After some thought and bouncing ideas off a couple of folks, I am going to take that last idea and try to flesh into a novella, at the least. I’ve had several other bits that would make it depthier (it is TOO a word!), more fleshed out.
I am excited about it and also nervous. We shall see what we shall see.

It’s a Process, yet again

I have a flash fiction prompt that I’d like to do. I came up with it during a geeky discussion with a friend.
But the idea seems like it could be a bit more than 500 words in a single setting.

I _could_ flash fiction it…but it, to me, seems like it could be a bit more.
Y’all…what are your thoughts?
East Texas pagan tries to recreate Odin’s quest for wisdom – the whole hanging upside down thing.  He’s not stupid – a scholar of history and myths at a nearby state college – but he is a tab obsessed. Also, terribly young. Like in his twenties and invincible sort of young. Cut him some slack…we’ve all been that stupid.
Well…okay, not this stupid.
I hope.

Anywho…. He goes to the middle of nowhere, strips naked. He makes what he believes are the appropriate magical preparations…and then sets up a trap to grab his legs and send him upside down, steps into it ….and waits.
The trap goes off. And he hangs and slowly dies.

But then, he isn’t dead.

He is undead…sort of. He doesn’t look like a zombie but… (more on that in a bit).

He has powers, but it’s limited and flakey.
He loses both eyes and is therefore blind (the Ravens each grab one eye apiece)  but he can See (energy, future, past, etc) He can see the past clearly, but only if he can touch something. He can see energy patterns – the Fae, where lines of power exist, where giant energy things are going to occur (think of it like looking at Wakanada before Thanos arrived – not the same worldspace, but you get where that would be a giant energy signal). Trying to See the future inevitably makes him woozy/nauseated/sick as he does not have the ability (yet, I think) to sort the clanging timelines out.

As a further add on to the suck…that whole undead thing. He must at least once a week eat the flesh of a living being.

So that is the notes on an idea. Like I said, it could be a flash..but it could be fleshed further out.

A Ghost Story of a Different Sort

Writing for pleasure? plot? other things? What, what?

What’s troubling me now is source material.
Oh, wait.

There is too much.

Angelo ducked his head. He didn’t like it when the guards looked too sharp at him. He had been in charge of some of the pequeños. Angelo had done his best, he felt, But, it was never enough. He could feel the guards’ indifference but also? he could feel their potential for violence. He wanted to make sure  the criaturas  were OK.  He slipped a little, moving silently to the next bebé.  Angelo pressed a kiss to the child’s head, glancing sharply at an approaching guard as he did. The guard yawned, looked the other way, and moved down the next row.
Angelo sighed and pressed a kiss to the small brow of  a nearby child. Another averted. Father, he sighed, there are too many.