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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 9h

From the final book of my YA fantasy trilogy. Chapter is 'Butts and the Art of Diplomacy' and I promise the butt thing makes sense 😉 I love a dumb chapter title #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Shut your flap, Bert." She looked him right in the eyes. Her mouth was still smiling, but her eyes made her message clear.
He shut his flap.
"I am telling you to take a knee and bow to my father. That's what I am telling you." She paused a moment. "What I'm actually telling you is don't you dare do that. Refuse and don't back down. If he pushes you far enough, recount the words of the document we sent promising your safety. Loudly. Do you understand?"
"Sana. Touch my butt."
Quiet laughter escaped her mouth. "You freak. Your princess not taking care of you?" Still, she lightly ran her hand on his backside. She nodded. "Even better, pretty boy." She turned them back towards the High King. The man sat as if he was waiting for a ferry to arrive rather than dealing with the future of his realm.
"Well, boy," he spat. "To the ground with you. Take a knee. Did my daughter instruct you properly?"
"She told me to take a knee," Bert replied.
"Let's have it then."
"No," Bert said quickly. "I acknowledge you are the king of Ironwall, your majesty. However, you are not my king, and I am not here to beg something of you. I came at your request. I am here and ready to talk. I am not your servant."
Sana nodded just slightly enough that Bert was sure no one else noticed.
"Guards!" the king shouted. "Lop off this filthy boy's head and send it back in the boat. I'll take tea in my rooms."
Several guards approached from the edges, hands on weapons.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

Another one from early in book 1. Book 3 of the trilogy is my WIP. Bertram has to choose to join in their plans or not. Spoiler: he does, or the book wouldn't be very exciting. 🐉🏰👑 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

“Well, Catrin,” Eldritch replied. “I suppose we’re just letting the boy know how we feel about our precious little thronewarden from the outset, eh?”
“Your pardon, Eldritch, but I bear no love for the man either,” Bert risked. “He was going to send me to waste away in a mine. I appreciate both of you standing up.” He felt sick that he was speaking at all. He considered what his betters in the abbey would think of him sitting here now. He had been carefully trained to be silent, especially among anyone above his rank—which was to say, basically everyone.
“Well said, lad,” Eldritch replied. “I suppose you are a part of this now, after all. I’ve brought you in. You seem to think it a rescue of some sort, but it may end up being anything but.”
Catrin regarded Bert carefully for a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Her face gave away nothing, but her eyes seemed to be examining his very soul, measuring it against some unknown ideal. Just as Bert thought he would crack and look away, she spoke. “I suppose if this boy will be working in your tower, it is only fair we include him in our plans.”
It chafed Bert a bit that she called him a boy. They were the same age! He hadn’t missed the mention of her betrothed, either. Sir Darian Storme was certainly no boy. Four or five winters older than Bert, the man had been the only one to stand up to Crowe at Catrin’s nameday tournament, nearly beating him in the melee. Still, Bert understood that Catrin had lived much more of an adult life than he, and he wasn’t going to challenge her, having just met her. He could stand a little talking down.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 28/09/2026

Bertram attends a tournament. ⚔️ From early in book 1 of my YA fantasy trilogy. Rererereading book 2 now before editing 3. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

14: Melee
Bert found a spot in the stands that had a good view of the melee, which was just underway. The melee usually consisted of two teams, but today had a twist Bert hadn't expected. The two teams wore armbands of red and blue, as always, but today they also had dragon regalia and crow regalia. Bert was happy to see Darian with a blue band on his arm and a large blue dragon on his chest and cape. As the betrothed to Princess Catrin Wyrmblessed, it would have been a scandal for him to fight for Crowe. Catrin's clothing and jewelry choices suddenly made a lot more sense.
Both sides had ten fighters, but it didn't take an expert to realize the Crows were better armed.
Many on the Dragon side were wearing boiled leather armor with the odd bit of metal to help protect key areas like their heads. Even with blunted swords, they would feel powerful hits much worse than the fully armored Crows. Most of the Dragons were also older men—soldiers and guards who Bert had seen in the town his whole life. The Crows were mostly middle-aged men, in the prime of their fighting lives, a combination of strength and experience that would be tough to beat. Many bore scars on their faces, proof of battles fought and won.
Some saw scars as a sign of defeat, but Darian had told Bert otherwise. "If you escape a battle with a scar, it's likely the other man escaped with much worse, or didn't escape at all." It gave Bert a new appreciation—and fear—of the Crows.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 27/09/2026

From my first novel, Solar Umbrella, hard sci-fi. WIPsnips recently showed me I used diffuse/defuse wrong and it caused me to spend tens of hours going through and fixing rookie mistakes, which I enjoyed. I promise the pizza makes sense #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Alex continued his travel, and Al chimed in, letting Parker know it was his turn. Parker once again marvelled at DJ and Kate's work, as his display lit up the exact places he was to put his tether, lifeline and even hands and feet. He thought about mentioning it to Alex, but decided to let him focus. The plan was for Parker to sit just inside the edge of the airlock, ready to head out and help if absolutely necessary. Otherwise, he was to sit in the relative safety and just wait.
Fen chimed in over his headset. "Sit right there, Parker, Alex is almost in position."
"Understood," Parker replied simply. There was about a three second delay at this point, so he tried to keep it quick. Talking back to mission control or Earth was a little annoying, but he had gotten used to it quickly. He wanted to let everyone focus on Alex and the welding. As he waited, he took a moment to look out at space again. Beautiful, surely, but also...nothing. He was once again filled with that knowledge that the Earth was what mattered. Space had, in a way, been the focus of his life. In reality, it was just a means to an end. The Earth, the people, music, the cultures and food. History, art, lakes and rivers, mountains, animals. There was so much to appreciate on Earth. So much to learn and see and do. And it was all at risk because a bunch of so-called elites had consistently sided with a few percentage points more profit over all the amazing things the planet had to offer. It infuriated him, but reignited the fire to get this done. There was no other choice. "Hey, Fen, do you want to get pizza when I get back?"
"I'm thinking no, Parker," she replied.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 26/09/2026

From my second novel and the most difficult I've written to date. The Travelers is a direct sequel to Solar Umbrella. It's the only book I've written with multiple timelines and multiple POV's, which was a challenge, but fun. 🌍🚀🪨 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Tea for Four
My goodness these humans are emotional, Elizabeth thought. And these bodies are so...gangly.
She walked down the stairs, such an inefficient way to travel, turning her head to ensure the two were following. Protocol suggested they would want to ingest food, beverage or both as they communicated. Her mind settled on tea. It would match her persona and settle their nerves. Waking them the way she had was a mistake. She should have observed longer and waited for their rest cycle to complete. Sloppy work, but the situation was under control now.
Yan was sitting at the table, but he was facing a wall instead of looking inward to where the others would soon sit. Why does he have to do everything the hard way? she thought to herself for what seemed like the millionth time. He looked like Parker and Kate otherwise, despite his strangeness. He was wearing a red checkered shirt, but the buttons weren't done up correctly, leaving a gap at the top where his black chest hair was poking up. She noticed that his shoes were on the wrong feet as well. I thought I was sloppy, he looks like a child dressed him.
"Please, have a seat Kate and Parker," she motioned to two of the chairs at their table. "I will prepare tea for us all. This is my partner, Yan." She nodded towards the other chair. "He was just about to turn his chair the proper direction to chat with us."
"Yes, hello, yes!" Yan said much too loudly as he turned his chair. He took way too many steps as he turned it around, lifting and putting the chair down again at each small rotation rather than doing it all at once. His smile looked human at least, his white teeth inviting conversation. His face was plump but not fat, and his black hair accentuated his East Asian features.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

Bertram is learning that the big bad of the trilogy isn't just some maniac causing chaos and is questioning his own actions. 👑💭🐉 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

It was finally starting to click for Bert, albeit slowly. "So, you broke the peace to have the dragons come south with the Wyrm People."
"Yes," the king agreed.
"And then what?" Bert asked. "They would attack northern towns and cities like Wyrmgate."
"Yes."
"And a vicious battle would take place between people like Crowe, Eel and the others. People would fight and die. Cities would burn."
"Perhaps," Kaemon agreed.
"Game pieces that needed to be cleared," Bert said. "Only they're not pieces. They're real places and real people."
"That's the game, I'm afraid," Kaemon said.
"And then what?" Bert asked, although he knew the answer. Just like the game, the Shepherds were a distraction. The important pieces were lying in wait.
"Well, then someone would need to put an end to these vile Shepherds. Someone would need to forge a new peace. A true peace between the north and south. Someone needed to bind the nation once and for all. And why not a descendant of King Kaelen the Binder, eh? Why not old Kaemon, the High King?"
"I see," Bert said simply.
Sana put her hands on Bert's shoulders. "It's not the way I would have played it, but I understand his plan, Bert."

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

Really surprised I didn't have meddle. Here's some vibes. Wizards in this world are non magical, but rather engineers, scientists, etc #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

As soon as they stepped off Yellow, the aged wizard popped up from the staircase leading to the tower top. “Bertram! Cat! Happy to see you back. It’s been quite a lot of hubbub here since you left,” Eldritch said, smiling through his beard.
Cat dropped her bundles and ran over to hug the man. Bert came and gave him a friendly handshake. “We need to get you out of here,” Bert said.
“Ah, nonsense. I’m perfectly safe, and I’ve been messing with our dear Thronewarden. His first execution was scrubbed when someone burned down the gallows. His second victim was released from prison early. A forged document of some sort! Outrageous.” He laughed loudly.
“You old jester!” Cat laughed. “If all goes well, we’ll be back with you soon anyway.”
Eldritch reached down into the stairwell and removed an incredibly long wooden pole.
Cat looked at the wizard, smiling and shaking her head. “How did you know I’d need this?”
“A wizard has his ways,” he replied, raising his eyebrows.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

You might be thinking I found topple here and just picked this snip for the stupid chapter title. You'd be correct. From the final book of my YA fantasy trilogy. Currently rereading book 2 before I edit this one. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

10: Butts and the Art of Diplomacy
The boat came to a sudden stop and Bert toppled from his empty barrel. He knew the line was running out, but assumed they would slow the barge, or transfer it to a new line or something to make it less jarring. As he stood from his knees to the chuckling of soldiers and guards nearby, he realized they had likely done it on purpose. A quick glance to Sana told him he was right. To the average onlooker, her raised eyebrows were probably unnoticeable, but Bert had spent a lot of time with her. They had been imprisoned together and forced to work. They had sparred with words and swords. They had laughed together and learned together. They were family. She looked a lot different than the Sana he was used to, but he caught the eyebrows. They sent a clear message: sorry.
Bert chuckled a bit himself. He had learned enough from Sana herself, as well as Dray and Cat, to know what all this meant. They were scared of him! They sent him—a kid from Wyrmgate—an invitation to treat with the High King himself. They had promised his safety. Now, they needed stunts like this to try and even the field. The High King couldn't be seen as an equal with Bert. Bert grinned as he picked up the staff, and removed his hat to sit on the barrel and await his audience. He straightened out his sky blue Wyrmgate cloak, making sure the dragon would be visible to anyone looking.
Bertram Dragontongue was here to have a chat with the king of the realm.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 22/09/2026

From my standalone ya sci-fi, Generations. Not quite meltdown, but certainly vibes. 💥🚀 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

He walked quickly over to 98 and Harriet.
"Come here, kiddo," 98 said, pulling him in for a hug.
Max held on a little longer than he would have thought. The hug warmed him and gave him a moment to relax. Even though he had been doing a lot of this on his own, he needed moments like this with people who cared about him. People who saw him as Max, rather than a tool for revolution or a short-cut to the Pilot's daughter.
"Okay, okay," Harriet said. "You can get a little love here too."
Max laughed and walked over for a hug. "Thanks, Harriet."
"Say, have you been working out," Harriet asked, squeezing his arms, "or has the prison food thinned you out?"
"Very funny," Max replied, but smiled, letting her know it was all in good fun. "Seriously though, do you guys know what's going on here? Have you heard the plans these guys are thinking about?"
98's face got serious and she nodded, conceding it was time to talk about this as a group of three. "I know enough. I know we have Megan on one side, and that probably means careful and peaceful. My concern is it might also mean not going far enough."
Harriet nodded her agreement and took over. "Tyler, on the other hand, is such a hot-head, I'm surprised his hair hasn't burnt off. His plan is probably to turn the engines around and melt the core of the ship or something stupid. No doubt his plan is everything hers isn't. Fight, kill, destroy." She frowned. "Worst part is, it would probably work. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

Bertram and the gang have earned a celebration From the final book in my YA fantasy trilogy. I'm rererereading book 2 now in preparation for editing 3, which I finished in the summer. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Cheer up," she said afterwards. "We all have burdens to carry, but these are my people and I know them well. They will not let you rest tonight. You have rescued them and you and Smee'Fa'Ya are in for a long celebration. Tonight, we put the war behind us for a time and celebrate a different kind of victory. Fox tried to kill these people, but they live. They will want to remind themselves what the good things in life are. Food, dance, music, friendship and more. It's too bad you are so smitten with your queen, because these types of celebrations can open many closed doors, if you follow what I mean. Inhibitions tend to melt after one realizes how close to death they were." She gave a wry smile.
Bert felt himself redden. "I'll stick to the food and music."
If Mira's smiles had been rare, the laugh she gave was even rarer. "Let us take the injured on our wyrms and guide the rest to Fastriver. I do not think Fox will come back soon, but it would be a shame to ignore the possibility. Tonight, we enjoy Nature in all her glory, Bertram Dragontongue. Be ready." With that, she clapped him on the shoulder and walked towards the people waiting by the stream.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 20/09/2026

TW: imprisonment Bertram leads a stealthy rescue during a larger battle. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Looks as clear as it ever will," she said. She moved back to allow him to enter first.
He nodded. He took off his helmet and placed it quietly on the floor. He double-checked that his sword was clear to be drawn if needed. He took a deep breath and pulled the curtain silently as he moved into the room.
Alden looked up immediately, eyes wide. His mouth opened to speak until he recognized Bert and he closed it.
Bert nodded a greeting and put his finger over his mouth.
Alden copied his signal to Cat and then tilted his head towards Bert.
Bert felt the world stop as Cat spun her head to look at him.
A smile lit her face, the beauty of it shining through the black and purple around one of her eyes. Her hands were chained together and then to a spike in the stone floor. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, funny seeing you here and then winked at him.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

I like to put dumb crap like this in my YA to give the kids a chuckle. Unless it's a serious scene, Bertram always looks through the wrong side first. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

A wooden palisade surrounded the entire village: tall, sharpened wooden stakes dug deep into the ground. Platforms were raised above it at regular intervals and even from this distance it was clear there were guards in place. Bert could only make out one large wooden gate that was reinforced with metal supports and bracing. He supposed there could be smaller entrances around the wall somewhere, but it was clear the big gate was the main entrance. A well-worn dirt road led right to it.
"Take a look with your wizard's tube, Bert," Mira suggested from her position lying on her stomach.
Right! Bert pulled the long-sight tube from his pack and took a look. "Huh? The whole thing looks smaller," he replied.
Cat chuckled and took the tube from him, spinning it around and passing it back.
"Right, I knew that!" He took another look now that the two glass lenses were the right way and felt his head rush at the magnification. He began at the gate and looked around the palisade wall in both directions, but couldn't make out anything of interest. The guards looked well-rested and well-armed as far as he could tell. He scanned the rest of the town as best as he could, but the buildings covered much of what was happening. "Mira, you have better eyes, why don't you take a look?"
"I thought you'd never ask," she replied, taking the tube willingly. She examined the area quietly. "Huh," she whispered.
"What?" Bert asked.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 18/09/2026

Wizards in my world don't have traditional magic, but rather are scientists, engineers and very careful planners 🤓 From my WIP. I try and use occupational surnames, but that's too much build. I'll have to think of something else there. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

The master builder met them as they landed, and Bert shook his hand after sliding down to the ground. Yellow seemed happy, lapping up the cool pond water.
"Well met," Bert said.
"You as well," the master builder said. "I'm Rile Builder and I've been tasked with the rebuilding here."
Bert took a moment to process this. "Oh, a pleasure, Master Builder. I am surprised Folville was able to arrange payment and have you arrive with your team so quickly."
"Please, call me Rile. You've paid enough to earn that privilege!" He chuckled as he said it. "We're following your instruction to the letter, sir. There are some complications already, but that's the way it goes when you're working with some older buildings like these. We'll get them up to modern standards though, don't you worry."
"Just Bert is fine," Bert assured him. "Folville has already given you plans? The man works quickly."
Rile looked as confused as Bert at this. "You sent me the plans, Bert. I've had them for six seasons now, but arrived three days ago as agreed."
Bert shook his head at this. "I didn't even know this place existed until a few days ago. I don't think anyone did."
Rile laughed at this. "Sir...Bert, you swore the location to secrecy. Paid me an extra fifty gold for it, in fact! I didn't even tell my workers where we were going, cost me more than the fifty, but this will be the project of a lifetime. Now that the payments are all done, I don't mind

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 17/09/2026

Bertram and the crew learn of a new enemy standing against them. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

5: The Fox
"I thought the Eel was enough," Elric said. "He was certainly slippery enough. I'm not sure I want to deal with a Fox next."
Bert realized he was the only one laughing at the pun, and earned a wink from Elric. The Fleetmaster and first in line for the crown of Keelwick had proved his merit in battles at sea and earned his place in the leadership group of the ongoing rebellion against the High King and The Capital. His fleet now held the entire sea making up the central east of their country. The man had always been fair to Bert, despite the fact Bert had been a major reason then-Princess Catrin Wyrmblessed had broken off her betrothal to Elric's brother, Darian Storme. Darian was still out there somewhere with a small force of knights. He had been drawn in by another Shepherd, Garrick Crowe. With Crowe's defeat and the loss of his engagement, the man had gone to ground and vanished. Nevertheless, Elric and Darian's parents, Queen Aldera and King Rowan still supported their overall efforts to overthrow the High King and return to peace with the Wyrm People and the dragons.
"I'm afraid we'll need to deal with many more before all this is over. Each new Shepherd we meet is worse than the last," Dray said, shaking his head. "I had hoped most of them would be stuck in The Capital with Arnaud, but it seems there is at least one more on the loose still."

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

From my WIP, needs some cleaning up (totally long, he began walked), but a fun snip. Sorry for the page break. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Rock came jogging in from the nearby buildings. "Mira says to rest and eat. In your own hut, Bert. A quick rest, mind you. We shall call you for battle planning shortly." He turned to Cat. "My lady, blessed queen Catrin. It is my pleasure to welcome you to Fastriver. All of us thank you for your work with Sable. She is precious to us, and you are forever welcome." He gave an awkward bow that, despite being totally long, looked well-practiced.
Cat curtsied in return. "As warm as welcome as I've ever had. A pleasure," she replied. "Please, call me Cat."
"I will, Lady Catrin Wyrmblessed," Rock replied seriously. He stood at attention and pointed to Bert's cabin. "Refreshments await."
Cat chuckled and nodded her thanks. To Bert, she whispered, "is he always so polite?"
Bert considered. "He's never thanked me for my work with Yellow, bowed to me, or even welcomed me now that I think of it! He'll warm up eventually." He began walking. "We should rest and eat, though. He's right. It's about to get a whole lot busier."

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 15/09/2026

From Solar Umbrella, my first novel. It's a hard sci-fi climate disaster story, which is somehow hopeful. I wrote it in 2022 as a way to deal with what we're doing to our planet. Things have only gotten worse 😞 🌍☂️☀️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"It all looks good on my end as well," Alex replied. "I've got the torch, the connectors and I'm ready to go. What d'ya think? An hour?"
Parker nodded as Alex returned the thumbs up, the signal to close up the doors and get on with the job. "Al, cycle the doors, we're ready to go."
The interior doors to the ship began to close as soon as the men clipped in and sat down on either side of the airlock. A red light blinked on the comms panel.
"Uh, computer, unmute Al," Parker spoke into his helmet. "Sorry buddy, forgot I muted you. How's it all looking on your end?"
"All green here, Mr. Eugene," Al replied without even a hint of irritation. "Local space is clear, exterior lights are lit, vitals look great and power remains superfluous, sitting at one hundred twenty-four percent."
"Well, no need to stand here pissing into the space wind, let's get a move on!" Alex shouted, pushing the final button that would drain the atmosphere from the airlock.
The two sat quietly as the air was sucked back into the interior of the ship. This was always Parker's least favourite part of any mission -real or simulated. He was nervous, but it wasn't like his nerves were shot. He knew what needed to be done, knew he had the training and had the muscle memory of doing this a million times already.

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

I was careful not to use month in my fantasy, but I had it in my YA sci-fi, Generations. Max and Harriet get a brief moment to talk without their robots monitoring them. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writingprompts #writesky

Max watched as Harriet plugged her Foreman into one that was sitting on a workbench. "This is the easiest way to program one. It copies over the framework quicker than trying to load it bit-by-bit." She took another one from a box full of them and motioned for Max to come over. "Plug in Cargo to this one."
"Argo," Max replied, walking over, his robot following along.
"Whatever, plug it in."
Max followed her instructions and watched as she pushed a button on each robot simultaneously. Argo floated down to the table, his eye-lights going very dim.
"Okay, Max. We've got a few minutes until 98 comes back." She motioned to the set of robots on the workbench. "This will take about the same amount of time. If you see any of them light up, shut up immediately. Got it?"
Max was confused. What did Harriet want to talk about? "Uh, got it."
"The burned out bay you saw, do you know what happened?"
He shook his head. Was she about to answer questions for him? He had so much to ask, but he stayed quiet and let her talk.
"There was a rebellion there. Long before I woke up. They don't talk about it." She closed her eyes, trying to remember something. "A guy named Meat—don't ask—told this other guy I worked with in my first month about it. Apparently the previous Pilot had an issue with a rebellion as well. They managed to take over an entire bay—Bay 2!

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

Fox outfoxes them again 🦊 From my final book of a ya trilogy. Done, hopefully release in a few months after editing. Reading book 1 again now. #WIPsnips #writesky #writingprompts #writingcommunity

“Mira! There’s a…” Bert trailed off as he saw an unknown man sitting at the large table, drinking slowly from a cup of water.
“Sit, Bert,” Mira said quietly. “You were saying?” she said the man.
“Yes,” he took a drink of water again. “Fastriver was attacked by a large group of men on horseback. Thousands. We had been warned about half a day early, but we weren’t aware of the numbers—they manged to conceal most of their forces in the woods south of the town. We had set up defenses expecting maybe a tenth of the numbers that arrived. Even Bee’Fa’Ga could only fight for so long. She took one of those oversized arrows to her tail.” He caught Mira’s reaction. “Relax! I rested her on an empty hill as we flew here and treated it as best I could. The healer, Nock, is looking at her now and says she will be fine.”
“Bertram, this is Spine, a wyrmrider from Fastriver,” Mira said quickly, clearly wanting to get back to the issue at hand.
“Well met, brother,” Spine said and reached his hand across the table. “Word of your deeds has reached us all.”
Bert happily clasped the man’s hand, but wanted to hear more. “How are the people of your town?”
“We sent our young, old and infirm into the woods in advance of the attack. We lost many dozen fighters, but took hundreds of theirs.” He gave a grunt and rough smile. Clearly, he was proud of how they fought, but knew their losses were great. “They didn’t kill us all. We learned later that it was a distraction. Our Earth Mother was not harmed, but she said a lean man with Fox insignia raided her home.”
Mira slammed her fist on the table. “That’s where he was!”

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Reposted by Mark Johnston 🍁

Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

Not a lot of wedges out there! From Solar Umbrella, hard sci-fi, my first novel. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Sounds good," Ibrahim said, passing Parker his plastic bin of components. "I think this is a really nuanced solution we've come up with as a team, buddy. Thanks again for letting me work with you guys."
"Uh, sure thing, Ibrahim. I think we've got it here for sure," Parker replied, nearly choking on his vexation. The fact of it was, everyone in the class wanted Ibrahim in their group. The guy came up with great ideas like the one he just did all the time. He seemed to know a little bit about just about everything and was always willing to dig deeper to learn more. Parker had his suspicions about why Ibrahim had chosen their group to join. He had his pick of the litter when they were selecting groups. DJ, Kate and Parker almost always worked together when they could, but if the group required a fourth, there was usually a rotating cast of classmates who went through. This latest project was the third in a row that Ibrahim had joined, and he seemed to wedge himself into working alongside Kate whenever possible.
Parker felt a pang of jealousy and instantly felt like an asshole. He had no claim on Kate. She was her own person who could make her own choices, not some vassal of his to command. He couldn't blame Ibrahim either. Kate was smart as hell and beautiful to boot. Her ability to work with people was an added bonus. Why wouldn't Ibrahim or anyone be interested in her? Ibrahim was also all those things, and the same age as Kate. She'd be insane not to show interest back his way, and Parker knew that was what was really driving him nuts. He reminded himself he was here to learn. Other stuff could wait.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

Bertram has to go into the belly of the beast. 😬 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Cat took over. "A runner came from the river. A message came down, written on parchment and sealed in a gold container. From the High King."
"Great!" Bert said. "So, he's surrendered. The whole thing is over and we can go back to Wyrmgate. After all this, I'm thinking about taking up baking." He was only half-joking about the baking, but he knew there was no way the High King surrendered.
"Should we be so lucky," Cat replied. "It seems the High King has some spies in our city. He knew all about the documents we were sending out today. In fact, he's requested one be delivered to him, specifically."
Bert considered this. He had been learning about military strategy from Mira, and politics from Cat and Dray. What was the issue here? If the High King already knew about all this, why did he need the document? Was it some sort of trick, or did he want to use it to inspire his own people somehow? Eventually Bert just shrugged. "So, we give him one. Right?"
"About that..." Dray said, trailing off. He pulled a sealed copy of the document from a satchel at his side and held it out to Bert.
"Me?" Bert replied, indignant. "Why me?"
"It has to be you, Bertram," Mira said. She had been in the back, quiet until now. "Please." Cat placed a hand on Mira's shoulder and pulled the woman in for a friendly hug. To Bert's shock, Mira allowed it.
"Along with the letter from the High King was one from Sana. She guarantees your safety. Cat recognizes her sigil from her ring, as do many of the other rulers here. Before she went to the wilds, she was apparently quite involved in the day-to-day operations of The Capital."
"It smells of her," Mira seethed through her teeth. "We can trust it, Bertram. Go to her."
Bert sighed, but there was nothing to consider. "Of course. I will." He took the document from Dray.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

Another one from Solar Umbrella, my first novel. I'm almost done giving this one a solid edit, as it was riddled with rookie mistakes. Still really proud of the story though. It had me tearing up at a certain part last night. 🌍☂️☀️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

“Before we begin, I do ask that you take this GABA-enhancing pill. I sent you the details earlier. We use it occasionally here at NASA before entering the sims to calm the mind,” Williams told him. Parker had done all the reading about it earlier and talked to his doctor and was told it was industry standard and perfectly safe to take now and then.
“I do need to tell you that the simulation is for you to complete, and please don’t share your experiences. They are expensive to create and as an organization, we’re fighting for every dollar we can get. No matter the results of your application, we appreciate your discretion in this matter,” Frank told him. “Just between you and me, there are actually three of them, and your answers on the previous portion determine which one you participate in. Good luck, I’ll be waiting out here for you when you’re done.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep it between us. Promise.” Parker held out his pinky to Frank, who laughed, but completed the pinky swear. Parker took a breath and opened the door to the simulator. He’d been in a few simulators at gaming centres with his family as a kid, and there had been a portable one at Boulder Tech for a few weeks in his second year, and this one looked no different. The room was about three metres cubed, with lights covering almost every surface, including the door as it closed. The lights would create the scenes, the audio coming from speakers buried in the walls. In the middle was a rig you would stand or sit in to allow you to interface with the room. It looked like the floor would give way and hold you in space with cables and thin metal arms. Haptic feedback was given through a vest, gloves and boots to make you feel you were really moving through whatever space was projected and allowed you to interact with people and objects. From

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 08/09/2026

Bertram finds himself being swayed by Garrick Crowe's words. From Peace Through Fire, book 2 of my YA trilogy. WIP is book 3. 🐦‍⬛ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

He nodded his agreement. “Brett, was it? Let a man talk before he’s imprisoned. It’s all I ask in these last moments. That someone would understand me. Someone with the mental fortitude to put it together and understand it as I have. Someone to tell me it was all worth it, even if you think I was wrong.” Crowe patted the seat once more and gave Bert a smile that seemed genuine.
Bert had imagined a moment with Crowe at his mercy. It had never been the two of them sitting by a fountain together. But, here, now, Bert felt calm, even at peace with how things were in the moment. Why not sit with the man and hear him out. After all, if they were going to turn this army around and march to The Capital, Bert would face many more men like this. Understanding him could only aid their cause. He sat.
“How much have you learned of our mission, Brett?” Crowe asked.
Bert didn’t bother to correct the man: it made no difference what name he used. “That you follow a priest who has sway with the High King. He has interpreted The Blighted Paradise to be more than just a kids’ story and thinks it’s a prophecy for the times we live in now. I was always told it was just to teach children about working together. Your animal names are based on the animals from the parable. You work to kill the dragons. You and your kind call yourselves the Shepherds of the Blight, saying you are trying to stop the dragon, just like the animals in the story.”
Crowe chuckled a bit at this, but nodded. “I can’t help but think again how I missed out on you. You know much.” The man looked to the sky for a moment, noticing the dragons swirling above him. He seemed lost in thought, but continued. “I never believed in all that, to be honest. I was never much of a religious man. Never had much room for it. You’re an orphan, are you not? That’s why the wizard took you on?”
Bert nodded.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

This one is from Solar Umbrella, a hard sci-fi that's somehow a hopeful climate change novel. It was my first novel and took two summers of work. 🌍☂️☀️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Uh, thank you, sir. John," Parker replied, getting more flustered by the second.
Bernard laughed on the other end of the phone. "Good god, Parker, we're not a military organization. It's John! I understand from Frank that your psych results lined you up for our leadership simulation. That's a tough one. I've run it myself a few times. I've managed to act fast enough to save that poor son of a bitch who's floating off to god knows where, and I've picked up the other one like you did, but I've never been able to get them both. I guess that's the point the eggheads were going for. A lot of guys try and end up killing the whole team. I'll let Frank give you the rest of the results, but I thought I'd mention that to help put you at ease a bit."
Parker could tell he was going to get along with John "the Bear" Bernard just fine. "Thank you for that. The simulation was tough, and I admit it took me a while to get back to reality, but it's an amazing piece of machinery," Parker told him.
"Indeed it is," Bernard replied with pride in his voice. "Cost us a pretty penny to code and build, but it'll be worth it in the long run. Listen, I've got a job for you if you're interested..."
Parker didn't need to hear anymore. He knew he wanted to work for NASA, and he could tell that Bernard was the real deal already. "I'm in," he replied.
"God damn, kid. Let me finish," Bernard continued, but with a jovial tone. "I'm sure you've heard about the space elevator in the Pacific. It's getting close to finished, and all the groups involved are leaning towards a government administration to run it. We won't own it, since we didn't contribute much. Hell, they'll probably call it the Doritos Cool Ranch Space Elevator or some bullshit, but they want a group of space administration types to work schedules, help fix any issues and massage the egos of the various groups. It's an important gig, and I want you to be a part of it on the NASA end."
Parker processed what he was hearing. It did sound li…

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 06/09/2026

Chonky one right from the start of book 3, final book of my YA fantasy trilogy, which is done! Need to edit, but that can wait a little while school starts up. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

1: Puzzle Pieces
Bert had awoken briefly after his ceremony, but he was in no state to talk. Besides muttering, I know how to bring about peace, he had been unable to share what else he had seen while under the influence of the solhara. He had a fever and was in and out of consciousness.
The Earth Mother was tending to Bert herself, and Catrin would not leave his side. Mira had taken off to collect Nock to see if he would be able to help Bert somehow.
“Never?” Cat asked for the hundredth time.
The Earth Mother shook her head. “Never, as I’ve told you, child.”
Dray placed his hands on Cat’s shoulders. The gesture said, be easy. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, Catrin,” he said. “Always it’s the same. We wake, tired, but full of a new sense of self. The things we see are private, but always of the same sort. Potential futures for ourselves, jobs we could do or the man or woman we will become to do our part for the Wyrm People and the wyrms themselves. Besides feeling like you have missed a night of sleep, I have never seen someone with an illness or fever like this before.” He raised a hand to stop her interrupting him. “And, neither has the Earth Mother. The two of us have seen a lot in our days. Surely we would know if this was a natural occurrence.” He looked to Bert, lying still on the large stone.
Cat let out a sigh. “Then, why?”
Dray shrugged and didn't answer for a moment. “Look to Smee’Fa’Ya,” he said quietly.
Yellow was lazing, his large head resting on the longest stone in the circle. It was the only one fully off the ground, suspended between two huge stones balancing it. His eyes were just barely open, resting while he seemed to listen in to what was happening.
Cat shook her head while she wiped Bert’s head with the bottom of her shirt. “What about him?”
“The wyrms have a sense of these things,” Dray replied. “If Bert was in danger, he would be protecting Bertram, even against us. The

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 05/09/2026

Catrin sneaks around, trying to figure out what the noises coming from the castle ruins are. From book 1 of my YA fantasy trilogy. Book 3 is my WIP and I'm done first draft 😊 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

38: Shutters
Bert could wait no longer. He put his hand on the wooden panel that was acting as a door to their hut in the middle of the Castle Tall Tree courtyard when he heard a light tapping at the window. He had latched closed the wooden shutters in a hope to dull the constant noise from the tower. He went over and unlatched the shutters and was greeted by a lovely face.
Cat. Finally!
"Get in here! Get to the door, hurry up, it's been forever," he said. He assumed something from the feast hadn't sat with her right, but didn't want to ask. He started to walk over to the doorway, but turned as he heard Cat collapse on the floor—she'd squeezed in through the window! "What are you doing? Are you okay, Cat?"
"Hush, I'm fine," she whispered. She started to take off her clothes, realized what she was doing and stopped. "Spin around. Hurry up!"
He did as she asked, sighing. He wanted her to get to the point already. What in the name of the High King was she up to?
"Get in your bed right now."
"What?"
"Get. In." She practically hissed it at him.
He sighed, stripped to his underclothes quickly and slid under his sheet just as the canvas at the door began to open.
A middle-aged woman with long brown hair and a circlet of flowers in it peeked in. "Dray sent me to check if all was well before we seal up the castle for the night," she said lovingly.
"Yes," Cat replied, yawning. "Thank you for checking in with us. Sweet dreams to you."
The woman smiled and did an awkward curtsy, clearly not used to the action. "Thank you, Princess. May the Earth Mother bless your sleep. And yours as well Mr. Bertram."
Bert nodded his thanks and watched as she carefully closed the canvas. He looked to Cat, but she shook her head and placed her finger over her mouth, letting him know to stay quiet.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 04/09/2026

Bertram's getting tired of getting outfoxed. 🦊 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

“It would be our pleasure,” Bert said. He reached out a hand and she collapsed into him, allowing him to take her weight. “Time to hunt a Fox. Again.”
“Again,” she agreed.
They mounted their dragons who reluctantly took to the sky. It didn’t take long for them to spot Fox, as he and what was left of his force were standing stock still atop a stone covered hill not far away. Mira called down to the cavalry who had agreed to follow and she and Bert set a course directly at them, keeping high to avoid the oversized dragon-killing bows.
As Yellow gained height, Bert saw why Fox wasn’t moving. A third force, several hundred strong stood facing Fox’s shrunken force. Primarily foot, the two groups stood looking directly at one another. Bert swore to himself. Leave it to Fox to narrowly escape defeat, only to join up with more of his force he had sneakily left behind.
But, why weren’t they joining together?
A ragtag white flag was raised from Fox’s force atop a long tree branch.
Mira flew close by. “Do we trust him to honor that?” she shouted against the wind.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 03/09/2026

I really wanted to use ballistae, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Chungus battle scene from my WIP, which is done first draft. 😊 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Follow Mira," Bert shouted to Cat, earning a concerned nod.
As Bert turned to make sure Sable got off the ground safely, he saw Fox's men approaching from both behind them and to the sides. As he continued to turn, he saw something very concerning. Two ballistas were being rolled into position to the north of them. To Bert's eyes, they looked hastily built, but secure enough to do damage to any of the dragons, who were flapping in their direction. He made a split second decision to charge at the ballistas himself. Cat was new to this and would do best to follow. Mira was effectively leading four dragons as well as the entire ground force. That left him and Yellow. He was experienced and Yellow was partially armored, as was he. He was scared, but he knew it was the right call.
As he used his legs to direct Yellow towards the ballistas, he saw the men scrambling. Sets of four were carrying the enormous bolts, while two more were winding the winches that gave the devices their power. In only moments, they would be ready to take a dragon from the air. Bert urged Yellow to cover the distance quickly. His friend seemed to sense his urgency and continued flapping, but for speed instead of height. The ground below them vanished in a haze. Bert watched as the closest ballista was being targeted right at one of the younglings. The four men had dropped in the bolt and stood clear of the device.
"Ignivar," Bert shouted as they approached, speaking the ancient command he had been entrusted with. A jet of flame released immediately from Yellow's mouth, traveling in a jet at an incredible speed before engulfing everything in flame—the device and all the nearby men. Bert and Yellow cleared the debris before the smoke was even able to rise to their level, leaving the screams of men behind them. Better these soldiers than his friends. He turned Yellow to the second ballista, but there was no need. The father of the younglings, the riderless dragon, Stree'Sta'Ba was on them already. …

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 02/09/2026

Bertram gets to see behind the curtain with the royal family. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

The guards looked shocked at the suggestion, but followed orders, taking up position outside the door. Sana walked in first and gestured for Bert to enter. As soon as he did, she closed the door and joined her father. He sat in a less ornate chair at an oak table and pointed at one opposite for Bert to sit.
Sana reached behind her and popped some button or undid some strap and her dress suddenly became larger, a corset loosening. "Thank Kaelen himself, that thing was digging into my ribs something fierce," she said. She stretched her sides and back as she said it, smiling at Bert. "You'll have to tie me up before we leave, Bert. Just the corset, mind you." She grinned, letting him know she was just playing around.
The king rolled his eyes. "The things we do for propriety, my love." He slid a mug of something across the table to Bert and drank from his own. "A round of Royals, lad?" He took out a game board and pieces from a drawer and set it up.
Bert had learned the basics of this game as a child and had spent days practicing when Yellow had taken an arrow and needed time to recover. He was pretty sure he could beat anyone at it. "Uh, sure, your majesty."
"It's Kaemon, kid. Be happy you're playing me. Filia would wipe the floor with you." The king was slapped lightly on his aging head by Sana. "Sorry, Sana would wipe the floor with you. Happy?"
Sana nodded and flopped down onto a nearby chair, kicking her shoes off. One knocked a pitcher of water from a table, but the king just smiled.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 01/09/2026

Max gets his first look at the ship outside the medical wing. From Generations, ya sci-fi. #WIPsnips #writesky #writingcommunity #writingprompts

4: The Odyssey Ark II
After spending his entire life—or at least this current one—in the medical wing, stepping into the main part of the ship was so overwhelming that it brought Max to his knees. Leaving behind the dull, lifeless hallway, the breathtaking view before him left him utterly awestruck.
The main portion of the ship was an enormous open space. Along many of the walls were thousands upon thousands of the pods like the one he had been in minutes ago. Small robots, similar to the one he now carried, floated around checking pods, adjusting things he couldn't make out. The huge swaths of pods were stacked beside each other in rows of ten or so, then broken up with enormous areas of glass and structural beams, allowing for an incredible view of space. Max realized that until now, the idea that he was in space was just something he had been told. He hadn't had any reason to distrust the girl, but there hadn't been any windows or anything to prove it to him. The view here left absolutely no doubt.
The first thing he noticed was the absolutely oppressive blackness of it all. It was so dark, he thought he needed a new word for it. Despite the darkness, it was beautiful. The darkness was broken up by the light of distant stars of varying brightness. As he continued looking, he realized the ship was spinning slowly and the view changing. Looking through other windows, he saw smudges of light and color along with the darkness and pinpoints of light from stars.
“Quite the view, isn’t it?” the girl asked. “Help him up,” she said to the doctor.
As the doctor reached down and offered Max a hand, he continued to look around the ship. Along with the pods and enormous windows, there were areas that looked like mechanical shops for repairs and construction, living and eating spaces, areas for exercise and large spaces that looked like gardens. He couldn't tell from so far away if they were for creating oxygen and taking in carbon dioxide, or if they grew food—perhaps bo…

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 31/08/2026

Max is about to be introduced to The Pilot of their generation ship. This is from Generations, scifi ya about a boy waking on a ship to "work for one year". #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Her smile faded a bit. “There’s some things about my dad that you need to know.” She walked around as she spoke, the movement seemed to calm her a bit. “He’s had some…work done. Some changes to his body. Being the Pilot is more than a job. It’s…a life. I don’t exactly know how to explain it. There’s a reason the Pilot never comes out. He or she needs to be protected from any sort of danger, obviously, but they also need to be actually in their seat. Forever.”
Max considered all this. “You mean, he’s like, connected to his seat?” Strange images flashed in his mind as to what this might look like.
“Not exactly. He’s connected to the ship though. Right to the computer. He needs to be able to make course corrections and decisions at the speed of the computer. Before we left Earth, Pilots had chips added to their brains to allow the connection. If you break that connection,” she mimicked breaking a stick in two with her hands, “that’s it.”
Max was taken aback by this piece of information. Suddenly it made sense that Sophia was out here doing all the work on the ship. It made sense that her father hadn’t been at the Launch Day party. Of course he wasn’t out here dealing with the rebellion. If what Sophia said was true, he had actually made a large sacrifice in order for all this to work. The new perspective changed the way he saw Sophia, and her father. “I think I understand.”

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 30/08/2026

gang, I did it. I am done the (very rough) first draft of the 3rd novel in my YA fantasy trilogy and it feels great. school starts up next week, so my goal of finishing before that has been met. I've never written so much without editing at all, and it's strange. #amwriting #indieauthor

scrivener totals, including 88,735 words

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 29/08/2026

No adept, but clearly Harriet is adept with the little robot. Another from Generations, not sure why so many this week. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

20: Don't Call it a Comeback
Max stood back and let Harriet work. She moved between her tablet, Argo and her own Foreman like a fox chasing a mouse through a snowy field. He knew time was tight and his meager training would have been no help to a master at work.
“Okay, we need to go,” Harriet said after what seemed like hours, but Max was sure had only been a few minutes. “I need to run to make up the time and so do you. Argo will work normally for now. It will take hours to incorporate the terabytes of data I found. Tell Argo, Alpha Harriet when you are in your bunk about to sleep. By morning, he’ll have finished the job. I’ve set a cover video for you while he undergoes that update. Once that’s done, Argo will tell you the rest.”
“Thanks Harriet, go go!” Max went to shake her hand, but Harriet pulled him in for a hug.
“This is stressful, but I think we’re doing the right thing,” she said quickly as she collected all her stuff to leave. “I’m scared, but I trust you. Look out for me, and I’ll look out for you, okay?” She let him go.
“Absolutely,” he meant it. “I promise.”

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 28/08/2026

Surprised I had this one! Argo is being snarky, as he usually is. This one is from Generations, YA sci-fi. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

“Finally, 98 wakes me up, but turns off all my speech programs, geolocking them until we reach this point. Rude! This whole trip has been waiting for your slow legs to catch up.”
“Well, so sorry, Argo! I only got beaten, imprisoned, verbally overwhelmed and humiliated by a guy hooked up to a computer and then forced into a vent like a Thanksgiving turkey to an oven. That must have been so tough to watch,” he poked Argo with a finger. “Try living it!”
“At least you got some snuggles and kisses in there, lover-boy,” Argo's eye-lights went up all the way. “Hubba hubba!” The rectangular blocks mimicking eyebrows went up and down.
Max couldn't help but laugh. He knew, deep down, that Argo was just a pile of metal, programmed by Max's hands, but he was still calming. He always seemed to have the right thing to say ready to go. He thought of Argo more like a brother than anything. “Okay, let's get moving, huh?”
At that, Argo continued moving along.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 25/08/2026

I was too lazy to deal with the page break. Bertram and Sana get a welcome sight from prison. 🔒🐉 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writingprompts #writesky

That night, their chat by the fire was interrupted by a welcome sight. Panic rose in the camp as everyone averted their eyes to the full moon. Calls of dragon rang through the camp, and Bert looked up to see what he hoped. Two large dragon shapes hovered over them, well out of arrow shot. To Bert's eyes, he made out the shape of a person on the back of the largest one. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like Mira on the back of Bee'Cay'Ra. There was no doubt they were getting a look at the camp and attempting to intimidate the guards in it.
Shouts went up from guards and prisoners alike. Guards took cover under the wall and manned the four ballistas quickly. The camp leader, in his lion cloak, climbed the tallest tower in the center of the camp, as if getting a little bit closer would give him a better view. If he was scared, he didn't show it.
Bert looked down finally to see Edward staring at him. "Why are you smiling, Bert?"
"My friends have arrived," Bert replied.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 24/08/2026

No medal, but a few awards. Near the start of The Travelers, my second book, hard sci-fi. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Got to Get Away
"Just like that?" Kate asked, a smile splitting her face in two?
"Just like that!" Parker replied, taking Kate in his arms and pulling her tight.
Kate had taken a leave from her job with the space elevator to help Parker with his legal battles. She was working remotely with her team still at the station, as well as keeping up with their friends Fen Wu and DJ who were still ironing out the exact workings of the solar umbrella itself.
"My lawyers say that the USC will probably appeal the decision and it might go up yet another level in the system, but that T. Baum guy really muddied up the works, legally. He was already the highest level court they could appeal to...probably." Parker tried to remember the exact legal machinations that had been explained to him, but he stopped really listening after they said it would be several months before anything of importance could possibly happen. "Our hope is that they just sort of leave me alone. The public has been pressuring them to do just that, and many of their companies are recording record profits. This whole thing has been just as good for them as anyone."
"Oh Parker, only you could screw over the entire industrial complex of a planet and somehow get away with it," Kate laughed as she spoke. "Do you really think it's possible?"
Parker considered how unbearable the past few months had been. He had come home a hero, had been given ticker-tape parades all around the planet, had been given fancy prizes and awards. He had shaken hands with presidents, prime ministers, first ministers, kings, queens, and some guy who claimed he was a baron. Most importantly, he had shaken hands and been hugged by regular people who told him how he had changed their outlook on

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 23/08/2026

Surprised I didn't have album anywhere. This one is from my first ever novel, which is in need of some work, but it's still a great story. I also left the 6-7 page break in there for the kids. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

They made their way down a hallway to a large dining room at the behest of a hotel worker. Parker quickly realized that the point of the meal wasn't to eat, but rather to have a chance to get all the new guests together to learn the rules and regulations before setting off on their own adventures. The hotel was pretty foolproof with an overabundance of staff. The few airlocks had permanent staffing and the guests were all informed that every square inch of the hotel was covered by security cameras—the only exceptions being their actual rooms and any communal bathrooms. The hotel had only a single excursion, but it was a pretty awesome one. You could prebook a time to head to an airlock, suit up and head out to the surface. Much of the advertising back on Earth featured two people in spacesuits sitting on lawn chairs clinking glasses. It was a must-have photo for just about every guest. Parker thought it was cheesy as hell. He was going to do it though, no question.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 21/08/2026

Bertram is getting beat at two games at once. 👑♟️ #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writingprompts #writesky

12: The Game
“Just as in our game, Bert,” the king began, “the board is not exactly as you think you see it. There are pieces in play you do not know of. Pieces I am quite sure none of your group know of.” He sighed, as if explaining this was taking a lot out of him. “I understand your motivation. I do. Some mad man sitting in his castle, protected by mountains, sends religious zealots out to stir up dragons. Old Kaemon eats roast and drinks wine while his people burn in a battle no one wanted, eh?”
Bert was trying to be polite, or at least trying to be quiet and listen to what the man was saying, but his anger was growing. “That’s exactly what would have happened! It was Catrin and I who stopped it all and saved your precious country!”
Kaemon smiled. “Ah, to have such heat still!” He took a drink before speaking. “Do you believe I let this priest—Arnaud—control what happened?”
Bert shook his head, but in confusion. “I mean, that’s what everyone thinks. Rather, what we know! The Shepherds are committing all sorts of unspeakable acts, even still!”
The High King frowned at this. “It’s true. And did no one suffer when you attacked Wyrmgate? Twice. And Keelwick. And Cadenport. Did you not burn an entire farm? Was no one hurt or killed there? Did you do no damage yourself, Bert? No killing?” The man looked into Bert’s eyes before speaking again. “Relax, boy. This is the game we play. When the stakes are high, so are the prices. It’s never truly easy, but it gets easier. We do the best we can with what we have.”
Bert sighed and frowned at this. It was so much like his own thinking of doing the least bad thing. Perhaps this man and he weren’t different. Still, a war with dragons? “Why do you allow Arnaud to do all this, though? What possible reason can you have to stir up a war with dragons?”
“It’s like the game, Bert,” Sana said, taking over. “I do not agree with my father on many things, but I have come to see his game.

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Ross Trevelyan 🗻🌲🦪🦀🚵‍♂️ @jumpintraxjack.bsky.social · 19/08/2026

#WIPSnips: anymore Warwick confronts a steward after an informant overhears the man giving out sensitive information about the Pribaltica Co.'s operations. Mr. Frew is Warwick's chief enforcer. Frew does his job in the scene's continuation. Mr. Allen ultimately does not survive the encounter.👅✂️😬

“Thank you, Spencer.”
Musgrave waited for the door to close.
“Now, then, Henry. What’s this about?”
“The wreck of the Tiberius, milord, in a roundabout way.”
Musgrave scowled. “Costly loss.”
“Indeed. I regret that a body heard Mr. Allen discussing her.”
“That so?”
“In a crowded pothouse, relating the fate of her crew, passengers, and lading to a common toper.”
The peaks in Lord Musgrave’s eyebrows sharpened, and an irascible glare speared through Allen as if through a soft codfish. Musgrave twisted his mouth into a tight-lipped snarl of contempt.
“We’ve seen this before. A careless tosspot gets corned and discloses privy knowledge.”
“And Mr. Allen knows company affairs are not for disclosure,” Warwick added, as if reminding him.
“Pox. It’s intolerable,” Musgrave muttered. “You have a family, Mr. Allen?”
“Y-yes, m-milord.” Nerves hoarsened his voice.
“Am I missing something here?”
“No, milord. A body must’ve misheard.”
“Misheard?”
“Aye, Warwick—Cap’n Warwick—is mistaken.” Allen became flustered. “I done naught agin the rules, milord.”
Musgrave shot an oblique glance at Warwick. “You warrant your informant?”
Warwick jerked his head with drama. “Yes, milord.”
Musgrave’s gaze returned to Allen. “How shall we resolve this conundrum, Mr. Allen?” His eyebrows arched as if expecting a proposal.
“I’ll take me oath, milord. If I done any wrong, ’twas unbeknownst to me. Won’t do it anymore. The drunk mistook what he heard. Drink can tilt a man’s brains, milord.”

“Perchance drink tilted your brains. Not unreasonable, considering the venue.” Musgrave glanced at Warwick.
“Had you gotten previous reports on Mr. Allen?”
“I’m afraid so, milord. Bragging about women aboard ship, another reason I requested this meeting.”
“I see. Well, we can’t have that.”
Musgrave tutted, recasting his gaze to Allen.
“This world has many unavoidable perils, Mr. Allen. Loose talk is not one of them. We must plant our seeds carefully and harvest our gains before the hares strip our fields.”
Musgrave’s eyes shifted to Warwick, then back to Allen.
“I accept your word. Now that we’ve had this conversation, I have every confidence you won’t do it again.”
Musgrave drained his tea and stood, bringing the men to their feet. He waved at Warwick with a courtly air.
“Sort this out as you see fit, Henry. I’ve got more pressing tasks. I pray you will ensure these misadventures don’t continue.”
“We shall, milord.” Warwick bowed as Musgrave took his leave. He heaved a sigh of relief.
“Let us take some grub, shall we?”
Allen sank back into the sofa looking relieved, but Cuthbert sensed a lingering tension.
Warwick lifted his empty glass.
“Mr. Lapsley, pray bring us some cakes or biscuits—whatever you find lying about the kitchen—and a fresh bottle of Schiedam genever. Short-necked grey crock with red capping. And please ask Mr. Frew to join us.”

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 19/08/2026

Bertram has to play the game royals play, with expected results. 🤡👑 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

"Do not address my daughter like that again, or I will take your head myself. Protocol be damned," the High King rumbled. Bert had been told this man was aged, and he certainly looked it, but his voice still held a power to it.
Bert smiled a bit at the threat. If it was that easy to get under this man's skin, this would go even easier than he had hoped. Still, he had been raised to be polite and respect his elders even when they were wrong. So, he would. "Apologies, your majesty." Then, to Sana, "Lady Filia Beauwall, a pleasure." He offered each a slight bow, looking straight down as he did it and rising from the bow as soon as he saw his feet. Not a hair's breadth deeper, and not a moment longer. Cat had made him practice this a thousand times. He needed to show respect to their station as royals of the city, but Bert was in open rebellion with them. This was a military discussion more than anything else. This man was not his High King anymore and if he ever became it again, they'd likely all be killed. No need for more respect than a basic bow. Bert had wanted to offer no bow at all, but Dray and Cat had convinced him otherwise. He trusted their decision.
"Take a knee, boy. Or leave," The High King said it dismissively, as if he didn't care what happened.
Cat had said this might happen. Bert turned immediately and began walking to his barge.
"Sir Dragontongue!" Sana's voice called out clearly. "A moment, if you will?"
Bert didn't turn around, but stopped walking. He counted to ten in his head, pretending to think it over, even though there was nothing he wanted to do more right now than run to her, give her a hug that crunched her ribs and tell her he missed her. "I suppose I've come all this way." He walked over to her.
Sana put out her hand. Bert wasn't sure if he was supposed to kiss it or something, but he just took it in his own. Sana did the rest, linking their arms and beginning to walk around the edge of the decking as if they were out for a stroll. …

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 18/08/2026

One from my third novel, Generations. Think I've shared this one before, but it's right near the start so no spoilers. 🌍🚀💫 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

2: Welcome
Max tried to process what the robot could possibly be talking about when an unseen door slid open on the opposite wall. Max got a brief look of what was on the other side of the door. Whatever facility he was in was just as clean and sanitary as his room. He looked to the robot briefly, but it said nothing. Moments later, a man and a girl walked in to the room. The man was tall and thin, with a closed bag in one hand and a stethoscope around his neck. He was clearly a doctor.
The girl walked in front of the doctor, which struck Max as strange. She looked about Max's age, smaller than him. She looked serious, like she was trying to prove something to someone, or perhaps to herself. Her hair was pulled tight in a bun and her face showed no emotion—her lips pressed tight together, her eyes sharp and serious. Her hands were behind her back, but she held a tablet there. Max considered talking, but decided to wait. She was pretty, but she looked strange in her uniform—like a kid trying on their father's business suit. No matter how serious she tried to look, it didn't suit her. Her eyes held more depth than that.
"Oh, the patient is awake! Can you speak?" the doctor asked quickly. His tone suggested he had done this a million times before, like he was about to run through steps he was bored of. He sighed as he leaned down beside Max's chair, placing the ends of the stethoscope in his own ears. Rather than place the large end on Max's chest, he looked toward the girl.
"I can," Max replied simply. "Speak, that is." As he spoke, he noticed the girl nod at the doctor and felt the cold metal end of the stethoscope press against his chest. Rather than bite at him, the cold actually helped clear his mind further.
"Worker seems clear-headed and docile," she said to her tablet. "Oddly aware, his eyes moving quickly."
"He's strong, vitals are clear," the doctor added quietly, speaking directly to the girl.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 17/08/2026

Bertram's control of his dragon is not exactly up to par. From my WIP. Broke 70k first draft, I think I can finish before school starts 🤞 #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

By the time Nock and Bert arrived at the site of the smoke, the fires were out and people were walking around, checking fences and horse lines. The sky darkened briefly as Yellow and Bee'Cay'Ra approached and landed in an empty bit of field nearby. Mira slid off the back of the big red dragon and walked quickly to join them.
"Yern! Take two dozen horse and follow whatever sign you can find!" she shouted to a man as she walked. The man grabbed a horse from the line, mounted it and took off shouting at others as he did.
Bert watched in awe as Mira spun one of her hands in the air and whistled a quick series of notes. Bee'Cay'Ra took off at once and began searching the nearby forest from above. Yellow looked to Bert, clearly waiting for instructions of his own, but Bert just looked at him and shook his head. He had no idea what message Mira had sent, or even the language she used. Yellow's eyelids went halfway down, seemingly in disappointment, before he took off on his own to follow the other dragon. "How did you..." he began to ask Mira.
"Not now, Bert," she grunted as she looked through the tall grass that separated their camp from the forest. Other Wyrm People were already in the trees, bows at their sides. Another group was moving through the woods slowly with torches.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 16/08/2026

I am 47 years old and for the majority of that I've known it's Sheryl Crow singing in 1999 with Prince. I have passed that fact on every time I've heard it and anyone has been around. It sounds just like her. It's so clear. Yeah, it's not her. New "fact": Sheryl Crow is a time traveler.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 16/08/2026

Sana lays down her timeline for a prison break. This is from book 2 of my YA fantasy trilogy. Book 3 just passed 70k and I wrote something last night that relates to this part of the overall story. Kismet. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

again, and I don't think Reed or I have quite the same appeal."
Reed laughed at this.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, pretty boy," she said, smiling. She suddenly seemed much more like herself. "I was told I was lucky I hadn't killed him and only bruised his knee, and ego. Had he died, I would never have been brought back at all. I'm not sure if I would have preferred that." She smiled, baring her teeth. "Still, thanks to the two of you for watching over me. I will not be a burden any longer. I give you two days."
Reed noticed Bert looking confused and shrugged.
"What do you mean," Bert asked. "Two days?"
"In two days, I will break for the gate when they release us, using whatever tool they offer us to work in the soil as a weapon, even if it's just a basket. I will fight and kill any who stand in my way and die at the point of an arrow if that's what fate has in store for me. I cannot live like this and I will not." She rolled over, back to the fire and said no more.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 15/08/2026

Definitely not a spicy writer, but I had spices! I was writing about this blockade and a few weeks later one happened in real life at Hormuz. Don't worry, I'm going to write the part of the story where it's lifted soon. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Sue Grafton stood up to speak, pulling out a map of Ironwall. “The city has always been a mix of the church and the High King’s leadership. Generally, the two forces have worked in unison all these years, with the church running the city and earning its wealth through the people. In turn, the ruling of the nation has been left to whichever High King was in place. Arnaud’s push into politics outside the city has been noticed by the people of the city and they have mixed feelings. They all attend their services and sing their hymns and nod along to Arnaud and his priests, but behind their own walls, they question his need to be involved with this war. Beyond that, they disagree with the High King’s role in it as well. They don’t understand why the war was ever started and are annoyed that it’s ended up at their door. The working people of the city just want things to return to normal. The wealthy want their spices and silk and other things we are blocking entry. The powerful don’t like being out of the game. They want to leave the city to see their allies and set up schemes and plots to get whatever piece of this new world as they can. Essentially, everyone is starting to feel the weight of this.”
Cat nodded her thanks to her old friend. “Which is to say, there are cracks we can jam our little fingers into and split open further. Any divisions we can help sow will help us in the long run.”
Elric looked at his fingers and looked like he was going to interrupt, but thought better of it.

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 14/08/2026

An unedited chungus from my WIP. Bertram is feeling a little iffy about an approaching conflict. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

38: Flight Plans
The majesty of flying with five dragons wore off after a while and Bert was starting to worry about the upcoming battle. Battle, by definition, was a struggle. Anything could happen at any moment. Just because he sat atop a being capable of tossing a fully armored knight with his horse or burning a hole in a stone wall didn't mean he couldn't die immediately due to a lucky arrow. Unlucky arrow? Bad arrow. A part of his mind drifted to Cat riding on Sable's back. Bert had at least trained carefully and been in several battles on the front line before. Cat had always stuck to her strengths, which lay in politics and leading from safety. He knew she was capable of making life and death decisions in an instant and understood that sacrifice was sometimes needed for victory, but that only scared him more. He would never say it out loud, but he knew a part of his mind would be distracted from battle, wondering how he could give her a little bit of help now and then to ensure her safety.
Mood soured, he also started fussing with his wounds. Nock had sewn him up carefully and dripped some poultice on the wounds, ensuring Bert there would be no lasting damage, but the scabs itched and he wanted to rip at the strings holding the pieces of his skin together. Yellow suddenly bounced up and down in the air, forcing Bert to grab hold of his saddle. None of the other dragons had encountered any change in the air.
Yellow's head came snaking back and he huffed in Bert's face.
Bert laughed. As always, the dragon seemed to sense his moods and knew just how to cheer him up. "I'm fine, my friend," he shouted. "Just a little worried, I think."
Yellow nuzzled him carefully, then returned his head to a better position to watch the ground and air ahead of them.
Bert used the rest of the flight to relax, close his eyes, and just allow his mind and body to get the break they needed. Yellow seemed to understand and kept the flight calm and level until they were able to see Fast…

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 13/08/2026

Bertram was just thinking he needed another mysterious stranger in his life. #WIPsnips #writesky #writingcommunity

As soon as Bert hopped off Yellow, he pulled on some of his armor. He didn't know what to expect, but taking an arrow in the back wasn't part of his plan. Yellow sniffed the air several times, and then rested his head on the ground, which seemed a good sign to Bert. "Want me to look around a bit first?" Bert asked Cat.
She smiled at him, put on a few pieces of leather armor herself, and showed him her long dagger. "I haven't spent all that time practicing with Mira to wait back here. Besides, it never ends well when people split up in the stories."
Bert nodded. She was right. "Stay behind me at least, just in case," he said.
"My hero," she replied, but stood on her toes and kissed his cheek to take the sting off. "There was nothing like this on the map. It looks old. I didn't notice any buildings anywhere around and here, and there are no roads or paths that I could spot from the sky. Very strange."
Leave it to Cat to notice things he never would have considered. "It looks like an old castle."
"Not quite, I think," she replied. "Something else, I think. Perhaps for trade? I'm sure you saw it's right on the line."
Bert nodded. "Let's check the big building. It seems to be the most in tact."
"It should be," a voice said beside them.
Bert drew his sword and spun to the sound.
"Easy, lad!" an elderly man said. "You're in my home, after all!"

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 12/08/2026

One from my least read book 😉 My first two novels are in an incomplete series. Hard sci-fi. This was the hardest to write off all my novels. Multiple pov, multiple timelines. I've learned a lot since then and should probably rework them. #wipsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

“Did you know that just one gram of deuterium-tritium fuel can create 340 gigajoules of energy? It’s four times as much as a nuclear reactor back on Earth. No joke, right? Interestingly enough, this asteroid contains several kilograms of deuterium-tritium. It will hopefully fuel the fusion reactors and engines of our future. Amazing stuff. If reacted with by our little reactor here, this asteroid would explode into a trillion tiny pieces of dust that would burn up in the atmosphere. No harm would be done to our planet, but that would be the end of this asteroid. Don't worry, we'd have time to get off. I wouldn't risk all the people on this asteroid who I love. It would take thirty minutes or so. If we lost this asteroid, I would personally be heartbroken. I have to admit my mind has been racing with excitement at all the amazing things we will make and do with this asteroid.
“But, here’s the key to the whole thing... I'm tired of being taken advantage of. So many people worked so hard with me to get that umbrella up and we had to fight tooth and nail at every single step along the way. Every time I turned around, some vulture was waiting to eat part of the meal we were trying to prepare for everyone else. People can take a lot before breaking. Keep the working person busy. Work, bills, the odd adventure. If you distract them with bread and circus, they’ll let you get away with literal murder. We saw it happen for centuries since the industrial revolution. Well, I’m here to tell you—and this is directly for whoever has sent you here—we’re done. It’s over. We’re not going back to what almost killed us all. The solar umbrella didn't just mark a new point for the climate. It’s a new point in human evolution. A move to a human being who doesn’t just scrape and claw to get by. A human who, of course, cares about themselves and their family. But, also humanity as a whole. No, we’re the greedy ones now. We want it all, and we’re going to get it. If we can’t have it,” Parke…

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 11/08/2026

Hugh Howey (Silo) developed his own writing program, because who doesn't? Neo seems to focus on ease of use/distraction-free I feel I've finally come to a good place with Scrivener and I'm not going to leave, but interesting nonetheless hughhowey.com/introducing-... #writesky #writingcommunity

hughhowey.com

Introducing NEO - Hugh Howey

Nine years ago, I wrote a blog post about my ideal novel writing tool called NEO. You can read that original post here. The problem I was trying to solve was replicating the clean, crisp workflow I’ve...

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Mark Johnston 🍁 @markjohnston905.bsky.social · 11/08/2026

Bertram, Catrin and a strange, but wise man they meet talk about second chances. #WIPsnips #writingcommunity #writesky #writingprompts

Folville placed a kind hand on hers. "I believe he will, Catrin. I truly do."
"Yes," Bert said. "Er, I believe as well. Both in Cat's father and in second chances. We have to, don't we? If we don't believe in second chances, what good is there in trying to change someone's mind?"
"Ah, and is that what you're up to out here in the wilds, Bertram?" Folville asked, his eyes wide.
"I suppose. Partly. We are trying to create peace in the land, and that means conflict. I know that also means death and destruction, but we hope to limit that. Changing minds and offering second chances is better for all."
"Well said for one so young," Folville replied, a wide smile on his face. "Could I go back...but alas!" He stood, resting his hands on the ledge of the balcony. "I know your time is short, so let's get to it, shall we? I have two things you want. I can tell you more about this place and why it's here. In fact, I am to give it to, Bertram. Maybe."
Bert was taken aback. "What? Why would I get this place? I don't understand."
"I don't either, Bertram," he replied quickly. "But it will be yours, regardless. Maybe." He smiled. "Second, I will tell you about this sword. In fact, I have the answers you likely seek right here." He smacked his hand loudly on a book, taking some of the magic out of the air.
As Bert watched, Folville slid the book into his robes and it immediately disappeared.
"Of course," Folville continued, "all things come with a price. Mine will be substantial, even for a dragonrider. Tell me, Bertram, are you perhaps a prince of a wealthy city, or the son of a magistrate or landowner?"
"I'm the son of a woodsman who died when I was young. I was raised in an abbey with the other orphans. My last name was Lorne," Bert replied honestly.
"Until he earned Dragontonue," Cat added proudly.
"Bertram Dragontongue!" Folville tested the name on his tongue and in the air. "As fine a moniker as I can remember hearing! Tell me,

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