Settings vs. Places

What’s the difference between settings and places? — a reader asked me.

Imagine a town, its houses, their white picket fences, the meticulously maintained gardens. The faint scent of the Night-Blooming Jasmin and the Angel’s Trumpets, mingling with the musky aroma of freshly lit tobacco. The muffled footsteps, falling over the cobblestones of the ancient alleys blending with the hushed voices of lovers, under the canopy of stars. — that’s a place… and a setting.

Now, imagine the same place in a time of war. The charred bones of the houses protruding from the frozen pits where the bombs had fallen, the scrawny stray dog, sneaking in the shadows with its tail curled under a hollow belly, and the stench. The stench of gunpowder, cold ash, and the greasy breath of death lingering in the air and following your every step, sticking inside your throat and makes you wanna puke. — same place, different setting.

When I write, my process includes Aeon Timeline as a tool for creating the outlines of my stories. AT works seemingly with Scrivener, but until now I couldn’t figure out how to synchronize the General Meta-Data > Status field in Scrivener (shown on the right,) and the same field from inside the Aeon Timeline project.

Recently, I found a solution, with a little help from a friend.

To fix the issue do the following:

Without Notice

Sometimes the Reaper comes without notice.

My story “Without Notice” just went live on Amazon. I couldn’t be happier about it.

Buy on Amazon

In the small-town LeMelle, Deep South, the day begins as usual for Verna–a chatty, small-time waitress at Chez Antoine. On the outside, she’s as cheerful as one can get, but hidden behind the facade lies a scarred soul, tormented by a terrible secret.

So when the doorbell jangles and a charming stranger crosses the diner’s threshold, Verna excitedly welcomes him, until it becomes clear that he knows more than he should.

Soon she realizes that her ordinary day is about to turn into a nightmare and she will have to gamble with her soul…

Muse

Someone asked me ‘What is your muse?’.

Well, most of you would expect something like this:

 

Unfortunately, my muse doesn’t come even close.

Haiku 57

Solar wind blazing
last breath of a lonely star—Death
rises to meet me

M
A jisei (death poem) from my upcoming novel.
Eat me!
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