Barbara V Evers

Come with me as we visit the town of Renaissance one last time.  This is the closing chapter of the Rule of 3 . If you haven't read the first three installments of the story of Renaissance, check out the following links: Week 1:  Raker's Return Week 2:  Brigit the Brash Week 3: Albert’s Armory Word Count:  593 Prompts Used:    Relationships mend/are torn asunder. The final event becomes a secret for generations to come. Fire In The Sky Brigit took her frustration out on the F-150’s gas pedal.  “What were you thinking?”  The truck fishtailed  down the Targe highway heading toward the Schiavona Desert. As the truck bounced over potholes, Raker shouted above the roar of the engine.  “You really have to ask?” “She’s only sixteen, Raker.”  Brigit spun the wheel, tires screeching as she took a dirt road leading into the bush.  “And Albert George’s niece.  Nice choice.” Silence greeted that news, and Brigit glanced over at her charge.  The desolation on his face drew her b

© Barbara V. Evers, Do Not Copy Without Permission Karen sat forward, then settled back against the canvas beach chair.  She slapped at the gritty sand coating her ankles.  It clung in desperation to her saltwater-slick skin.  Sighing, she tried the “great beach read” again. After two sentences, she dropped the book to her lap and glanced at her husband.  Eyes closed, his chest rose and fell with low rumbles.  She squinted at the rising sun. That’s when she got a whiff.  A scorched odor wafted on the cool ocean breeze.  It drifted in and out, pulled in waves, sometimes overpowering the essence of sunscreen and sweat.  She glanced around and lurched forward, yanking her sunglasses off as she twisted in the chair.  “What the—” “Synbatec, wastopaneer, tacise.” A frenetic young man, dressed in coat and tie, boogied behind her. Flames licked upward battling the brilliant white glare of paper grasped in his hand.  “Synbatec.”  He shoved the papers away from his body, closer to the umb

Come with me as we visit the town of Renaissance again.  This is part 3 of the Rule of 3 , and we're focused on Albert, Jade's uncle.  It was a toss up on whether to write from Jade's point of view or Albert's, but through Albert we learn a secret that Jade doesn't know yet. If you haven't read the first two installments of the story of Renaissance, check out the following links: Week 1:  Raker's Return Week 2:  Brigit the Brash Albert's Armory Albert George watched his niece climb down from the dirt-splattered F-150 truck.  She flashed a quick smile in his direction and started to stroll on by. The woman in the truck watched them, her body frozen in time. “Jade?”  Albert restrained his voice, seeking a calm tone.  “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.” The girl paused.  “I wasn’t.”  A strange tingle ran along Albert’s spine just like his father told him it would.  Could it be? Didn’t he have four more years to prepare?  He sniffed the air.  Su

My blog vibe isn't working today.  For some reason, none of the ideas I wanted to use in my post fit my mental rhythm.  It's Autumn, and the cooler weather might be to blame.  I'm serious.  This kind of weather makes me feel relaxed and comfortable.  Not exactly the kind of mood you need to buckle down and get work done. Not to say, I've not been productive today.  Thirteen baskets for the South Carolina Writers' Workshop conference's silent auction grace my dining room table--sorted, packed, and wrapped today, thanks to the assistance of two writers in our local critique group.  I still need to put ribbons on them, but they look amazing.  Hopefully, the conference attendees will find them appealing, too. Everything else I've done today fits into random short tasks on my to do list, and now I just want to relax.  I think I will, so instead, let me share some pictures I found and scanned to my computer yesterday.  They're a little washed-out because

Come with me as we visit the town of Renaissance again.  This is Part 2.  If you haven't read Part 1 , please do so first.  Also, you can find the other writers participating in this challenge here . Brigit The Brash Brigit didn’t spend two hundred and forty-seven years as a dragon keeper without gaining a few survival skills.  By mid-morning, she stumbled out of the maze of the Kastanes mine, blinking at the sun.  The horizon gave no hints to the dragon’s wherabouts.  Sunlight glittered off of the rooftops of Renaissance in the distance. Brigit slapped at the dirt clinging to her clothes.  “Another skirt ruined thanks to that no-good lizard.” Her gaze returned to the town. Raker said he smelled the One.  To town, then.  Hopefully, she wasn’t too late to save his scaley, purple hide. She hiked to her truck’s hiding place and dragged a duffel bag from the cab. The water bottles provided luke-warm refreshment, but she didn’t care and stripped down, pouring water over her sweaty body

I woke to the gentle sound of a steady rain this morning.  The soft warmth of my bed tempted me to linger for awhile, but as I lay there considering the day, it occurred to me to take a walk in the rain.  I don't remember the last time I took a walk in the rain on purpose .  Sure, I've ventured out in rainy weather to get from one place to another, but I might have to go back to my high school days to find a time when I chose to do so. The weather this week has been perfect for walks-- a crisp, light freshness to the air, the leaves on the cusp of change.  So gentle after the long suffocating heat of summer. I enjoyed my walk.  The neighborhood blanketed me with quiet, providing the gurgle of drainpipes on houses and the soft hiss of misting rain as nature's melody. Peace enveloped me, and I found myself remembering a day in my fifteenth year when friends and I walked downtown and got caught in a downpour.  Rather than duck for cover, we danced through the streets singi

Between work and the Platform Building Campaign and the Rule of 3, I'm running into some serious delays in responding to my new blogging friends.  Please forgive me as I try and catch up here. I've received the Liebster Blog award from a cheese-loving blogger, Crystal Collier .  She made me blush with her comment about my blog:  "such a motherly heart, and I love, love, LOVE reading her blog." Thanks Crystal.  I appreciate you!   Everyone, please drop by Crystal's blog and check out her Compulsive Creations. Also, Myne Whitman gave me the Versatile Blogger award.  This is the second time I've received this one, so I'm going to refer to my earlier post in hopes that Myne won't mind that I let it run double duty.  Thank you so much for recognizing me, Myne.  Please visit Myne's blog to enjoy her worldly experiences. Now, in response to the Liebster award, which is reserved for bloggers with less than 200 followers, I must: 1. Show appreciatio

Welcome to my first installment in The Rule of 3 Blogfest .  This week's story line responds to the following writing prompt: There is an argument I hope you enjoy it.  You can view a trailer about the fictional town of Renaissance here . The Return of Raker Raker lumbered through the meandering passages of the Kastanes, staying clear of Heriot’s Pass.  Even in dragon form, he knew to avoid the hangout of the rebellious youth from the village of Renaissance. Smoke curled from his large nostrils as he snorted over his old world language. Village.  Of course, Renaissance deserved the label, but no matter how hard he tried, he spoke in those ancient words while in dragon form.  His purple scales scraped along the tight walls, and the great beast paused to rub back and forth along an outcropping, a low rumble of pleasure rolling up his throat. He paused mid-scratch, lifting his snout.  The scent of lilies tickled his nose. With a thunderous bellow, he rushed forward.  “How did you fi

So What Does It All Mean? I've tracked your comments to last week’s post with interest.  When asked what you thought of, felt, or saw when presented with the word "cat" each of you did exactly what I expected.  You saw something different! In corporate training, communication is one of my favorite topics to teach.  Mainly because we spend every moment of the day communicating whether we mean to or not. I do the cat exercise in my training classes to show people how different our perceptions can be.  The different responses amaze participants and serve as a great reminder that, even face-to-face, we need to be clear and specific in our communication.  The activity, also, allows people to recognize that misunderstanding each other is part of life.  It's not going away. You might think a simple word like cat would not create a gap in communication but consider the variety of responses: I usually see a large cat! What you told me you saw: Sandy-colored short

I've discovered a neat activity that several bloggers on the Platform Campaign Challenge participate in:  Six Sentence Sunday.  I'm not part of the official group doing this, so I'm like that kid sister who tags along. The concept is simple, on Sunday post six lines from your work in progress.  I have to tell you, this wasn't easy for me.  Every time I thought I'd found a perfect passage, it ended up being five or seven lines. Anyway, you can find the official participants here .  I'm just copy-catting them.  (Maybe next week, I'll get my act together and join the official group in time.) My six lines: No one spoke and Adana struggled into the heavier leathers meant to protect her from her enemy’s blade. Several Watchers and Soldiers of the First Sight suffered from the same illness as her mother.  The shortage of healthy warriors might help her remain unnoticed in the rush of preparation. With her head down, she sought to hide the one trait that mad