Sonia G Medeiros is Monday’s Featured Writer on Out of the Woods

Fellow writers and bloggers are sometimes the best types of friends to have when taking your first tentative steps into the public blogging or writing world. They can pay you a compliment when you write something worth reading or make a suggestion on how to improve something that is not quite ready to be read. Sonia G Medeiros is just that type of friend and I am glad to have made contact with her. She also has a brilliant blog of her own which she has newly named Not All Who Wander are Lost. It is a fabulous place to go if you want tips on surviving the apocalypse, join a discussion about dragons or try out inspiring flash fiction challenges. I am glad Sonia agreed to be a featured writer on my blog. Below is some information about Sonia and a fantastic piece of her writing to enjoy.

Bio

Sonia G Medeiros is a writer of fantasy, science fiction, and horror. She’s the author of more than a dozen short stories and flash fiction pieces, blogs at WordPress, and is working on her first novel, a dark fantasy. When she’s not wandering along the tangled paths of her wild imagination, she wrangles home life with one fabulous husband, two amazing, homeschooled children, four goldfish, three dogs, one frog and one cat who considers himself lord of the manor.

Q&A

1)How often/when do you write?

I usually get up at 6am (although I’m working on getting up at 5am) and write when the house is quiet. During the day, when there’s a break in our daily activities, I squeeze as much writing in as I can. I write most everyday though I’ve started taking Sunday’s off to give me a little bit of down time.

2) What authors do you admire and why?

That would be a pretty big list! There are so many different things I admire about different authors and their writing. Right now I’m very inspired by Kristen Lamb and Piper Bayard. They both balance building a writing community with amazing productivity. And Kristen Lamb so generously shares her knowledge with us so that we can learn to do what she does.

3)Would you prefer to be published the traditional route or would you give self/e-publishing a try?

I used to think that traditional publishing was the only route for an author to go. Self-publishing seemed like something you’d only do when you wanted a pretty, bound copy of your family recipe book for Christmas presents or something. Of course, now traditional publishing is in the midst of a shake up and more authors are beginning to go the self-publishing route. The more I learn from Bob Mayer and others, the more attractive self-publishing seems.

  Flash Fiction Offering

This flash fiction piece was inspired by a writing prompt from Writer’s Digest: You and a friend break into your neighborhood swim club late one night to go for an after-hours dip. While splashing around in the pool, you go into shock when a dead body floats to the top. Worse—it’s someone you know. Write this scene.

The Place of Crossing

“You said you had the key.” I scanned the street. “This was a stupid idea. We’re gonna get caught. Mr. Martin’ll know you took it.”

“They’re out of town, Janie. Just–point the flashlight. Can’t see squat over here.”

I aimed the flashlight at the doorknob.

Marissa wiggled the key in the lock.

“Sure that’s the right key?”

She shot me a look over her shoulder.

“Got it.” Marissa turned the knob. Pulled the door open.

A wet, salty, beachy smell drifted out.

I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms. Scanned the street again. Nothing.

“C’mon!”

“Yeah. Okay.” I followed her inside.

The door swung closed behind us with a muffled clang.

“Check it out. They left the lights on.” She turned. Winked at me. Started pulling her tee-shirt over her head. “Just for us.”

“Weird.” I looked around. The pool was the only light in the room. The water glowed a soft bluish green. Pretty. I couldn’t make out the ceiling. It was all shadows and seemed to go up forever. The building hadn’t looked so tall from the outside.

I heard a faint rustling. Couldn’t see anything moving around. Probably the trees outside. Were there trees outside?

A loud splash and then, “The water’s damn fine! Warm. And salt water or something. No stinky chlorine. Come on!”

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. No SWAT team had come bursting in to take us down. Yet. Might as well have some fun. I shrugged out of my clothes and ran for the deep end. “Cannonball!”

Marissa shrieked as I hit.

The water closed over my head, cutting off all sound. I squeezed my arms around my legs. Waiting to hit the bottom. I didn’t. Just kept falling.

Opened my eyes. Couldn’t see anything. No bottom. No sides. No surface. Only the blue-green light all around.

My lungs started to burn. Scream. I flung out my arms and kicked.

Water thick around me. Like honey. I kicked. It dragged. Pulled me down.

I couldn’t find the surface. Was gonna drown.

I was NOT going to drown.

I kicked harder. Kicked forever. My lungs were going to explode. And then…

I came up out of the water coughing and choking. Air never tasted so sweet.

I swam for the side. Water normal now. Not thick at all.

I crawled out and lay on the side. Rough floor pressing into my belly and cheek. Tears and snot running down my face.

Never. Swimming. Again. Ever.

The water drained from my ears and I could hear Marissa screaming. I rolled over and looked for her.

She was on the other side of the pool. Out of the water. Sitting with her legs pulled up. Hands on her cheeks. Mouth wide open. Like that painting. Should have been funny. It wasn’t. She looked really scared.

“S’okay, Mariss. I’m okay. I just–”

But she just kept screaming and staring at the water.

I sat up. Stood.

Sound of sirens outside.

The swim club door swung in. Cops burst in. Like the movies.

Kinda.

Marissa screamed louder. Stopped. Started pointing at the water.

A low voice in my ear. “The war is coming.”

I screamed.

No one turned.

“They cannot hear you.”

I looked around.

A man stood beside me. Long gray coat. Covered with dust. Worn face. Heavy stubble. Bright blue eyes. “You have crossed. You are no longer of their world.”

I looked where he looked.

There were more people in the building now. Firefighters maybe. And paramedics.

One jumped in the water.

Marissa standing with the cops. Blanket around her shoulders. She wasn’t getting arrested but still looked freaked out. Really freaked out.

I wanted to yell at them. My voice came out a whisper. “What’s going on?”

The man pointed.

More than anything, I didn’t want to look.

But I did.

They pulled something out of the water and lay it on the floor. Not something. Someone. A girl. Green bathing suit. Long red hair.

“The hell? That’s not–”

“It is.”

“No! What did you do? What–”

“There is a war. We could not stop its coming here. You came to us. You were chosen.”

“What? How can I be here and there?”

“The place of crossing.”

“The what?” I turned away. “Whatever! I’m going back.” I walked around the pool.

No one paid attention to me. They all stood around the…other me. Two of them doing something.

CPR.

“This. Is. Insane!”

Still no one turned.

I looked at the man again.

“The war is coming here. We thought there was no hope. And then you came.”

“Stop it! I don’t want to hear–” I shook my head. “That’s just nuts.”

And then he was beside me. “You must listen. We have a gift for you.”

I tried to grab the firefighter nearest me. My hand passed through him. Like he was made of water. Or I was.

The paramedics were still working on (me) the girl.

It didn’t seem to be going well.

I grabbed the man. I could touch him. “Fix it! Please!”

The air shifted. Thickened. Darkened.

“What the hell is that?” Tears in my eyes.

Shadows stirred all around. Darkest black.

“There is no time for explanations. I must give you our gift. Now.”

The rustling again. Louder now.

The man put his hands on my shoulders.

The blue-green light was inside my head. Inside all of me. Cold and hot at the same time. I opened my mouth. No sound came out. Only light.

The man let go.

I fell.

Fell.

Fell.

Then I was looking up into the sweating faces of the paramedics doing CPR.

I heard the sound of a million-million blackest wings rustling.

And the screaming started.

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