2019 Daily Writing Challenge August 29

2019 Daily Writing Challenge Day 240

Today Is Day 241 of the 2019 Daily Writing Challenge.

Did you write yesterday? Let us know your Day 240 word count in the comments.

———————

What is the 2019 Daily Writing Challenge? It is simple: Write something every day.

Write a little, write a lot. Just write. You have all day.

It doesn’t matter if you write 5 words, 5,000 words or something in between. The idea is to establish a daily writing habit. If you miss a day, don’t worry. Write today and report tomorrow on your success.

A great journey begins with one step. A great writing habit begins with one word. Go!

Check back tomorrow for the Day 241 Report and let us know how you did.

_________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Paving the Road to Impossible – Daily Quote

start-by-doing-whats-necessary-then-do-whats-possible-and-suddenly-you-are-doing-the-impossible.-francis-of-assisi.

What is your definition of “Impossible”?  Something no one has done? Or something you don’t think you can accomplish? I couch my “impossibilities” as problems seeking answers. That interpretation creates solvable equations and solving them requires effort. If the goal is doable, it’s a matter of completing the required work. Climbing Mt Everest is possible, over 4,000 people have reached it, but it comes with a price. Your hope of attaining the summit may cost you your life.

Naming the Impossible’s entrance fee leaves the rest to you. Are you willing to pay the ante? The solution’s phase two is commitment. You must find your burning desire, bolster your resolve to complete the work that will advance you toward your goal. Don’t expect others to support you because chances are, they won’t. Grow accustomed to failing. Soichiro Honda once said, “Success is 99% failure.” The key is picking yourself up and continuing the journey.

Another trick is to stop doing stupid stuff. Any unnecessary activity is an excuse, a self-sabotaging barrier. Try cultivating your inner parent. You must cultivate a voice in your head telling you to quit playing games and get your homework done.

Life presents daily challenges and without impossible challenges where would humanity be? I prefer to take charge and transform my world from a guided tour to a self-directed adventure.

What is the cost of your “impossible” dream?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

https://ko-fi.com/johawkthewriter#

Follow Me – Friday Fictioneers

Title: Follow Me
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

PHOTO PROMPT © Linda Kreger

Sasha’s quest for world domination was a slow process. Her extensive research in neuroscience and cult psychology formed the basis of her plan. Her studies confirmed the importance of preparing the subject’s mind, training and conditioning it to accept and execute her suggestions without question.

The first steps were simple. Couched in benign requests, few people objected, and peer pressure forced compliance as she led them through children’s games. They were rules of conduct even negligent parents taught their offspring. Sit quietly, don’t ask questions, follow the leader.

The next step was a compulsory five-minute rendition of the chicken dance.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

https://ko-fi.com/johawkthewriter#

My Shot at A Better Attitude – Daily Quote

attitude-is-more-important-than-the-past-than-education-than-money-than-circumstances-than-what-people-do-or-say.-it-is-more-important-than-appearance-giftedness-or-skill.-charles-r.-swi.

As a writer, I spend hours in various local coffee shops, presumably writing. But sometimes, when the muse is mute, I observe the baristas. An adorable male barista repeats his customer’s orders.

“A tall blonde, no room, for a tall blonde. I should have guessed,” he jokes, and everyone chuckles.

“Venti double shot espresso on ice?  You know, they should call this one ‘The Jackhammer’,” he says as he shakes and jumps his way to the caffeine machine. His customer laughs until he reaches the exit where turns to wave with a shaking hand.

The other barista on duty is having a bad day. He sighs, he rolls his eyes. He laments he always gets the cranky customers. But, as I watch the patrons, their orders and the interactions, the only difference is the barista’s attitudes. The first one loves his job, or maybe he’s just decided to have fun while he works. His coworker is marking time, watching the clock tick away the moments remaining on his sentence.

Attitude is everything, and it is completely within our control. How might a change in your point of view affect your outlook or your business? Life is crazy, and it’s easy to succumb. I use what I call my 30-second meditation. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, I hold it all inside. Then in one sweeping movement, I release it all and smile. Attitude adjusted; I opt for fun.

Maybe I’ll give The Jackhammer a shot.

What attitude do you choose today?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

https://ko-fi.com/johawkthewriter#

2019 Daily Writing Challenge August 28

2019 Daily Writing Challenge Day 239

Today Is Day 240 of the 2019 Daily Writing Challenge.

Did you write yesterday? Let us know your Day 239 word count in the comments.

———————

What is the 2019 Daily Writing Challenge? It is simple: Write something every day.

Write a little, write a lot. Just write. You have all day.

It doesn’t matter if you write 5 words, 5,000 words or something in between. The idea is to establish a daily writing habit. If you miss a day, don’t worry. Write today and report tomorrow on your success.

A great journey begins with one step. A great writing habit begins with one word. Go!

Check back tomorrow for the Day 240 Report and let us know how you did.

_________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

A Matter of Timing – FFfPP

Title: A Matter of Timing
Source:  FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #30
Word count: 200 words

Odette glanced at the building’s clock as she walked. Early as usual, and Derick would be late, calm, cool and bemused by her irritation. Her heart pounded, as she scanned the piazza. An old man leaning against a column, feeding the pigeons. A woman wearing a headscarf pushing a baby stroller. Cafe tables spilling onto the pavement, red-checked tablecloths flapping in the breeze.

That’s when she saw him. His ball cap obscuring his face, contrasting with neatly pressed trousers and a white button-down shirt. He touched his right ear, and Odette struggled to keep her panic under control.

She took the portico’s steps two at a time, cool air from the darkness beyond the open central doors hit her face. She concentrated on the darkest spot and wondered who waited inside.

She heard footsteps behind her. Running. She entered the building, reaching her target, she cut left and sprinted toward the exit. She leaned against the doorjamb in the dark, motionless.

Mr. Ball Cap and Miss Mom ran in, racing to the center of the rotunda, they looked for her. Odette slipped around the door, turned right, and hugged the wall.

Derick pulled up on his scooter, “Am I late?”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

https://ko-fi.com/johawkthewriter#

Timing for Priorities That Matter– Daily Quote

i-learned-that-we-can-do-anything-but-we-cant-do-everything...-at-least-not-at-the-same-time.-so-think-of-your-priorities-not-in-terms-of-what-activities-you-do-but-when-you-do-them.-tim

Life presents limitless choices, so many, we can become paralyzed, unable to move forward. Sources suggest we make a staggering 35,000 choices each day. Theoretically, we can achieve anything we set our mind to accomplishing. But making a choice means we deny ourselves hundreds of alternatives. Performing the task requires time, and time is the limiting constraint.

Daily, you will need to eat, sleep and perhaps commute to your employer and eight hours of work. Those activities will consume two-thirds of your day. Your free time, the remaining eight hours you can play a game, watch tv, go for a walk, or write your novel. Priorities set in your discretionary hours are the ones which may define your life.

These precious hours I manage and control, optimizing each second. I limit and constrict my other obligations so I can push more time into doing the things I love. Writing, reading, expanding my mind, spending time with family, they are the non-negotiables in my life

How do you manage your priorities?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

2019 Daily Writing Challenge August 27

2019 Daily Writing Challenge Day 238

Today Is Day 239 of the 2019 Daily Writing Challenge.

Did you write yesterday? Let us know your Day 238 word count in the comments.

———————

What is the 2019 Daily Writing Challenge? It is simple: Write something every day.

Write a little, write a lot. Just write. You have all day.

It doesn’t matter if you write 5 words, 5,000 words or something in between. The idea is to establish a daily writing habit. If you miss a day, don’t worry. Write today and report tomorrow on your success.

A great journey begins with one step. A great writing habit begins with one word. Go!

Check back tomorrow for the Day 239 Report and let us know how you did.

_________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Your Majesty — Ralph and the Prince Part III

If you missed anything you can read
Part I,  Here.
Part II, Here.

The Lucciola moved arrow-swift along the gloomy forest trail as the exhausted stallion struggled to follow. Ralph’s skin tingled, and he glanced behind him. He saw nothing except the dust kicked up from flying hooves, but his gut told him they were being followed. The dawn’s growing brightness provided no comfort for him and he worried about seeing the Lucciola in the daylight. The panting and lathered horse began to slow.

“We’re killing him,” Ralph thought then he noticed amber orb had slowed as well.

The glow veered to the left of the trail and stopped. In the stillness, Ralph heard a faint hum emanating from their guiding light.

“Are we lost?”

They bounced in the air, synchronized with the beat of his voice, then they moved further into the woods. The stallion leaped backward, turning his head right, he stepped toward the road. Ralph slid from the animal’s back and coaxed him in the opposite direction. His nervousness wasn’t calming the horse. There was no trail here, no signs anyone had ever passed this way. The Lucciola beckoned, inching deeper into the forest.

“Come on, boy.”

Ralph’s voice shook and his shoulders drooped as he pulled the stallion’s reins. He responded by tossing his mane, neighing his defiance his eyes rolled, and he backpedaled. Ralph grabbed the bridle.

“Ah, please,” he said trying to soothe himself as much as the horse. Ralph wondered if the sound pounding in his ears belonged to his beating heart or their unseen pursuers.

In the forest’s stillness, tree limbs swayed, the grasses whispered, and a brisk wind swept across the road pushing them towards their fate. Committed, they picked their way over uneven ground, around brambles, and under branches, trusting Sirona’s enchantments. The broken terrain transformed, becoming a thin line, an almost discernible footpath.

The prince moaned dragging Ralph’s attention away from the light they followed. A heavy gray mist, shrouded the small party, cutting them off from any return.

“Forward then,” Ralph said as if he had another choice.

Their journey twisted, winding back and forth, as they navigated a decent. Ralph swore he heard rushing water. They spiraled upward, the path curling through an ancient stand of gnarled pines. The ground turned to stone, and they climbed into the silent haze.

The stallion’s hooves clicked on granite steps as he bounded higher and the prince groaned with each jarring movement. They continued the winding ascent up the hillside.

“How much further?” Ralph asked, surveying the damp rock walls. Moisture dripped from the vegetation clinging in the cracks, but the Lucciola had disappeared.

“You’ve got to be kidding. We’re in the middle of nowhere. We can’t even turn to go back. You’re supposed to help me save him,” Ralph shouted. The dank air downed his words and he leaned against the wall.

“Damn it.” Ralph beat his fists against the rough surface.

The horse nudged him, pushing him off balance, he stumbled up the next step.

“All right,” Ralph yanked the reins, pulling the horse’s head as he regained his footing. They stared, each eyeing the other for a moment.

“Yes. You’re correct,” he said stroking its muzzle, “It’s not like we have options.”

A few yards ahead the stairs ended in a flat circular space. A solid wooden door, which appeared to be part of the stone, greeted them. Ralph dropped the reins and walked to it. Grabbing the wrought-iron handle, he pulled, then he pushed, jamming his shoulder against it with all his weight. It didn’t budge. Shaking his head, he tapped three times.

They waited. The stallion pranced in the tiny courtyard, blowing air through his nose. Ralph stood on one foot then the other.

He knocked again. Harder this time.

Ralph surveyed the enclosure. Overhead, an outcrop protected them from the elements. They could pitch a camp here, rest for a while and try to make the prince comfortable. He moved to the prince’s side, ready to slide him from his seat when he heard the sound of grating metal. He turned to face the unknown. Someone was releasing the bolt. Shuddering, the heavy door tore free from its seal, the hinges screeched, and it opened inward revealing a blinding light.

The stallion shied, moving back a pace while Ralph raised his hand, blocking the glare to see what lay inside. The sweet aroma of gardenia wafted into the courtyard. A figure obscured the brightness and stepped onto the stone floor.

Iridescent emerald-colored robes floated before him. Flashes of shocking bright blue took his breath away. Shimmering rosy opals circled an alabaster pink neck and spilled down the front of her gown. Green tinted white hair tumbled in long strands that sparkled as she moved. Captured by her coal-black eyes, he stood unable to move, incapable of speech.

“Oh,” she said, smiling in a way that made Ralph’s heart race.

“Your Majesty,” she bowed her head and dropped into a deep curtsey. Ralph turned, looking at his friend who was still unconscious, his body draped across the horse’s back. The dark cloak proudly displayed the prince’s royal crest.

“Ahem, no. He is Prince Kennward, son of King Alaric of Otsolurra,” Ralph stuttered as he tried to imitate the herald’s announcements at court.

“Ah, Sirona sent us. Well, she enchanted the Lucciola…” he stopped when the woman lifted her face and blinked. He took a deep breath and began again.

“He has been poisoned by our enemies. She administered something… an elixir? She said D’ArtAnna could save him. Can you help him?”

“I am D’ArtAnna,” she stated as she rose, and brushed past Ralph. She raised the prince’s head, and prying his eyes open she gazed into them. Slender fingers with emerald green nails pressed into his neck.

“Hmm,” she muttered then picked up the reins, “You may have gotten here just in time. Follow me. We don’t have a minute to spare.”

She sprinted toward the entryway, her robes billowing behind her, she didn’t look back. Without another word, Ralph followed. In the distance, the portal banged shut, and he heard the bolt clang, locking into place.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

https://ko-fi.com/johawkthewriter#

Chalk Outline

The truth is lost in time. Erased by centuries of chest-pounding men. What power could a mere teenage girl lacking noble birth, hold over her betters? I’m here to tell you, women have their ways.

Fluent in Latin, an educated mind grasps diplomatic intricacies and gathers skillful, wealthy, and intellectual people into a formidable defensive circle. Ambitious men heed the girl’s counsel and indulge her whims. Ludovico the lover, patron of Milan provides influence and fortune. Rare books, animated discussions, beautiful music, and a sitting with the court painter are the order of the day. A compliment here, a good word there, helps ensure the rising star of a talented artist.

Tokens and favors are currency more valuable than gold. Love is not an emotion to consider when status, livelihood, and beneficial concords are the prize. Diplomacy dictates marriage alliances, and it sweeps aside feelings. But an acknowledged son forges deep bonds with his father and protocol insists on a mother’s security. A gift of Carmagnola Palace serves as a just reward and an advantageous wedding seal the deal.

My life would have been forgotten except for the brilliant painter and a young woman’s captured image as she tried to keep her one true love. The work was both cursed and charmed. Recused, hidden, found, exiled, stolen, almost destroyed, a heavy army boot left its insult upon my face. Its survival is a miracle

Safe today, the painter’s reputation dances with my legacy. For now, my story endures.

 

*** The chalk image is a representation of Lady with an Ermine – Cecilia Gallerani.  A painting by Leonardo da Vinci ***

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

https://ko-fi.com/johawkthewriter#