Happy Pi Day

This weekend Moose and I went to Logan. While he fixed his brother's car, I went to get my hair cut. When they took me back to the chair I decided to have it highlighted. I've never had my hair highlighted before and I thought it would be a fun change. I am fairly easy going about my hair. It grows back even if it is cut and dyed. When the hair dresser asked what color for the highlights I told her I didn't really care and what would she suggest. She hemmed and hawed for a bit but eventually suggested that I go with blond highlights. As she added the tinfoil we talked about a variety of things, but most especially what I had done with my hair. I kept telling her that she was the expert and that it didn't matter what she did, I could always grow it out if I didn't like the style. I went on to explain that I had dyed my hair blue at one point so anything else would seem tame. She laughed and I could tell she was relaxing.

She tensed up again when it came to washing the color out and for me to see how it looked. When I sat down at the mirror I was surprised. I liked it but it wasn't anything like I had done before. The blond is very blond and it steaks my hair in stripes, because they are highlights. She cut my hair and the longer I looked the more it grew on me. I would chuckle and she would pause in mid cut and ask if everything was all right. Come to find out the woman before me had wanted her hair bleached, but her style of hair didn't lend to bleaching very well. The woman had argued with the hair dresser and practically stormed out. Then I came in, sat down, and told her she could do what she wanted. I can see why she was so nervous. I felt bad for her and it bothered me that the woman couldn't be more courteous. I just hope that the hair dresser realizes she is good at her job.

Writing a Good Short Story

Here are some tips I picked up at a conference I attended. I don't follow all of these tips but they are good to keep in mind. The first few things (which I often break) is that the story should stand on its own. It is about a person with a problem who takes an action to solve the problem. It should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Now this may seem pretty obvious but especially when it comes to flash fiction this can be easy to forget.

For these particular stories this is just a basic outline which can be adjusted as you want. During the beginning the character realizes there is a problem and takes ownership of the problem. The middle is where the character attempts to solve the problem but in the course of trying they realize it is bigger than first anticipated. Every attempt that fails is part of the middle of the story. The end is when there is a solution to the problem or there can be no more attempts for any reason.

Short stories don't always have to revolve around characters but they can be about setting or an idea. Wherever you decide the focus is that is where you start your story. This is where the in late out early comes in handy. With a novel you have to know what to put in. With a short story you have to know what to leave out. Stories need to have a setting and when it is a short story that should come fairly early so as not to lose the audience. The last thing to remember is that you don't just have one hook in the novel it should happen throughout to keep the readers interested. Use emotion to keep up the level of tension.

*Dreamer

Intro: I hate it when I am tired and am trying to decide whether to take a nap or just push through it. This story is about that time when you are in the haze right as you are falling asleep.

Maya's eyes flitted closed and she forced her them open. The other slaves were shifting in their beds, no doubt trying to stay awake as well. When she was first brought to the room she couldn't believe that anyone could sleep with a metal collar around their necks or their hands chained together. She learned that working in the field all day gave plenty of reason to sleep. Some of the other slaves were convinced that their captives drugged the water. She wasn't surprised but the labor in the field gave everyone a reason to drink it, drugged or not.

"Are you still awake?" The Master ran a hand across her cheek. His hand was the only one who touched her that was smooth. He brushed some of her pale hair away from her forehead. "Sleep, little one."

She nodded and let her eyes drift close. The collar around her neck pulsed with every heartbeat. It took slaves weeks to get use to the device. Maya had been different, the first night she wore it had been a success. The Master treated her well because of it. He never struck her and occasionally she got an extra piece of bread with dinner. That put her on the bad side with some of the other slaves but most ignored her. They all had their fair share of receiving tender mercies from the Master.

The pulsing sensation made her feel warm, it was the only time she felt warm. Even as she sank into the embrace the power surged through her. The time before dreams was when the mind was the strongest. The collars enabled communication between minds. Those awake wearing the collars were limited by telekinetic. Those asleep with the collars were more. It was as if their spirits floated free for a moment.

"Maya, are you ready?" The voice was the Mistress. She never met with the slaves in person, instead she only talked with them before the dreams. No one was on the good side of the Mistress. Not only did the collars enable people to enter the dream state, but it allowed the Mistress to have control. When she took control your body suffered for it. "You will be working on the heist this evening."

The images of a large city flashed through her mind and just by thinking Maya found herself there. Her small village was on the other side of the world from America, but it seemed as if she'd lived here her whole life. Every night for years she had come to one of these cities. Tonight was in the area called California. This was her favorite place. So many people of different colors. She focused on the building below her and it drifted closer. A dark shadow caught her attention and she watched several figures detach themselves and run across the roof.

"Get them to the vault. One of them wears a collar."

The Mistress's presence disappeared from her mind. She shivered in relief. The Mistress was just harsh. Minds were delicate and the Mistress didn't do delicate. Too long and everyone came away with a headache. Maya turned her attention back to the roof. The figures hovered around the door. She opened it for them.

"Thank you." The voice was a middle-aged man. He was the one that Maya worked with most often. She didn't know his name but he was the best at what he did, acquiring items that belonged to others. Even though the slaves considered him old, Maya liked him. People over the age of seventeen did not use the collars when dreaming.

She followed after the group opening the doors when directed. When the man could open the door himself, he did. She liked to watch over his shoulder as he fiddled with the lock. She could never do something like that. Her hands were clumsy. There were nights she had a hard time holding a spoon.

"The vault is coming up. I need your help to open it. If you could disable the alarm I will take care of the rest."

"It will be done," she replied.

She flitted ahead and found the alarm system. The inner workings were a mass of wires and computer chips. Years of training taught her that cutting all of the wires often set off the alarm. Careful study showed her the combination of microchips to fry and rearrange.

"It is done."

She watched the man and his team set up their tools to cut into the vault. A headache built behind her eyes but she tried to ignore it. She was suppose to stay until the job was done because she could take care of any guards more easily than the flesh and blood could.

"You're drifting. Is everything alright?"

"Be safe. Get out. I can't hold it—"

Maya screamed as the pressure built. She was sure her eyes, ears, and nose were bleeding. In an instant she was back at the hovel staring down at her body. It didn't look like anything was wrong.

"Pull harder." The Mistress's voice sounded like the shrill farm bell.

The pain redoubled.

"I want her, now."

As the pain overwhelmed her senses the last thought Maya had was maybe they would let her have one night of dreams before. Her vision blacked out for a moment and when everything came into focus the pulsation around her neck was gone.

The Mistress called, it felt like a fly buzzing. Maya smiled. She stretched. And she let herself slip into the land of dreams. For the first night since she'd been enslaved, Maya slept.

Warbreaker

by Brandon Sanderson

WARBREAKER was the first Brandon Sanderson novel I read. He had it available on his website and I found myself reading it on my lunch break instead of the book that I brought with me. If you want to see if you would like Sanderson's novels this might be a good place to start with because it is a stand alone novel that gives a good example of the variety of characters as well as the unique magic system.

WARBREAKER starts out in a prison with a man named Vasher. Though it might not make sense what he is doing you get an idea that the magic is cool. Everyone is born with a Breath. That Breath can be given away, not taken, but you can live without your Breath. Breath is use to animate objects. The more you have the more you can do. The two main characters are two princesses, Siri and Vivenna. Siri, the youngest daughter takes Vivenna's place to marry the heathen God King to bring peace to the two nations. Vivenna, not sure what to do with herself, decides to go rescue her sister. In addition to the God King, there are plenty of other gods running around the city. Gods are beings who have died and then come back. They need a Breath every week to survive so their follows sacrifice their Breaths for compensation.

One of the reasons why I like WARBREAKER is because of the variety in characters. I can also say one of my all time favorite characters comes from this book. His name is Lightsong and what he brings to the story is a lighthearted look at serious topics. The idea that a god is questioning his divinity is something that I haven't come across very often.