Ego’s Blog Challenge #3


via Ego’s Blog Challenge #3

There is a bit of madness in thinking of giving advice to your younger self because we can’t exactly go back.  It’s still a fun bit of play when you preform it because you usually end up inspiring others who are younger than you.

The truest advice I can give to writers and to my past self is : Get over yourself.

Across the board I have met so many writers that work hard to find reasons they can’t write. The reasons run from : I’m tired, I’m sad, I’m just not in the mood, my muse isn’t paying attention, I have writers block.

Since I am polite in person it’s rare that I say the kinda things I’m going to say here so prepare yourself for a lot of swearing.

I’m tired :

person arm people hand
Photo by Public Domain Pictures on

I hate hearing this because this isn’t followed by the person getting some rest. This is followed by someone kicking on a video game or TV for 1-10 hours. This really translates to I’m done giving effort for today and I need to not sound like I’m lazy. Fuck that, you are weak and you are wasting my time. Go the fuck to sleep or just say you don’t wanna write right now. Writing isn’t exactly calorie intensive.


I’m sad/I’m just not in the mood:

baby child close up crying

Photo by Pixabay on

See that crying baby in the picture, this is what I imagine when someone tell me they are too sad or down to write. You fall into one of two categories to me. One: you must be a really flat writer. You have a lot of emotion and you have trouble writing? This is a great time to write negative emotions in your story, this is the perfect time to write about loss and confusion in your story. Two: You are giving excuses. Stop that. Unless your sadness is about broken fingers then you can still write.

my muse isn’t paying attention, I have writers block:

black and white donkey head on a grey wooden fence nearby green grass field

Photo by Pixabay on

Unless you are being visited by a magical being tossing plots at you. Shut the fuck up, not only do you sound lazy but you sound pretentious as hell. Could you imagine if other careers or jobs did this? “Sorry boss, I can’t cool down the power plant. I’m just not inspired to work.” “Yes I know your store got robbed but I’ve got law enforcement block.”  You don’t need a muse any more than honestly meeting people, if people took time to interact to with others and travel all the muse in the world would be yours. Writer’s block is not a real thing, you can get into ruts and you can get a bit stuck but long periods of not writing is a choice not a conditions.


So my advice for old me? Shut up, suit up, and write.

The Tale of Tyra Stonesire

Chapter one


The rocks felt as heavy as ever, Mira held her clawed hands protectively over the single egg. The egg was the size of the large carriage and contained the only proof of her forbidden love. She smiled at the thought of the human who defied both dragon  and human tribes to be with her.

“I can’t speak much for your father but I’m really hoping that you take more after me than you do him. I’d rather not have you howling at the moon like some kind of loon.” Mira chuckled, the motion making the rocks around her clench tighter.

The egg cracked slowly, Mira moved her enormous claws away from the large egg. A form covered in clear liquid claw it way out of the massive egg, it was covered in a white fur that matched her scales. Brown spots dotted its form, small white horns  crowned it’s canine like muzzle.

“My daughter looks like a cow.” Mira chuckled while stroking a claw over her newborns head. The hybrid immediately latched on her finger with surprising strength, she clung tightly and wagged her bushy tail.

“If only your father could see you, he would brag so much about your appearance. ‘Hur hur hur dragon blood isn’t that strong, my daughter chose the best bloodline’ or some other nonsense.” Mira rolled her eyes and she plucked a few large bats from the cieling of the cave along side the mushrooms  that grew in the cave.

“Now what do you eat, Tyra? The daughter of a lycanthrope and a moon dragon.” Mira watched her daughter carefully as the youth  picked up one of the bats and the mushrooms.

The bats screech and struggled as Tyra stared with her red pupil-less eyes, she screeched back at the bat. There was pulse of energy between the two before the bat flew away, Mira shot the child a questioning look as  her daughter took sniff of the mushroom.  Mira look of questioning became one of confusion as Tyra put the Mushroom on her horns and ran around the cave barking.

“You are your father child. Absolutely.” Mira remarked and placed her massive head close to her daughter. “Dragonkin are often far more powerful than their parents but those are usually pairings of human and dragon. You are something unique even among those creatures.”

Tyra stopped her playing to regard her mother, the massive dragon was sealed into the stone around her. Tyra took in her surroundings, the smell of blood was strong  almost suffocating but that was nothing compare to sight that was revealed by the small lines of light leading to the surface.  Cracked open eggs littered the floor, skeletons and shriveled up dragonkin dotted the floor. Blocking the exit was a massive brown furred creature, its hands were embedded in the rock but its face was a gentle smile.

“Tyson Stonesire and Mira Stonesire, we loved you and all of your siblings but we could only save you. Sweet daughter, do not weep for us and do not take on our burden.”

Tyra watched in confused horror as the white dragon pulled itself from the rock, blood and gore trailed the upper half of the dragon as she crawled to the other side of the room. Her last moments she embraced the werewolf before they both vanished in the light her her magic,  the only evidence of their existence was glowing amulet in the shape of dragon scale. Tyra picked up the amulet, it was a warmth to the touch and it smelled like her mom.