Story time!
Just for you, chickenlady.

Give me a few minutes to get it onto the replies.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 16:55, 14 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

Holiday
Grizelda was just finishing wiping down the countertop and getting the last of the fingerprints off of the glass when the kids came in.

The kids were typical teenagers, strolling along and trying to look nonchalant as they went through the store. One girl headed over toward the books while another made for the incense and the third made a beeline for the jewelry case that Grizelda had just finished polishing. None of them wanted to look uncool by gawking, but they all stared at the merchandise through their masks of feigned indifference.

Grizelda straightened the pin she wore that declared her to be Nancy and smiled at the girls. “Just let me know if I can help you with anything.”

The girl in the book section poked through the titles. “Do you have any books on how to do spells?”

Grizelda’s smile grew a little strained. “Not ones that list ready-made spells. But we do have quite a few that teach about the craft so that you can formulate your own.”

The girl shoved back the books she had taken down, and Grizelda noticed that she had just jammed them all in one spot rather than putting them back where she had gotten them.

The girl at the case peered down at a pentacle. “Hey, can I see that one?” Her finger left an oily smudge on the glass.

“Certainly.” Grizelda opened the case and drew out the pentacle, a pretty interwoven piece of silver with an onyx cabochon in the center, and laid it on the counter.

The girl looked at it but wouldn’t touch it. She glanced up at Grizelda. “So what happens when you wear it?”

“Umm… nothing, really. It’s just a symbol.”

“It doesn’t have any powers?”

Grizelda struggled to keep her temper down. “No, of course not. It’s a new piece, never worn, and hasn’t taken on anyone else’s energy.”

“Oh… I thought that if you wore a pentacle you were protected or something.”

“No more so than a crucifix does. I see that you have one on. Does it have any special properties?”

The girl looked startled. “No, it’s just one that I bought at the mall.”

“Well, a new pentacle is just like your crucifix- a pretty bit of metal formed into a symbol.”

“But it’s a symbol of the devil, isn’t it?”

Grizelda’s head was pounding. “No. Not any more so than a Buddha is.”

“But Buddhism is a religion!”

“As is wicca, or any of the other earth based religions. They’re just not formally organized.”

The girl gave a disparaging sniff and moved on to a display of pendulums.

Grizelda glanced at the other girls just in time to see a small box of incense disappear into a pocket, and that was enough. She muttered a couple of words and made a gesture at the girl with one hand while gripping a piece of sandstone with the other, then did the same toward the other two girls.

The incense thief looked startled and pressed her hand to her belly. Her expression began to turn to one of dismay, and she hurried over to the counter. “Excuse me, do you have a bathroom here?”

“No, I’m afraid not. The nearest one is at the McDonald’s on the next block.”

The girl looked panic stricken. “But I really need one now!” Her face began to gleam with a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry. The zoning laws are very strict here about who can use the facilities in this building. Our bathroom is for employees only.”

The girl started to reply, but was interrupted by a loud and vulgar sound. Her eyes got huge and her face went pale, and she began to back toward the door.

Her friends looked at her in horror. “Oh my god, Kristy!” They clapped their hands to their noses, then slapped them over their mouths as their own bellies began to rumble. The three girls bolted from the store, the seats of their tight designer jeans showing spreading stains as they ran down the block.

Grizelda went to prop open the door just as Karen came out from the back. “Nancy? What just happened-“ Her eyes got round as the stench hit her. “Oh my god!”

“Some girls just got ill and took off toward McDonald’s. Don’t worry, the air will clear in a few minutes.”

“I hope so! I’ll go open the back door too.” She bustled toward the back.

Grizelda opened her hand and looked down at the crumbled sandstone in her hand and smiled. Yes, knowing the craft had some definite advantages.

*******

Grizelda opened the door to her apartment, hung her keys on a hook by the door and hung her jacket on a hook on the back of the door. Her cat heard the closing of the door and came to investigate, so she scooped her up. Rubbing her fuzzy little head, Grizelda plopped the cat down on a chair in the living room and went to check the refrigerator.

The cat followed her, a soft black cloud wrapping herself around Grizelda’s ankles. Her big yellow-green eyes implored as she gave voice to a tiny mew.

“Yes, yes, I’ll feed you, you goofy thing. Now get out from under my feet before you get stepped on again… Hey! I told you to get out from under my feet! Isabella? Come back here. Are you all right?”

The cat gave her a look of hurt indignation and stalked off to the living room.

She sighed and shook her head. Damn fool cat.

After dinner she sat down in the overstuffed chair in her living room, but the TV stayed off. Isabella bounced up in her lap and nuzzled her chin, and she absently pulled the cat into a snuggle against her chest. Her eyes took in the living room as though seeing it for the first time.

It was clean and comfortable, like the rest of her house. She had two tall bookcases full of a mix of hardcovers and paperbacks, two big overstuffed chairs with lights suitable for reading, a TV and a stereo, and a green oriental rug on the floor. On the walls were paintings, mostly watercolors of landscapes, with a few odd fantasy paintings of dragons or fairies or trees thrown in. Her drum and her tambourine also hung on the walls, and in the corner sat her guitar.

Her bedroom was also a comfortable space, with a nice big bed and a couple of dressers and a bookcase full of paperbacks. The kitchen was clean and bright, with plants in the windows and stained glass pieces hanging above them. The apartment smelled of incense and fresh bread from last night’s baking.

And she was thoroughly tired of it all.

When was the last time she took a vacation? A year? Two? Surely she could get some time off from the store. Karen was a good boss, and liked having her there as she could usually answer the odd questions that people came in to ask. She didn’t know if Karen really knew that she was a witch, or that those odd customers were her peers, but she wasn’t about to volunteer that information. As far as Karen was concerned, she was Nancy, just a pleasant woman in her thirties with an odd flair for dressing and a head full of occult lore.

Tomorrow she would discuss taking some leave and then make some reservations.

*******

The beach was at its best this time of year, she thought. It was early autumn, so the weather was still warm without being stifling, and the beaches were pretty empty. She smiled and took off her sandals to walk in the wet sand where the waves broke, her gauzy skirt billowing around her knees in the breeze that caught her curly dark hair. She strolled a distance along the beach to an area that only had a few families in it, and laid out her towel on a nice wide empty spot. She took off the skirt and the light cotton blouse, and tugged at the deep red bikini to get it in place. She had already coated herself with sunscreen, so she went straight for the water.

After a good swim she came up to her towel and lay down, the sunlight baking the salt water off of her. She smiled and relaxed and was starting to doze… when the quiet was broken by electric guitars.

Forty feet away six boys in their late teens or early twenties plopped a large red cooler on the sand, followed by a boombox which was moaning about being free as a bird now. They were shouting at each other to be heard above the boombox, and while their banter was good natured, it was peppered with expletives. Two of them had cigarettes going, and the smell overpowered the salt air as it drifted toward her.

Grizelda wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore them, but they were getting louder. She heard the cooler open, and moments later she could smell cheap beer on the wind. She grimaced, then sighed and sat up.

They had a football out now, and spread out across the open area. One of them was now about ten feet from her, and as the ball came he jumped for it and sprayed her with sand. In her most freezing tone she said, “Excuse me.”

The kid turned, startled. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” He threw the ball back to his friend, then looked back over his shoulder at her as he noticed her ripe curves in the bikini. He moved a respectful distance away, but she noticed that his gaze kept wandering over toward her, as did those of his friends. Suddenly the energy shifted, and she knew that they were starting to show off for her.

She waited until the nearest one was glancing her way, and when his friend threw the ball she twitched her fingers. The ball accelerated, and just before the kid could turn back to it the ball slammed into his belly hard enough to drop him on the sand, wheezing.

His friends howled with laughter, and the boy sat up with his face registering mortified rage. He stood, picked up the ball and flung it at the one who had thrown it, and again she accelerated it so that it slammed the boy over backward. “Hey! What the hell! What did you do that for?”

“Well why did you slam me with it, you jackass?”

The two of them strode toward each other, shouting insults, and their friends hurried in to keep them apart. They got the two boys calmed down, and one of them reached into the cooler for another round of beer. Grizelda muttered an incantation as they took the cans, and when they took a drink they all spat it out. There was more yelling as they realized that what was in the cans was beer that had already been used, and several of them immediately vomited.

She gathered her things and stood, and as she walked past them she wrinkled her nose at the cheap beer. “I really don’t know how you can drink that stuff. It always tasted like carbonated piss to me.”

She was still grinning as she returned to her hotel room.

*******

The next morning she returned to the beach, and this time there were no teenagers with footballs or Frisbees to contend with. Again she swam and lay down on her towel and dozed in the sun.

And again the peace was shattered, but this time by the whining of a small engine. She growled something very un-ladylike and sat up.

The jet ski was about sixty feet out, and the guy riding it was jumping waves with it, looping around on his own wake, roaring up to try to get airborne. The motor screamed as he jumped, and the slapping of the hull against the water reached her even at that distance. He kept out a distance in the water, but even so she could see that there were people swimming away from his as fast as they could. They exited the water with angry looks, but the rider only noticed the waves he was jumping.

Grizelda sang a song in time with the waves, and as she sang the waves got bigger. She watched the waves, and as the jet ski headed up one wave she gestured with her hand as another wave towered up behind it. The second wave grew another five feet, and as the jet ski got airborne it slammed squarely into the face of the wave.

The rider was knocked off of the jet ski and tumbled through the water as the machine floated out. Grizelda’s song shifted slightly, and now the jet ski was picking up speed as it floated out to sea.

The rider stood up, saw the jet ski going out, and began to splash out after it. But as he got waist deep in the water a triangular fin broke the surface just behind the jet ski, and he turned and ran from the water. He stood shaking and cursing as the fin cruised back and forth and the jet ski went further out from shore, then ran down the beach toward the marina.

Grizelda smiled and lay back down.

*******

The following day Grizelda decided that she had had enough of the beach. She packed up her stuff into her little Honda and drove inland.

She headed into the mountains, and looked appreciatively at the trees lining the road. This was more like it! She hadn’t been camping in years. She saw a sign for a large sporting goods store and got off at the next exit, and got back on the highway an hour later with a load of brand new stuff.

There was a campground thirty miles down the road, and she was able to get a spot off to the edge. The tent was reasonably easy to put up, and the campsite turned out to have a water spigot. She got out her new pots and pans and lifted out the cooler of food, then piled the wood she had bought at the office into a neat stack in the fire pit. She took up a stick and poked it into the center of the pile and sang, and where the stick touched the logs burst into flame.

She went into the woods and emerged a few minutes later with three eight foot branches, and she sang as she trimmed them with her new hatchet. She then bound them together at the top with some fine hemp rope, hooked a loop of chain around the top and set the tripod over the fire. The chain hung down to just the right height for her to hang a kettle on, which she filled about four inches deep with water from the tap.

She sliced up a pepper and an onion and threw them into a skillet, then added some tomatoes and smoked sausage. A sprinkle of minced garlic and some salt, then a little basil and oregano, followed by a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. The fire pit had three large rocks in it which she pushed to form a triangle around the burning wood, then put the skillet on top of them. She put the cover on the skillet and went back to unloading her car.

By the time she had everything set up in her tent the skillet was giving off a wonderful scent. She scooped a cup of water into a small pot from the kettle and put some rice in it and nestled that into the side of the fire until it started to boil, then pulled it out and stirred it as she stirred the skillet. When the rice was done she scooped it out onto a plate and put the stewed sausage and vegetables over it, and tossed more wood onto the fire. She settled back into her folding canvas chair with a contented sigh, put the plate on her lap and reached for a beer from the cooler.

“Wow, that smells good. What is it?”

She looked up in surprise and saw a young boy standing there. He was about eight years old, dressed in dirty overalls and scuffed up sneakers. He wore no shirt, and she could see his ribs. She smiled at him. “It’s sausage and peppers and onions with tomatoes. Would you like some? I have plenty.”

His eyes never left her plate as he nodded. She got out a second plate and fork, scooped the remainder of the rice onto the plate and poured the sausage and peppers over it. She gestured to the cooler. “I’m afraid that’s the only thing I have to sit on.”

He sat down and took the plate, and immediately dug into the food. She was amused and concerned by his appetite, but when he looked up and she smiled at him he smiled back. She decided that she liked this kid. “What’s your name?”

“Tommy.”

“Good to meet you, Tommy. I’m Nancy.” She decided that her mundane name was better to use under the circumstances. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes please.”

She was impressed by his manners, and grinned as she got a bottle of water out of the car. A quick incantation and she handed him a bottle of apple juice. “Here you are.”

He finished his dinner and took his plate over to the faucet to rinse it, and again she was impressed. “Are you and your family camping out near here?”

The boy shook his head. “My folks run the campground.”

“Ah.” She remembered the woman at the counter, and saw her expressive eyes in Tommy’s face. “Do they know where you are?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Sometimes during the day I walk around and look for other kids to play with.”

“Well, maybe we should go tell them that you’re with me. They’re probably worried-“

“Tommy!”

Grizelda looked up and saw the woman from the front office running toward them. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I’ve just been here, Mom. This is Nancy. She’s really nice.”

The woman looked mistrustfully at Grizelda for a moment, then sighed. “I’m sorry if he’s been bothering you.”

“Not at all, it’s been nice having his company during dinner. He’s quite the little gentleman.”

Her brow furrowed. “He had dinner with you?”

“Yes, it was very nice. I had more than I could eat, so it worked out perfectly.”

His mother gave her son a dirty look. “I already have dinner.”

“But Mom, I didn’t want hot dogs and ramen noodles again!”

“Well, that’s what we have, and we won’t get anything else for another two days until we get paid again.”

Grizelda spoke up. “I would love it if you and your family would join me for dinner. I have plenty more that I can cook.”

She glanced at the skillet, and Grizelda could see her hunger, but she shook her head. “Thanks, but we’re fine. We’re just a little short this week because we had to put new brakes on our truck. Friday I’ll go to town for groceries.” She smiled, and Grizelda could see how tired she was. “It’s very nice of you to offer, though. Now come on, Tommy, you need a bath.”

“Awww…” Tommy pouted for a moment, then looked back at Grizelda. “Thanks for dinner. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I hope so. Good night.”

They walked off through the dimming twilight, and Grizelda leaned back in her chair with her beer to watch the fire.

*******

It was almost dark now, and the insects started to make themselves known. Grizelda swatted her sixth mosquito and muttered a curse. She had forgotten how the damned things swarmed in the evening and morning, and how much she hated getting bitten. But she hadn’t been camping in a long time, not even this type of cheating camping with running water and showers on site, so her oversight was understandable. Swatting number seven she got up and went to the car for a flashlight, then went into the woods to gather herbs.

She returned with a double fistful of odds and ends, which she dumped into the simmering water in her kettle. Picking up the stick that she had used to start the fire, she stirred the kettle as she sang a soft song. After a moment the mosquitoes and moths and other insects began to retreat, and finally she was bug-free.

As she sat by the fire she became aware of voices coming from a few sites over. The voices were happy but loud, and obviously the beer had been flowing a bit too freely. No matter, she thought, that will just make them sleep that much more soundly.

Of course, it didn’t.

It was after eleven now, and the drunks were getting louder. There were shrieks of womens’ laughter, and the sounds of guys trying to top each others’ stories, with each story being told at a greater volume than the preceding one. One of the men let out a rebel yell, and Grizelda made a decision.

She scooped out some of the brew from her kettle with a cup and put it in a smaller pot until about half of the brew was left, then carried the pot along the roadway to the loud campsite. By this time people from surrounding campsites had begun to yell at the drunks to shut up, which prompted them to bellow out insults into the night. She spoke an incantation to make herself invisible, then gathered some hay fern and added it to her brew. In went some birch bark and some raspberry brambles, and finally half a beer from a can sitting next to a passed out man. She selected a pot from the pile by one of the tents and poured the brew into it, then carried it to the fire and put it on the edge of the embers next to the blaze while the others were still yelling into the woods. She muttered a quick incantation over the pot and withdrew, then stood back at the edge of the campsite.

The stuff in the pot began to boil, and as it did it gave off a rather strong scent. Almost immediately insects from all over the campsite began to swarm around the fire, and the drunks found themselves being chewed alive by mosquitoes, fleas and any other insect that heeded the call. She heard them all curse as they thrashed to swat at the cloud of bugs, then they all retreated to their tents. She heard more obscenities from within as the bugs that had ridden in on clothing made themselves known, but after a few minutes they began to settle down. By the time she returned to her own site, there was only an occasional mutter from the tents.

Satisfied, she went to her own bed.

*******

The following morning dawned bright and clear, with lots of birdsong. Grizelda awoke and gathered a few toiletries and headed for the bathrooms. As she passed by the campsite where the loud party had been the night before she noticed a lot of moths and beetles still clinging to the tents, and smiled. Then the smile turned into a grin, and she sang a soft song into the woods.

In answer to her song the birds began to gather around the site, and in a matter of minutes there were chattering birds everywhere catching insects. Three woodpeckers found a bonanza in the trees around the tents, and the woods rang with their drumming. From within the tents came groans and curses.

She showered, humming happily to herself as she did so. As she walked back she passed by the site again, and saw three men standing outside of the tents, their eyes swollen and bloodshot and every exposed bit of skin red with bug bites. She couldn’t resist. “Morning! Isn’t it a beautiful day?”

No one said anything, but one of the men shook a few beetles out of a discarded shirt before putting it on. She thought she heard someone else being sick behind a tree.

She dressed in her tent, then got out some bacon and eggs from the cooler. She fried the bacon first, and while it was sizzling in the skillet she used a fork to fold two eggs. She took the bacon out and set it on a plate, swirled the bacon fat around the skillet and poured in her eggs. She got out a block of cheese and sliced some of it and carefully laid it on the eggs, then broke the bacon up and laid that on top of the cheese. She covered it and let it cook while she rinsed out her kettle, then put a couple of inches of water in it with a handful of tea and herbs. She put it on to boil as she removed the skillet, and carefully slid the eggs out of it and folded it over into an omelet on the plate. She put in more bacon to cook, then laid two slices of bread in as well for toast.

She finished up her omelet and toast just as the bacon was getting done, and sat sipping her tea. The bacon was just short of being crispy, just as she liked it, so when she was done with breakfast she was in a very cheerful mood. She gave the dishes a good rinse and scrubbed them with a little soap before putting them in the rack to dry, poured more tea into her mug and looked around the campsite for a moment. All looked to be in good order… oh, wait, can’t leave a fire unattended. She muttered and waved her hand, and the fire smoldered and went out.

The trail to the lake was wide and easy to follow, and she hummed to herself as she walked onto the dock. She found a teenage girl sitting on the dock already with a small easel and paints. The girl glanced up at her and returned the smile before going back to her painting.

Grizelda looked over the girl’s shoulder. She had managed to capture the little spit of land with its larch tree at the end and the blueberry bushes along the shore quite nicely, and was working on the water ripples. “Very nice.”

“Thanks. I was kinda hoping to catch the heron standing there again. He was there for an hour yesterday morning.”

“There are herons here?”

“Yup. I think they live in the swamp down at that end of the lake.” The girl gestured toward a distant bog.

Grizelda looked thoughtfully at the swamp for a moment, then whispered an incantation. She sat on a bench on the other edge of the dock, leaving the girl to her painting.

A couple of minutes later the girl gasped and whispered, “There he is!”

Grizelda smiled as the enormous bird swooped in behind the spit, then began its slow and stately march along the shore. It took up a position at the end, and the girl hurriedly began mixing paints.

She finished her tea and left the dock quietly, so as not to disturb the girl or the bird.

*******

Grizelda walked through the little town in the mid-afternoon sun, window shopping. It had been some time since she had last had the opportunity to wander aimlessly through a town and poke through the stores, and she found it to be quite amusing.

She rounded a corner and stopped in surprise. In front of her was a smallish shop with pentacles hanging in the window, advertisements for tarot readings and a display of polished stones. She was rather nonplussed at this, as she thought that she knew almost all of the witch stores in the state. She went in through the door, which chimed lightly.

The store smelled heavily of patchouli incense. All around her were odds and ends from a half dozen religions, from carvings of dragons to buddhas to pentacles in all sizes. A shelf held acrylic skulls and little Mexican statues painted to look like skeletons, as well as statues of fairies with exaggerated figures in fetish wear. The bookshelves held works by people with names like Crystalclaw Ravenmoon, Posters by Frazetta and Olivia gazed down somberly at her.

A woman in long, flowing shawls stepped out from a back room. “May I help you?” she asked in an ethereal voice.

“Umm, possibly. I was looking to get some wolfsbane and maybe some hemlock.”

“Oh, we don’t carry wolfsbane. But hemlock is right here.” She took down a packet of dry needles.

Grizelda looked dubiously at it. “I’m not so sure that’s hemlock.”

“Yes it is, I harvested it myself. There are some beautiful hemlocks down by the lake.”

“That wasn’t the kind that I was after.” Grizelda looked more closely at the woman. “How long have you been a witch?”

“For the past fifteen years,” the woman declared proudly. “I’ve dedicated my life to learning all about magic and energies.”

“I see. And who did you study with?”

“I haven’t. I’m a solitary, just like Scott Cunningham.”

Grizelda twitched slightly. “So you don’t know Zora or Demalda?”

“No, who are they?”

“The head witches in the area. The leaders of the Order for this state.”

The woman looked confused. “What Order? I haven’t ever heard of it.”

“Never mind. I take it that you selected all of these books?”

“Oh yes! I have most of them in my own library. I consult them all the time!”

“Good, then perhaps you can tell me what herbs I can use in place of jimson. I had heard that a diluted mixture of hemlock and foxglove will help with flying spells, but since I can’t get herbal hemlock or jimson or wolfsbane, I’m at something of a loss. The only thing I can find is digitalis, and that alone is not enough. Also, I’m trying to make a bane to work on some obnoxious neighbors- nothing big, just a minor jinx.”

“A… a jinx?” the woman stammered. “You mean like a curse?”

“Not quite that strong, but basically yes.”

“But… you never put out anything negative because of the Law of Threefold Return!”

Grizelda snorted. “Piffle. There’s balance to the world, remember? No light without darkness. Do you seriously believe that nothing you sell here has unpleasant
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 17:04, Reply)

tl;dr

( mike woz ere 7442200 & 7696970 getter, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 19:19, Reply)

cont'd
unpleasant properties as well as all the helpful and healing ones that these fluffy writers talk about?”

The woman flushed. “I don’t deal in dark magic! None of my wares have negative energies to them!”

“Oh? I beg to differ. Take this piece of sandstone over here, for instance…”

*******

Grizelda got in her car and drove out of town, and sighed as she did so. Nothing worse than people pretending to be witches, especially adults who should know better. She hoped that at least the dress and shawls were all washable.

It had been a fun week, but she was just as happy to be going home in the morning, really. While she didn’t really mind teaching people, being the one to teach manners and fight ignorance all the time was getting a bit tiresome. At least in Karen’s store she usually got people with intelligent questions and a modicum of consideration.

When she got home Isabella followed her all through the apartment like a little black shadow and wouldn’t leave her alone until she sat down for a bit to snuggle. She fuzzed up the pointy little ears and kissed the top of her head. “So you’re glad to see me, huh? Well, I’m glad to be back. You know, I remember now why it is that I don’t like to go alone on holiday. Maybe next time I’ll take you along so I’ll have someone intelligent to talk to.”

Isabella purred and nuzzled her nose.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 17:08, Reply)

Dammit.
Apparently we have a limit on how many characters we can post. How long has that been there?
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 17:09, Reply)

Bloody hell!
You can talk and then some, can't you, Loony?! :O)
(The Stig, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 18:00, Reply)

That I can.
The problem is I don't remember which ones I've posted before. Might get some pearoasts at this rate...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 18:11, Reply)

That's a great start
Huge potential in this piece, huge.

I'm not sure how much feedback you'd like - if any at all!

But I think you should keep going with this.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 18:25, Reply)

Really?
I showed it to my mom and my sister and they didn't like it at all. I back-burnered it as a result.

Yes, any feedback is not only welcome, but requested!
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 18:27, Reply)

Okay...
First of all two things...

You're a great storyteller - that's evident in the plot and the pace that you've got here.
We also know that you have a fantastic skill for description of specific details (I'm particularly thinking of the Spoilt Brat story - Fall and all that).

But...you don't always use the two - the first sections of the story (before she meets the young boy) would really benefit from greater exposition - more specific detail, show us her world.

Avoid using any generalisations and abstract words - 'she found it quite amusing', 'she stopped in surprise' that sort of thing - it's telling us what's happening and not showing us. Tell us how she maybe stops and takes in each detail of the shop front or perhaps her breathing becomes a little shallow because she's excited and surprised.

So show don't tell.

As a general tip cut out every single adverb (all the -ly words) - happily, sadly, that sort of thing - it's too non-specific.

Give us small details - as a writer that's the thing that you notice - the small detail - like how the sun glints off the small golden hairs on her arm...that sort of stuff which you do so well!

A bit more stuff in her head would probably give her a bit more roundedness - at the moment she's a fairly flat character although she does gain depth as the story goes on.

Decide what your story is about - not the plot, but the themes that it's dealing with. Then go back and decide if all the bits of plot are necessary.

Cut out everything that is unnecessary - if it doesn't tell us about the characters or the plot then it shouldn't be there. That doesn't mean you can cut out beautiful descriptions - providing they're telling us something more and not just being decoration.

The same is true of dialogue - it should always be doing at least two or three things - informing us of the character speaking (giving away his or her real thoughts and feelings), furthering the plot, telling us about other characters (which in turn will also tell us about the person speaking again).

I'd also think about making her magical skills a little more sophisticated - but that's an entirely personal take on the story - if I was writing it I'd want to be more subtle.

You've got a fair amount of stuff here that you've written and it could easily form the basis of a long short story which is anything up to about 20,000 words. You might even feel that this has 'legs' enough to go the distance with a novel - depends really how you feel about it as you'd have to live with it for a while.

Anyway, I hope that's been of some help...give it a rewrite and see how you feel about it.

And of course feel free to gaz me if you want some suggestions about what to do with it next.....
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 18:51, Reply)

Thanks!
This is essentially a first draft- I blew through it in about two hours, spent a half hour correcting mistakes and left it at that. I haven't done anything with it since.

Maybe tonight I'll give it a serious look, though...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 14 Oct 2008, 18:56, Reply)

I guessed as much
The first couple of sections are in a hurry to just get all the facts down and only once onto the campsite does it slow down and become much richer.

It's brave of you to post up a first draft - I rarely let anyone even see them! Mind you these days I'm not letting anyone see my second or third drafts either....

Good luck!
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Tue 14 Oct 2008, 19:03, Reply)

Hi TRL

First, I agree with Chickenlady: this was a really readable, atmospheric, well-written piece and Griselda (surely not named from the amazing Monkees song??) is a character with plenty of mileage in her. I also agree that this piece just opens the curtains - it could really go somewhere if you wanted it too. I too really love your descriptive passages - your pieces always give me a very rich mental picture and the smells of the outdoors...I can imagine a guy like TRL entering the picture at any moment in rough work boots a plaid shirt, tousled hair and work-hardened hands. Perhaps that's just because I can almost hear your voice narrating, as if you were sitting on a rock nearby watching things unfold.

Secondly, I can vouch for Chickenlady's 100% positive criticism and guidance (note lack of adverbs above!). I've learnt to re-read my own stuff with a much deeper understanding - hence I've not posted a lengthy piece for some time but am working on stuff off-line.

Anyway, as they say: anything you write is good practice, keep 'em coming and that was a really nice way to start the working day.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 9:23, Reply)

Again, thanks!
I haven't done much with it yet, but it will be next in line for me to work with...

I sketched out this story one night when I was contemplating a lot of things that had been annoying me- jet skis, people doing rebel yells in the woods, chavs at the beach, fluffbunny "spiritual" girls with the bunnies and unicorns, and so on. I had been in a New Age shop and chatted with the woman behind the counter regarding the crystals and stuff she sold (which was the inspiration for the scene toward the end) and joked about finding the crystals that cause baldness, impotence and flatulence to balance out the ones she sold, and she got highly offended. I realized in that moment that she had no concept of balance, that for every bit of good there has to be an equal bit of bad. And that started me on a rant, which resulted in me writing this.

Grizelda is basically me in a female form. (I don't recall where I got the name from- very likely that Monkees song, actually.) I thought, "What if I were an actual witch and went into this fluffbunny store? How would I react to these poseurs?" And then I ran with it. I contemplated how much fun it would be to right the wrongs of the world with subtle little things like infesting chavs with bugs or bringing wildlife into an area where someone who would appreciate it was sitting.

I think I might take it and run further with it...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 15 Oct 2008, 14:16, Reply)

Hey TRL
I'm afraid I can be no help what so ever as I have bugger all talent for creative writing but I do read a lot. I thoroughly enjoyed it and think it's certainly an intriguing character which I'd be happy to learn more about.

I really like your writing style though and can easily immerse myself in the environments you create.

Anyway thought I would stick my oar in then. Keep up the good work!
(Holy Cremola Foam Batman will be back on, Wed 15 Oct 2008, 16:05, Reply)