A Year of Starting With This: Idea to Execution

Hey everyone,
I haven't been using this blog since last year, which is mainly because I forgot it existed, even when I had a piece to share. Now, however, I've found something I want to work on that involves having a public platform to post my content to, so I figured I'd use my blog as that platform.

Over the next year, I'll be making posts inspired by episodes of Start With This, a writing podcast where the co-creators of the podcast Welcome To Night Vale discuss their experiences with certain topics and then give the audience things to both consume and create based on the topic. I'll be posting the results of my exercises, as well as talking about my experiences about the related topic as a university student and aspiring fiction writer. I'll be doing one post every two weeks, keeping a consistent schedule while allowing me plenty of time to work on these alongside my university work.

This episode was Idea to Execution: The many benefits of consistent execution as well as making sure you don't get so caught up in ideas that you forget to execute them. I generally make sure to write ideas down someplace so I can come back to them later, but I tend to find myself juggling multiple projects at a time without much concrete progress on any of them. That's why I stopped working on a singular novel and focused on an anthology; my reasoning was that if I finished anything, it would contribute to my overall goal. I've also gotten better with executing in general: I've finally got around to finishing some pieces just so I can put them behind me, and it's nice to say that I've finally finished something, even if it wasn't subject to all the nitpicking I'd have done if I edited it forever.

This exercise was to take an idea I had, write a piece on it in the span of one hour and put it somewhere. I chose the concept of a modern-day daughter of Ares trying to live her life despite her overbearing dad and Hera sending followers to kill her. Said daughter's characterisation is another thing I've wanted to write for a while; A badass who's just tired of all the dangerous stuff she gets thrown into and just wants to chill. As stated before, this was written in an hour, and I forbade myself from doing any editing once that hour was over, so excuse any mistakes you see.

“Hey honey, how’s it going?”
“Hey dad! I’ve been good, was about to head out to town.”
“Out to break hearts, or kneecaps?”
“Neither, dad, I’m trying to relax...”
“You say that like seeing a good fight isn’t relaxing.”
“Hey, you’re the God of War here, not me.”
“You’re my child, what’s your point?”
“I’m not JUST your child, you know.”
“But it’s sti-” Hippolyta hung up. An argument with a being dedicated to causing conflict was not how she wanted to start her evening. She sighed, threw her jacket on and headed outside.

The snow-tracked streets greeted her, the overcast sky making them a dull white rather than a more blinding shade. Perfect weather for a nice cup of coffee, but her options were limited at this time of night. She started walking, hoping that she could find a cozy place to eat in, maybe find some entertainment.
“Hippolyta, child of Ares!” She turned to find a young man staring at her, wearing a peacock pin on his duffle-coat.
“Hera sent you?” He grinned and nodded.
“Listen, I’m not really in the mood to deal with assassins right now, so I’m going to call a rain check on this.” She swung her foot into his shin, sending him crumpling in pain. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow,” she said as she started to walk away.
“No, you’ll deal with us now!” He snarled, struggling to pick himself up. “In the name of Hera, we will set right the mis-”
“The mistake that is my birth, I know. Wait, did you say we?” Hippolyta looked around for others before a loud crack heralded a sharp pain in her arm. She dove behind a fence and looked at the thankfully minimal damage.
“Your friend’s going to pay for ruining my favourite jacket!” She shouted to the first guy.
“We have the Supreme Goddess on our side! Your life is forfeit!” Hippolyta heard the sound of a revolver chamber being spun.
“Yeah, the other ones said that too!” She threw off her jacket; Fixing bullet holes in her shirt was less of a problem. She waited for the first assassin to turn the corner before rushing up to him, putting his neck in a chokehold and throwing him behind the fence with her. Another kick to the face had him unconscious, probably worse. Hippolyta looked for the dropped gun; she saw it lying in the snow, just out of cover. She still didn’t know where the sniper was, but she figured she’d find out once they took a shot. In one motion, she rolled out of cover, picked up the gun, and aimed it at the rooftops across the road. Their first shot went too high, and Hippolyta shifted her aim to where it came from before firing. An impossible shot for anyone but the daughter of Ares.

Hippolyta walked into the diner, having been denied entry from several restaurants for her appearance. Her hair was mostly free of snow, but her jacket’s prominent bullet hole raised far too much suspicion. She walked up to the counter and a concerned cashier.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Just get me a coffee.”

Join me in a fortnight for my next exercise, focusing on recognising limitations!