about dragons?? I should really do one of these…)

    And usually what I do for Writer’s B**** is scrounge up my willpower and force those words out, which feels worse than pulling my bones out, but eventually I can get myself going (producing sentences worse than a first-grader, but still sentences.) Especially when I get friends to send me pictures of tarantulas or whatever if I don’t write. 😛

    But anyways, hopefully you can fully conquer that nasty Writer’s B****!

    (also man, can I relate to being hopelessly rambling and ranting 😂)

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, I am glad that you liked it! Yes, the prompts are fantastic and you SHOULD do one of them because I would love to read what you write. 🙂
      Thank you for the tips and encouragement. Hopefully soon I will have conquered that Accursed Thing that keeps me from wording.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. FROM THE FIRST PARAGRAPH. These sisters are aMAZING and also I relate to the older one xD

    (I just. There are such “DON’T MAKE ME STOP THE CAR” vibes here xD)

    Thank you for participating, Charles, and I’m so sorry to hear the Writer’s Block has come for your clock-maker story!! *hands you Tim-Tams with which to tempt it away from your story* *and a poking stick in case tempting it away doesn’t work*

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks muchly! Honestly I relate to the older one as well. Maybe it’s because I am an older sister in real life and know what a great trial it can be when the younger(s) will NOT BEHAVE THEMSELVES.
      (Haha, yes! For sure.)
      Your commiseration is much appreciated. The Tim-Tams and poking stick are also. Perhaps if I can ever fashion a sworfle boomernaff for myself the Writer’s Block will never dare darken my door again. I will be much too intimidating.
      Now that I think of it, there should be a customized weapon that we can use to fend off the Writer’s Block. That would come in handy. Someone should make this happen post haste.
      Thanks again for providing this prompt!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I see you’ve been spying on my sisters and decided to put them into a story. That’ll be a $20 fee.

    (For real though. The accuracy. Also I wish I could fly and breathe fire. Man.)

    I send good wishes, tea, and crumpets to combat the Writer’s Block! As well as reassurance about how that thing where one doesn’t have to write things to justify one’s existence is true. A truth I’m amazingly bad at remembering, actually. But CARRY ON. There is light at the end of the tunnel…or something. Starlight, at the very least, I’d imagine? Street lamps dawning on the clockmaker’s consciousness?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha, I am pleased that my dragon sisters are authentic in their sisterness. (After being a sister for the overwhelming majority of my life and having three of them, I should be able to write about sisters if nothing else.)
      As for the fee, I’m afraid all I can offer you is this invisible lettuce- and an imaginary umbrella, which you can imagine keeps you dry and which you can also imagine is worth twenty dollars.
      Many thanks for the good wishes, tea and crumpets! (I hope they don’t cost anything?? If so, here’s an entirely nonexistent but healthy warthog. Do with it as you will.)
      It is weird how hard it is to remember that truth. We can still be wholly human without being 100% Accomplished all the time? Our effort isn’t what gives us value? What? It doesn’t seem like it should be that hard to remember, but it is. Thank you so much for your reassurance!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. This was fantastic. XD

    And on a completely unrelated note I wanted to inform you that I finally got around to The Perilous Guard and The Sherwood Ring. The first I listened to while at work and really enjoyed and the second I found at the library a week later.

    And now I keep going back and forth on which I like better. HOW DO I PICK

    Liked by 1 person

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