Writing Fantasy - G L Hooks- Writer of fiction

Awe-Inspiring Fantasy: Is the Forest Alive?

Discovering the Alien in Front of Us

I write fantasy right. A few years ago an article started me thinking about trees and forests, and how they communicate. Their social interaction became a fascinating subject as I dug into it. Ideas popped and I wrote a short story to help remember the premise and where it would possibly lead. A have recently picked it back up, adding a few scenes and expanding on the idea. This is an excerpt from the work-in-progress.

A Piece of ‘The Forest’

The creature appeared as it always did, different every time, but with the same deep, dark eyes. This time it was a squirrel, larger than normal squirrels and shiny black. It sat on a fallen tree, waiting for him to notice. When Clay made eye contact, it scampered along the trunk of the fallen tree toward the exposed root. He raked his hair out of his eyes as his short frame labored over the tree trunk, sweat running down his back. He saw a faint trail running slightly uphill. Nothing looked familiar, but that was normal in this forest as everything changed depending on how you entered and what you were seeking. Luckily, the forest, for a short time, would allow him to seek El without knowing his cousin’s reasons for breaking his word.

A shiny black flash, maybe a tail, told him he was moving in the right direction. The glimpses of the mountain to the north became fewer as the canopy closed, darkening everything and cooling him off.

The forest was older than the mountains it had overgrown. It started eons ago by surrounding the bases of the ancient range, and had slowly consumed each peak as it was worn by time. The trail ran along a small ridge paralleling a little stream.

He heard rustling in the brush close to the water as a stag raised his head, tilting it slightly, seeming puzzled by the sight of a pudgy little human in his forest. A breeze rattling through the upper branches never touched the forest floor, but joined the soft sound of water over rocks and provided a kind of background white noise.

Clay stopped at a fork in the trail, catching his breath, unsure which way to go. He heard a chittering down the fork leading across the stream, but he waited to see the squirrel. The forest could be fickle with its permission and caution was usually rewarded, just as recklessness was punished. A moment later a rustling of maple leaves as the black squirrel dropped from the upper parts of a tree to appear on the ridge trail. Forest twilight thickened as more and more light was choked off by the canopy above.

He heard the low hum a few minutes before he found the clearing. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the dull, black obelisk was there, standing in the center of a circular depression. Lavender and grasses surrounded it, rustling in the light breeze. The sun’s warmth felt good after the cool of the forest. The scented meadow, full of wildflowers and busy insects, was pleasant as he crossed to stand beside El.

Clay handed El a shirt and removed his jacket, trying to forestall the sweat down his back. They stood for a moment, looking at the light-absorbing, black shard stabbed into a white slab. The two eye level glyphs were etched in bright red, as always, and Clay was sure there were two more on each of the other two sides. The cleansing hum never got any louder, just seemed to penetrate deeper the closer you came. Two mallets lay on the white slab beside the obelisk.

A Work in Progress

It is tough to let go of a story, to stop the inner judge and leave it (which is why writers have editors). Every time I read something I wrote, I think it would be better if I said this here or deleted part of this. Constantly seeing from a different set of eyes, each of us change from moment to moment. The new me sees things the past me missed, and loses the perspective the me of the past had so in focus.

What was I thinking? This excerpt is a glimpse into the past me, and will evovle into a book, with the future me, my editor, and time.

The New Work-a-Day World

Worldwide Worker Leverage

Photo by Nubia Navarro (nubikini) on Pexels.com

If the pandemic did anything, it showed the world who the essential workers truly are. Now the haves are forced to push back against the should haves. It’s not, as the ones who control the purse strings say, that folks don’t want to work, it’s that they don’t want to work for peanuts anymore. Especially after they watched the haves remain safely sheltered in place. The essential minimum wagers and the underappreciated were economically forced to brave the ravages of the pandemic world, and didn’t have the option of staying at home.

There are millions of folks who realized their worth (that our economy doesn’t run without them). They are beginning to understand their power. The cry goes up by employers, we can’t find anyone to work, and that cry should finish with, for what we used to pay. Now the ones, who for decades paid a pittance for great worth, are trying desparately to put the value genie back in the bottle.

Part-time becomes full-time as the employer needs more. Competent, well-mannered individuals have become rare in a pandemic ridden world, and their value remains woefully unappreciated by those so used to receiving the lion’s share with so little effort. For many decades, the wealthy few have allowed the pay of those that labor to fall behind.

The Giants Wake Up

The irony is those who have supported this world economy with their sweat and hard work are, in most cases, self-motivated to do a good job. That social need of individuals to feel included and valued takes over. Combine this with the desire to do good work, and a corporation can take advantage of these human needs. This is a corporate tendency, to undervalue and not worry about the pay for essential employees. There is no concern with whether wages keep pace with an employees cost of living. Unfortunately, the workforce understands the bare minimum isn’t covering the risk any more.

But now the sleeping giants have awakened to their worth. Employees realize that Jack, the wealthy sneak thief, has stolen their golden goose. The problem for the giants is the wealthy have already created a world that works for them. They operate behind the curtain, snatching most of the value. They have many ways of getting the giants to forget, or fight among themselves. Getting them to believe the lies, one day you’ll be one of us, or that giant is different and bad, or don’t let the needy take what you have.

We are like the flock of sheep, scared by the threat of the wolf all their lives, just to be eaten by the shepherd. All of us need to realize whose enjoying the benefits of our golden goose. Hint, its not the neighbor who needs help to make ends meet. It’s not even the wolf they use to scare us into spending more on our defense, at home and abroad. Look behind the curtain to the corporate welfare that supports our rickety system. Look to the billions, generated by our work, to be passed back and forth between the few.

Wake Up- Be Thankful for Alarms

I started a new job this week, having experienced a scare. A couple of weeks ago, my roof started leaking and my car needed surprise repairs. I realized my pool of funds could fast become a puddle and something had to happen. This wake up call came like an alarm erupting in the middle of a wonderful dream, grating and unignorable.

I look back on all the time I had to write, avoiding reality by burying myself in the next paragraph. What a gift that time was and how unappreciated. It’s truly amazing how you can’t see your blessings when you’re in the middle of them. I took my time so for granted, working steadily toward getting a book published. Accomplishing that didn’t put me on easy street, or even give me an income, other than sporatic sales, but I proved to myself it was doable.

I did meet my goal of publishing a book, and I continue to write. Thanks to those productive years, I am awaiting coverart for my next ready-to-publish book. It is a middle grade fantasy, The Collector’s Apprentice. I’m spending my free time working on The Last Straw (a fantasy involving pixies) and editing A Source of Dragons (a YA epic fantasy). I also have the first draft of the second book in my Hub World (a dark fantasy) series.

So, I’m staying busy or, as some writers know, avoiding the things I dread. Looming over me is the tedious work of marketing and social media promotion that is essential to self-publishing, if you hope to break through. Some love that part of it, but I huddle over my computer, writing to escape the need to toot my own horn (and housework). Avoidance, of first this and then that, is truly why I have written so much.

Now that my time isn’t all my own, I am striving to be grateful for what time I do have. I count myself lucky to avoid reality through my writing. This is a habit that will serve me very well, even if my writing remains a hobby. Gratitude for laundry is next on my list of thankful challenges.