One In A Billion

Look at us.

We’re all trying to stand out and be noticed.

You, with your talents.  Me with mine.

Each of us on a journey to be heard.  Listened to.  To burn brightly after igniting a spark of interest.

We’re all striking the same matches:
I HAVE WORDS I NEED TO SHARE!

Waiting to be validated by a consuming public, who cannot quench their thirst against the raging flames of entertainment.

So we pound away at the keys, telling the stories our vivid imaginations create for us, and we write the articles our fierce opinions derive, and we share the inspiration our souls have encountered.

And then we wait to be noticed by the general public.

Days.  Weeks.  Months.  Years.

Others who have gone before us and somehow managed to be a hit, surely we can too?

Slowly, our motivation turns to ash.  The embers of longing to share, die.

We wonder why we put so much heart and soul into our work, for it to fall by the wayside.

So few acknowledge our existence, even after the hours we put into our work.  We wonder how people go viral, and what on earth they’re doing different than us.
Do they have different friends?
Do they have different connections?
Do they have different methods for gaining access to the millions of people we wish were our audience, too?

…..The answer is, we’re not all pursuing the same audience.

While each of us wish to be accepted for who we are, and what we bring to the literary world, we’re still different.

We have different pursuits.

We have different goals.

We have different messages we want to send.

We tell different stories.
Somewhere along the way, writers begin to join in a uniformity, the answer must be in writing the same way?
“You must write this way/you must write that way.”
“I don’t like to do this, you probably shouldn’t either.”
“Nobody writes like that anymore.”
“I wouldn’t read it, but I guess someone else might….”

Validating ourselves against others, instead of remaining true to ourselves.

The odds feel stacked against us when our words only reach a few people sprinkled throughout the world.

Don’t stop trying, despite the odds.

Yes.  You are one in a billion.

You don’t need a million followers, you simply need to be true to yourself.

Tell your story.  And then believe your story is worth being read, and pursue the audience you long for.

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El Niño

A little boy emerged from the sea looking for his playmate.

Once he emerged, and the world welcomed him.

A second time, chaos ensued and the people scoffed.

They shook their fists at the sky, they threw their hands up in the air.  Some wept, others laughed.

Angry, the little boy confused their seasons, scattering the Winter in strange places.

Where piles should drift, there were none.

Where ice should be dripping, rain fell instead.

Frustrated the people continued to complain.

The little boy did not relent.

Meanwhile groundhogs everywhere laughed, playing with the boy as he ran through the fields and forests looking for his playmate.  Still she could not be found.

While Mother Nature slept her children were up to no good.

Faet & Fantasy : Kiena’s Blessing

At a distance the faerie hovered, peering around the tree she hid behind.  A single crystal tear escaped.  She flicked it quickly away chiding herself for crying.  Promising oneself not to cry is ridiculous, the heart is an untamed imp with a mind of its own.

They took hands.  She felt her body shudder as her throat strangled a sob.

It shouldn’t hurt, but it did.  Love was a fickle thing.

As their brows touched, and her vision went blurry, Kiena clenched her jaw.  Balling a fist, the faerie tried to strengthen her resolve but the tears would not depart on command.

She was just going to have to bless the couple regardless of the trembling sobs overtaking her.

With a deep breath that crackled in her chest, she grit her teeth, and raised a hand.

“May she bring you Light.”  A thin flitting of glittery magic swirled toward the couple.  “May she bring you joy.”  It encircled them, though neither noticed for they could not see the magic Kiena gave them.

“May she fulfill all of your dreams, so that you will never be in want.

“May she bear you children, and raise them in harmony and peace.

“May she never bring you ill-will, or contention.

“May there always be peace within your families.

“May love abound unguarded.

“May she adore you all of her days.”

Kiena couldn’t continue as she pressed into the tree, overwhelmed by her grief.  After a long moment crying silently, she finished her blessing in a whisper, “And may her life be free of darkness- though if there is, may it be easy to overcome.  For happiness I gift you, and joy, that your days may be full.”

With that, the magic encircling the couple consumed them in a wind.

~*~

Rynn knit his brow glancing around, having felt the effects of the magic.  His eyes met Kiena’s one eye that peered from behind the tree.  For a moment his heart stopped, as quickly as he blinked, she vanished and he heard her wings buzzing urgently away.  A sad smile turned half of his mouth up.  He would always have room in his heart for her.

And then his eyes met those of the love of his life.  Her eyes glittered like the stars in the heavens, enchanting his entire being.  Without another thought of Kiena, he took this lovely creature into his arms, and kissed her as he’d never kissed before.

Author Introduction: Tyler Omichinski

Tyler Omichinski and I met through a writing group known as Den Of Quills on Facebook.
He is featured in our upcoming Anthology, Den Of Thieves, and is personally publishing our NEXT anthology to be released in time for Autumn 2015.
With upcoming releases of his own, I now turn it over to him!

Tyler Omichinski

I am a somewhat experienced writer and freelancer, whatever that means.

My background is in law, politics, and policy, and I tend to dabble and be involved in stuff like that still. I dream of someday being able to make it just writing and doing essentially just what I want to do.

I’m about to release a couple of short stories as ebooks on Amazon. I’ve seen how webcomics, RPGs, and a number of other industries have gone with how they changed their business model, and now in the latest Writer’s Digest, at the time of writing, they are talking about a number of writers having success releasing their short stories online. There’s been a lot of other signs about it being a good call, so I’m releasing a few short stories that people have loved but haven’t been able to otherwise find homes to Amazon to see how they do.

I’m starting with two main pieces; Drop Out and From the Desk of Elizabeth Cooper. Drop Out is the second in a series of short stories that I’m writing about the future of humanity and how it seems to me that things will shake out as a result of us trying to become a post-needs society and deal with the environmental problems that we’re starting to face. From the Desk of Elizabeth Cooper is written as a found document and is vaguely cosmic horror. It is an attempt to modernize and follow Lovecraft, but applying modern corporations and laws to show how strange and alien these artificial creations really are. It feels unsettling and alien.

Currently I’m trying to put together a few different things. I have a novel that is nearly half done that I’m hoping to be shopping around to agents by the end of the year. I have released some teasers and early bits on my own website. I’m also doing my freelance thing, including a lot of writing for RPG companies. Finally, I’m involved with a publishing company here in Canada that is looking at doing some things with James Bond now that he’s off of copyright here in Canada.

My short stories will be out soon at my Amazon page, and I have a few pieces that I’m already featured in but you can see most of my portfolio at my own website.

Tyler has been writing for games companies for a few months, sent a number of short stories out into the wild, and regularly slings copy to keep him in coffee. He lives with a gigantic black dog named after Lord Byron who lives up to the name, and a badass editor of a fiancé. At some point he will likely have to get back into the day job game, but for the time being he’s wrangling with words and fighting them into submission.

The Ranger Of Severum: Episode 5

Trillian held his breath as the musty scent of the damp palace filled his nostrils. The women of Severum were allowed to clean, but Sideon preferred the depressing, gloomy air that hung even in the open areas of the Palace. It fed his evil soul the tiniest bit of comfort. Trillian did not find the air unbearable. The Master Trainers and Rangers were allowed brighten the fragrance of their rooms with the spicy aroma of pine. Though dreading the scent, Trillian also found it welcoming because it meant he was home.

The Ranger walked swiftly into his Master’s study, fearing the punishment in store for him. When angry, Trillian was the one Sideon took it out on.

Trillian was different from the others, his tolerance to withstand punishment was higher than most anyone else’s in Severum. He could bear it without discouragement, whereas many of the other men found themselves degraded and self-conscious.

Sideon wanted a chance to break that in him and to cause Trillian to crumble as the others, but his attempts were frustratingly futile.

Trillian stood at the door in procrastination. He finally raised his fist to knock just as the door swung open.

There, face to face, Trillian met Sideon.

“So, you finally come to me?” The Lord of the Rangers started.

His dark hair was pulled back and held in place at the nape of his neck. Streaks of gray ran above his ears and one shock trailed from the center of his brow down the back of his head.

The Old Master was in his five hundredth year and his life was coming to a close, though at least another hundred lay before him, belying the signs of age.

His angular face smoothed with relief, “Trillian, you are well aware that keeping me waiting is not a good idea. You know what happens to those who try my patience.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Wake up in a nightmare, you will, if I catch you coming to me late again.” As Sideon closed the door behind Trillian, the Master’s attention was drawn immediately to the severed wing which hung helplessly down the left side of Trillian’s back.

“What have you allowed to happen to yourself?” he shouted angrily. Sideon could seem merciful and gracious the one minute, but the next his anger would surpass constraint as he let loose in violent fury.

Trillian held his breath, ready to give his well thought explanation, but before he could begin, Sideon started right into his questions.

“So, did you complete your second mission?” Sideon asked impatiently.

“Yes Master, not one troll was left.”

“You had no encounter with any enemies?” Sideon clearly wanted the account concerning Trillian’s wing.

“This did not happen in Taar.” Trillian began.

“And has it something to do with the woman everyone watched you walk in with? Is she the one who gave improper care to your wing? I know you did not do that.”

The accusing tone in Sideons voice gave Trillian nervous pause.

“Tell me, what was she doing as she bandaged your wing?”

“I made no form of contact with this woman. I merely saved her from a small band of the Druids of Câr. She asked me to escort her to Severum this morning after she had given care to my wounds.”

“I do not believe you,” Sideon said with raised eyebrow. “I will have some of the satraps inquire of her, and if I find any reason for you to not be in earnest, I will send you and her away in disgrace.”

“If you will but give me a chance to explain—” Trillian suddenly collapsed to his knees as pain shot through every nerve in his body.

Sideon contemplated the idea of hearing his explanation, “Very well, I give you five minutes.”

Trillian related every detail that had happened from Taar, to fighting off of the last Druid.

“You used your power against them? You are not one who can work against the powers of the druids. What were you thinking?” Sideon asked angrily.

Trillian nodded, “I know that I should not have been so hasty in the matter, but I found this challenge welcome amid the frame of mind that had settled upon me.”

Sideon remained silent, so Trillian continued.

When the Trillian finished, Sideon sat back reflectively, “Your story does seem to carry some truth in it. You completed the task I sent you forth to do, you earned your punishment for combating alone, and so I suppose there is nothing left for me to do. Well done, Trillian.” He mused, tracing a finger beneath his chin. “What does this woman want?”

“I am not sure,” replied Trillian.

“Then I am giving her situation to you. You are free to go.”

Trillian knit his brow and stood, “Thank you, Master.” he replied slowly.

“Hurry and go to the healer. That wing must be tended immediately.”

“Yes, Master.” Trillian bowed at the waist, then turned to leave. He was confused, but was not going to hesitate for a moment. The mercy he had just acquired was a precious gift indeed. His hand caught the knob, and Trillian was gone without taking a look back.

Sideon almost laughed in glee, as Trillian closed the door behind him. He clapped his hands together in delight, lacing together the pieces of a grand new idea.

“Rûthlion!” Sideon called out.

“Yes sire?” the general entered from a side door.

“I want you to keep an eye on Trillian. This is the second occurrence of such events. You remember what kind of revolt he ensued last time, we do not want that happening again.”

“Yes sire. And the woman?”

“She can remain. Yulissa is promising, maybe she will be the one to beguile him.” Sideon mused.