Missed post, and NaNoWriMo 2016

Oops! I fully intended to participate in the "Do You Have Goals?" and Cephalopod Coffeehouse traditions on Friday. But I have been so busy and distracted that the blog post was one thing that slipped. However, in keeping with my current "tradition" of posting at least once a month, I'm lucky to still have the last day of October (today!) to at least give some sort of update.

This isn't a proper post like I would have done on Friday if I had my wits about me, but I do have updates to share, so here they are:

Halloween-ready - including cutlass
created last-minute

1. Music - only three songs left to work on for the next album! I submitted two within the last month. Slowly but surely, we're getting there.
2. Study - second-last assignment for the year is submitted, so now just one to go  and I'll be home free.
3. Halloween - went to a Halloween party, and spent way more time than usual putting my outfit together - including home-made cutlass. ;)
4. Cats - we've had a few events lately for the cat rescue, and we're all looking forward to a break. This coming Saturday we have a huge event on that goes all day. I also have two other events that day. Gahhhh. When will it end?
5. Reading - reading Poldark book #7 now - the last book in the "main series", before we start reading more about their children's stories in the next books.
6. Writing - in a moment of sheer madness I decided to do NaNoWriMo 2016. Let me explain...

I don't know why I'm doing NaNo, but apparently I am. I thought I could try to work on finishing off some of my unfinished novels, but I also looked through my "novel ideas" and picked one to work on, just in case working on the unfinished novels doesn't get me enough words. I'll probably start the new idea first, because I'm like that. Then if I run out of steam I'll work on some of the other novels.

So my novel for this year is titled "Die Beachside", and was inspired by a dream (a very scary dream!) I once had. This is very much a pantsing scenario in which I have no idea how things are going to go, and had to quickly work out some details of plot in the few days leading up to November. Here is a link to my novel.

Are you doing NaNo?

If not, what else are you up to?

Write ... Edit ... Publish ~ HAUNTED for Halloween!

Hey everyone! It's that time again, when we post for Denise Covey's Write ... Edit ... Publish monthly blog hop. This month's WEP is a little different though, as Denise explains:

Welcome to creepy Halloween! There are many blogfests vying for attention. I am combining the Write...Edit...Publish blogfest with Francine Howarth's Trick or Treat Blogfest where you either give or receive free books. (In comments, say if you want your name to go into a hat to win a free book - say TREAT!)

Those who participate in the WEP blogfest will be competing for a $10 Amazon Gift card from yours truly (for the entry that catches my , and Francine is donating a free e-book to a participant.

So, with all that said, here's my post (all 970 words) for October's hop.

Watched

In the days immediately after Brian Walters drowned, his wife Jeanna existed in a strange sort of limbo. She could neither believe the accident had really happened nor say definitively that it hadn’t. She had seen it with her own eyes—him standing up at the wrong angle, teetering for one endless moment, and finally sailing overboard. She’d seen it, yes, but she found it hard to trust her own mind. 

After the news broke, friends and family flooded in around her, opening their arms and hearts and, unfortunately, their mouths as well. “She won’t talk about it,” and “The poor woman,” and “Such a tragedy!” were all the things she heard and wished she hadn’t. She craved peace and quiet—mostly, the quiet—but with a missing husband who was an important member of the community, she had certain obligations to meet. 

Organising the funeral and the wake were the first on a long list. 

So Jeanna called in favours, she used her very best business voice and she made all the necessary arrangements. She pulled it all together at a dizzying speed, and finally the day arrived when she would say goodbye.

* 

The service passed quickly but lasted a lifetime. As Jeanna stepped out into the harsh, sweltering air of mid-February, she felt more sapped of energy than she ever had in her life before. Faces swam all around, turning their sympathy on her, and voices pecked at her from every angle. She was quite convinced they drew blood. 

Her focus narrowed and the sounds faded away. She drew a breath that echoed, climbed into the backseat of the limousine, and slammed the door behind her, shutting out the chaos of a world that never stopped shaking.

* 

Up on a miraculously verdant slope, with the hot air of a full-blown summer’s day leaching life from everything, Brian Walters’ coffin sank into the ground. It didn’t have him in it, but it was still his. A wide-eyed Jeanna watched it go down, and when it finally came to rest her lips moved in a silent farewell. 

But she didn’t feel that she was really saying goodbye. Because he wasn’t in there. All they were burying was a wooden box, with nothing but mementos inside. And hours later, when the last of the dirt had been flung back in, sealing the deal once and for all, Jeanna still didn’t believe he was really gone.

* 

Time passed, and Jeanna felt warm and watched over. She never really felt widowed, though she missed Brian’s ridiculous laugh, his dancing green eyes, his reassuring presence. She never really felt alone, and she couldn’t explain it. But while people kept a close eye on her, always expecting her to finally have the breakdown they all presumed was simply delayed, she managed to get through each day without shedding a single tear. 

It didn’t really seem strange to her until the second year was halfway through, and she realised she didn’t so much feel watched over anymore as she felt watched.

* 

Over the months, the ‘watched’ feeling persisted. When at home, Jeanna took to drawing all the blinds and keeping all the curtains closed. It didn’t make her feel better. No matter what she did, the surveilled feeling remained. 

Was Brian here in ghost-form, haunting her? She’d never really believed in any of that, but the watched feeling was making her think twice. 

One night, she got the feeling so strongly that she spoke aloud without meaning to: “Brian? Are you there?” She waited, but got no response. “If you’re there … please tell me.” 

What she really meant was, Please leave me alone. 

She was ready to move on, and wished he would let her.

* 

She worked with a man called Jake Reynolds, who was interested in her. He’d asked her out a few times, but each time she’d declined. He respected her boundaries, but also assured her with a gentle smile that he wouldn’t give up until she told him to. 

She hadn’t told him to yet. 

Nor had she told him she was being stalked by her dead husband. 

When she saw him at work next, he hinted once more that they should make a dinner date. As usual, she said no, but this time it was more a knee-jerk reaction than the old reluctance. So she quickly added more words to the mix. “But ask me again and I’ll say yes.” 

“When should I ask?” he wanted to know. 

She hesitated. “When you think the time is right.” 

H asked her out a week later, and she said yes.

* 

Their date went beautifully and Jeanna spent almost the entirety of it forgetting all about her dead, ghostly husband. At the end of the night the truth came rushing back in a dismaying wave as Jake walked her to her front door, his arm linked with hers. 

“I had a wonderful night,” he said softly as they came to a halt in front of her doormat.

Something fluttered in her chest as she gazed up at him, admiring his chiselled jaw and bright blue eyes. 

“So did I,” she whispered, and on a whim decided to kiss him. Just as she was stretching up on tip-toes, the front door to her house opened and Brian’s voice sounded out, loud and clear.

“I didn’t expect you to give up so soon.” 

She turned to the doorway, fear seizing her throat, and realised he wasn’t dead at all. That man was very much alive, and wearing a seriously grave expression. 

“Who’s this?” Jake murmured from beside her, his arm tightening on hers, but Jeanna barely heard him, because her attention was all on the thing Brian held in his hands. 

It was a shiny, metallic thing.

It was a gun.

© 2013, Trisha Farnan. 

Spooktoberfest is here! (feat. flash fiction)

Woohoo!! Fun times are afoot today, because it's the start of the Spooktoberfest blogfest, hosted by Jackie Felger and Dani Bertrand. The aim of this game is to write a piece of flash fiction (300 words or less) that contains the following 5 words:

cobweb(s), cauldron(s), jack-o-latern(s), ghost(s), razor(s)

For more info, check out the link above! There is a really cool prize for the winner, too, and it's international!

Anyway, here is my entry, which according to Microsoft Word is 296 words long:

Ghosts of annoying lovers past assault me as I step out into the steamy cauldron of a spring day in Perth, head pounding with a nauseating hangover. Puffy white clouds leer at me like jack-o-lanterns from overhead and I glower to show the world just what I think. 

Why is it always me who has to do the walk of shame? Why don’t these one night stands ever happen at my place? And why must I always be the ultimate cliché and lose a shoe somewhere along the way? 

I hobble gingerly along a weedy garden path to the front gate and push through it, crying out in pain as a stray bit of wire digs its razor-blade sharpness into my right love handle. I take a moment, closing my eyes and drawing deep breaths to clear the cobwebs from my mind. And to try to unclench this damn jaw. ‘Cause this is no way to start off a day. 

Suddenly a high-pitched voice calls out from a short distance away—a horribly familiar voice: “Martha? Is that you?!” 

I open my eyes and no, I haven’t imagined it—that really is my mother across the street, squinting at me in confusion then disbelief. Frantically I look around for a street sign and find one. Dread flowers inside me as I realise why last night’s conquest looked so familiar. Mum’s best friend’s son really has grown into a hottie. But now I know he lives across the road from his mother—directly across the road—and if his bad morning breath wasn’t a deal breaker, this totally is. 

“Martha! I don’t believe it.” Mum’s completely scandalised. “Why are you— How— Where is your shoe?” 

Fitting, really, that today is October 31^st. Halloween has never been scarier.

NaNo-Chrysalis crossover

So, Day 5 of NaNoWriMo draws to a close and I've got a word count of 18,038. The number I needed to reach today was 16,666.6 recurring until it gets to 7. As in, 16,666.6666666666667. I think. Or maybe I put one too many 6s in there. Either way, it was something like that, at least according to my Mac's in-built calculator. I've decided to go with that!

I also wrote about 1200 words for the Chrysalis Experiment today, hence the inclusion of the icon above. I wrote it using my novel's characters, and I may be able to use it towards my NaNo word count eventually. For now, it's set aside as a little 'vignette'.

In other news, I enjoyed a post-Halloween Halloween party this evening with some great friends. Haven't had that much fun on Halloween in a long time!

Anyway...may all your Day 5s end on positive notes as mine did, and may each of you glimpse a fluffy bunny or two ('cause man they're cute!).