Friday, July 31, 2015

7-7-7 Blog Challenge

A blogger friend of mine did this challenge and tagged those who hadn’t done it and wanted to do it. So I thought I would give it a go.

These are the rules:
  • Go to page 7 of your WIP
  • Scroll down to line 7
  • Share the next 7 sentences in a blog post.
  • After the excerpt, tag 7 other writers to continue the challenge.
Since I am in the midst of writing a number of stories (books and short stories) so I will be sharing a bit from each of them.

The Reward of Anavrea (editing)

   Urith remained stubbornly closemouthed about the keeper of the keys. Instead he expounded further on Lord Klian and the late Lord Alain.
    Liam grew steadily uneasy. Urith’s description of Klian made him seem even nastier than most of the criminals Liam interacted with during his stint in the service of the king.
With Urith riding behind Liam on his mount at the front of the column, they headed off to meet the keeper. The boy led them west into the forest that bordered the fields a quarter-mile from the village. The trail showed signs of being used by foot traveler, not horses.

Diaspora (writing)

   “About time we finally meet face to face,” Doctor Overan replied. He stepped forward and offered an open hand for shaking. “The name is Doctor Jaynden Overan, but you can call me Jay.”
   Panic and anger straightened my spine. The Diaspora considered physical touch between strangers extremely rude. I made that fact expressly clear in my summary of social protocols. Extending a hand to be shaken equated a marriage proposal.
   Yet, the Diaspora representative’s response baffled me more. He looked at me. No smile. No frown. It was simply an assessing glance before turning to introduce his companion.
   Doctor Overan’s hand remained unshaken.

Prodigal Brother (writing)
   My own grief threatened to undo me. I had avoided dwelling on my father’s, and subsequently Alexter’s, death, for just this reason. No matter how I rationalized it, denied it, or tried to desensitize myself to it, I couldn’t. The pain remained raw. The wound refused to heal.
   Perhaps it was because I was missing the last piece—Nigel. I reached across the physical divide between us and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident. We never thought otherwise.”

Living Sacrifice: Book 3 (writing)
   “The Sept Son is not an elitist.” I stated it with a finality that I hoped would cut off any further questions. “I am not his wife.”
   Ariana nodded in understanding.
   Lotus’ suspicion buffeted my energy senses. I chose to ignore it. In hopes of keeping the women off the sensitive topic, I began telling them about my history while I searched the shelves for extra copies of the Revelation and the Talent’s Code.

I am tagging anyone who would like to do it. My only qualification is that I would love it if you would post a link in the comments so I can read your post. I love encountering other writer's WIPs.


Emily Ann Putzke said...

These are so good, Rachel! You're such a talented writer!

I just did this challenge today. =)

Rachel Rossano said...

Thank you! I really liked your entry. It looks like it is going to be a very interesting book. :)