She swept her hand in a sharp arc. Gale-force wind ripped the front off the building, sending soldiers cartwheeling like leaves blown in a storm. The whirling air became a tornado, lifting bricks and roofing tiles as though they were weightless. #CleanWIP (storm)
#CleanWIP Half-Price Bride: Clint slid his arm around Emily while the Palomino’s hooves pranced. “There, there boy. Calm down. Just get us home.” Thunderheads were gathering in the west and would soon cover the moon. Clint hated to scare Emily, but they needed to head for home.
Today’s #CleanWIP theme and collaborative article is Snow. [More info]
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they dress themselves all in green, and dance about–whenever the wind blows. ~ Lewis Carol “Through the Looking Glass”
Use CleanWIP Magazine’s #CleanWIP hashtag with lines from a work-in-progress and your tweet might be included in a https://t.co/a8se3sed2W collaborative article for authors who lean ‘clean’ and readers who love them. The #CleanWIP theme for Wednesday, October 23 is SNOW. pic.twitter.com/6DBr3Pz5pR
#CleanWIP (theme SNOW) “Uncle Kieran says it’s the coldest winter in living memory.” Dolan’s smile faded. “We shall all go mad if the snow doesn’t stop soon.”
He thought at first that it was her voice. But then he turned to see a stranger behind him–a woman, with straight brown hair and sad gray eyes, wearing a tulip-red pea coat that looked brilliant against the white snow. #CleanWIP
— Jessica Marie Holt — Author (@Jessica06311722) October 23, 2019
#CleanWIP Lightning flashed. Emily threw herself into Clint’s arms as the thunder rumbled. “I–don’t like…storms,” Emily stammered. Bowie’s hooves pranced. Clint gripped the Palomino’s reins. “There, there, boy. Just take it easy and get us home.”
It had stopped snowing by the time he reached the cemetery. The gravestones sat in tidy rows, illuminated in brilliant winter sunshine, capped with a thin, sparkling layer of snow. Colorful flowers lay on some of the graves, dusted in white. #CleanWIP
— Jessica Marie Holt — Author (@Jessica06311722) October 23, 2019
#CleanWIP “It rarely snows here in Abilene, and then not enough to measure,” Clint said, slipping his arm around Emily and pulling her closer.
I loved to write at my desk with the blinds fully open and watch the snow fall past my window. There was something peaceful and mesmerizing about the silence of the falling flakes. Something inspiring. Words flowed and filled pages. I miss the snow…#CleanWIP
Something for the authors. This Twitter thread from filmmaker, Christopher McQuarrie is about screenwriting and it has nothing to do with snow. We feel it applies to authors of every sort and is totally worth the time it takes to read. (Maybe save it for a snow day if you must.)
I‘m receiving a lot of questions from writers asking where to submit scripts or how to sell them. Others ask how to sign an agent, attach directors or producers, etc.
Many of these authors and a few others joined together for today’s second article, Character Names. It’s a sweet collaboration we hope you don’t miss.
Ever wonder how authors come up with all those unique names and keep them right in their heads as they write? Check out this awesome collaboration from several authors who prefer to write toward the clean end of the spectrum. https://t.co/zZjNBOZjCu#amreading#amwritingpic.twitter.com/KnVQS1wM6R
“The difference between the right word and the almost-right word is the difference between the lightning and the lightning bug.” ~ Mark Twain
Use CleanWIP Magazine’s #CleanWIP hashtag with lines from a work-in-progress and your tweet might be included in a https://t.co/a8se3sed2W collaborative article for authors who lean ‘clean’ and readers who love them. The #CleanWIP theme for Tuesday, OCTOBER 22 is LIGHTNING pic.twitter.com/2FGN4XcwbE
#CleanWIP We’re in for a bad storm. They can slip upon you before you know it,” Clint warned. “We’re overdue for a rain, but I don’t want to get caught in the middle of a lightning storm. We’d better head back before it hits.”
#CleanWIP (Theme LIGHTNING) When the bonds clattered to the ground, Kyria straightened, flexing her hands. “You’re hurt.” Dolan gently took her nearest hand and turned it over to expose a torn and bleeding wrist. At the contact, a jolt like lightning went through him.
“Mr. Johnson, your grade for this class will be an “A.” Your words are pumped from your heart, filtered through your brain, and they pour out onto paper with lightning speed. I envy that ability, and I only wish that I could teach that.” #CleanWip
We made it through the tornadoes last night East of Dallas with only a fried electric gate. Lightning can be nasty. #DallasTornadohttps://t.co/yTdQrHDfOn
#CleanWIP Lightning flashed. Emily threw herself into Clint’s arms as the thunder rumbled. “I–don’t like…storms,” Emily stammered. Bowie’s hooves pranced. Clint gripped the Palomino’s reins. “There, there, boy. Just take it easy and get us home.”
Lightning would be so romantic if it would just keep its distance from everything important, including all living creatures. Of course we all know it doesn’t. All too often lightning ignites fires, damages homes and other structures, destroys appliances… sometimes it even kills. The earliest scary lightning story I can think of happened when I was perhaps ten years old. While swimming in an in-ground pool, lightning struck close enough that I felt a slight tingle in the water similar to the sensation of sticking a 9-volt battery to one’s own tongue. (Wasn’t everyone their older brother’s battery tester? No? Hmm.) I recall another close call in my early to mid teens. It was much closer, actually. I was watching TV with my dad while Mom was at the kitchen sink when all of a sudden and with a loud blended crackle and pop, a bolt of blue came from an outlet directly behind the television and struck the sink just as Mom took one step back from it. I know there were many other times lightning was closer than I like it to be. I live in Florida. Some have called it the lightning capital of the world though the age of the Internet has shown everything—including this claim—is debatable. Undoubtedly, the strangest lightning occurrences I’ve witnessed were during tornadoes. I’ve been in and near many, especially since February of 1999. I didn’t move. Perhaps they did. Only some of the tornadoes arrived with lightning, but the lighting that came with those that did was unlike any lightning I’ve ever experienced outside of a tornado. Instead of booms of thunder, there were only extremely fast clicks and crackles; the flashes were like flashes of a strobe light at a dance party or the local disco. (Give it time. Disco music will make a comeback, I can feel it.) This article seems it might tolerate one lightning fast tale. This occurred only a half-dozen years ago and it was among the most scary—holding its own with those during the tornadoes. Boom! (Scared yet? No?) About three seconds later, another boom, this one louder and undeniably much closer than the first. I begin to count. One Mississ—BOOM! Shaken, I begin to count again. One—BOOM! And another. BOOM! I lie flat on the floor on my belly, now considering how soldiers must feel when in a war zone under fire by heavy artillery. A final approaching BOOM, quite deafening and then about two seconds later a BOOM further away, but obviously following the same line of travel. I lie flat another couple minutes and finally get the nerve to get up. About twenty minutes later, I hear sirens of fire trucks and getting louder with each passing second. Roughly a minute later, they’re slowing in front of my home then turning onto the small private road at the edge of my yard. Turns out the final approaching BOOM struck a cousin’s barn less than a thousand feet from me and had pretty well burned it down before it became apparent to other neighbors what had happened. But it sure seemed closer.
By Earl Chinnici Today’s lightning theme seemed a great reason to work on my first draft of a work-in-progress currently titled “Fifty Close Calls.” If these collaborative articles have also helped motivate you to add words to a work-in-progress, I’d love to hear from you. Check the contact page for the latest info.
February 22, 2014 – Lightning exploded the side of a tree and propelled several shards of wood into the ground in multiple places, the farthest discovered piece being about fifty feet away from the base of the struck tree. The sticks forming the V (an X when viewed closer) in the background of this photo are also two pieces of the same tree. Others nearby were not photographed.
Today’s #CleanWIP theme and collaborative article is Rain. [More info]
We are excited to announce today the opening of our CleanWIP Magazine storefront. We’ve designed several awesome products already and have many more planned.
CleanWIP Magazine, a new e-zine for writers who market their books as ‘clean’ and the readers who love them, hosts the #CleanWIP author hashtag game Sundays through Fridays. ~ Care to join us? ~ The theme for Monday, October 21 is RAIN. pic.twitter.com/WtM57QimXv
A slow rain fell, forming an intricate pattern of diamond clusters on the window. I studied each one as they trickled down the pane. Suddenly, a clap of thunder shook the house down to the foundation. The diamonds raced for cover and vanished forever. #MuseMon#CleanWip
#CleanWIP We’re in for a bad storm. They can slip upon you before you know it,” Clint warned. “We’re overdue for a rain, but I don’t want to get caught in the middle of a lightning storm. We’d better head back before it hits.”
It was hopeless, and Levi knew it. But he was running anyway. His heart thudded in his ears. His steps pounded on the wet pavement. His lungs screamed for relief. The misting rain flew into his face like tiny cold needles, obscuring his vision. #CleanWIP
— Jessica Marie Holt — Author (@Jessica06311722) October 21, 2019
“A man climbed three stories to Halavant’s window, picked the lock, and decided to practice knife fighting with a sleeping cripple. What he didn’t expect was a quick-witted warrior. Halavant is an astute study in the art of Lausatök.” – King’s Shadow, #cleanWIP
#CleanWIP (theme RAIN) “I’m glad it hasn’t rained lately, my lady.” Oleta grabbed the side with whitened knuckles when the cart jolted over a rut. “Else the roads would be muddy, and that would be even worse.”
Misty rain turned to larger droplets and fell from Brandon’s hairline onto his face. Ava resisted the urge to smooth it away. To erase whatever was driving him toward a place he didn’t belong. A place where nobody belonged. #CleanWip
While it’s true that some things smell better than others do, it’s nice to be able to smell a distant rain. It’s also nice to enjoy the smell of frangipani without a burning cigarette or an ashtray full of butts nearby. I shudder when I think of all the butts I used to smell. ~ Earl Chinnici (from Maybe You Should Move Those Away From You)
Today’s #CleanWIP theme and collaborative article is Wind (the breezy kind). [More info]
“When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.” ~ Henry Ford
Use CleanWIP Magazine’s #CleanWIP hashtag with lines from a work-in-progress and your tweet might be included in a https://t.co/a8se3sed2W collaborative article for authors who lean ‘clean’ and readers who love them. The #CleanWIP theme for SUN, OCT 20 is WIND (as in breeze). pic.twitter.com/t1TdgCnpjM
Maddie’s gaze was fixed on the field. A little breeze blew her curls around her face, and her pink lips were turned up into a small, thoughtful smile. Ace took a mental snapshot. He wanted to remember her just like that forever. #CleanWIP
— Jessica Marie Holt — Author (@Jessica06311722) October 20, 2019
#CleanWIP Thunder clapped and lightning zigzagged across the dark sky as they raced ahead of the storm. The wind whipped at their backs, swirling dust around them. Clint kneed Butter again, urging him on faster, while praying they would reach the ranch before the downpour hit.
Being a Floridian fifty years, I’m no stranger to wind. So it seems to me I should be able to write so much about it, on demand even, but I’m finding it difficult. I began to write yesterday while still being affected by post-tropical storm Nestor. I wrote two paragraphs and stared at them about the span of half an hour then discarded them so swiftly as though I’d suddenly realized they were infected with a highly contagious pathogen. Why would anyone want to read this? I tried again and achieved similar results. A third time I began anew and only made it through two sentences before being disgusted by the way I arranged the words. Perhaps I am tired, I thought. So I slept. As I young child, I recall days with family flying kites on a gentle breeze from the schoolyard. Had my wind-related experiences stayed in the neighborhood of kites and pinwheels and gentle ocean breezes, perhaps it would be easier to write about wind today. But then, how could I ever hope to convey the differences between the center of a hurricane and the center of a tornado had I not been intimate with both? Minutes after I rose and with great determination, I attempted this article once more. Only minutes later, that disheartening realization of failure set in yet again. Anyone near me knows of the anxiety I now feel, but how could one topic cripple me to this point where words will not flow? But isn’t that how it often goes and with nearly any work-in-progress? When it comes to matters of the mind, a work might be ‘in progress’ quite a long time. Perhaps I am tired. Perhaps tomorrow the words will flow freely. Perhaps this tale isn’t so much about wind as it is about writing and about those spaces between words. ~ Earl Chinnici
