The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword discussion

I suppose this shall be where I keep track of my various projects. During work hours I unload boxes at WalMart. On my own I'm in a band, working on setting up a charitable acoustic music festival in town, the techie to Rebecca Meacham (I edit her books, format them, set up her social networking, etc,) do web/graphic design for other musicians/writers/artists, and sometimes I do eventually get to my own writing.

My writing is 9 times out of ten a horror short story. Currently I'm working on a couple of those, some lyrics, and a novel (not horror, actually)

My major writing-related updates shall be kept here. This includes all of my technical work for other authors :D

Any questions, comments, or arbitrary outbursts?

12/8/12
Been helping Rebecca Meacham with her book giveaways. Was tired of writing/reading so I spent a good chunk of yesterday practicing growls/screams for my band. Then started working more on Castles (seven chapters in, 53 pages)and started getting all of my short stories together to make an anthology (44 pages in)

Now I don't know whether to work on Castles, or on the new short story "The Black."

Or... I could make myself another sandwich.
The sandwich wins for now.

Quick first draft of a scene in "Castles." Thought I would share it.

With that, Ólchobar stood once more, throwing a hand in the direction of the blonde. The young man’s eyes grew even wider with realization as he turned and ran for the door. Gluttony’s blue tongue lashed out and caught his leg before he had even fully turned.

The blonde began screaming as he was dragged towards Gluttony’s wrist, which continued to rip at skin and stretch, blood dripping from Ólchobar as though salivating. The wrist was home to teeth akin to needles. Teeth that were visibly stained crimson.

The cries echoed as the boy scraped the stone floor for a grip. As Dianam started to grab for him, a new silvery figure appeared, an older woman whose face was lined with wisdom. This figure stepped in front of Dianam and shook her head. Ólchobar would simply devour her, too.

Fingernails split and bled. The young man was back to stuttering. Gluttony grinned with its third mouth, the one normally dedicated to speech. The blonde’s foot was now in Gluttony’s mouth, in his wrist, in his arm. Dianam could make out the outline of the body as it traveled through Ólchobar’s arm. Gluttony’s entire torso seemed to expand as the sobs were muffled by the Sin’s own flesh and organs. Dianam could still make out the outline of the young man’s body. She could see his hands pressed against Ólchobar’s stomach, searching for a way out.

The Sin sat back down to his plate and began to cut his food as though nothing had happened. “Now,” he said to Dianam. “You were saying something about a trade?”