To learn more about the FORGED series, visit the Table of Contents.
A look into the world of the FORGED series
One microdose at a time
What started out as a way to engage with fellow Substackers has turned into a helpful tool during my editing process. I watched the daily prompts from of (being the lurker that I am) for a couple of weeks.
I loved how each writer created a unique take on the suggested word, so on July 8th, I hopped on the bandwagon. Random date to start, I know. Mondays are good days to start building a new habit, right?
One thing … I needed inspiration for what direction to take with the daily prompt.
Since I was chin-deep in the process of incorporating the line edits from my publisher, Provender Press, and knowing that I struggle to read more than one story at a time, I decided to try my hand at using the prompts within the world of Tessa, the main character of the FORGED series.
I hope these microdoses of Tessa’s world will act like Megestrol or Cannabis on your appetite. Make you want to learn more—magnify your desire to read Shattered, the first book in the FORGED series, which will be released this fall.
Come back next week for an analysis of what I learned. (Writers, steal my process! And let me know how it works for you.)
Enjoy!
7/08/24: WHEEL / 50 words
Tessa closed her eyes and sighed, weighted by the impossible decision. Completing the mission would give the Underground exactly what they seek—evidence to overthrow the Ryker administration. But was the Underground any better than those already in power? Perhaps a spin of the wheel would offer the correct answer.
7/09/24: MAP / 50 words
Depression was like having her feet stuck in mud. Even the experimental treatment Dr. Weaver used to speak with Tessa’s subconscious wasn’t helping her along the path. Perhaps what Tessa needed was a map to find her way.
No. What she needed was for the accident to not have happened.
7/12/24: ROUTINE / 100 words
Tessa turned the mid-flight corner, and there he stood–casually leaning against the wall, oblivious to students streaming past him. Isaiah was watching for one person only, and his face broke into a lopsided grin as his eyes locked with Tessa’s.
Warmth spread through Tessa’s chest. Dare she hope this was more than a coincidence? That this pattern–this waiting for her, eating lunch together–was a new routine for Isaiah because he chose to befriend a “stick” from the Wilds, an outsider who felt awkward in the technofiend urban center. Tessa found the blossoming friendship a surprising perk of her new life.
7/13/24: REFLECTION / 50 words
Pressing her forehead to the cool surface, Tessa blinked her eyes open. Beyond her ghost-like reflection, a blur of desert scrublands zipped past the speeding train. A monochromatic dusk sky stretched from the horizon. Barren, untamed, exotic. An alien landscape so different from the dense, forest-covered hills of her childhood.
7/15/24: FACADE / 100 words
I approached the abandoned building–more vegetation than recognizable structure–mindful of where I placed my feet. These remnants of humanity dotted the landscape, transforming the Wilds. What once had been tamed was now a mystical sculpture garden.
A flash blinded me. The last rays of the sun reflecting off a glass shard indicated an opening in the facade, like a shy toddler hiding behind a parent’s leg. That would be my access point.
I pushed the trailing vine and peered into the gloomy space. Darkness swallowed up the interior. From somewhere in the shadowed depths, a low growl broke the silence.
7/16/24: BOTTLE / 60 words
Tessa felt the familiar ache–anger, sadness, guilt–swirling like a personal maelstrom. Dr. Weaver said not to bottle up the emotions but to embrace their ebb-and-flow. And like a real-life whirlpool, Tessa needed to use strong strokes to move with the emotions. Undulate with their swells. Find the edges of grief. Duck under the roiling emotions to find a calmer mindset.
7/18/24: COLLECTION/ 70 words
Faces blurred in and out of focus. Haunted by a collection of contradictory images, an idea took shape—materializing in the haze of disordered thoughts. As much as the notion frightened Tessa, the puzzle pieces fell into place. The images filled in with details. Disjointed snapshots became a stream, a video playing back to connect all the stills.
But if she hadn’t lived these memories, then whose memories were they?
7/21/24: GRIME / 50 words
The sound caused Tessa to skid and reverse directions. The boy’s shaggy blond hair hid his expression, but his grime-covered knees confirmed he’d fallen. As Tessa squatted down, the boy shoved her, running ahead. His cheerful giggles proved that he’d known her weakness–her willingness to sacrifice herself for him. Always.
7/22/24: CHAPTER / 60 words
Tessa shook with sobs, reliving the moments that had changed her life forever. She held her knees tightly to her chest and felt the protective weight of her aunt and uncle's embrace calm her.
As quickly as the grief overtook Tessa, her tears dried. A sense of peace enveloped her as she readied for this new chapter in her life.
7/23/24: SCAM / 50 words
History class was like sitting through a bad infomercial. A load of crap. A scam to trick you into believing their propaganda. Tessa was sure the actual events and motivations were, well, more nuanced. Maybe someday, the other side could share their version, and the people could decide for themselves.
7/24/24: REBELLION / 60 words
Without a doubt, the Wilds were as volatile as a forest in summer, waiting for a spark to set the country aflame. The media stream attempted to mask the growing unrest with fluff stories, downplaying the acts of rebellion by the Underground malcontents, but the trick was to listen to what they did not say.
Where would they strike next?
7/25/24: TEA / 50 words
Dr. Weaver set her cup down so abruptly, liquid sloshed over the rim. The tea turned the wood grain dark, reminding Tessa of blood pooling into the dirt. The image flitted away before fully forming.
“Tessa, your family’s death was not your fault.”
Then why did the guilt crush her?
7/26/24: HEARTH / 80 words
She closed her eyes, forcing out a slow breath. It wasn’t an accident, she thought. Planned. Orchestrated. Not by her. She was a pawn. A sword held by someone else. Wielded for their own gain.
And like high-carbon steel, heated in a blacksmith’s hearth, she had been forged, hammered into shape for this purpose. Sharpened and honed for execution.
Had she known this? Maybe. More importantly, now that the truth was revealed, what was she going to do about it?
7/27/24: DRAFT / 80 words
Tessa scooted closer. The scraping of the chairlegs sounded like a knife’s edge pressed to a rotary grinder. A cold draft raised goosebumps on her arm, and she shivered.
The student beside her bounced their leg violently, rattling the table. Others shifted in their seats, rubbed hands on bare skin. After enduring the heat on the morning walk to school, the artificially cooled air was a stark contrast.
“Today, we’ll discuss the major contributors to global warming,” the teacher began.
7/28/24: PUNK / 90 words
His Adam’s apple bobbed like it was difficult to swallow. Concern etched deep lines around his eyes. He shifted, awkwardly bumping me.
I blinked, and his face was inches from mine. Hands around my elbows steadied me. Our unanticipated closeness, more shocking than the unbalanced feeling, petrified me to stillness.
His breath was shallow, hot. Then his lips were on mine–full and a bit cracked from the day in the sun.
Not what I expected for my first kiss. My face ignited faster than a firecracker lit by a punk.
7/29/24: SPOTLIGHT / 100 words
From the deep shadows, he reached up. His SynFlex climbing gloves gripped the metal bands around the drainpipe with a magnetic snap. Three meters from the ground, he stopped–sensing rather than seeing a security camera–and stretched to the side to grab a window frame.
How did he know where to go? The ambient light in the alleyway obscured all details in its monochromatic darkness. And yet, he instinctively knew the path to scale the side of the building.
Though the lighting in the alley never changed, the next handhold lit up in his mind like a spotlight shone upon it.
7/30/24: EMBRACE / 70 words
Laughter bubbled out, and Tessa’s shoulders felt lighter. The realization struck her as odd.
I’m happy. I’m laughing. Mamá would never laugh again.
Tessa knew her mother’s death was not her fault, yet guilt rippled through her like an anchor dragging her down to the ocean floor. Her lips quivered. Her hands shook. She wrapped her arms around her middle, aching to feel her mother’s embrace just one more time.
7/31/24: LIGHTHOUSE / 100 words & 8/1/24: BOX / 80 words*
*I missed submitting the daily prompt on the 31st, so I combined two day’s worth of prompts as one entry.
The assignment was the shits. He wanted to be on the heist team. That was where all the excitement happened. Instead, he was stuck on his ass waiting for the transporter to pick up the goods
The lame middleman.
He glanced in the rearview mirror at the stacks of boxes filling the truck’s bed. He knew inside the unmarked cartons was precious cargo. Four hundred and thirty-two Omnibands, the latest wearable tech from SynFlex Corp, were nestled in the boxes, on their way to be repurposed for the Underground.
“Take that, t-urbanites!” he muttered with a small sense of satisfaction.
A knock on the glass made him flinch. He rolled down the window and was assaulted by the coastal wind. The salty brine was sharp in his nostrils.
A man bundled against the gusts yanked his hat lower, shielding his eyes and obscuring his face. “Excuse me, ché, where’s the best place to see the storm?”
“From the top of the lighthouse,” he responded, internally cringing at the absurd code required to verify identities.
The pick-up man was here. Finally.
8/2/24: CRISIS / 80 words
The Great Changes decimated life as we’d known it.
Seismic activity, storms, and illness killed millions. Unrest and conflict over the lack of resources made centralized government impossible. The crisis escalated when the President was assassinated, crumbling the federal government.
For two decades, survivors struggled. Utility directors–controlling the literal power–ended up with the figurative power. Life resumed under a science-forward, eco-centric government. A new utopia.
Except that things were unraveling.
Would the growing discontent in the Wilds spark another cleanse?
8/3/24: CLOWN / 60 words
The clamor of students reconnecting created a cacophony that pulsed. Strobed like the twinkle of fireflies in the forest. Or like the fluttering of nerves inside her.
Tessa wiped sweat from her palms. The well-worn fabric was soft, comforting. She glanced down. Her plain dress looked drab–out of place–compared to the t-urbanites and their clown-like fashions.
Homesickness washed over her.
8/4/24: DRIZZLE / 80 words
A storm brewed to the west. The clouds parading across the sky were dark, billowy anvils. The wind whipped through the trees, kicking up dust and debris. The skirts of the willow trees danced in the gusts. Wind chimes rang—loud and urgent, their chaotic tones announcing the approaching storm.
Tessa sensed what was coming wouldn’t be a gentle drizzle but a deluge.
Just as she worried the growing unrest in the Wilds would overwhelm the fragile balance in the country.
8/5/24: ROOF / 50 words
A thought poked at the back of Tessa’s mind. Revealing the GEN 5 progress during the Climate Summit to top scientists from all the zones and other countries seemed logical. So many important people. Under one roof. Yet the timing felt significant. Ominous.
Why?
The reason hovered out of reach.
8/6/24: HUNGER / 100 words
Dr. Hernan’s slicked-up dark hair swayed as he paced the front of the room. He moved like a python propelling through the grass. Wiry and slight in stature, his aura filled the room with pompous arrogance. “Many of you—in fact, I would guess all of you in this class—have benefited from genetic advancements. From fewer illnesses to boosted intelligence, your DNA has been”—he paused and deliberated his word choice with a maniacal grin—“enhanced.”
His voice was as syrupy as his persona. His beady eyes gleamed with the hunger of a python lying in wait for its hapless prey.
8/7/24: HOME / 60 words
Broken windows in the abandoned high-rise buildings glinted in the setting sun, twinkling like fireflies. The decimated buildings were home to the ghosts of past generations. Resting in the watery grave–a flooded city–they were too hazardous to explore and yet beautiful in their own enigmatic way.
Tessa wondered if those who’d walked their halls considered them deathtraps too.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to When in Doubt, Walk in a Circle to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.