Fade to White chapter 5

Fade to White

Chapter Five

As they rode through the crowded market square, Tryne looked around intently at the people in the village, but her eyes never lit up in recognition of the person she was searching for. When he passed a stand selling hats, Jerek leaned over and snatched a wide-brimmed western style hat and put it on to obscure his face, then almost passed Tryne who had stopped her horse to gaze around, seeming very lost.

“Tryne!” a man called, waving and making his way toward them. His face was sullen, with dark brown hair falling into his gray eyes.

“Ken!” she answered as she dismounted from her horse. “Where’s my mother?”

“Come with me Tryne,” Ken said more privately, putting his hand on the back of Tryne’s shoulders and leading her away. It was after they had been walking for awhile when Ken noticed Jerek following, and asked, “Who’s that?”

“It’s okay, he’s with me. Are we going to the inn?” Tryne looked intently at Ken’s face, searching for an answer.

“Yeah, come on then.”

Ken waited until the horses had been tied up and that the three of them were sitting around a table shrouded in darkness inside the inn’s dining room before he began talking.

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Good Stories


This advice changed the way I write.

The Hollywood depiction of writers is of them agonizing over a typewriter, coming up with the perfect way to phrase the last sentence before sending it off to be published immediately. They never have to rethink or rewrite anything.

I used to hold high standards for my first draft, so I did a lot of pre-writing and character sheets to ensure that everything would be solid by the time I started the story. The funny thing was, despite all the work I put into it before beginning, I never managed to finish any novels. I’d hit blocks and struggle with finding the motivation to write, then move on to the next idea that popped up. Then one day while I was talking to a start-up publisher, he commented, “There’s no such thing as good writing — only good editing.”

And the way I approached writing changed forever.

My first drafts are now a free flow of creativity. When I start that first sentence, I don’t know where the story is going to go — I write that down as it comes to me. I change my mind halfway through and jot down a note to edit the previous chapters for consistency. Then I change my mind again and scribble out that note. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do next and I write down random thoughts until the sentences start coming to me.

The second draft is spent cleaning up, rewriting, and fixing consistency. This is the part where I start to make it good.

Ever since I made that change to how I write, I have finished every novel I’ve started.

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Fade to White chapter 4

The first couple of chapters for Fade to White were a collaboration between me and my best friend in high school for our creative writing class. I quickly took over and completed writing the novella on my own, since I was the one who enjoyed spending hours and hours alone lost in my head.

We had a falling out after starting college, and I went back and completely rewrote the first two chapters so that the events would be entirely in my own words. Truthfully, it was more about preserving artistic integrity than petty revenge, because I thought that the differences in writing styles stuck out like a forum role play.

For the life of me, I can’t remember if my former friend ever saw the completed novella.



Fade to White

Chapter Four

Early morning sunlight spilled from the sky and danced around in patterns on Jerek’s white shirt as he sat on the ground with his back against a tree. Two horses stood tied to a branch nearby, one of them stomping his hooves impatiently. Turning her head curiously toward them, Tryne smiled and set her bucket of water down, wiping her hands on her apron before hurrying over to where Jerek lay. His eyes were closed.

“Hello,” Tryne whispered, kneeling down next to him, but Jerek didn’t stir. Gently, she touched his shoulder and he still didn’t respond. Quivering slightly, Tryne reached to brush the bright white hair away from Jerek’s face, watching the strands shimmer in the sun, then slid her hand down the side of his cheek, marveling at how soft and smooth his hair was. Glancing over at Jerek’s face, Tryne jumped back when she saw that his rainbow eyes were open and watching her. “I’m sorry,” Tryne stammered, “I thought you were . . .”

Jerek stood up and looked down at Tryne for a second before holding out his hand to help her to her feet. “I brought your horse back,” he said, turning to his own stallion to pull down the reigns, but he found himself feeling very reluctant to leave.

“You know, when I first saw you lying there I thought you had run into a tree again.” Jerek grunted and scowled, causing Tryne to smile. “Thank you,” she added, walking around the tree to reach her own horse’s reigns, her smile fading.

“Uh,” Jerek began, feeling very uncertain, “Do you have anything . . . that needs to be done?”

“No, not really.” Tryne sighed, patting her horse’s nose. “I’ll be going into town today.”

Sensing something in her voice, Jerek felt slightly alarmed. “Is there anything wrong?”

Tryne hesitated. “My mother never came home last night.”

“Hm.” Jerek shifted from leaning on one foot to the other, fiddling with his hands.

“I’m really surprised you asked to help,” Tryne said quickly, her voice sounding unnaturally lighter. “Yesterday you seemed so mad when I sent you out to chop wood. Perhaps you want to show off your manly muscles some more, and that’s why you came back?”

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Hatoful Boyfriend


I was going to post something else.

But I came across my screenshots of awesome Hatoful Boyfriend moments.

I highly recommend the game.





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Fade to White chapter 3

Fade to White

Chapter Three

A freshly lit cigaret burned slowly in Jerek’s hand as he raised it to his mouth, gazing out at the trees below his window.¬†That girl.¬†After he had finished chopping wood, she had asked him to stay for dinner with the explanation that it was in payment of all that he had helped her with. He had refused. She had been more insistent, however, that he should borrow her horse to get back home, and he would have never gotten away without agreeing to ride the thing. It was an old brown stallion, evident from the fact that the slump in its back was deep, yet despite that the girl seemed to love the horse and was very adamant in obtaining his promise that he would bring it back as soon as he could.

Yet there was something that irked Jerek. How could a farm exist so close to Nosaj’s castle, and he not even know about it? Breathing in deeply and sucking on his cigaret, Jerek then exhaled and watched as the smoke floated in front of his eyes. If he had known, the place would have been ransacked and burned a long time ago, but for some reason that thought bothered him even more.


Sharply bringing his hand down, Jerek hung it out the window to hide the cigaret as a loud bang of the door being slammed against the wall announced Nosaj entering the room. They stared at each other for a moment, both of their faces betraying no emotion, before Nosaj’s lips curled and he started to grin.

“Don’t bother Jerek,” Nosaj said laughing, “Everyone knows, and nobody cares.” Walking up to Jerek, he held out his hand. “Mind if I have one?”

“This is my last one,” Jerek replied, keeping his hand down and the cigaret hidden.

“Oh.” Nosaj seemed thoroughly disappointed. “I’ll have more sent to you. I came to ask you something. Your horse returned some hours ago alone. Why?”

Jerek pointed to the cut in the side of his head. “I was attacked by a bandit. If he’s not dead already, he will be soon.”

“Why of course, those fools will do anything for a scrap of bread or a few coins, but what about the horse you came in on?” Tapping his lips with a long crooked finger, Nosaj looked down at Jerek.

“Belonged to the man, I suppose,” Jerek replied calmly, turning his attention back to looking out the window.

Failing to get the hint, Nosaj continued, “I imagine you’ve had a busy day. That girl you brought in earlier, perhaps you would like to have her first?” Jerek remained silent, so Nosaj added, “Should I have her sent in then?”

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From Pinterest

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From Pinterest

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