Posted in Fiction

Lights of Fantasy (Part II)

Tiny little glass bumps sat scattered everywhere. The lining of the pool was filled with them. Hmm. I wondered what they were. I thrust myself topside and popped my head above the water. Before I could say anything, my mom spoke.

“Lily, don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in a swimsuit?”

“Yeah, but wait, what are all the little round, clear bumps all over the lining down here?” I asked

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You put the pool in, and you don’t know what you had put in? Come here. Feel this,” I said, running my wet hand over the side of the pool.

My mom sauntered over and squatted at the pool’s edge. She reached her hand down and rubbed the lining on the inside of the pool.

“What am I supposed to be feeling?” asked my mom in a grim tone.

“What are you talking about? I told you. There are tiny clear bumps all over the side of the pool,” I said.

“No, sweetie. I didn’t feel anything.” My mom stood and turned toward the house. “Go change into your swimsuit,” she called back over her shoulder.

Ten minutes later I dove back into the pool. Like a bullet I shot from one end to the other along the bottom. As I passed over the clear tiny bumps, colors flowed from them. I stopped midway and watched, but when I stopped, the colors stopped flowing. Hmm. Maybe they respond to body heat. I dove beneath the surface once more and swam my way back to the bottom. When I got there, I passed my hand over the tiny bumps. Nothing happened.

Deciding not to let it bother me, I continued swimming a few more underwater laps. I opened my eyes before surfacing, and a light yellow greeted me. I stopped, floated in place, and blinked a few times. I ran out of breath, surfaced, took in some air, then plunked back beneath again. The yellow light was still there, covering the whole underwater environment.

I surfaced, pushed myself up and out of the pool, and stared back at the water. Clear. The only color from above the water was that of the blue lining squiggling from the movement of the water. I jumped in and sank once more then opened my eyes. Yellow light flowed throughout. I closed my eyes and gave my head a couple quick shakes. Upon opening my eyes, the yellow light remained. Ok, time to get out of the pool.

I swam to the stairs and climbed out. The warmth from the sunny pavement under my bare feet sent a comfortable sensation through me, as I clomped over to my towel. I brushed my towel over my long blond hair with a few vigorous swishes and patted my face then patted the rest of me dry. When I finished, I enclosed the towel around my shoulders and turned toward the house but stopped short.

The feeling of being watched and a slight movement from the corner of my eye along with curiosity turned my head in the direction of the pool. Two small eyes blinked back at me from under the water. There appeared to be no body under them, yet they moved from side to side in the pool.

(To Be Continued)

Posted in Books

July is going to be hot in more ways than one — Mark Piggott | Fantasy and Steampunk Author

Sorry to be AWOL for a while, but its been a busy start to my summer, and its not over yet. I traveled from Virginia to Manchester, Connecticut, for the Book Fiends Readers Festival, June 25. It was a long weekend but I met so many wonderful steampunk writers, artists, crafters and performers. It was […]

July is going to be hot in more ways than one — Mark Piggott | Fantasy and Steampunk Author
Posted in Books

What is Coming

Projects I am currently working on will be coming to completion in the coming months. Please see the list below.

  1. My novel: The Cross’s Key. I plan on this being published in August. However, issues have arisen with our house which may cause some delays (I hope not). But if there are delays, it will be published in September.
  2. My book of poems: Hanging by His Hand. This will be published in September.
  3. My book of short stories: Lights of Fantasy and other Short Stories. This will be published in January 2023.
Posted in Fiction

The Golden Tree (Part II)

“Huh, we should be so lucky,” Ray whispered back.

“Charlie,” said Charlotte. “Why do you want this tree so bad? You know how stupid an idea it is to uproot a tree hundreds of years old and replant it? Seriously now, it would kill it.”

“A clipping would be just as nice,” responded Charlie.

“That won’t work either,” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

Charlie swung to turn and stopped himself, as a leaf hanging from the tree caught his attention. His right foot slid toward the tree, then his left foot followed. He continued with this slide step until he was close enough to grasp onto a leaf. His head tilted to the right as he studied the leaf.

“Should we stop him, Ray?” whispered Charlotte to her husband.

Ray massaged his chin with his thumb and forefinger, “I don’t know if it would do any good. He’s done been pulled right to it. I say let him go. Maybe he’ll come back, maybe he won’t,” Ray whispered back.

The golden leaf sparkled and twinkled in Charlie’s eyes. A yearning dug deep within his heart. He must….. His hand reached up, clasped on to the leaf, then his body from his hand to his feet shot into the leaf in one blink.

Charlotte walked over to the leaf that took Charlie and studied it. A smile played across her face.

“Well? Is he there?” asked Ray.

“Oh yeah. Face and everything.”

(To Be Continued)

Posted in Writing

Metamorphose

Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com

At first your story is what you want it to be. At first. Then, you leave it for a determined amount of time, after which you go back to it. You read through it again, and other ideas begin to churn in your mind. You end up deleting much of the original, adding to it, and/or changing it. This period I like to call the cocoon because it’s not yet ready to see the light of day. How do you know when it will be ready? Well….you’ll know.

My novel The Triunix of Time started out as a romance under a different title. Talk about change. The beginnings of it and my notes and jottings in my journal were nothing that ended up in the final draft (I still saved it all. See my post entitled Old Writings.). How did this change come about? I talked to a college professor of mine who gave me some suggestions having to do with magic. This turned me on to the fantasy genre. I started thinking of all the possibilities that could come from writing in that genre, and the ideas were endless. I could still put some romance in it, but that ultimately took a back seat.

Over all, our minds are the main focus of that change. We collect information from the outside, bring it inside, work with it by molding it and let it take shape. Then our creation appears for everyone to see and take part in.

Posted in Writing

The Writer’s Mark

Whether you know it or not, you leave tracks of yourself in places. No, I don’t mean visible tracks. Although, I bet that’s what many of you were thinking after you read that sentence, LOL. Seriously though, when we write and others read our work, something from you is left behind. It could be a mental picture, an emotion, a thought(s) or opinion about the story or stories, a yearning to read more (or less). Whatever it is you leave behind, a mark is left, and it’s a mark no other writer can leave.

Each writer has his/her own mark that is indigenous to them. No other writer can replicate it no matter how hard they try. It’s all in your word choice and expressions you use. When someone edits your work, be sure they don’t alter the YOU you put in it. If they do, then they’re putting themselves in it, and you don’t want that. I don’t think they do this on purpose. It’s something that happens and we need to be aware of it. But hey, you might like what they did with it and keep the changes they made.

Leaving a mark also means giving of yourself, so others can take the good you pass on and use it. Maybe it will inspire them to become a writer. That happened with me. When I was in middle school, I read a short story my older sister wrote about a young girl who goes and stays with her grandpa for the summer. It was a very heart warming story, and it left me wanting to write like that too. Although, I don’t write like her. I write like me, and I write fantasy fiction. That’s the only story she ever wrote, and I wish she wrote more. She’d make a great children’s author. But I was inspired by her because of the MARK she left by her own writing.

Posted in Social

Book News

I received notification today that the order containing my books, which was supposed to arrive today (January 29th), has been delayed until February 15. My plan was to begin selling them on Monday February 1st, but now it will have to wait until the February 16th (this gives me a day to set things up).

I am so sorry for the delay. Thank you for understanding.