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Why Not Write? Camp NaNoWriMo Begins!

Join a Writers Camp like no other!

Hello, folks!

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month, and takes place each year in November. Folks from all over the world spend one month furiously writing novels — whoo hoo!

Camp NaNoWriMo is the summer fun version of this annual undertaking. Each one of us is invited to work on a writing project of our choice for one month, in the spirit of campfires and cook outs.

This month, my daughters and I have embarked on writing projects. And it looks like my sister-in-law and niece will be joining us too.

Here’s a peek of what I started:

Dragon Tale

by Jane Valencia

Santa here, reporting on a typical late winter predawn morning on Yonder Island. The birds are whimpering. The trees are drooping in the drizzle. Who wants to be out here in the damp? The birds don’t, and I bet the trees don’t. And I sure as heck don’t.

My sister Annie is snuggled in bed. My mom has forced me to bundle into layers of thermal underwear, wool socks, my insulated waterproof boots, and, ugh, rain pants. I’m pained as I put all this stuff on, but, see—I’ve been coming out every morning for quite some time. And though I despise all this stuff and nonsense, my scientific mind has to admit that, although I’m miserable out here in the damp, I’m far more miserable when I forego all these absurdities. So, layers and waterproofs it is. I’m bundled as much as I can deal with and still hike up from the house, and up into the Upper Woods. I bypass all my favorite places, our longtime haunts: the Mental Village and DragonAir, the Octopus tree, and all the other fun of the Hundred Acre Woods.

You could say that reason has overcome madness in this regard—or is the other way around?

Santa is not here to play. I’m here for a high purpose. The highest anyone is likely to find.

I’ve an egg hidden in the Upper Woods, an egg of the most incredible kind. And I intend to hatch it. …

[to be continued]

Do you want to be a writer? Then please join me at Camp NaNoWriMo, and let’s all write!

Share what your writing project is in the comment box below!

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Late Winter Wonders

FoxTales features guest posts by characters from the magical fiction novel, Because Of The Red Fox. This post is written by Annie Wakefield-Browne, cousin to Shell Wakefield (protagonist of the book).

Hi! I’m Annie, and I’m super-excited to be writing to you today. Let me tell you about some of our day, and maybe you’ll tell us about yours.

First off, it’s been crazy rainy and windy at times for the past few days, and hail the size of peas spat down this afternoon. Okay, so it hasn’t been as windy as it was about six years ago. (Folks on the island always talk about that storm if you bring up a topic about wind and rain. You can read what Jane had to say about it in her Wise Child Learning blog post, Thunderbird Takes Wing)

But the hail spat like bee-bees from a bee bee gun onto the backs of the ducks in the poultry yard. Oh, they were so confused for a bit, but eventually waddled under shelter.

Near sunset, though, I wandered  out into the field to my favorite Hawthorn tree–she’s kind of like a great-aunt to me, or an elder friend. Anyway, I stopped by to say hello, and I noticed that all kinds of lichen lay on the grasses, blown off by the wind, I guess.  Tomorrow I think I might collect some of the lichen for Jane (you know, the writer of our book, Because Of The Red Fox). I think she’d like to make some medicine from lichen, from Usnea, because of its amazing anti-microbial and anti-fungal properties.

Hawthorn In Winter - photo by Jane Valencia (c) 2013
Hawthorn In Winter – photo by Jane Valencia (c) 2013

Oh, I bet Aunt Elinn, Shell’s mom, would like some too, because she’s an herbalist–well, I’d call her a green witch. That’s really a better term for what she does.

As I wandered about, noting the Usnea, I started noticing the trails along the edge of the field, close to the blackberry and the woods. Wow! There’s a regular highway along the edges of fields, and lots of turn-offs where the animals lunge into the shrubs. Little tunnels are everywhere in the hedges, if you stop to look.

Who makes these paths?

I found a pile of droppings — deer droppings, I think — near one tunnel that seemed to slice through between some pokey holly. If that tunnel is big enough for a deer, it’s big enough for me! I pushed past the holly and …

… and found myself in an amazing secret place! No one would ever, ever find me if I decided to make this my own private shelter, my own private teahouse even. Well, the deer might find me if they decide to pass through, but I could just crouch by one of the cypress hidden away here, and just think my own thoughts.

… mmm!

I pushed back out of my secret hideaway (it’s really just a pocket of a place been our field and a neighbor’s yard, and then wandered a little further.

By now the grass was glowing green with hidden sunset (the sky was filled with low gray clouds). And down the trail the old apple trees were dancing.

Well, not like they were up and moving. But that’s what they looked like and that’s how they seemed.

And that was my sunset!

So tell me. What do you notice at the edges of your yard or a nearby field , or the edges of any outdoor place? Are there trails, tiny or large? Who or what do you think uses them? Where do they go? Do you notice any tunnels?

Do you have a secret hideaway, right where you are?

Thanks for reading! Good night!