daily, Exercise in, Style, technical skill

The Daily Five

What exactly is this practice and why does it matter?

The daily 5 is a writing exercise wherein you spend 5 uninterrupted minutes writing every day. The point is to get your brain juices flowing to help with creativity.

But you know what else?  It makes you a better writer. Doing your daily 5 is like doing any other practice for any other skill. It refines technique and reveals the greater overarching concepts in your writing. Sometimes it’s themes or motifs; sometimes it’s just repeated grammatical errors. In any case, if you write in any capacity, doing 5 minutes per day will especially help. There are tons of prompts, ideas, and goal-oriented variations of the daily 5. Pick one and do it! Get writing!

And that’s my daily five. Stay tuned! Later today there’s a special video coming online that I’ll share here. And thenceforth, the paradigm shift will have begun!

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daily, flash fiction, Over 500

Another Magic-themed Writing

It begins with a murder investigation.  I was hired by a client to look into the murder of her sister.  It was a routine job with the usual procedures.  I talked to my police contacts, I poked my nose in a few dank holes, and I came up with the man I thought  caused the death.  The police had already cleared him so, I took it upon myself to confront him and see if I couldn’t trip the man up, get a confession out of him.

Well, to put it plainly, that didn’t work well.  I found myself diving over my red Hyundai, gun in hand.  I carry a Heckler and Koch .45 longslide.  Don’t ask me why; I don’t really know much about guns. This one was a gift from a nut job who had need of my services.  Anyway, once the bullets started ricocheting off the car, I leapt out to the south and fired off three rounds.  The punk screamed out, “Shit, you got me!” and fell to the ground.  Upon checking the body, I saw that two rounds had hit him center of mass.   What’s more, his pockets were full.  I scoured the body hesitantly.  I hate death since my Awakening. I’ve learned enough in the world of magic to know that killing isn’t the wisest decision you could make.  Even people who deserve it… I know better than to take another’s life into my own hands.

Anyway, I looted the body, gathering up a nice little burner phone, $62, a lighter, and a knife.  The phone revealed a couple of text messages confirming that he was in fact the killer I had been seeking. That was a relief.  As I was preparing to perform some minor magic on the phone, I got that goosebump feeling.  The unseen sense alerted me to some kind of magic.  It’s never a good sign when there is sudden active magic around you.  I took a deep breath and tightened my core. As I breathed out, I allowed my essence to follow my breath, filling the area with my own aura.  I believe this particular sight is called “Supernal Vision” within the pentacle.  In the southeast corner, there was the flow of magic, an aura intentionally being flared.  I pointed my gun in that direction, even knowing that bullets were of little value in these situations.

 I checked around for any source of electricity and found one of those metal pipes that connected several outlets.  The corner was too dark to see but, the piping ran in that direction so, I decided to go for it. I channeled the current towards the dark, hoping there would be an outlet nearby and, lo and behold, there was.  I didn’t manage to startle or even shock the target but, he did in fact reveal himself to be a elderly gent. His most blatant feature, his bushy moustache, struck me as silly in its cartoonish, Yosemite Sam appearance. Of course, as anyone with the clearance to read this document knows, his moustache does nothing to detract from his soigné. Before the Old Man, I had never actually been approached by someone with such distinguished and refined tastes, not the least of which was his trademark cane.  That ornate golden design, which I now know to be a mark of the Guardians of the Veil, was only trumped in beauty by the precious bloodstone that topped the cane, shaped to a perfect sphere.

“Mr. Valiant, we are rather impressed with your work.  Your former mentor suggested you would be a great asset to our Order. As such, I have been asked to offer you a retainer.” I shivered as he stated my true last name, and my mentor.

“What for?”  I asked plainly, cautiously.
“A long term project…  I think you will find it very beneficial to say yes.”

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