Robed in Fantasy on Etsy

Did you know I'm a garber, a costumer? I love to sew and have been since I was in the 8th grade, when a neighbor taught me to sew in exchange for hanging out with her niece for the summer. We were friends for years and hung out whenever she came to town. 

One nice thing about sewing is whenever I write myself into a corner or get stuck on a scene, I just move the office chair over to the sewing machine and make something. It's creative and often my mind works out the problem while the fabric is transformed into a garment. Then I'm ready to jump back into writing. It's a back and forth thing sometimes but works for me.

I sometimes sew commission costumes. Most recently was the 4 piece suit for the Beast character from The Beauty and the Beast movie. It was so much fun. Here's a photo:

Now, I do sell costuming at events and online through Etsy. If you're interested, my shop is called Robed in Fantasy. This is a pirate poet shirt I listed this morning. https://www.etsy.com/listing/568438391/3xl-burgundy-pirate-renaissance-shirt

Let me know what you think and leave me a comment below if there is something you do that's creative. I believe there are many more of us out there than visible on the surface.

Are You a Writing Spider?

A Topic Chat with Kim Richards Gilchrist (That's me!)

Writing spiders are real creatures who spin their webs in zig zag patterns, resembling writing. Wednesday, we are discussing the similarities of this non-poisonous arachnid to  being an author.

___

The web of the yellow garden spider is distinctive: a circular shape up to 2 feet (60 cm) in diameter, with a dense zigzag of silk, known as a stabilimentum, in the center.

To construct the web, several radial lines are stretched among four or five anchor points that can be more than three feet apart. The radial lines meet at a central point. The spider makes a frame with several more radial lines and then fills the center.

Join Kim tonight for a comparison of human acts of structuring and plotting our short stories and novels and the behavior of the Writer Spider as she spins her zig zag web.

5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. Pacific Time at www.writerschatroom.com  No password is needed; just sign in as a guest.

A Quick Poem for You to Enjoy

Here's a little poem I write for the August Ladies of Horror writing challenge. I struggled a bit with this one but it was fun anyway.

https://ninadarc.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/ladies-of-horror-flash-project-horror-author-kim-richards-kim_richards-sotet_angyal-loh-fiction-2/

Writer's Chatroom

Hey all!
Welcome back to my blog. I'm pleased as punch that I'm, again, moderating over at Writer's Chatroom. It's been a few years since I volunteered there and have to admit I missed doing it.

This is a great resource to bring your writing questions and to learn about the business and craft of writing. Our regulars and moderators are of varying skill levels and genres. Even an old pro can contribute or learn something new. The other nice bit is just talking live with others who do what we do. We all experience the isolation writing can bring and chatting twice a week is the answer.

Come on by. We meet Wednesday and Sunday evenings. Click on that link above to find out the times and upcoming topics.

I did it! I made this year's NANOWRIMO goal!

It's been one rough weekend in the non-writing life area. I wasn't certain I'd be able to sit down long enough to finish the 50,000 word goal--especially after having to take a family member to the emergency room. Many writers claim how writing can be therapy. I'm here to say this is proof. I was stressed, exhausted, and worried but when I made myself open up the file, I was able to finish and then sleep well. Okay, so I did take my sleep aid but that's okay.

I like to dangle a carrot for myself to finish challenges like this. This year's is the new Enya album. I can't buy it until the 6th but who cares?  I made it!

Day 28 of NANOWRIMO!

Today was a hard day to get writing done. I managed 2,079 though. I'd love to do more but am so very tired. If I can do that many, or close to it, the next two days then I'll make the goal!

I worked on flashback scenes this time. There are only two and they take place one after the other in the story. I don't care much for flashbacks but they are needed to show a character things that happened in her ancestor's past and their effect on the present.

Here's the excerpt:

Obasi came to with a low moan but had no idea how long he lay unaware on the ground. It was painful to move but he turned onto his side and realized the reed mat beneath him was soaked in his blood. He probed his shoulder wound with the fingers of his right hand and winced. It was crusted a little so he knew to pack it with grasses to staunch any further bleeding. There were plenty only a few feet away and so he half dragged, half crawled over to them. The back of his head ached too, likely from impacting the ground when he fell at the last.

 He further realized it was quiet…too quiet. He heard no sounds of hooves or shouting or clashing of weapons. Even the insects were silent.

Where are the men? What happened to the villagers?

He frowned when he saw the billows of white and grey smoke rising from the village. He feared for his tribal family.

There were many scuff marks on the ground to indicate the battle was fierce. Blood, sweat, and smoke still clung to the air so he decided he wasn’t out for very long. Continuing to shove the grasses against his wound, he noticed something dark in the bushes just beyond reach. He concentrated his focus and realized he it was a man’s foot sticking out from beneath.

Crawling closer, he was able to trace the foot to a leg and then a thigh. There he paused because he recognized the scarification sigil on that thigh. It belonged to one of the drummers who fled the scene when the conquistador shot his pistol.

Obasi gathered his inner strength and said a prayer for help as he grasped the leg and pulled. It was indeed attached to the rest of the poor man’s body but was too heavy and at the wrong angle for the priest to pull him free of the foliage.

He wormed his way beneath the branches to get closer. One look at the man’s ruined face made him stop. There was no way any mortal could survive that kind of damage. Bone and cartilage reflected the fading sunlight; there were a handful of teeth scattered to one side like kernels of discarded corn.

Day 23 of NANOWRIMO. 40,000 words surpassed! Excerpt included.

It was a good writing day. I split it up again so maybe that's a better plan for me. I'm concerned there isn't enough action lately so hope to focus on a few of those scenes next. Yeah, I know there will be revision time later but you know writers...always looking for what's needed to make the story flow and be interesting.

My daily count came in at 3,011 which gives me a running total of 40,028. I'm excited. Grin.

Here is today's excerpt:

Amara interrupted, “There are some situations which cannot be fixed and some wounds which cannot or should not be healed. In cases of physical abuse like this, the children’s lives are at risk.”

“That’s one beautiful thing about God. No one is above redemption. Anyone, who truly wishes it, can be redeemed. It doesn’t matter the depth of their depravity, or their sins. The key is for them to see and understand their wrongs and truly repent of them.”

“That would require never doing it again. I can’t risk that on any child’s life.” Amara straightened her back. “Please forgive my bluntness but this is not the time for sermons. Praying for them won’t fix anything.”

“Ah, but there you are incorrect,” the priest said, punctuating his point by jabbing his right index finger on the desktop. “As I mentioned before, the blessings of her sister brought Abeni discomfort. The demon could no longer hide itself. Prayer may be the only way to save her.”

Just then Amara remembered something:  shortly after Kalika started praying the family blessing, she silently prayed a similar blessing prayer from her ancestors. Suddenly she wondered how far back that prayer actually came from. She knew her family history went back to a tobacco plantation in Virginia. They were slaves captured originally in…Africa.

Day 19 of NANORIMO Less than 20,000 words to go! Also, today's excerpt.

The count for today is 1,842 words, which puts the total so far this month at 30,976. I did finish reading Interview with an Exorcist and posted a review on Goodreads before writing for today.

Here's the excerpt from today's writing:

“I believe a curse as a real thing is entirely possible. It’s not as direct as modern people may think where a person suddenly grows old or thin. However, a demonic presence can be directed to focus on a person, or a family in this case. We’ll find some of this out in the determination interview. Signs of a real obsession or possession will include elements we all can see.”

“Would you elaborate?” Amara asked.

“Certainly. If the demon is present, we should be able to force it to reveal itself. Physical attributes such as abnormal strength for a child, eyes rolling back in her head, speaking foreign or dead languages, causing objects to levitate,” Quinn explained.

“That sounds like Hoodoo or some kind of stage illusion.”

“That is something we will discover along the way. It can be very real or some great elaborate hoax.”

“Well, thank you for your time. I appreciate your candor and consideration. I will see you at the interview tomorrow then.”

Amara stood and held out her right hand to shake Father Quinn’s hand.

He accepted it but held on for a moment to gain her full attention. “Miss Byrd. You and I will help these children…one way or another.”

Today's Day 9 of NANOWRIMO 2015. Word count report and excerpt

I managed to get in 2,480 words today so feel pretty good about it. The total's up to 13,260 now.
This session was a bit about the three children in my story and experiences they have in a temporary foster home.  Here's today's excerpt:

For the third day in a row Kalika woke with Taiwo curled up in a tight ball next to her stomach. The sky outside the window was dark. She wondered what time it was. Her brother always went to bed earlier than the others because he was small. Abeni liked to tuck him in and sing bedtime lullabies to him so the oldest sister knew he fell asleep in his own bunk.

Sometime during the night he must wake and climb in bed with her. This morning his feet were chilled and he had them tucked between her knees. She decided that must be what woke her. They felt like little icicles against her warm skin. She put her arm over him and he pulled it tighter against him. That’s when she realized he was shivering and awake.

“Are you cold?” she asked in a whispered voice.

“Yeah,” came his reply. His voice quivered.

“Here.” She pulled the comforter and blanket on the bed over his small body and rubbed his arm with her hand. “Better?”

“Uh, huh.”

Looking across him at the bunk bed, she noticed there were no blankets or even a sheet on the lower bunk he used as his bed.

“What happened to your covers?” Kalika asked.

“Abeni stole them,” he whispered and shivered again.

Kalika glanced up and indeed saw Abeni sound asleep on the top bunk beneath her bedding. She had her back to the room, facing the wall. Wadded up at her feet were the sheets, blanket, and comforter that belonged on Taiwo’s bed.

“What did she do that for?” she asked.

She moved to sit up and Taiwo stopped her.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “She will hit me if she wakes up again.” His body shivered once more.

NANOWRIMO Day 7 and today's excerpt

Yesterday was a total loss because I ran around and wore myself out doing chores. Today I tried to make up for it and finished with 3,411 words for the day. That brings my total so far to 10,780. I guess that makes me one fifth of the way to the goal. Grin.

Here's today's excerpt. It deals with the mother during an interview:

“Did you have the scarification marking before your marriage to Pumbaa?”

“Yes and no,” Yemaya said. At Amara’s surprised expression, she continued, “I suppose I should explain. I did not have a need for it until we were married. As I became a member of the family, I became included in the Bankole curse. Therefore, we included the marking ritual at the beginning of our wedding ceremony.”

“Wow, that must be unique,” Amara commented with a smile.

“Unique is a good word to describe the Bankole family. I am proud to be included among them. I will also add that I was never forced to do this or coerced by anyone. I chose freely. Besides, where I lived as a child, such markings are common and considered beautiful—particularly among women.”

She lifted the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a well-healed scar shaped like a gazelle on her right biceps. “See? This is one I had done on my fourteenth birthday. It only stings for a couple of days but looks pretty for the rest of your life.”

“Please forgive me if I get too personal next. I want to ask about how you are doing. I know the stress of your children living with others has caused you to suffer.”

“Yes, it has. That is why I was enrolled in the hospital. The doctors there are helping me to work through the darkness on my heart.”

Yemaya leaned closer and whispered, “I tell you truthfully—no healer, no medication, nothing will help me until Taiwo and Abeni are protected. She has a marking but it is not complete.”

Day Five NANOWRIMO Word Count and Excerpt

Okay, so I blew off day four. I was just plain tired. I did do some reading. Today is day five and I just logged in 1,638 words for the day. It's a few short of the daily goal but that's okay. It was a natural place for the scene to end.

Today's scene involves the father of the family. He's in jail, pending court time and gets visited by a demon.

The other oddity was that other sounds of the prison were silenced. That could mean only one thing. It was a demon speaking to him in his mind and not showing it’s physical form. This was good because it also meant none of the guards were possessed.  Yet, Pumbaa made himself add.

He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh before speaking in a low voice. He knew not to answer back through his mind. To do so would open a window for the demon to cause havoc. Pumbaa went through his marking protection at the proper young age as was expected of him. However, a person could circumvent the protection by inviting the demonic in. Possession wasn’t possible because of his scarification; torment could still be a problem.

“Who speaks?” he asked.

“We have met before,” the voice said, sounding disappointed and hollow.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Tell me your name so that I may know,” Pumbaa said.

The demon laughed. “Why would I give you power over me? I think not.”

“Then leave me. I have no desire to converse with you.”

“If you wish. I will simply pose my question to your wife…or Abeni when I see her.”

“You leave my daughter alone. She is not your doll.” Pumbaa stood as he restrained his voice from rising with his anger. He glanced back over his shoulder at his cell mates to ensure his voice hadn’t disturbed them. Neither had moved so he turned away.

“Ah, so you will speak with me then.”

Day 3 NANOWRIMO Word Count and Excerpt

Today I wrote 2,049 words which gives a total so far of 5731 words in the 2015 NANOWRIMO challenge for Scarification. Today was an interview with a character on why he decided never to have children.

Here's an excerpt:

“Have you actually seen this curse in action?” Amara asked.

“Seen it? I have felt it; as has every member of my family. When the demon comes for you, you see it, feel its fetid breath on your neck, hear its taunting and cursing in your ear. It looks you in the eye with it’s glowing red pupils and sees into your soul. It knows your sins and tells them to you in great detail. It laughs at your shame and wallows in your regret. Then it looks over your body.”

“Why does it do that?”

“It searches for the way inside. A cut, a scrape—a way into your blood; if it finds none, then it moves to your mouth or nose where it enters through your saliva or other secretions.”

Amara leaned forward. “I don’t understand then. Why would creating a wound be a part of protection from this ‘demon’? Wouldn’t that just be an invitation to come in?”

A  sly look crossed Diambu’s face. “Yes, the burning or cutting draws the demon to the mark. When it approaches the symbol, it recognizes the ash beneath the skin and knows it cannot inhabit this body. It will rant and wail, sometimes throwing objects but it will leave eventually. It has to or be destroyed. It came for me on my tenth birthday. Every member of my family will tell you the same thing happened to them.”

NANOWRIMO Day 2 Word Count and Excerpt

Woot! I did 2,004 words today, giving me a total of 3,682 words so far. It was a struggle to get started at first. I got caught up in researching and questioning some story elements. However, eventually two characters got into an argument and Boom!  I was at the goal for the day.

Here's today's excerpt:
Amara Byrd sat in a courtroom council with the Juvenile Dependency Court Judge, Javier Montiz along with the lawyer for the Bankole family. The room was uncomfortably warm so she removed the jacket of her imitation silk suit and skirt and took a sip from the glass of water on the table where she sat. She wished she had on short sleeves but felt a long sleeved blouse and jacket gave a more professional appearance. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight, severe bun and her make-up conservative today.

The purpose of today’s meeting was to determine what constitutes undue influence by the Yoruban religion and which elements of their rituals are allowable due to religious freedom. It looked to be a long, hard fight and an equally long, hard day.

Ezra Goldwaithe pushed his wire-rimmed glasses higher on the bridge of his pointed nose. Amara could see the fingerprints on the lenses from where she sat to his left. He tapped his pen on his table and shuffled file folders in an effort to be overdramatic.

Amara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Even though he was twice her age, she wasn’t about to let this man intimidate her. He might have years of experience behind him but she had passion and a unique understanding of the situation at hand on her side.

She heard from colleagues how Goldwaithe could be misogynic at times. She actually hoped he would be condescending to her because it would weaken his position. Old men like him needed to get with the times. An outdated attitude could work against him, particularly with regards to a young family such as this. She also doubted he understood the subtleties of their African religion and counted on him playing the ‘religious freedom’ card.

Amara flashed him a Barbie doll smile.

NANOWRIMO Day 1 word count and excerpt

I made it to 1,678 words today. Talk about barely meeting the minimum daily quota of 1,667. I wanted to make 2,000 but the scene ended naturally and I didn't want to force it.

Remember these excerpts are unedited and not the complete portion I wrote today. Here's the opening paragraphs:

“Nooo…” the six foot, two inch dark-skinned man howled across the front lawn.

His arms were held back by two uniformed police officers who were both as tall and muscular as he. They slapped the cuffs on him with a metallic snick. The sweat on his forehead glistened in the moonlight and headlights from the police cruiser parked in the driveway.

The flashing lights lit up the house, surrounding fence, and trees on the property. It also illuminated the faces of those curious neighbors who stood huddled in their pajamas on the sidewalk across the street.

“Calm down Mister Bankole,” the first officer said through gritted teeth.

“Let me finish. Let us finish it before it’s too late,” Pumbaa Bankole pleaded in a voice quivering with desperation.

The second officer commented, “Oh, it’s finished all right. You’re not going to hurt those kids anymore.”
The two officers wrestled the struggling man to the waiting cruiser. Inside the back seat sat his wife. Her head down would’ve been held in her hands were they not cuffed behind her back. Tears dripped off her nose and chin, staining her silk dress as they fell.

She openly sobbed and cried out, “My babies. Please! My babies.” At the sight of her husband being shoved onto the seat next to her, she burst out in fresh tears. His eyes locked onto hers, instantly silencing her.

Then one of the officers slammed the cruiser door shut, blocking them from view. He turned to the onlookers, scowled, and said in a southwestern drawl, “Go home. Mind your own ranch. There’s nuthin’ to see here.” He waved them off with his hands for emphasis.

Grumbling among themselves, the neighbors shuffled off to their respective homes. The officers climbed into the front seat of the cruiser and drove off. Their destination:  the local station.

* * * *

Free Seminar on Writing Horror and Dark Fiction

Coffetime Romance Forum: January 13 - 19, 2014

Seminar on Writing Horror and Dark Fiction

For writers of the dark genres: horror, dark fantasy, occult, and science fiction, this seminar contains practical advice on writing horror and dark fiction. Based upon the book, Telling Tales of Terror: Essays on Writing Horror and Dark Fiction, editor Kim Richards will discuss the following topics:

What Scares You.
Beyond Blood, Guts, and Gore.
Suspension of Disbelief.
Occult in your Fiction
Characters and Character Development.
Sex in Horror.
Dialogue.
Point of View.
Accurately Portraying Action and Violence.
Promotion.
Women in Horror.
Setting the Mood.
Creating Monsters.
and more.

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/board/forumdisplay.php?f=2088

Sign up now!