Mark Johnston 🍁

@markjohnston905

Dad, teacher, author (author.mrjohnston.ca)

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Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· 29d

Chilled in one of these Muskoka chairs 👍

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· 29d

A little reading while I wait for my daughter's guitar lesson to end. @cmdr-hadfield.bsky.social Park got a nice little makeover!

Reading The Apollo Murders by Chris Hadfield at the park named after him

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 20

From book 1 of my YA fantasy series. WIP is book 3 👍 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

44: Birds of a Different Feather
Bert was shocked and didn't know what to say. He had to give it to Cat, she didn't seem phased at all. Bert knew her well enough now to know she must be seething inside, but outside she was the calm princess he had known from before.
"Thronewarden, a pleasure to see you," she said, her entire demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. In a heartbeat, her hood was off, her hands resting over her waist, her spine perfectly straight, chin and nose in the air. Even her voice changed—higher, quicker.
"Indeed," Crowe replied sullenly. "Spending time with the thief-boy and some vagabonds, I see." The question of why wasn't asked, but it was clearly there.
Cat didn't respond. She just stood there, unmoving. It was clear the question was simply too rude for her to address.
"Nothing to say, Princess?," Crowe spat.
"What is it you wish me to say?" she asked simply.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 19

Surprised to find divine at all! From my first novel, a hard adult scifi, Solar Umbrella. It's a somehow optimistic climate change story. Seems all the more relevant today than ever. 🌍☂️☀️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Parker was able to place the accent now, but it sounded more Scandinavian than Russian. He wondered if perhaps Alexander had spent time outside of Russia. No matter now. Wherever he was from, Alexander looked like he had been grown in a lab rather than born from a pair of human beings. The guy could be used to sell Russian vodka or something. If his brain matched the work they had seen so far, he would make for one hell of a formidable human.
"Your work was very sophisticated, Alexander. We took a look at a bit of it. You should be very proud of what you accomplished. Your victory was well earned," Kate recovered, smiling.
The other three added their agreement and took their turns shaking Alexander's hand. Alexander seemed delighted with them. At first Parker had felt like he did when he started high school—like the big Russian was almost toying with him. A god sent from above just putting in his time with a measly human before returning to Olympus to drink ambrosia and rule the universe. After a little time, he recognized the feeling better. Alexander was just as impressed with them as they were with him. He seemed like someone who had finally met his people.
"I am very excited to be taking this trip up to the moon. I've always wanted to travel in space and I did everything I could to make sure my group and I would have this opportunity," Alexander added. "To meet the lot of you makes my heart sing! I can't wait to spend this time with you, picking your brain on your designs. And the coding!" He put his hands over his heart and bent his head back, as if his body was being flooded with ecstasy, "simply...divine! In Russian, I am Alexander Eugeune. Please. Here, and in space, I want to be Alex. Oh, and on the moon as well!"

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 18

From my WIP, final of a trilogy ya fantasy. Memory needs cleaning up and I won't number them in the final copy, but getting there. I've always wanted to do chapter starter things, so I'm trying. Do they have an actual name? Yes, I'm keeping that chapter title #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

2: Dreams and Dragon Farts
Memory One.
The room is hot. Too hot for the season. So many faces gathered around the table. Some I know. You are there, Cat! Sana, Fisca, Eldritch, Dray. Others. Papers. Maps. Stamps. Everyone is talking at the same time. I can't make out anything. It's like everyone is speaking the same language, but it's one I don't know. The room is hazy. No, my memory of it is. I'm sorry. I can't pull out any more right now.
— Bertram to Catrin, Cadenport
Bert spoke the words and Cat wrote them down as quickly as she could. As far as he knew, he had awoken after a full night of peaceful sleep in a room reserved for Queen Catrin Wyrmblessed in the most expensive part of Cadenport. He sat a moment, Cat being completely still and quiet, and tried to dig out more. He closed his eyes, calmed his breath, tried lying back down.
Nothing.
He couldn't even see what he had seen again, let alone get more.
"That's it, I guess," he said finally.
Cat actually jumped up and did a spin. "This is fantastic!"
"But...how?"
"It's something, which is more than we had yesterday," she said, plopping down next to him. Her smile was large and her green eyes had that glint they had when she was excited.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 17

@deadder.bsky.social Nailed it

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 17

From Generations, my 3rd book, YA sci-fi. Much closer to the end than I'd usually share, but whatever! 🌍🚀💫 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #🪐📚

52: Fallout
Rupert managed to get the door to open enough that he could slip through. Zhang followed, grinning ear-to-ear and tossed Max a thumbs up. It was clear they had been watching the video as Argo broadcast it. Max and the others inside the Pilot’s chamber had heard it playing on screens outside the door as the rebels worked to get in.
Max looked at Rupert carefully as he walked in, flanked by two rebels who had acquired guns at some point. The man had always struck Max as fatherly and kind, but he looked a little like a warlord as he carefully looked around the room—looking for threats or opportunities—Max wasn’t sure. He walked up to Max slowly and then smiled. Suddenly Max saw the Rupert from Sherwood. This was a man who could rebuilt the ship. Max would trust him with that role. Rupert raised his hand, and Max took it, shaking gladly.
“Not the plan we agreed on, Max,” Rupert began, “but it seems to be working. We are getting reports of workers and soldiers making their way to the core. It seems the two of you were very convincing. Oh, it’s not perfect. There are groups holding out and fighting, but it’s diminishing by the minute.”

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 16

From my WIP, last book of my YA fantasy series. My grandmother was a short woman, but carried a lot of pride in that small frame. This snarky handmaiden makes me think of her. 🗡️💌 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Her handmaiden rushed out quickly and put her finger over her lips. "Sir Dragontongue! The lady is meeting with Mistress Wise, Lady Grafton, the Council of Cadenport and others. You must not shout at her, and you must address her as your majesty in public. You know this!"
Bert moved to walk past the diminutive girl, but she moved sideways like a crab, blocking him. He sighed. "I am to leave right now and I don't know when I will return. Can she be disturbed for even a moment?"
"She cannot," the handmaiden said sternly. "You may write her a letter on this paper and I will ensure of its delivery at the soonest possible moment." She grinned. "That is, if you know your letters, Sir Dragontongue?" She held a pink piece of paper gingerly from her hand.
Bert sighed and shrugged. He wasn't going to push his way past a handmaiden. Perhaps he could fly Yellow back for a proper goodbye in a few days. "I am a learned man, I'll have you know," he said, taking the paper. He wrote a hasty message with what he knew of his mission so far, and promised to return as soon as possible. He promised to be careful and apologized for leaving without a word. He wished her well in her endeavors and realized that sounded stupid, so scratched it out and just wrote, I love you, always, instead. He folded it and gave it to the girl. "I need my armor from the interior room, if you will."
The girl took the letter and it vanished into her skirts somewhere. She took off quickly and returned the armor in three trips.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 15

So, I know this is supposed to be the other coach, so I'm really pushing it with wagon, but mucho vibes 😉 From my WIP. #writingcommunity #WIPsnips #writesky

"Exactly," Dray agreed. "As I say, perhaps some memories will return in time. Until then, we must continue our quest for peace. This is just a small stop on our journey. Whatever happens, you are still a wyrmrider, a tested fighter and a good friend, Bertram. I am proud of you, and I am proud you tried this for us. Whatever the result. Your bravery astounds me." He offered Bert his hand.
Bert took it gladly. "I am lucky to have you in my life, Dray." He stood.
"If you two are done being mushy," Cat interrupted, "let's return to Mira and the others. She will be glad to see you well, Bert. And happy to have the Earth Mother safe again, no doubt."
The two men nodded and made their way down to the waiting wagon.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 14

From book 1 of my YA fantasy trilogy. Book 3 is my WIP. Cat and Bert are surprised to find their nemesis waiting for then. The days of playing adventure in the wilds are over, the court is back. 🐦‍⬛👑🏰 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 13

This is from my WIP, final book of my YA fantasy trilogy. Bert undergoes a pagan ceremony and doesn't get what he expected. 🍵🔥🐉 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“Our people have done this for generations. Perhaps that is the explanation. Your body handled the solhara differently than our people do.”
“But, why?” Cat asked quickly.
“Tell me, Catrin. Is your father tall? Does he have straight, white teeth? Is he a man who can piece things together quickly or does he need many explanations before he can understand a topic?”
“You’ve spent enough time with him to know the answers,” she replied.
“I see his daughter before me. A woman of beauty and intelligence. She makes better decisions than him, we all say thanks to that.” He smiled.
“I get it,” Bert said finally. “Just as Cat shares things with her father, we all share things with our parents and ancestors. Your people, Dray, have spent generations getting used to the solhara and how it affects your mind and body. I am almost certainly the first of my family to experience it.”

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 12

Poor Bertram is out of his element. Innkeeper named in honour of the great Robert Jordan. 🏨🍲 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“My lady,” Elayne said quietly. She stood. “Anything you need is yours, Catherine Cooper. All you need to do is ask and the Red Turkey will provide!” She shouted it loud enough to earn a turn and nod from several of the women and girls working in the tavern. “Enjoy your meal.” With that she walked away.
“Not a word until we are alone in our rooms,” Cat whispered to Bert.
He nodded his understanding and took a bite of the stew. It tasted of cod, leeks and hints of garlic. There was another flavor Bert couldn’t name, but the entire thing was unbelievably delicious. “By the saints...” he said aloud.
Cat smiled and took a spoonful herself. “It’s the truffle that really gives it that extra something.”
“Ah, of course,” Bert agreed quickly. He ate happily, wondering what exactly a truffle was.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 11

Bertram and the gang have a fox problem. 🦊 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Elric smiled at Bert knowingly. "Good luck with that, Bert."
Bert sighed. "Look at us. We are fighting each other and doing more damage than The Capital can. We need to find peace with one another if we hope to bring it to the world."
"Well said, lad," Dray added. "There's more to it. We've learned that Fox not only destroyed some of our cache, but also works to attack our supply lines, cutting off food we had coming in from all over. Put simply, our army and Cadenport will starve if we cannot either stop this Fox or find new sources of food. Soon."
Bert had noticed meals getting tighter, but figured that was just due to the army that continued to swell as more and more communities joined their cause. In his mind, that settled it. He and Dray would chase down this Fox and put an end to his destruction. He would have to convince Cat of the right of it. He knew her fire came from the heart and he loved her for it, but she was as intelligent as she was fiery, and she would see the logic of it given time.
Mira sighed. "I know I have been...off, but this is still the right decision, Bert. Thank you."
An open Mira was a rare thing, even at the best of times. Bert knew not to push her and just nodded. He'd settle things with Cat and then organize their force with Dray. It was time for him to help.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 10

I've got a substitute for... well, yeah. 😀 Generations, ya sci-fi. Max and Sophia discover they're on opposite sides. 💔🤖🚀 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky 🪐📚

Walking into the room, he saw an exact copy of the room he had woken up in on that first day. Sterile, lifeless, full of metal and glass. A single pod sat in the center of the room, a middle-aged woman’s face looking out. She was still hibernating, awaiting her turn to join them. Would she be a worker like Max, a life given to dangerous, boring, repetitive jobs? Or would she be destined to join Sophia and the others in the central spine of the Ark?
“The doctor’s replacement,” Sophia said suddenly, resting her entire body on the pod. She was tired: Max could see it in her eyes and the way she collapsed on the pod.
Max knew he was at least partially to blame. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he started, but was interrupted as she grabbed his arm. Hard. Right where he had been cut. “Hey, careful!”
“I had to check,” she sighed. “I almost screamed, Max. The soldier’s wouldn’t have listened, you know? I know you think I’m some big, bad boss out there, but in many ways, I’m more stuck than you are. My dad gives me jobs because he knows he can trust me, but those soldier’s are his. They’d die for him. No matter what I feel for you, they would have pulled you down and treated you like any other...” she sighed again, the distaste in the next word clear, “rebel.” She undid her bun and loosened up her shirt and sleeves. It was clear to Max that she was at a breaking point. “What in the name of the Creator were you even doing there? Why would you risk everything like that?”

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 9

Bertram begins to learn the big bad he's been hating has his own reasons for his actions, and maybe they make some sense. Life isn't always black and white. From my WIP, final in the trilogy. 😌🐉🔥👑 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Again Bert wished for a sharper mind than his. He had no idea what to do with this information or how to respond. “I still don’t understand.”
“The dragons, Bert,” Sana said. “We need them.”
“Aye, lad,” Kaemon said. “We need them on our side. Not just sitting up there breathing fire and eating boars. We need them fighting with us to keep our people safe.”
It was finally starting to click for Bert, albeit slowly. “So, you broke the peace to have the dragons come south with the Wyrm People.”
“Yes,” the king agreed.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 8

Bitttt of a stretch, but hey, it's clearly humid. The fog and humidity are helpful plot devices here. 🌫️⚔️🐉 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

The forests were especially foggy today. He assumed a temperature change had caused the wetness to enter the air. The field area had a light wind blowing the fog, so it was clearer, but the fog in the woods was dense, sitting over the trees, unmoving.
Roads traveled in every direction to and from the city, but they thinned out the farther away they got. No matter how carefully Bert scanned those forests, he couldn’t see a thing.
Nothing to do but wait, Bert talked to Yellow, speaking the plan out loud. He was sure it was more to calm his nerves than remind Yellow, but his friend seemed to enjoy listening. Yellow was in his full set of armor, as was Bert. Sitting on the top of the tower, he assumed the dragon was not tiring in the least.
Bert could make out the archers manning the walls. Other Wyrm People and allies were running along the inside of the walls with bundles of arrows. The archers themselves sat quietly, hiding their bodies from view. He saw Sue talking to citizens, urging them to hide in their homes or public buildings. More than a few were ignoring her, taking up bows and joining the men and women on the wall, earning handshakes from the defenders.
Finally, The Capital army and city guard began to move. As hoped for, there was no organization to their march. Word seemed to just sort of move down the lines, and entire divisions began to casually make their way towards Cadenport.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 7

A short bit. Bertram's messed with the siege equipment. Prison break! ⛓️‍💥 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

He almost stumbled to his knees as a dragon roared from the forest behind him. All eyes turned with Bert's and he saw an enormous blue head rise from a set of trees. Stree'Sta'Ba was making his presence known. The dragon ducked his head back into cover as several arrows were fired into the area. The heavier equipment started to turn and roll towards where the dragon had roared.
Continuing his run atop the walkway on the wall, Bert smiled as he saw a trebuchet fire a rock about a quarter of the distance it should have, the rock landing uselessly in the empty space between the wall

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 6

From book 1 of my YA fantasy series. My WIP is book 3 (about 20k words in!) Not quite stadium, but hey. ⚔️🛡️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

13: The Tourney
The field outside Wyrmgate's walls looked like a completely different place. Usually this was a place where animals grazed in the sun, or where materials were laid out when they were brought into town for sorting and purchase.
Today was a feast for the eyes.
Colored flags and banners hung from every surface Bert could see. Large wooden stands had been erected around the field, and groups of people sat and cheered on contestants, or chatted while they ate and drank. While Bert couldn't make out any of the events from where he was, walking down the path towards the field, he could see jugglers and acrobats entertaining the crowds. The smell of a hundred types of food and drink drifted through the air and hawkers shouted the goods and refreshments they offered.
The tournament was officially to celebrate the Old King's life, but everyone knew the real point was to cement the rule of Garrick Crowe. Every major event that Bert could remember attending here in the past had featured a large dragon made of thinly cut willow and thin linen that blew in the wind over the field. Eldritch filled it with some sort of light air that allowed it to float, even without wind. Today, no one would miss the second flying creature—a crow made of the same material.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 5

Mushy feelings stuff from my WIP. Bertram agreed to leave to help the group without talking to Catein first. ♥️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“Cat, let me explain!” Bert intoned, walking quickly into Cat’s expensive rooms. The handmaiden moved much quicker this time, practically bumping into Bert as she moved to escape the private discussion.
Cat did not reply. She was sitting on a padded bench and patted the empty space beside her.
Bert gulped. There’s had been a relationship of openness and honesty, but everyone had their arguments. Bert knew that a silent rage was a thousand times worse than shouting. He sat anyways, knowing he could never leave without fixing this first. “Cat, I didn’t know anything before they said it. I wasn’t planning anything behind your back—I never would! It just came up and it all fit together in my head. I shouldn’t have agreed to anything before talking to you in private. That was stupid of me, and wasn’t fair to you. I see that now.”
She said nothing, but kept her eyes locked on his.
It was more than Bert could bear and he looked down at his twiddling fingers. “I am new to this. I know how I feel about you and I am trying my best. I promise. I won’t use my life as an excuse for not knowing better, but I didn’t exactly have a lot of relationships to learn from.” He knocked himself on the head. “I just said I wouldn’t use an excuse and then did it.” He looked at her again and got back the same stare. “Oh, Cat, say something! It’s killing me. I would say I would stay, but that’s not right either. I said I would go, and it’s the right thing to do to meet our goals. The goals we’ve set together. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met—the strongest person! You don’t want some man-child hanging off your every word and doing your bidding. I know enough about you to know that! I need to be my own man as well.” He knew he was all over the place. “By the saints, woman! Save me from my mouth! I beg it of you!”

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 4

This one is from really close to the end of book two of my YA fantasy series. Book 3 (final) is my WIP 🪨🍵🔥🐉 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“I love this version of you!” She shouted it, seeming not to care that there were others in the tent. There were tears building up. “I do not want you to change!”
Dray came and sat beside them. “Worry not. He will be the same, only more like himself. It is hard to explain. We have all been through the ceremony. All will be well.”
Cat finally gave in to tears.
Everyone gave her time and space.
Bert continued to hold her hand, but let her cry. He knew she would understand. He realized he’d been thinking about this in the back of his mind for many moons. It was a decision he had already made.
Finally, Cat dried her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic. She hugged Bert tight and simply nodded at him. She didn’t seem capable of words at the moment.
“Dray, will you guide me? I have no father, but I would be the luckiest man in the world to have you in his place,” Bert said, still holding Cat tight.
“Of course I will, son,” Dray replied. “I am honored you would ask.”
“There is no other I would have,” Bert replied honestly.
The man nodded and seemed to have tears of his own forming. “I will guide him well, Catrin.”
She nodded in turn. “You better.”
“There is no ring here,” the Earth Mother said quietly.
Sue Grafton spoke for the first time. “There is one. A ring of stones?”
They all looked at her. “Tell us,” Mira said simply.
“About half a day’s ride from my home,” Sue said. “It’s old and many of the stones have fallen and been rounded by years of wind and rain, but it’s there.”
“It will do,” the Earth Mother. She sighed and seemed to slump even further.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 3

First bit of Generations, my YA sci-fi standalone. Max wakes aboard a generation ship heading towards a new star. 🌍🚀✨ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

1: Wake Up
He was tired of looking at the metal grate, but was too weak to pull his body away from it. The room was hot—too hot—and he thought he might throw up one more time. His face, still covered in the thick, wet goo, was starting to dry.
He must have barfed at least ten times, but no, he was done now. Rather than try to get up again, he rolled over on his back and looked around. Besides the metal grate and depression now holding whatever liquid had been inside him, the room was entirely white. Sterile. A medical place of some sort. Maybe he had undergone surgery and no one knew he was awake.
He tried again to shout or ask for help, but nothing came out. His throat and face muscles were as weak as the rest of him. Lying down felt good—well, better than watching a waterfall of goo flow from his mouth. He hurt all over, but his abdomen and stomach muscles hurt most of all. He wasn't sick, whatever was coming out of him was something else—something to do with him waking up here.
He groaned as he forced his feeble arms to raise his hands above his body to appear in front of his eyes. A laugh escaped his mouth, hurting his throat. "Waffles," he croaked. His hands looked like waffles—the grate had dug into his soaked skin, creating a pattern.
Wherever he was, the room seemed to know what it was doing much better than he did. The lights had been dim when he first rolled out of the container, or bed—whatever it was. At first he thought it had been his eyes adjusting, but he knew now that the lights were getting brighter. There was no one to help him, but the room was doing its part. He heard the hum of a motor as soapy water suddenly sprayed from the walls, washing the goo-puke off the floor and down a drain through the grate. His mouth got some soapy splash-back, but it tasted better than whatever had been in there before, so he didn't complain.
"Max, get up," something said to him.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 2

A short one from me today. What fun is a dragonrider of they're not scared of heights? 🐉🫣 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Scared didn't cover how he felt now.
His sight went black and he felt like he wasn't breathing. He probably wasn't.
The idea of splashing to death in a pile of goo on the stone at the bottom suddenly felt like the best outcome: at least this would be over with.
He dared to open his eyes, feeling at least he should see his last sight and take a final breath when the air was suddenly knocked from his body.
"Oof," was the best he could manage as he landed on his chest on something.
"Hang on, Bert!" a voice shouted. An arm grabbed him by his belt and held on tightly.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jul 1

From early in book 1 of my YA fantasy series. I'm about 15k into the final book (3) now as my WIP. This scene sets up the whole story, more or less. 🐦‍⬛👑 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 30

Everyone loves a love triangle! From book 1 of my YA fantasy series. My WIP is book 3. ♥️📐 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #indieauthor

“What’s that all about? Darian Storme is a good man, and I’m sure he’d do the right thing. Besides, you’re betrothed. Of course he’d help, you’re going to marry him!”
“We’ll see about that,” she said under her breath.
Bert was shocked at this. He had always thought that Catrin and Darian were the perfect couple. A mixture of beauty and strength like you would see in an adventure story! “What are you talking about? You’re always so happy when you’re with him!”
Catrin crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s my job, Bert.” She sighed and was clearly considering what she was going to say next. “This talk is between us and doesn’t leave dragon territory. Deal?”
Bert was taken aback. He wanted to know more, of course, but wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this information. There was no question they had become friends, but surely she had handmaidens and other royals to talk with. Why trust him with this information? It didn’t matter, friends supported each other, so he would do just that. “Of course, Cat. It will stay between us. You can trust me. You saved my life! I can keep a secret in exchange. That’s a cheap price to pay.”
She nodded. “Bert, think of when you’ve seen Darian and me together.”
“Well, all the different tournaments, of course. Training the sword with him, you watching on. At market days and other important events in town over the years.”
“And, what do all those events have in common?”
Bert thought about that. In his minds eye, he saw streaming banners, trumpeters, children laughing, stands full of townspeople. Of course. “They were always in public.”
Cat pointed at him like a teacher acknowledging a favorite student. “Exactly. Our relationship was arranged, as is the case with all royalty. The High King ultimately approves of any such marriages, but Darian’s parents and my father set it all up initially. A trade deal. They need boats, we have trees. They use those boats to get us stuff when we need it. They had a son, I’m a daughter. It’s not …

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 29

MC goes through a rite and has a moment, but then can't recall it later. He's having a tough time figuring out where he fits in with this group and in the world. This is from book 3 ya fantasy, my WIP ☮️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 28

One from my YA sci-fi, Generations. Overwhelming for sensational. Max wakes on a generationship to work for one mandated year, but things aren't as promised. 🌍🚀✨ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #indieauthor

4: The Odyssey Ark II
After spending his entire life—or at least this current one—in the medical wing, stepping into the main part of the ship was so overwhelming that it brought Max to his knees. Leaving behind the dull, lifeless hallway, the breathtaking view before him left him utterly awestruck.
The main portion of the ship was an enormous open space. Along many of the walls were thousands upon thousands of the pods like the one he had been in minutes ago. Small robots, similar to the one he now carried, floated around checking pods, adjusting things he couldn't make out. The huge swaths of pods were stacked beside each other in rows of ten or so, then broken up with enormous areas of glass and structural beams, allowing for an incredible view of space. Max realized that until now, the idea that he was in space was just something he had been told. He hadn't had any reason to distrust the girl, but there hadn't been any windows or anything to prove it to him. The view here left absolutely no doubt.
The first thing he noticed was the absolutely oppressive blackness of it all. It was so dark, he thought he needed a new word for it. Despite the darkness, it was beautiful. The darkness was broken up by the light of distant stars of varying brightness. As he continued looking, he realized the ship was spinning slowly and the view changing. Looking through other windows, he saw smudges of light and color along with the darkness and pinpoints of light from stars.
"Quite the view, isn't it?" the girl asked. "Help him up," she said to the doctor.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 27

Where's the fun in writing the last book of a trilogy if you can't get a little stupid with the chapter titles? Anyone who's read this far deserves this kind of bullshit 😜 About 1k words today, ~14k unedited total into this one. Having fun! #amwriting #ya #fantasy #writesky #indieauthor

image shows the title of a chapter in the writing program scrivener called "Butts and the Art of Diplomacy"

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 27

From Dragon Tongue, book 1 of my YA fantasy series. My WIP is book 3! #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

27: Communication
It had been a day of clear skies and easy travel. Now the sky was going through its daily cycle of color. Out here, with little noise and little smoke from fires, the colors were even brighter to Bert's eyes.
They had started a fire and were preparing to eat before spending the night under the roots of a large tree that had fallen in the recent past. The large tangle of roots made for a great reflector of heat, allowing them to sit and enjoy the night well after dark. They had been able to clean up in a creek and hang much of their outer clothes from roots sticking out of the ball. Cat had seemed comfortable enough in her underclothes around Bert, so he had done the same. He figured it wasn't weird unless he made it so. If they were going to spend so much time together, best they were comfortable. And best they didn't smell like he had before the dip in the water.
"It's all making sense now, after seeing you communicate with that dragon," Catrin said, breaking the silence.
"How so?" Bert asked as he stretched a rabbit over sticks before placing it near the fire.
"I remember being in The Capital with my father when I was younger," she began. "They have a whole wing of art featuring dragons there. Looking back, I remember seeing a man basically in the same position you were in before a large dragon. The dragon wasn't injured—it was just outside a city gate I think—but it looked like the one today. It was curled up, wings folded into its body and head down. I don't think the man had wings, but perhaps he did, or was using his arms instead."
Bert considered this. "Do you think it showed them making peace?"
Catrin shrugged as she started peeling some root vegetable she had pulled from the ground as they were walking earlier. "It was clear they weren't fighting. The old Lorekeeper there explained it as the dragon bending to the man's will, and I didn't think twice about it. Now, I wonder."

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 26

One from my actual WIP, which is coming along nicely. Mira and Bert give captured soldiers the choice to surrender. ⛺🔥🐉 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

"For now, they are sent into our own lands to work off their debts to us. It's much better than what I've seen here in the south," she replied. "And certainly better than a dagger in the neck, arrows in your throat or being burned by wyrm fire."
"We'd do what up there?"
"Perhaps cut trees," she chuckled. "But actually do it, not just talk about it. Perhaps mine for metals. Perhaps make weapons for us. Perhaps prepare food, build homes or help our farmers. I cannot say for certain. It's not my role, to be frank."
The man put down his hands slowly and moved them, showing her the dirty tents, rusty weapons on the ground and general state of their camp. "Serving The Fox has been worse than any work you have described, lady." He looked to his men and each nodded in turn. "If you offer your protection, we will tell you what we know. The life you offer is better than the one we are living. If you take us to the city and give us some food and drink, you shall have your answers."
Mira considered a moment and finally nodded. "We'll take your horses. Leave the weapons and tents. You have a moment to collect anything important to you while we look around. You shall have your beggar's feast." She turned as several Wyrm People moved in to watch the men closely and make sure they didn't do anything unexpected.
As they left the camp and entered the darkness of the forest once more, Bert almost tripped as he heard an incredible whoosh of sound as the dragons laid fire to what had been the camp. Whether Mira had wanted to send a message or simply cover her tracks, Bert wasn't sure. Whoever this Fox was would find nothing but destruction.

Mark Johnston 🍁@markjohnston905· Jun 25

Welcome to Luna One. From my first novel, Solar Umbrella 🌍☂️☀️ 🚀🌕 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky