Yes folks I have been writing. As I have commented before I have had trouble working on one thing at a time and I have been bouncing between many bits and pieces over the past few weeks. Much of my notes have yet to be typed up but well these things happen. So how about I give you folks a new story idea? I have for years wanted to do a character who are born mute.

I am not saying she is deaf, because she is not. She simply has no voice with which to speak. She can see and hear but in a fantasy world how would one grow and what would you become if you could not speak? Could you do magic? Well here is the bit I have down now.

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Running on swift and silent feet through the dark streets, Rebecca darted down a side street and slowed. Those chasing her were fiercely loyal the their masters. They would do anything they could to wipe her from existence.

She was the last of her family and the last of her kind. At a full head shorter than the average woman, Rebecca looked like a girl just coming to womanhood. She kept her hair shorn close to her head. The dark curls were hidden under the same scarf that hid her dark skin. The invaders of her home were tall and pale-skinned with eyes that glowed red at all times. When they first came to the city the gate watch had thought they were just a new batch of the northerners come to trade furs for the scented wood of the Cinnabar trees. They were so very wrong.

She only needed to run a few more streets and she would finally be able to do finish. She would be able to do what they had started out to do. Whether it would work she wasn’t sure. She was alone now, all the others had fallen, but she had to try.

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This little bit is from a tale I have tentatively titled Muted Freedom. No she isn’t a princess or a warrior. She is something else. I plan on a cross between a priestess and a dancer. For that is how she speaks. She dances her devotion to her gods and to her people. No this tale is not making a comment about race. Yes the villain are pale skinned but they are not white in the traditional sense. They are the white of dead bones, not the healthy color of northerners.

Yes it is sad that I will have to make sure to clearly type that. But that is what authors do. We write. We write characters of many typs. And I will continue to write characters as I see them. No matter the current political correctness that people expect writers to do if they want to sell.

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