Poetical Snippets❝ I am full of tenderness the way a cloud is full of rain And I am full of joy the way a flower is full of sun Ready to spill Ready to grow. ❞ *** ❝ Once upon a time, I loved you. Once upon a future, I will love you again. ❞
0 Comments
 Photo by Matt Benson on Unsplash I recently went on a ten-day vacation to the Bahamas to visit my mom's side of the family and to escape the winter in Canada for a bit (the timing was excellent; we got slammed by two back-to-back snowstorms while I was gone). While walking around the Atlantis resort, which we'd visited for the day, we bumped into a mom and her toddler son, Romeo, whom we'd crossed paths with twice before.
I remarked to my mom and sister that it was funny how you could be somewhere with hundreds or thousands of strangers and yet spot the same unfamiliar-familiar faces over and over again. Laughingly, I wondered why I couldn't have had some repeat chance encounters with any hot guys...and it sparked an idea in me for a story. a ramble on creativity ft. anxiety and my mom
I spent the first day of this month celebrating my niece’s birthday—she’s already six!—making up a Ramadan fast, and wrestling with insecurity and envy and a looming feeling of dread.
It’s the latter I wanna talk about, and it springs from my mother. Not that she did anything to me; this is definitely a me problem, not a her problem.  Photo by Damian Kamp on Unsplash So far I've managed to hit 3 of my 2025 goals: update this site monthly (at minimum), write at least 100 words for LofM, and join a writing group. (Well, I sort of restarted an existing writing group, but I'm excited about it anyway).
As for LofM: I've so far written 3,800 words! Most of them new, too, instead of rewritten old words. I'm trying to zero-draft LofM again, with some changes to the plot and structure. I'm experimenting with an Arabian Nights-esque formatting where I write multiple short stories, all linked together into a larger narrative, and I'm enjoying it so far. Here's an excerpt:  Photo by Christopher Paul High on Unsplash Happy new year! I meant to write and post this in December, but procrastination snatched the time right out of my hands. That's ok; better late than never! As my mom recently reminded me, the Prophet (ﷺ) once said that even if the end of the world is quite literally happening, but you still have time to plant a seed, you should do so. Or, as one of my favourite quotes puts it: The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now. (The attribution of this proverb is not precisely known).
And now, because my memory is like Swiss cheese (full of holes), I thought it would be enlightening (for myself, mainly, though maybe you'll find it helpful too, dear reader) to take a look back at 2024, writing-wise.  So......I am shocked. Delighted. Bemused. And baffled. I wasn't feeling LofM's latest start (what else is new) and I could feel that the plot & premise was almost, but not quite, right....so i went scrolling through my hundreds of pages of drafts and snippets and scenes and-- I have some good stuff here! Ten years of working on this wip has left me with some fantastic fragments that I can cobble together and polish into something I'm really, really excited to write. I'm so glad I rarely deleted anything! I just now have to hunt through everything I have for what I want to try and patchwork into one single draft. But ah! this is so fun! and makes me feel so much better about the insidious voice in my head deriding me for having worked on this wip for 10+ years with nothing but pieces to show for it. The scene below is inspired by my trip to the Grand Mosque of Paris years ago (see above photo, which I took!) and also Canada’s lushness, which is always such a surprise every spring and summer after long, grey winters.
Magic runs bone deep in a host, and stays there after death. Bones left to family or friends in wills can be placed in new bodies, through sorcery or surgery, and work almost just as well. But this is something else entirely.
I handle the skull carefully, with gloves, as I usually do with relics. With enough exposure, even just through the skin, magic can be toxic. Not all magics mingle well with each other. It’s the top cause of death for surgeons in my field. This relic is a magnificent specimen. The skull is clearly ancient but quite intact, and white as the moon, and heavy as sorrow. I finish examining the teeth—each one diamond edged and radiating insatiable hunger—and glance up at my shadowy customer (or patient, as the case may be) enrobed in a dark cloak, not one inch of him visible but his gleaming eyes. Put a fresh enough human heart inside a brand new demon, you get a wonderfully confused sort of half-person. Black blooded and obedient, they make excellent hit men. You stare at the prince, trying to wrap your mind around his claim, even as the silver cords bite into your wrists and throat and thighs, binding you in place and burning, smoking, as they do.
No one told you the prince was a mage. Regardless, somehow, your own reconnaissance never revealed that he was, and recon is one of those things you excel at. Besides assassination, of course. And somehow you’ve failed on both accounts. How had he hid his powers? How had he caught you?  Synopsis The crown prince has been kidnapped by the djinn, and his mother will stop at nothing to find him and bring him home, even if it means marching into the realm of the Unseen on what everyone insists is a hopeless mission. He's gone, she is told. Grieve him, for he is as good as dead. If he is returned to you, he will not be the same child you knew.
But he isn't dead, and Queen Sirin refuses to accept his loss, refuses to grieve him, even if she is called mad for her insistence that he is alive, for her determination to rescue him. She cares not that no one has ever returned from such a venture. She's going to save her son or die trying. Enter Halah; the only person taken by the djinn who claims to have escaped them, rather than been returned. Only she can lead Queen Sirin and her cousin, Raoul, into the Unseen realm and guide them through the kingdom of the djinn...so when Sirin pleads for her help, she agrees. She can't abandon a child, even one she doesn't know. Even if it does mean returning to the last place in all the realms she ever wants to see again... |
Musings from a Muslim WriterThis blog features prompt fills, excerpts from my wips, posts about my writing process, and more! Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
