My (unorthodox) writing style for Nanowrimo, Part I

My first try at Nanowrimo was in 2006. I began at the beginning and kept writing until the end. I named each day's work as 'Session #(Day)'. Here is a snippet of "The Silk Dragon". This story had no fixed plot, but it grew and grew. At about 10K words, I ran out of things to write about, so I did what any young mother did...incorporated what was on the television at the time. The Wiggles, Dora the Explorer, Blue's Clues. Whatever works, works. So this fantasy story incorporated all sorts of fantastic elements that shouldn't have worked together, but somehow did. A quest, a Chosen One, dragons, a Bad Guy to defeat, historical personages (Abe Lincoln and Mark Twain. With Dragons), a Singing Map, a Norse warrior (Freya) and an Aztec princess. Oh, and Clara Barton and Steve Irwin.

And I made it over 50K, barely. 50,018.

Yeah, I still laugh whenever I dig it up and read it. I kept writing, no matter how nonsensical it was or how completely crazy it sounded. 'Write now, edit later'. The strange thing is that I decided to leave it as is and not edit it. After all, who would be interested in reading such a mish-mash?

My second try was in 2011. This time, I had a plan. Anyone who knows me as a writer will gasp in surprise. I studied languages in college and wanted to learn Chinese, so I immersed myself in the language and culture. So The Legacy of the Pearl Dragon was born on Nov. 1, 2011. It introduced the mythical land of Shinwa, an alternate Imperial China. The protagonist, Li Ying, went on a journey to Kemet, an alternate Ancient Egypt. I had scenes that I definitely wanted to include in the story, and I had a beginning, middle and (sort of) end.

I organized it the same way I did "The Silk Dragon", with session numbers, dates and word counts. That worked, for the most part, but as the deadline loomed, I began writing scenes out of order. I also wrote on my laptop and on my desktop, so I could keep an eye on my kids while scribbling.

I coped the text and pasted them where they should be in the main story. I became obsessed with saving, saving, saving my work on both devices, on an external hard drive and CD. It took an incident with spilled coffee and the keyboard to convince me this was necessary.

The Legacy of the Pearl Dragon was again, barely a shade over 50K. I used ideas from this novel-sized monster to write my e-book of short stories, Tales of the Elemental Dragons, Books One and Two. What was meant as a one-shot turned into the beginning of a series.

This year, my Nanowrimo project is titled "The Shadow of the Queen". I wrote a prologue of sorts, but it won't be included in the word count because it's pre-November. This time, my writing process is a bit different. I have two documents, one titled 'Shadow of the Queen' and 'Shadow of the Queen rough cut'.  The first one are scenes that I managed to pen in between taking care of 3 kids, 1 husband, 1 house, and fighting chronic disease. They are completely out of order, since I write whatever strikes me at the time.

The second one is the 'rough cut', like the rough cut of a TV episode or a feature film. The scenes are pasted in somewhat of a coherent order. When I re-read this, it might give me an idea for another scene for the story that bridges between two unrelated ones. Yes, there are contradictions, changed names, impossible travel times between places, and other 'mistakes'.

But the point of Nanowrimo is 'write now, edit later', and like a director/producer/editor of a film, I'll go back and fix those later. What matters is getting the words down on the page, even if it makes no sense, even if no one will read it. Get those thoughts out of your head and break that block that whines, "I don't know what to write!" The ideas will flow if you just do it!

As of today, November 15, I'm at 27009 words. I'm hoping to reach 50K before the end of the month. Keep writing!

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2012

A Nanowrimo Confession: An Unorthodox Strategy to 50,000

2011 marks the second time I've done Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month). The first time was in 2006 and I barely sneaked over the 50,000 word goal...by exactly 18 words. I divided the entire piece in 'writing sessions' instead of chapters. That way I could see my progress from day to day and keep daily word counts straight. Each day, I picked up where I left off and just wrote what came to me. "The Silk Dragon" turned out to be a lot more coherent than I expected, especially at the end when I was grabbing at anything to keep going. That included kids' shows, mythology, and fuzzy yaks. Don't ask.

This year is a bit different. I have a starting point and an ending point, and the goal is to get from point A to point B. Yes, there is a (gasp!) plan. Like 2006, I've begun each day with a new OpenOffice document...so today's would be "Legacy of the Pearl Dragon 15.odt", with 14 other docs before it. Granted, the way that the story's progressed, that title will change in the next draft in December, but I stuck with it.

I'd planned a fantasy series several months ago, outlining it on Writer's Blocks, version 3. It was a grand plan, encompassing four fantasy lands based on real-life ancient civilizations, and a massive hero's journey and war. Of course, it got buried in the chaos of real life. At the beginning of November, it fit my ideas perfectly, so...

I write in 'snippets', scenes that jump around in time and place, so each day's writing is a hodgepodge of scenes that may/may not follow each other in sequence. That habit came out of jotting down ideas for scenes as they came to me, so I wouldn't lose them. The story also has a 'master document' where I cut and paste scenes in rough chronological order, so I can see where the novel's going and where it's been. 

Granted, there are some contradictory details, time goofs, wonky characterization, etc., but Nano is for writing, not editing. My inner editor has been in a padded room since November 1, ranting and raving, despite the luxurious accomodations. She'll be free on December 1, when I'm sure she'll return with a vengeance. I'll need an editor during that time, not during this time. So, Inner Editor will have to sit and cool her heels while the Muse decides to put in some overtime.

And I'm about 3,000 words shy of 30,000 as of today, November 15. I'm hoping to finally get this story told...then the process of paring and editing begins in December.

 

Nanowrimo 2006 Story #4: "The Silk Dragon"

She had never had such a delicacy before; no wonder the Fire Rangers considered it a treat. It even earned itself a song; granted it was as annoying as the Map Song, but it did have a catchy tune that stuck in one’s head for hours.

“Sisi, do you have any songs where you come from?”

She started at the question. They were all looking at her, so she said, “My Foster-Mother used to sing all the time...since we’re talking about food, well, she had a song about chaochaou.”

Coren blinked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a drink...” she tried to describe it to someone who had never seen it before. “It’s brown and made out of hard nut, the juice is mixed with spices, and it’s very good, but it makes you nervy...”

Jay-Jay frowned. “Chocolate?”

“Cho-kou-latte.”

“It’s a kind of milk.”

“No, Jay-Jay, it’s not made of milk; cow, yak or otherwise.” She sighed in frustration. “It’s—“ then she broke out into song: “Chaochaou, Chaochaou, Chaochou, Chaochou, DRINK! Chaochaou, Chaochaou, Chaochaou, DRINK!”

Utter silence. “That’s it?” Nonnie said, mystified.

“That’s it,” Sisi replied proudly.

The other Rangers looked at each other for a long moment, then Coren said slowly, “It sounds like coffee, Nonnie. She says it makes you nervy...it’s brown and made from something small. And the word is similar.”

Sisi blinked in the sudden silence and immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Coren smiled and waved a hand at one of the servers. “Lanie, two cups of coffee, please. Sisi, this is a drink from where I come from. I want you to tell me if this is it.”

A minute later, Lanie slid two steaming cups of brew in front of them. The earthy smell brought tears to Sisi’s eyes, and she sipped at it: thick and sweet. “Yes, yes, this is very similar, Coren! My Foster-Father makes this and sells it at the yukka, and serves it hot, and everyone in the village drinks it, and he makes other drinks too, some that I can drink, some I can’t. I usually can’t drink this, because it makes me too nervy, but it reminds me of home, and it might be the only thing that—“

Her rambling words stumbled over each other and became a muddle, and Coren reached over to her and gave her a hug. Her veneer of calm shattered and she cried like a little baby as the homesickness and fear finally washed over her like a tsunami.

“You know, you’re so brave,” Nonnie said as she placed a hand on her shoulder. “We Fire Rangers have a lot of passion, a lot of chutzpah, and some of the other Elemental Rangers call us reckless. We tend to hide all our worries under a facade. You don’t. I respect that.”

Sisi sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I feel so horrible—“

”Don’t be. We aren’t scared of emotions, like some others,” Coren said with a laugh. “We laugh, we cry, we argue and make up, we sing, and in general—“

”WE ARE LOUD,” the entire room chorused, then burst out into claps and applause.

Sisi felt a new smile steal across her lips. They reminded her so much of Foster-Mother Tatara and Tatara’s relatives...colorful, loud, and always looking for an excuse for a festival. Meng Pao and the Churro reminded her of solid Earth: rock-steady and reliable, but very reserved.

Lupita finished her Hot Potato and said, “You know, we are due for a new uniform design, and I can see you have an eye for color. Would you like to help?”

Sisi’s smile grew wider. “Yes, of course I will!”

Jay-Jay said it for all of them. “I think it’s the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”

Link brought her to her new quarters, a room right between Lupita’s and Nonnie’s, which consisted of a bed, clothing chests, a writing desk, and a little oil lamp. The bed had fluffy pillows and thick blankets that she had been used to in her family’s tent.

“I thought you might want some things from home,” Link said.

“Thank you, sir. I don’t know what to say—“

”Tomorrow, I’ll be back to show you your classes. Nonnie and Lupita will help you settle in tonight. It will be a brand new life for you, Little Sisi.”

“I think I’ll be all right, sir.”

“Then good night, and I will see you on the morrow, then.” Link inclined his head to her, then turned and headed for the door. As he went, he reached into his black jacket and took out a oval-shaped fabric. With a flick of his wrist, the fabric popped up into a tall, cylindrical hat, which he placed on his head as soon as he cleared the doorway.

Nonnie and Lupita came and showed her the outdoor pools. The Ranger compound was situated near a natural hot spring, heated by a nearby volcano, and the pools were filled with hot water for washing. The trio talked as they soaped and rinsed and Sisi learned much about her newfound friends.

Nonnie was from a place called Florida, as warm and humid as Churro was cold and bone dry. She talked about living right on the ocean, where people swam and ate food caught directly from the water. She had enjoyed something called parasailing, gliding in the air with a huge wing and pulled by a boat on the water. Her Dragon had saved her when her safety harness had snapped and she fell from a great height from the sky. He had taken her through her own Passage through an icy wasteland, where she had faced her own fears of falling, before she arrived here.

Lupita belonged to a tribe called the Aztecas, a grand empire that encompassed thousands of villages. Her father had been a priest, her mother an oracle. One day, a rival priest drugged her mother and told her that the only way to avoid a plague was to sacrifice her only daughter. So Lupita was readied for the sacrifice, and marched up the steep stone steps to her doom.

Of course, Teztlpotl, her Dragon, had other plans for her, sweeping her off the stone altar before her grieving father plunged the knife into her heart, and taking her to her own Passage through the Jungle of Death, to confront her own fears of betrayal and anger, before she too, ended here, with the Fire Rangers.

Sisi listened to these tales with awe. It made her own journey and Passage seem simple in comparison, but she relented to tell it when the other two begged. Nonnie whistled in admiration.

“It seemed so simple, but I would’ve been terrified. It takes a lot to trust your Dragon not to let you fall. I had to do that with SurferDude.”

“SurferDude is the name of your Dragon?” Sisi asked.

“Yeah, it was the screen name of a guy I once knew, who surfed the waves at Key Largo, tanned hunk with a great big...surfboard.” Nonnie waggled her eyebrows. “Anyway, SurferDude lives up to the name, rides through the air like a great dolphin, that’s a beautiful fish, Sisi, I wish I could take you to see them.”

Lupita smiled. “Tetzlpotl came to me in the guise of a great phoenix bird...um—“

”I know what a phoenix bird is, Lupita,” Sisi told her.

“I thought I had already arrived in the Hall of the Gods, but of course, I serve the Gods instead with my life.” Lupita sighed and stretched her long, lean body. “I’m for my rest, so good night to you all.”

“Good night, Lupita.”

“Fair the night, Lupita.”

Nonnie turned to Sisi and said, “It’s getting late, we should go to bed too. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow.”

Sisi only nodded in agreement.

Back to Chapter Three
Forward to Chapter Five

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2011

Fiction Excerpt #3: Nanowrimo 2006 "The Silk Dragon"

Sisi heard another rumble close by and she looked about her wildly. Instead of a wave of rock, another dragon flapped his wings and roared into the sky. A second one, this time with a rider, moved up into the spot the first one had vacated. Now Sisi and Drianah saw the person hidden in front of the dragon, a signaler of some kind. He was dressed in bright orange, and held two batons of the same color. The signaler did a little dance with the batons, and pointed to a far- off point in the sky. Both the dragon and rider nodded in answer. The signaler sketched them a little salute, then to Sisi's surprise, he dropped on one knee to the ground and covered his head. 

The dragon took off at a running start, thundering past the signaler, and at the edge of the outcrop, extended its wings as it took off into the sky. It headed in the direction that the signaler had told it, and soon was gone from sight. Other signalers brought incoming dragons in safely, though some of them zipped perilously past the ones leaving. Their dances reminded Sisi of the elders' storytelling dances back home, telling people what happened and where they went.

"We call this place the runway, Ranger Sisi," Drianeh told her. "This is where we take off and land."


"Do all of you leave and return by this platform?"

"No, we've got many of them scattered all over, with their own signalers. Did you watch them closely? What do they do?"

Sisi watched another signaler, this time a female, crouch down to avoid another dragon's wings. "They...tell the dragons where to take off and where to go, so no one runs into each other. And they have to duck or else they might get run over."

"Exactly. You have to be very brave to be a signaler, and have a good sense of where everything is," Drianeh said. "If you don't, there might be an accident. Not good."

"Do people and dragons...die?"

Drianeh nodded solemnly. "Sometimes. That's why a signaler is very important, and we should give them every measure of respect."

"Yes, and that respect is well-earned, too," a new voice broke into the conversation. "Have we gone back into teaching mode again, Drianeh? I hope you aren't too hard on our new Ranger candidate."

"Just explaining a few things to her, Link," Drianeh replied, with genuine fondness in her voice. She swiveled her head back to face Sisi. "Sisi, this is Link. You might say that he's our Guardian of Justice, the one who makes sure everyone's on equal footing."

Link chuckled, in a self-depreciating mode. "Well, I'd like to think I'm just doing my job, dear Drianeh."

"Considering you wrote about it on paper for your people and proclaimed it to them, even the ones who didn't want to hear it. That took bravery, my friend."

A shadow passed over Link's face, and Sisi wondered at it. The dark eyes were hooded, as if contemplating some old memory, and worry lines creased his features. The full bushy beard reminded Sisi of the Churro villagers, but unlike those villagers, Link was tall and lean. Very tall and lean, almost gaunt, as if he hadn't enough to eat, but Sisi saw the strength in that lanky frame. 

Then just as quickly, the brooding man vanished and was replaced by a good-natured, smiling man again. "Well, what's past is past. Now we concentrate on the future. Drianeh said your name is Sisi? That's a beautiful name. I understand you went through your Passage successfully, or you wouldn't be here. How are you feeling?"

"Strange, sir...so much has happened, I'm a bit confused. There's so much to understand, so much to take in...so I'm supposed to be a Ranger? What do I do? How will I learn what I need to do?"

Link smiled and said, "So many questions. Curiosity is a good thing to have, little Sisi. Let's take it one step at a time. Drianeh, why don't you go ahead and rest and have something to eat, and I'll show Sisi around, maybe find her a friend who can help her get settled."

"Thank you, Link. Sisi, I'll be back for you, all right? Link is very good with children; he'll take good care of you."

"Okay, Drianeh." She watched as Drianeh lumbered off to wherever that food and rest was, and suddenly, she felt very alone in this strange place with dragons and a tall man named Link. He seemed to sense her awkwardness and offered her his hand. She took it and they walked off the runway, hand in hand.

"Tell me about yourself, Sisi. Where are you from?"

She told Link about the Sian Mountains, and Foster-Mother Tatara and Foster-Father Meng Pao, and her life in Churros and Akaras, and of the yukka and the sweet-smelling drinks in the vats, and the mountain streams and her favorite Lookout. He listened patiently as she described the rockslide that would have covered Churros, if it wasn't for the Earth and Fire Dragons, and how she watched them destroy the rocks and how Drianeh had come to her and swooped her up into the unknown, and how they flew into the Passage, and how she built up the nerve to let go of Drianeh's tuft of fur and trust Drianeh not to let her fall as she pulled off her cloak, and how they arrived here, to the present time, where they watched the signalers and where she met Link, and now they were probably going to meet more of these Rangers and Sisi was going to learn how to be one of them.

When she ran out of things to say, as well as some of her breath, she fell silent. Link said nothing as he ruminated over her strange story, and finally said, "The Dragons never show themselves to anyone who isn't worthy to see them, Sisi. They know when a person is ready and will come to them, and it always the right time. You saw them save your village; now you are charged with saving others." He gave her an odd sideways look, as if gauging how much of his own history to tell her. "Well, everyone calls me Link because my first name is difficult to pronounce here."

"What is your first name, sir?"

"Abraham. Others call me Abe. Like Drianeh implied, I wrote an important people in my people's history about justice and freedom and equality among all. I read it in a speech at a place where there was terrible fighting and many people died. I never knew it would have been so popular, because it certainly was not during my time."

"Was it then you saw your Dragon, sir?"

Again, that shadow came upon Link's face. "No, not then; it wasn't until later. When Thaddeus came, I was in dire trouble, indeed, and he carried me off through my own Passage to here. Thaddeus is my ever-faithful companion, and he is ever by my side."

Sisi frowned and looked around. "I don't see him, sir. Where is he?"

Link smiled and tapped the side of his head with one long graceful finger. "Thaddeus is here, and here—" he also tapped his chest over his heart, with his free hand. "I sense him wherever I go. Thaddeus is not a Fire Dragon, like Drianeh. He's of Earth, and he is currently visiting his own relatives on a well-deserved holiday."

"Dragons have families too? Well...I guess that's right. They have to come from somewhere." Sisi closed her eyes and tried to feel Drianeh, just like Link could feel his Thaddeus, and suddenly—

She Felt Drianeh's surprise and welcome and a wave of love. Tears escaped from Sisi's eyes as her shattered heart and soul became whole again. She hadn't realized just how much she missed her Foster-Mother and Foster-Parents and Churros and the Sian Mountains. But that love gave her new strength and eased the hurt a bit. When she opened her eyes, she found Link smiling at her. He gave her a sage nod and left it as that. 

They walked deeper into the mountain, down a spiral staircase that curved in and about itself. Bright lights lit the way and made the walls glow. Sisi could see her reflection in the smooth, polished rock. Her face was different from the girl who left Churros; it was leaner, more sober, more serious. She missed the girl who put together ensembles of clothes and who looked over the valleys with a map...

The map...She put a hand on her cloak's pocket and felt the edge of the scroll box within it. So at least she hadn't lost it in her trip over the Sea. Perhaps later, she could show Link. Maybe he could find a way to get that cursed map to stop singing.

Soon, they reached a huge common room with trestle benches and tables padded with leather. All eyes turned to them as they walked through the threshold. Sisi felt her face flush with shyness and embarrassment and darted behind Link. He laughed and put a gentle hand on the top of her head.

"Youngsters, we have a new one. Her name is Sisi, and her Dragon is Drianeh. This is her first time here and she's very tired and confused. Can anyone help her get settled in?"

"I can," piped a voice near the back of the room. A short, squat girl with curly red hair bounced in front of them. She peered around Link to see Sisi. "Hi there. I'm Nonnie. Are you hungry? You can sit next to me; we're having a special treat tonight."

"All right," Sisi said. Nonnie offered her hand, and drew Sisi to her table. Sisi saw Link smile at her and mouth, "I'll be back.", then he ducked through the doorway. 

"Link's really nice, but we don't get to see him very often," said Nonnie. "He kinda comes and goes. So, you're Sisi? Here, sit down next to me. That's a nice dress you have on, and those boots! Wow, we don't have boots like that where I come from. It's too hot for ‘em. Heyla, make room, make room for Sisi, people."

Nonnie immediately introduced her seatmates: Coren, Jay-Jay, Lupita. They gave her an enthusiastic welcome with hugs and kisses. Sisi accepted them, even when she felt bewildered by it. It was one thing that she was going to have to get used to, she guessed.

"Look, here comes the servers with the treat!" Lupita cried and she clapped her hands.

She smiled at Sisi. "You are going to love this. Straight from the Fire Kitchen itself!"

The servers were other Rangers, dressed in fire-retardant clothes and heavy gloves. They carried ceramic platters of large oval-shaped, silver objects, and used long metal tongs to move one to each plate. Sisi stared at hers; it was HUGE, and how was she supposed to eat this? It was too hot to hold; she could feel the steam radiating from it even here. 

Coren gave her two metal implements. One had five points attached to a thin base, the other she recognized as a knife, but that was made completely of metal. "Here, let me show you how to do this. You put the fork in like this, so you can hold it still while you use the knife to cut here, through the metal foil. You don't eat the foil; it probably won't make you feel good. But it's what's inside that's yummy."

Sisi watched him slice his oval-shaped thing open, and she saw flaky yellow filling inside. Coren reached onto the table and took a scoop of white topping, then plopped it on top of the gash he just made. Then he used the knife to cut pieces off a yellow, rectangular object and put those pieces on top of the white topping. Finally, he sprinkled some green objects and some brown crunchy-looking shards on top of the whole confection.

As he did so, he describe what he was doing. "After you cut it open, you put some sour cream on it, too cool it down. Then you put some pats of butter like this—"

"Ah, butter! We used to have something like that in our village, but it was round, and made from yaks and goats!" Finally, a familiar concept in all this strangeness!

"Here, it's made from cows—"

"What's a cow?"

"They don't have cows where you come from? Hum..." Coren looked over at Jay-Jay, who was already tearing into his food. "Um, Jay-Jay, how would you describe a cow to someone who only knows yaks and goats?"

Jay-Jay pulled his fork out of his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Well," he drawled, "it's kinda like a yak, but with not so much fur, and it's white with black spots. It gives milk and cheese like a goat, except it's a different-tasting kinda milk and cheese. Cows eat grass, and not only do they give milk and cheese, but they give meat as well. So that's a cow. It's a hairless yak, I suppose."

Sisi nodded and smiled. "I understand."

"Anyway, as Jay-Jay said, these cows give us milk and butter, like this. And then you put chives—that's this green topping—and bacon bits, that's the brown, crunchy stuff. Bacon comes from pigs...those are fat pink animals that we also get meat from."

"No milk?"

"No, unless you're a little piglet gettin' milk from its momma," Jay-Jay said. "Then you mix all the stuff up...like this...and scoop it up with your fork...like this, then put it in your mouth...careful, it still might be hot, and voila." Coren chewed the mixture contentedly.

Sisi still eyed her silver-wrapped oval thing with some trepidation, but she carefully dissected it just like Coren did, and put the butter and the cream and the toppings, and scooped some of it on her fork and blew on it a little—it was still hot—and cautiously put in her mouth, and chewed. It didn't taste too bad. Rather heavy, maybe, but no more than breakfast porridge. She took another bite, and another, and soon was halfway through her food.

"See, she likes it! Sisi likes it!" Lupita crowed.

"What is this?" Sisi asked.

Nonnie grinned and said, "Well, everyone, it's called—"

They leaped from the trestle tables and sang, "Hot Potato Hot Potato, Hot Potato Hot Potato, Hot Potato, Hot Potato, Potato, Potato, Potato!"  Their song-and-dance brought laughter and applause from the other diners as they sat back into their seats.

Sisi stared at them. "Hot Potato? That's what it's called?"

"It is better that what the Water Rangers get," Lupita said, "They think cold sea spaghetti is a delicacy."

"And the Earth Rangers get mashed bananas," added Coren, with a disgusted face.

Sisi blinked. "Then what do the Air Rangers eat?"

"Something called Fruit Salad—"," answered Nonnie.

"Yummy Yummy!" they all chorused, but with a touch of sarcasm.

 "They're all vegetarians over there. Helps clear the mind for their meditations.  Bunch of Airheads, I think," Nonnie went on.

"Hey, they aren't that bad. You never know when you or your dragon might need a change in wind direction," Jay-Jay pointed out. "I've got friends over there."

Sisi listened to all this, but quietly chewed on her Hot Potato. Despite her misgivings, it was good. And filling.      


Back to Chapter Two  
Forward to Chapter Four

Fiction Excerpt #2: Nanowrimo 2006 "The Silk Dragon"

“Yak’s teeth!” she cursed and grabbed her box of scrolls. She turned and fled down the path, heart pounding, head aching, even as she knew she would never reach Churros in time. She thought of her foster parents, the yukka, the stern-faced but hardworking villagers. They were all doomed, and Sisi screamed in fear and mourning.

Then from out of nowhere came another scream in answer.

A brownish-gold shadow dove out of the clouds. Sisi froze in her tracks, unable to take her eyes off its scaly skin, its magnificent wings, its long tail. It was as huge as the mountain itself, with talons the size of ten caribou end to end, and brown eyes the color of chaochaou. Sisi recognized it from Tatara’s stories and songs.


An Earth Dragon has come to save my village! No, wait, not one...two, three!


The Earth Dragons coordinated their efforts as neatly as an aerial squadron. They extended their wings and caught the debris, flinging it a safe distance away so fast that they looked like huge tornadoes. Then out of the horizon flew another three red-gold Fire Dragons, whose hot breath vaporized the rock and ice into nothing. All six performed their duties flawlessly like a tumbling troupe.


Sisi watched, mesmerized by the sight. She had never thought them real, only figments of imagination in songs and stories. Yes, there were times when she caught glimpses of shadows in the clouds, and yes, there were times when the night stars seemed to come together in familiar patterns. But now the Dragons had come to save Churros from the landslide!


Finally, the earth stopped shaking, and the mountain was quiet. The Earth Dragons swooped in the air and vanished back into the clouds. The Fire Dragons turned to follow; Sisi wished with all her heart that they would not go, for something stirred within her, something deep within her soul. When would she see them again?


Two of them melted into the ether, but one, the smallest, turned and dove in Sisi’s direction. Bile rose into her throat as she watched it extend its razor-sharp talons, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot, and she could not move. If my life is payment for the salvation of my village, this I accept gladly! At least, get it over with quickly, Fire Dragon; I cannot bear much pain and I faint at the sight of blood. I remember last year, when the old yak was old and weak, and the village needed food, and the foreman spent a whole morning sharpening his axe and then he went to the pen and found Old Yak there, not able to walk or breathe and he lifted the axe and then—


A gentle voice interrupted her ramble. “No, Little Fire Dragon. Payment is required, but not in blood, and such things are abhorrent in peace. Have no fear, for I will not have you for a snack. Lava rock is my favorite food, not young girls.”


“Oh, I don’t have any lava rock—“ Sisi began, and then she looked into the Fire Dragon’s eyes...and fell into them, down, down, down, into the ruby depths, and a part of her went willingly, while she felt a warm, comforting presence settle into her heart, and she knew that all the whispers, all the rumors, all the disapproving stares from the villagers had been worth it all.


“My name is Drianeh, and I am a Fire Dragon from the South. Will you be my Mistress, now until the end of time?”

She opened her mouth to refuse—what about Foster-Mother Tatara and Foster-Father Meng Pao? What will they do without me?—but her heart overrode the practical side of her brain, “Yes, oh Gods, yes!”


“Then climb aboard, and we will begin your training, Little Fire Dragon.”


Like a woman possessed, she tucked the scroll box under her arm and climbed onto Drianeh’s back. To Sisi’s surprise, the Fire Dragon’s skin was smooth, not rough, and covered with tufts of scarlet fur. She found a handhold on one of those tufts and secured her grip.


“Hold on tight...for here we go!”


And Drianeh beat her enormous wings and launched into the sky, and they left Churros and the Sian Mountains far below them.

*****

The wind cut into her with deadly teeth, enough to penetrate to the bone and make her teeth rattle out of her head. Sisi couldn’t even release her grip on Drianeh’s mane even if she wanted to; her fingers were frozen to the fur. Ice crystals formed upon her eyes and hair, even through the long cloak and festival gown. She shivered but could not get warm enough.

“Hold on, Little Dragon...we’re almost there. Whatever you do, DON’T OPEN YOUR EYES UNTIL I TELL YOU. UNDERSTAND?” She could only nod at Drianeh’s instructions for her voice was paralyzed.


The Fire Dragon reared her head and roared a challenge to the elements that seemed to echo forever. Drianeh’s wings seemed to cut through the wind like butter with no hesitation. Sisi felt something gathering around them, like a semi-solid fist that squeezed them in its grip. Then the ghostly fingers closed and shut out the starlight. The pressure in her head increased, as if her body was steeling itself for a giant sneeze, but that sneeze had somehow gotten stuck between her sinuses and her lungs. Tension danced on her skin like little pinpricks. Sisi prayed like she had never prayed before, to every God and Goddess that ever was, were and would be. Perhaps it was she who had died, and this dragon was taking her to the Netherhells to roast for Eternity...


Then Drianeh emitted a single high-pitched note, clear as crystal, sweet and shrill at the same time, beautiful and haunting. The vibration hung there, suspended in space, then bathed them in brilliant color that stung her closed eyelids. She resolutely kept those eyes shut as she was too frightened to disobey Drianeh’s command.
Her world lurched once, twice, then they burst into the sun...


The cold became warm, the winds became calmer, and the crushing pressure vanished all at once. Where are we? Are we in Paradise? Sisi still did not dare to open her eyes.


“Not Paradise,’ Drianeh said with a snort, “but somewhere close.”


“May I open my eyes now, Lady Dragon?”


“Yes, you may, but remember my name is Drianeh. Do not call me Lady, for I am definitely not one.”


Sisi cracked one eye open, then two. She blinked tears from her eyes as they focused, then she cautiously looked around her. “Oh—“


They were over a stretch of blue water, capped with white waves, and broken by rocky islands. Sisi had never seen so much water in her life; this was much more than the mountain streams near her village. She had never been this warm in her life, and the cloak stifled her. Sweat already dotted her brow and ran through her hair.


“Where are we, Drianeh?”


“This is called the Passage. Each Passage is different for each Ranger; some come from the warm tropics and so their Passage is through the cold. You come from the mountains, so your Passage is over the sea. This is the main path to our destination.”


“It’s...hot.”


Drianeh chuckled deep in her throat. “Indeed it is, Little Dragon. It must be uncomfortable for you.”


“Yes, very.”


“Why don’t you take off your cloak? I’m sure it will feel much cooler.”


“You mean...I have to let go? Won’t I fall off your back?” Suddenly, that wide azure sea did not seem so beautiful. What was under that surface? Back home, the mountain streams were full of long fish with sharp teeth, that ate anything they were offered, whether it be living or dead. What if their cousins lived under these waters, their larger, more vicious cousins?


“Well, if you feel safer, you don’t have to. I just thought I would make the suggestion. I wouldn’t want you to be a crispy critter before we get to where we’re going, you know.”


“‘Crispy critter’?” Sisi’s tongue stumbled on the unfamiliar term. Then again, what language were they speaking? Obviously, she understood Drianeh and Drianeh understood her, so there was no barrier, but still...


Maybe the villagers were right, after all. Maybe she was weird.


“Oh, remember what kind of Dragon I am. I’m a Fire Dragon, and...well...ummm...I suppose in your words it would be liao-ba xia-xia wa.”


“Liao-ba-sha-sha-war,” Sisi corrected automatically. “The accent’s on third word. Oh, forgive me for—“


”No need to apologize, Little Dragon. Goddess only knows, words are the blocks of friendship between two, and the correction is welcome! I’d hate to say something offensive, you understand, especially when you have nine hundred and fifty-two different tongues in your head—“


”Nine hundred and fifty-two. You speak them all?”


“Not all completely fluently. The last time I was hatched, I ended up having five Ranger partners, and all five came from different places and times. One was from the South of America and he always said he was ‘fixin to do something’. I’d thought he was so clumsy that he broke everything he touched! I was a bit worried about his piloting skills!” Drianeh laughed again at the memory. “He only meant that was going to do something. That was his way of saying it. Still, I got into the habit of carrying building implements with me! Especially something called ‘duck tape’. Miracle invention, that. The Goddess must have invented it to repair Her heavenly harp or somesuch.”


“Oh.” Sisi’s brain was addled by the unfamiliar words and names and concepts. She now understood “crispy critter”, but “America” and “duck tape” made no sense. It made her feel somewhat unsophisticated. Drianeh had been to so many places and so many times.


“The last time you were hatched? I thought dragons came out of the egg only once.”


“Well, most dragons do, but Fire Dragons are like the phoenix birds, who—“ Drianeh broke off and asked, “Phoenix bird?”


“Yes, I know what they are,” Sisi laughed.


“Just checking. Well...when a Fire Dragon gets old, they build themselves a pyre and burn their old selves to become new. We add the old memories to the new, so we don’t forget.”


“So you’re immortal....?”


“In a sense, yes, but we die in accidents, battle, so we’re not invulnerable.”


Sisi nodded, and more sweat poured into her eyes. She was positively broiling under her cloak...and they were still flying over the stretch of warm ocean. How long were they going to be in this so-called Passage? She was going to be one “crispy critter” before they arrived at wherever they were going to be.


But she could always take off the cloak.


That meant actually letting go of her hold on Drianeh’s back.


Security and pride? Or daring to change her circumstances to fit her better?

After all, she had left Churro for the unknown, despite her comfortable life with Foster- Mother and Foster-Father. How was this different? If anything, taking off the cloak would make her feel better in this warmth. Worse case scenario, she would lose her balance and fall down into the ocean, where the huge hungry fish were...


Silly girl, this is just like riding a yak, she admonished herself.


No, it wasn’t. She was riding a flying Fire Dragon.


But Drianeh wouldn’t let her fall, would she?


Of course not. Why would Drianeh go through all this trouble to snatch her from Churros to whisk her to wherever, only to have her swimming with the fishes?

Still...


Goat’s turds, why not? I’m baking. Sisi forced her fingers to let go, carefully, from the tuft of scarlet fur and she clamped her legs around Drianeh’s body, shifting her balance. With one quick movement, she pulled the cloak over her head and draped it into her lap, then she buried her hands again in the fur. Then a strange thing happened: her deathly-tight grip relaxed when she realized that Drianeh would never let her fall. The knowledge softened her muscles and she sat as if on her favorite yak back home. A barrier in front of them seemed to dissolve, and the surroundings finally changed from endless blue sky and sea...


To a mountain crag. Drianah made a wide swooping turn and reversed her wings to slow her speed. They landed on a smooth outcrop with no trouble. Sisi blinked and glanced around her. It should be bone-chilling again, like in the Sian Mountains, but the air was warm. Not hot like over the ocean, but comfortable enough that she did not need the cloak.


“Congratulations, you passed through the Passage,” Drianeh rumbled.


“I did?” Sisi shook her head. “I just took off my cloak.”


“You had to trust me to do it, and you had to trust yourself, Little Fire Dragon. When you overcame your doubts, you broke one of the chains that bound you. You did it. Now we’re here, at the Fire Aerie. Welcome home, Ranger Sisi.”

Nanowrimo 2006 Story: "The Silk Dragon"

My Nanowrimo 2006 story "The Silk Dragon" will be moved from the old site to "Annie's Flights of Fantasy", my archive of original work (non fan-fiction). Here is the link to the Introduction page, which will have all the links to the "sessions" or "chapters". Each "session" will have links to the page before and after it. 


Why "session" and not "chapter"? Nanowrimo is "National Novel Writing Month" (November), and the goal is to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. I began writing and didn't stop.  squeezed in more writing in between taking care of (then) two kids, a 3 year old and a 10 month old at the time. The places where I had to "break" are the "session" breaks. They're of various lengths and not necessarily where I'd actually break the story into chapters.  


Yes, this work is unedited, and I've kept it in its original form to show the process of writing.  It's raw, and yeah, it's silly and rather weird.It's the process, not necessarily the end result, that is important in this novel. And when I was running out of steam, I pulled ideas from kids' shows, real life, history, etc. al. See how many you can identify.


Read and enjoy! And please, leave comments! :-)




All writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010