Her every step through the forest filled the air with ghosts.
And that wraps up flashfictober for this year!
Her every step through the forest filled the air with ghosts.
And that wraps up flashfictober for this year!
Adam and I threw a somewhat last minute Spooky Food Potluck party last weekend. Here’s a bunch of pictures!
Every time she approached the devil’s bridge, her footsteps slowed and she lingered, looking down at her reflection in the flat, still water. She would wait for the space of three breaths, though she wasn’t sure what for.
One day, her reflection was waiting for her.
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.
She placed the berry between her teeth, applying just enough pressure to break the skin, tart juice tingling her tongue. Then she dropped the small red fruit into the bowl. “One for the water.”
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.
I’m always on the look out for better ways to organize my chaotic brain. But because each application or tool is really good at one thing and then medium or bad at everything else, I end up with a vast collection of tools that I barely use while trying to hold all of my workflow stuff in my head.
This works about as well as you would expect.
And though I know exactly how it’s going to end (i.e. poorly), my system consistently devolves into this state. Entropy, man. It’ll get you in the end.
At the beginning of last week, I had once again reached that threshold where this “system” was untenable. I was only paying attention to my day to day agenda without thinking about how each of my tasks impacted my overall trajectory towards long-term goals. Was I moving in the direction that I wanted to go? Was I prioritizing things correctly? Is it possible to know any of those things without writing them down somewhere? Maybe for some people, but definitely not for me.
So I found myself looking at the vast array of tools I already use to track parts of my life—AirTable for submissions, Excel/Sheets for story outlines, Word/Docs for brainstorming, Pocket (prev Evernote) for interesting articles or resources or inspo, Calendar for tracking appointments and life stuff, a bullet journal for day to day agenda items, Trello for workflow, variably Todoist or Keep or Workflowy or scraps of paper for checklists…—and despairing. I mean, the process of listing all of those things out gave me mild palpitations.
The idea of adding something to this list was daunting. The idea of shoving a writing workflow/goals tracker into one of these systems, having it fail because it doesn’t quite fit right, and then winding up back in this exact same position a handful of months down the line… It’s so demoralizing.
You see, I end up at this place because I am very particular. I have an idea of how I want to track things, of what might be useful to my brain, and of how I want to interact with a program. The problem I have is that nothing seems to work quite the way I want it to. It’s a lot to ask for, one organizational system to rule them all.
Kata clutched the heart in her hands, blood oozing warm and thick between her fingers. She wanted to put it back. She would give anything to put it back. But some things were almost impossible to undo. Almost.
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.
“I just want to make sure you really understand what you’re getting,” Mills said, sliding the wooden box onto the table. It looked like a miniature coffin, and he suppressed a shudder.
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.
When she returned to the tree the next day, instead of plums, its branches were laden with gorgeous gold and blush peaches.
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.
Sel looked up at the night sky, where she had been for so long, and where she couldn’t return to. At least, not until she killed the moon.
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.
She touched her fingertip to the metal box and could suddenly see him. A man hunched over a desk, blunt fingers holding a tiny figurine. He dipped the smallest brush into a pot of blue paint.
*Not sure what this is all about? More details about flashfictober here.