Thursday, December 5, 2013

I(nsecure) W(riters) S(upport) G(roup)

I really, absolutely have a perfect, amazingly valid and synonymous writerly excuse for missing this IWSG post yesterday.

I forgot.

Honestly I have no idea how people do it. Or how I did it, when I was working full time. I've deliberately blocked that period out of my memory. I sit down to write and there are so many other things occupying my brain space that there's apparently no room for writing. I have to clear out all the drek before I can actually write, and the close proximity of the internet doesn't help.

The other day I figured out what happened. I more or less stopped writing, letting Facebook, my garden, the cat, the job hunt, etc, fill up my writing time. All important things (with the exception of Facebook) but I let them slowly expand until they filled and overfilled the time I have.

So I made a new rule for myself (part of which lasted less than a day because I remembered IWSG). I will write until noon, a minimum of 2000 words, and not even turn on the internet until that's done. So far so good.

Now I need to go write. See you later.


Ma'uale glanced to the east with a grin. Mountains, the Boanae called those hills, but he had seen true mountains in other areas and knew the hills for what they were. Never crowned with snow so close to the Bay, they were taller on the Bay side but still low enough that a determined enemy could go over them in less than half a day of easy walking.

Which brought his thoughts around again to the Bay, less than a days easy walk to the west. The caravans usually traveled on the other side of the Boanae hills, because on this side the only road curved down along this area almost to the shore. They would make that stretch in one day if they could, which meant the animals needed to be rested before they began.

He yodeled, catching the attention of the caravan mistress, who rode back along the train and spun her horse to ride beside him. "Stop here?" she asked, looking anxiously toward the west.

"Best," Ma'uale agreed. "One day, or two."

Pelew shook her head, holding her horse easily with her knees. Its thick claws, ideal for digging tubers from the soil, pawed uneasily at the hard-packed soil of the road. "Overnight. Stop here, rest and eat. Then push on."

Ma'uale understood her concern in being so close to the Bay, but they didn't have much choice. "Rest here, or rest there," he pointed out reasonably. "Same distance. Full push, the animals will need it."

Pelew closed her eyes. "Consult," she decided, and rode back toward the beginning of the train. Regardless, they would stop here. Ma'uale glanced to the side, caught the eye of one of the scouts. The man rode close, his mount uneasy as Pelew's had been.

"Clearing." The man pointed to emphasize, the light visible at the beginning of the caravan. "Large enough for all the wagons."

"Mm," Ma'uale grunted in response and untied his reigns. The animals perked up, alerted by the motion to a change coming. The wide wheels rolled on, over ruts and stones that would have captured or broken a lesser wheel.

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