Friday, January 28, 2011

"No Fear" Blogfest

No Fear Blogfest
Writes of Passage

Let me just say that I am posting *live* from New York City at the SCBWI conference. I'm staying at the Grand Hyatt that overlooks Grand Central Station... above which is a sculpture of my good friend Hermes (or Mercury for you Romans out there). So, you know I'm in good hands.

Thank you to Dominic de Mattos over at "Writes of Passage" for hosting this "No Fear" Blogfest. At first sight, the title made me think of a line of clothing called "No Fear" and they used to have catchy little empowerment statements on them. Loved those t-shirts!

In this blog we are charged with posting a scene wherein your main character experiences fear and overcomes it. In this scene from my Caenus WIP, Caenus must mount a bull and stay on for five drops of the judges hand. This is the first competition at the games. Some have already tried and failed before him... Some simply received broken limbs for their troubles. Some perished.

Thanks for stopping by. Please enjoy the other entries by clicking through the link above.

Caenus stepped into the ring and considered his best tactic. Muscles tensed. Fists clenched. Thump-thump, Thump-thump. Thump-thump, Thump-thump. The lumps in his throat pulsed in time with his racing heart. His parched throat contrasted his moist palms as the soles of his sandals indented the sand.
The judges finished infuriating the bull. Just before they released it, they stuck it in the rear with a hot fire poker, glowing red as the evening sun.  With a cry, the bull shot forth from the corner.
Perspiration rushed from Caenus’ forehead as he sprinted to his right. The bull turned sharply in pursuit. The prince turned left then right, and then left again, the bull's nose nudging his backside. Caenus swore he felt the rough shave of teeth at his hip.
The bull’s searing breath against his lower back, Caenus performed another series of sharp pivots, but found himself cornered by the snorting steer who stopped a moment and seemed to savor its prey. Crimson eyes bulging with fury, the bull inched closer to its subject.
Caenus’ muscles twitched. He considered darting to a safer area. The bull tipped its ivory to quell the thoughts of escape. The bull inched closer, licking its chops, eyes blazing rage, cloven hooves pawing at the sand. Closer, and closer it drew.
Images of Caenus’ brothers flashed before his eyes. Then images of his father and mother. He wondered if the bull would rob him of the opportunity to see his family again. He decided not to go down without a fight.
With no other options, Caenus summoned all the courage he could muster. He balled his fists and delivered a crushing blow to the bull square in the nose. Hitting the bull with first his right then his left fist, he stopped the bull in its tracks long enough to mount its back and ride for five drops of the judge’s hand. He held fast to the gleaming ivory, but barely. Dismounting proved to be more difficult. 
The enraged bull launched Caenus high into the air. He landed on his right hip before rolling in the direction opposite the bull’s path. Rising to his feet as the bull turned vengefully, he exited the ring. Safe.
           Caenus dropped to his knees outside the ring, gasping for air 

and reason. Running his hands over his body, he uttered a breathless

prayer to the gods, thanking the Olympians for preserving him.