Zen in writing.
Yesterday was my birthday and I spent the day doing nothing. In our lives these days, we often don't leave time to pause, take a breath and think. This "active inactivity" is crucial for our minds to find peace, to settle when stressed and for those of us who write, to open up our imaginations.
There is much to be said about taking a pause and thinking about what it is that is overwhelming you. With all that has been going on in my life, I was surprised I hadn't gone into meltdown. Weddings, babies, finances, busy season at work, writing contracts and deadlines. So many things were coming at me at once, and my writing was suffering for it. I needed to take a pause. My muse needed a break. I needed a chance to recharge and meditate. So I did.
Yesterday I sat and meditated on my story. I worked through plot issues, played with scenerios and contemplated alternate endings--all in my head. I didn't go anywhere. I didn't work in the garden or in the house or watch television. I did nothing, and as I open my laptop this morning and face my deadline, it doesn't seem so steep, it doesn't feel so heavy.
Give it a shot sometime. Take a day and do nothing but think about and evaulate whatever project you are working on. Open your mind, relax and roll the ideas around in your head. Don't pick up your laptop, your notepad or trot off to work in your office. The goal is to do nothing but meditate on whatever it is you want to focus on. Don't give in to the urge to jot things down or start writing. Take a pause and study whatever situation or problem is bothering you. Give yourself time to study it from every angle. You'll be surprised when solutions to your problems seem to magically apear.
Okay, enough about doing nothing. Here's a little something-something.
All rights are the intellectual property of the author. No part may be copied or reproduced without the permission of the author.
***Warning. The following story contains erotic elements, explicit language and violence. Read at your own risk.***
“You weren’t serious? You’re not keeping me?” Relief. She slowed her breathing. Then another feeling replaced the relief. Disappointment? Gods, Tesza. He’s a killer.
“I couldn’t leave you, someone would have found you and you’d be a pile of ash. I was merely teasing.”
“Teasing? I’ve never been teased.” The Butcher was ice, not friendly and not someone who’d tease.
But he did.
“I didn’t think the Kori had a sense of humor.” Especially this one. Tesza yanked the sheet from under his boot and gave him a wry smile. “Thank you for saving me.”
He stepped on the sheet and dragged it back, pulling it from her chest, grinning. “It wasn’t without its rewards.”
Arrogant bastard. A quick shove of the hand and Tesza knocked his boot off. She rose, tugging the covering around her. “Could I get my clothes back?”
“Look, I get that you think this is funny, but I don’t. Please, give my clothes back.”
“Can’t. I burned them.”
Tesza sucked in a deep breath. This conversation shouldn’t be happening. Her, him, in the same room without one of them being dead. Unheard of. Yet, all she could think about was getting under cover. “Those garments were all I had.”
He rose from where he sat, walked over to a chest and threw the lid open. He glanced over his shoulder. “I have something in your size.”
“How could you possibly know...? Oh.” Her cheeks ignited. Why was she embarrassed? She’d been raised to do this, handle this. If captured, it was her duty to seduce the enemy. So why did she feel so out of control around him?
“What’s your name?”
“What do you want it to be?” He spun around and came face to face with her, gazing in her eyes. His breath tickled her face, his energy made her body hum. Gods. They weren’t supposed to be so appealing.
Tesza licked her lips.
He growled. Low, barely perceptible.
“Friend,” Tesza squeaked and back-peddled. He stepped forward, eating up the distance between them. Her heart began to skip in her chest. She wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her, touch her.
She shouldn’t be thinking anything about that, but couldn’t stop. Sparks of energy seemed to dance between them. The attraction, undeniable.
Undeniable and wrong. She wouldn’t kill this one. He’d saved her. She couldn’t kill him. Gods. He needed to let her go. Back to Jarod, back to her life. She needed to forget him. Get away.
“We can be more.”
Bolts of lust slammed into her so hard she could barely control her breath. Her body trembled. Her hands shook. She had a hard time pulling her eyes from his. Tesza drew on her last bit of remaining self-control and backed up again, putting a safe space between them.
“Much more.” He closed the gap. Tightened the trap.
“You’re my enemy. You and yours have murdered the people of my clan for over seventy years.” No. “There can be nothing between us but distance and darkness.” Please don’t touch me. Please.
“You don’t feel it?” He reached out and touched her cheek.
Yes she felt it, but it shouldn’t be what she felt for him.
His voice lowered to a whisper. “You deny this attraction? So strong, I couldn’t shoot you. So strong, I want you like I’ve wanted no other, regardless that I’d be executed, or my soul tainted for acting upon the urge.”
She opened her mouth but her tongue felt heavy, frozen. Tesza shook her head and took another step back, losing her sheet. The Kori was standing on it. The grin on his face made it clear it wasn’t an accident.
“Liar.” He stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders, yanking her to his body. His mouth lowered to hers. Tesza’s knees gave way and she clung to his shoulders, desperate to maintain her strength. Hunger moved through his lips and raced through her blood.
Gods be damned, she was a liar.