And they’re off! As the bitter cold of November nights…
Author: spottedgeckgo
Writer. Making my living on my pen, and working to turn a raw chunk of land into a future homestead.
Part of the outdoor lifestyle is learning to fix or make things from whatever you have available. For the writers in my audience, this will be a chance to learn something cool that might add depth to your stories.
I’ve been sleeping in my half-constructed cabin every night for the past eight months. The trials and hardships of life on the frontier echo from every cardinal corner, but with them bring experience, insight, and inspiration.
Two days until my time with the hunters.
I sat around the small fire at the center of the hut. My hands repeated the simple motion I would become far too familiar with in the coming years. As the strands danced in my fingertips, I contemplated a future as a hunter. The sense of adventure. The freedom from modern tasks like splitting wood and scraping grain. The promise of the wild.
Hey everybody. Just wanted to toss this out there and say that I’ve released version 0.03 of the video game I’ve been working on. The game is based closely on the Gape’s Chronicles stories that I’ve been posting under the Free Stories tab on the menu bar.
People often give up on their dreams before they ever try, and those who try give up after their first failure. Those who succeed keep at it, work at it, and carry their torch in the face of failure, even if they can’t see victory as far as the horizon. They march forward anyway, no matter what hurdles get in their way.
There’s a good reason I didn’t make the game announcement until fairly recently: I never thought I’d actually get it to a playable state.
Threshing grain is the first chore after the harvest, the most important chore, and the biggest cause of sore arms to kick off the season of collecting firewood.
Coming out from hiding to post an update on my writing, my farm, and everything else happening around here.
Late at night, the forest beyond our little village comes alive with chirps and howls. I tended the fire while my mother prepared earthenware pots of porridge and stew. The bed of coals was almost hot enough to cook on, and only a few drips from the light shower outside penetrated the hay thatching overhead. Each droplet made a hiss as it hit the fire.