Feeding the Writing Addiction

Lemons, burning Life's house down...

2011-08-11T08:35:00.001-07:00

Sorry I haven't posted in a long time. Things have gotten kind of crazy again. I guess the washer is to blame partly...

We had an incident around the house recently, involving the washer and dryer. The dryer has been broken for a very long time. The timer doesn't work, so it stays on the wrong heat setting and doesn't beep to tell me when the clothes are dry. This has caused many of our clothes to shrink, but I've been trying not to complain and to just deal with it. However, a few days ago, when the washing machine began to smoke, we came to the realization we needed a new washer and dryer, which meant putting it on the best buy credit card, and making us go into more debt.

I had a bit of an epiphany...I really need to get another job. If I'm thinking of having a child at some point in the near future, we need to pay off some debt. And, while I love my writing, it isn't paying the bills. Don't get me wrong, I will continue to write in my scant amount of free time, but I need to go back into graphic design, or become an administrative assistant. I need to use the skills I went to school to learn and bring another income into the house.

The problem is, there will always be small emergencies that will require money. Recently, I had a terrible pain in my abdomen and had to go to the hospital--600 dollars. We adopted a stray cat that wandered up and needed medical attention--300 dollars. We needed a new washer and dryer--1000 dollars. And, at any time, my old car (It's a 92 Chrysler Lebaron) could say "goodbye cruel world" and then that will be a few thousand for a "new" used car. The point is, if we don't have the money to cover small emergencies, having a child will be very hard on us.

I'm going back to work to cover my bills, some of the groceries, and to pay off my credit card. Then, my husband can work towards paying off debt much faster. A temp agency is trying to get me an interview with a graphic design company right now. If such an interview can be arranged, I think I might have a full time graphic design temp to hire job soon (I've been exposed to the program they use, and it isn't one of the usual ones like Photoshop or Illustrator, so I think I have a good chance).

Please, wish me luck and pray for me. I need it. It's hard to balance everything and going back to work full time or part time is going to be a big adjustment. I'm not sure how we're going to keep the house clean, how I'll be able to pursue my writing, or even how I'll be able to get used to staying us so early, but I am determined to do this. Somehow, things work out one way or another. When life gives you lemons, you create a machine that makes flaming lemons and burn life's house down!

Fantastical Mystery Tour

2011-07-11T11:58:00.000-07:00

Wow, it's been a long time since I've written on my blog. To be honest, it's been a long time since I've written anything at all. I think I've figured out why after about a week of taking a break from doing anything.

I recently went on vacation to the beach. For one full week, I didn't have any chores to do, or any work at all. It was a lot of fun, but instead of feeling like reading or writing, I just wanted to relax and play some video games. I haven't "felt it" when it comes to my writing lately. Directly after the beach trip, I discovered why.

I went to an event at a local Barnes and Noble called, "The Fantastical Mystery Tour." Several local fantasy authors (local to the Southeast, at least), Kaylana Price, Faith Hunter, Rachel Aaron, Misty Massey, and John Hartness, were there to sign their novels and discuss writing. I truthfully haven't read any of their books yet, but I want to. They sound like very good books, and are right up my ally, so I bought nearly one of each and you can expect reviews of those books in the future. Most of them are urban or high fantasy. I was amused to find I did have some things in common with the writers already, at least personality wise. Rachel Aaron told the group that she thinks of her characters in anime form, which secretly is something I also do. (Not much of a secret since I just put it on the blog...don't judge me!)

Ahem, anyway, it was a very useful discussion panel. They told us tactics for writing (planning an outline verses going by the seat of your pants), some etiquette when it comes to working with an agent, and the differences between getting an agent and working with publishers in New York, and being successful in the self publishing market.

As I listened, and learned more than I had previously, it rekindled something that had been slowly dying in my mind for the past year or so...ambition. It reminded me why I wanted to be an author, and it reminded me that I enjoy writing and want to make a living doing it. That has been my dream for a very long time, but I've found myself lately thinking that my dream won't come true. I had been giving up with out even realizing it.

I can't say that I didn't have good reasons for my temporary apathy towards writing, especially after the last few months. A death in the family has you re-evaluating the things that are important to you. Even though I love to write and would love to make a career out of it, I still find God, family, and friends more important. I hope that I never feel any differently. Still, that doesn't mean that I should give up on a dream that's important to me, or that I should stop doing something I feel passionate about and enjoy. Now that I realize that I was giving up, I refuse to do so anymore.

Long story short, when I watched those authors speaking, I wanted to be one of them. They were all very down to earth and nice, and they had done what I one day would like to do myself. It made me realize that I have deep down gotten discouraged because of all of my rejections. Thus, I haven't sent out any more agent letters because I'm being so self-critical that I don't think my work is worth sending in. I didn't even realize that I felt that way. Now that I know this is a problem, I can take steps to get over it.

First of all, my husband says he'll edit my "Everburn" book for content. (The authors said that everyone needs an editor that will tell you what makes a winning book, and for me that editor is my husband. He tells me what he does and doesn't like about my books, sometimes almost too harshly, so thankfully I already have my editor.) Once he works on "Everburn," I can go ahead and start sending it to more publishing companies and agents.

Also, I'm going to go through "The Writer's Market" to look for more agents to submit my work to. Also, I've been informed that I need to remove any writing samples from novels that I want to get published that I have on this blog, so please enjoy those snippets while they last--I'll be taking them down probably next week. If I'm serious about wanting my work published, I need to start acting it.

And, finally, I need to get back to writing again. Whether I "feel it" or not, I'm going to set aside time everyday to do some writing and I'm just going to sit down and do it. (This was Faith Hunter's advice, and it's very good advice indeed, sit down and write.) All of the authors agreed that there was no such thing as writer's block. Usually, when you have writer's block it's your brain telling you there is something wrong with your story and you need to take a step back, re-read it and then when you know what the problem is, write on it again. I'm also going to check out Rachel Aaron's blog to see her advice on doubling your word count. Since I have other responsibilities in my home other than writing, I need to make the time I have more productive.

As for what I'm going to write this week, I don't know. I'm going to go through my works in progress and pick the one I am feeling most excited about. Even though I was working on "The Guildsmen," I am no longer excited about it, and I need to be excited about the plot of a novel to write well. If you aren't passionate about your own work, no one else will be either. Maybe I'll start a new one, but either way, writing will get done, and I'll feel more confident and complete again.

To anyone reading this, please check out the blogs of all of the writer's I listed and look at their work. They were an inspiration to me, and I'm sure they will be to you as well. I owe them a great deal of thanks for getting me back on track and making me realize what was missing. Thank you all, if you get to see this. I appreciate your time and advice.

Feeling Better...

2011-06-07T08:18:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm glad to say that I'm feeling a little better. This week I finally feel that I've gotten back into my old routine. I'm getting up a little earlier in the mornings, I've started exercising and reading again, and I'm writing in between catching up on chores around the house. Currently, I'm reading "Mere Christianity" by C.S. Lewis. I like a good intellectual read, but I think after this one I'll read another Jim Butcher novel or something lighter. It's odd reading philosophy while you exercise...

It's funny, I never thought I would miss a routine, but when bad things happen that throw you out of it, it's sometimes nice to get back that same old, same old comfortable routine. This week has been a particularly nice one. I'm going to work on chores today and hopefully at the end of the week I'll be able to write all day on Thursday and Friday.

The story I'm currently working on is still "The Guildsmen." I think it's coming along nicely. I'm on page fifty, and I think it's an enjoyable story. I'm working very hard to make the setting accurate for the times other than, of course, the whole steampunk aspect. It takes place around the 1890s in London (you know, alternate universe London), so I'm trying to get everything right from the dress to the drinks that the characters order. It's a lot of research.

While I'm enjoying the steampunk story, I think when I'm done with this one, I'm going to switch back to good old fashioned horror for a little while. Heck, that would be nice if nothing more than just to get in the mood for Halloween. (I don't think it's an unrealistic assumption that I'll be done with "The Guildsmen" by Halloween.) And, since I'm already thinking of Halloween several months early as usual, it seems that things are normalizing in my mind again. Yay!

On that note, it seems even if I do get pregnant between now and Halloween, I shouldn't be so huge that I can't wear a normal costume. WOOT (we own the other team, for those not internet savvy)! I'm still trying to get pregnant, but I think being on birth control for so long is meaning that my system needs a few more months to normalize first, but I'm not stressing over it yet. In the meantime, I'm looking at it as extra time to write and to have a little less responsibility. Anyway, looking forward to Halloween again, and I'm hoping to run a horror themed RPG as well closer to time, probably Little Fears, or Call of Cthulhu.

Well, I'm off to do some more chores. I hope you have a great day. I'm going to try.

This month...I don't want to talk about this month.

2011-05-31T08:49:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

Sorry, I know I haven't written much this month. That was because, there wasn't a lot that I wanted to write about. I guess you could say that I've been putting things aside and handling some heavy stuff going on in my family. I'm ready to write it out now, and to hopefully get back into a productive routine. We'll see.

I'm not going to go into a great amount of detail, but my Grandmother died in early May. She was ninety-one years old, but however old she was, I still was sad to see her go. Still, I know that she's in a better place. She had a dream a few nights before that the Lord came to take her away. I'm sure that's what happened. Still, it's hard for those left behind.

The day after Grandmom died, my Mom had to go to the hospital where she was diagnosed with a transient ischemic attack (in essence, a mini-stroke). She's okay and she got out a day later, but we were all very worried about her. Somehow we did manage to pull together as a family and plan Grandmom's burial, but it was rough.

Jesus really worked through me. I could have never done all that I did to help alone. I owe Him a great deal, for his sacrifice for me, of course, but currently I'm referring of all he did for me during the two weeks surrounding these events. It was a wonderful feeling to have him work within me. I've never felt anything like it. I felt so peaceful, and so in control. Usually when someone dies in my family, I'm depressed and disorganized and pretty much freaking out, so I know it wasn't me that was doing all of these things. Still, when it was all over it left me totally emotionally and physically drained. My body isn't designed to handle that kind of thing.

Anyway, long story short, I got through it, only to get sick with a terrible head cold that lasted a full week the week after things settled down (that was the week before this one). Anyway, I'm finally over that, and I'm now trying to get caught up on chores, etc. My husband was very supportive and didn't ask me to do much this week. We ate fast food alot so I wouldn't have to cook, and somehow I didn't give the cold to him, which is amazing. Still, I haven't exercised or read anything at all this month, and I was getting out of the routine I had a few months before anyway. I know I've gained at least five pounds over the past two months(probably more like ten) which I'm hoping to shed. Thankfully, I don't look that bad yet though and can still wear most of my favorite clothes. Now that things have settled down, I want to get back into exercising and taking care of my body as well as my mind.

I've done a little writing on "The Guildsmen," that steampunk story I have a sample of on this blog. It's coming along nicely, probably because usually when bad things do happen I somehow become more inspired to write. Still, I'd definitely take writer's block over everything bad that's happened this month any day. I might have another writing sample from it in the future. I kept the intro that I put on this blog, and I'm trying to keep that writing style as well. With a few minor changes, he first few chapters have passed the approval of one of my friends who is an avid fan of steampunk, so I feel confident that so far it's going well. Still, this week I also took a break from writing while I was recovering because I took long naps in the afternoon (I couldn't help it. I was really that sick.). So, anyway, wish me luck on getting back to writing.

Anyway, that was this month. Hopefully, June will go better. There are a lot of good friends of mine, including my Pastor that are going through things just as bad if not worse than I was, so please keep him along with anyone you know who is going through bad things in your prayers. I have no doubt prayer requests went a long way with me and my family.

I'll try to keep this blog up and keep you posted more often from now on. Thanks for reading. I would say "keep reading" or "keep writing" but I can't say that in good conscience since I need to take my own advice on that this month. Here's one that's more appropriate...take care.

The Dangers of Writing and "Redemption"

2011-04-19T13:50:00.000-07:00

Well, I finally finished "Redemption" today. I have enough ideas left over that I could create another book as part of that series, but I don't think I'll do that anytime soon. I'm going to change genres for a little while. As I mentioned, I'm torn between picking up my horror novel, my steampunk novel, or starting my changeling novel. I guess I'll have to sleep on it.

I've been talking to my other writer friends and it's made me introspective about writing and why I do it, and why other writers do it. It's also made me think on the dangers of being a writer. So, I think I'll say a few words on my thoughts today.

I've noticed over the past few years that writing can be as great a pleasure or a burden as we tend to make it. It can either detract from life or add to it greatly. It can be an activity that causes stress or causes no stress at all, depending on how harshly we police ourselves. When I started out as a writer, I was very hard on myself, refusing to be satisfied until I had written a certain number of pages per day, etc. I quickly found out, however, that writing like that usually wasn't nearly as good as the writing I did when I felt inspired to do it. Also, it left me no time to edit as I went along, thus making me practically rewrite the entire piece by the time I was finished. Now, when I write, I write only when I feel like doing it. If that means taking a day off or even a month, I do it. Not only am I less stressed out, but it also makes me feel like my life is balanced and when I write I can focus on it entirely. I also write one or a few chapters at a time, and re-read the section two or three times and edit it after I finish for the day. This cuts down on long editing and helps me remember what I was working on the next day.

I've also noticed, for me at least, writing is a great form of escapism. My life in general is pretty boring. I work hard to keep my house clean, but I tend to get stuck doing the same thing day after day. My writing often gets pushed to the side in favor of keeping a clean house, visiting friends or family, or even just to play a video game. So, I find myself writing at odd times. While it might seem like a bad thing, I've found that even small thins like having a clean house help me write when I get to it. The danger, for me, is when I put writing above real life. I've done that before, and you always regret it later. I've had friends over before and found myself inspired and instead of talking, I end up writing. I do not recommend this because not only does it make you seem uncaring, but later you start wondering what you've missed out on, and then before you turn around, you're closing in on age thirty...

To cut down on this I don't allow myself to take my laptop with me on special occasions like visiting friends or family so that I won't obsess over it. I still am sometimes obsessive, over a story, but generally speaking if you aren't actually writing on it, you can eventually get it off of your mind. I do still write on vacations, just not one day getaways. It keeps things in perspective.

Obsessing over writing is also a danger. When I get into the middle of a story, I often find myself daydreaming from the point of view of the various characters. The idea that one can get so invested in an imaginary life is a little scary, and yet, it is very interesting and fun. I realized long ago that writing is just another way of playing pretend, only you do it in the form of a story you control entirely. (I say that, though the story tends to write itself and sometimes you find the characters do something you didn't expect...but I digress.) The point is, I've often wondered if I was in the middle of a project I'm obsessing over if I get hit in the head and have amnesia, will I wake up as me or remember the "memories" of the character? Doing anything to the point it consumes you is unhealthy.

I guess a good summary of what I'm trying to say is moderation is good in all things. Writing is addictive and fun, but we sometimes should step back and remember that we only live once. It's always best to put our writing aside for God, family, and friends. Otherwise, what are we doing but intellectually masturbating? (I know that phrase is slightly vulgar, but I think it describes writers very well at times.)

So, the challenge I give to you writers today is to go outside and do something fun that isn't writing. Call a friend you've been missing or play a video game. I know everyone enjoys writing differently, but I'm just telling you what works for me, and am noticing that as you grow as a writer and a person, how you handle it tends to change. Ask me about this again in another ten years, and I'm sure my perspective will have also grown with me as well.

Renewal

2011-04-12T08:41:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

Sorry I haven't posted in a long time, but I've been very busy. I took a great vacation with my husband for our six year anniversary. Getting out of the city for a little while and spending some time with him was just what I needed. It has convinced me that I need to get back into the things that I've neglected over the past few months and work harder to balance my time.

First of all, I'm going to get back into my exercise routine. I've already gotten a good start on doing that. While I don't look bad yet, I could look better and it's always a good idea to keep up my cardio, especially since I'm about to turn thirty and am trying to get pregnant (I need to start good habits now). I'm also going to be sure to write in my prayer journal at the very least once a week and pray every night before bed. I'm going to continue to blog and write, and I will finish my "Redemption" story by the end of this month.

"Redemption" is not a bad story, but I'm sort of feeling like it's holding me back now. I have other ideas that I want to try, but I keep adding more and more to "Redemption." It also is getting a little too long now, pushing the 80,000 word limit, so I need to wrap it up so that I can move on to something else. I'm going to either pick up my steam punk story, my horror novel, or start the urban fantasy changeling story that I was thinking of recently. Either way, I'm ready for a fresh start. Also, I've started looking for agents for my "Everburn" story again as well.

I've decided not to self-publish "Eternity Game," or at least not to do it yet. Hindsight is always better than foresight, and I've noticed that while it isn't a bad story, it was my first and the writing style leaves something to be desired. I want my first book to be better than that. I also want my first book to be published by a real publishing company. That being said, if I get some more cyberpunk novels written and published that take place in Cimmerian City, then I can publish the first three novels later as a sort of "prequel" to the others. Hopefully by then, someone will be interested in what started the books taking place in that city. An author can dream.

Anyway, wish me luck.

Rango

2011-03-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

I thought it would be nice to write up another movie review this week while the movie is fresh in my mind. For my birthday party, I went with my friends to Arizona steak house for a meal and then afterward went to see the movie "Rango." I didn't know what to expect from the film since I had only really seen one or two previews, but the reviews for it were good, and I like Johnny Depp. I must say, I was really impressed with this movie.

The general story is that of a captive lizard that has spent his life pretending to be other people and thinks of himself as an actor. He plays as many different personas, but all of them seem shallow. He realizes that it's because there are no conflicts in his narratives--and upon coming to this realization, his aquarium falls out of the back window of the car when the car swerves to try not to hit an armadillo. He's a chameleon that now has to survive the heat of the desert. Eventually, he does make it to a small town that is undergoing a water shortage. He decides to pretend to be a tough gunslinger and is appointed sheriff of the town. He soon realizes that there's more to the water shortage than it originally seemed, and he eventually has to quit pretending, and either leave the town to it's own devises, or try to become a true hero.

I was surprised at the dark overtones of this movie. Death seems to be a recurring theme throughout the narrative. The band keeps telling the audience that Rango is going to die. The armadillo from the beginning is actually flattened by the car, but somehow pulls itself together and moves on, and yet it becomes a spiritual guide. Rango becomes sheriff by accidentally killing a hawk. And, there's even a scene towards the end where Rango passes out from exhaustion and ends up going on a sort of spiritual journey. The movie definitely has the feel of a Western with those sort of dark overtones, and it's easy to lose yourself in the feel of it and to sort of forget that you're looking at a cast of animals.

The animation of this movie is also very good. It seems computer animated films are becoming better and better as the years go by. I think what impressed me most about this particular film was the textures of the animals used. The fur looked like fur, the dry scales of the rattlesnake looked like scales, and yet there were subtle things about each of the characters that gave them personality, like the line on the scales of the rattlesnake's mouth that looked almost like a thin mustache.

All of the acting was very good in this movie. Once again, Johnny Depp also proves himself to be a versatile actor. All of the voices seemed to fit the characters perfectly. There was lots of humor throughout the film that was delivered well by the actors, and subtle humor that a child definitely wouldn't pick up on. (I must say, it's hilarious to hear "Flight of the Valkyries" played on a banjo.)

My only real complaint about this movie is it is a little slow to start. The first quarter or so of the movie leaves you wondering, "What am I watching," and it does come across as a little boring. This is mostly due to the strange nature of the film. Still, the pace picks up quickly. I think I decided this film was excellent when Rango meets "The Spirit of the West." (Watch the movie, you'll love the reference.) My only other complaint is that the female lizard for some reason has hair. I know that's a small complaint, but it bugged me for some reason. I just kind of wanted to have her hat knocked off at some point so that we could see the hair was attached to the hat, but that's okay.

Overall, I highly recommend this movie to anyone who likes a good Western. It's funny, fun, and is definitely worth the money to see in the theater.

See You on the Dark Side of the Moon...

2011-03-17T13:11:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

Well, it's close to the end of the week, so I thought I would go ahead and write another blog entry. There isn't much to say about this week. Since I worked very hard last week, I've been trying to take it a little easier this time around. I've worked just hard enough that I know I'll finish my chores by the end of the day tomorrow. In my free time I've been doing a little bit of brain storming on that changeling novel, trying to put the finishing touches on my "Redemption" story, screwing around on the internet, and playing a little WoW. I've also started a prayer journal, and that's pretty nice.

This last weekend was very busy. We built a new set of stairs for the front porch of our house. Thank you again to all of my friends who helped out on that. You are awesome. I also gamed more than I have in a very long time. We played Ars Magica, the Grimm game (the one I run), and Swashbucklers of the Seven Skies. But, it left me feeling a little tired this week, that and changing the darn time and losing an hour of sleep... I still don't think my sleep schedule has caught up yet. Anyway, I won't have the cover finished this week for "Eternity Game." I'm hoping for the next.

The big news is that my birthday is coming up on Tuesday. I'll be twenty nine. Hence the title of this blog, because I really don't know where the time went. It's not getting older that's bothering me as much as how quickly the years slipped away. It feels like I was in my mid-twenties maybe a year ago, but clearly that isn't the case. It's spooky, and the years don't seem to want to dance any slower. Still, I'm okay with that. Twenty-nine isn't that old, but like I said, it just snuck up on me and makes me realize that I'm not as young as I once was.

I should probably start taking better care of myself, establish good habits now, etc. I probably won't though. I'm also realizing if I ever want a tattoo or another type of piercing my time is running out for that as well. (I got a belly-button piercing last time I felt this way...)

Well, happy reading and writing to you all. I hope you have a good weekend. I think I will. I have a fun birthday party planned and the weather should be good. Take care.

I don't want to go in the cart...

2011-03-11T11:02:00.000-08:00

Hello all,

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've written on my blog, but I've been incredibly sick for about two weeks now. I had an upper respiratory infection that left me sleeping most of the day for over a week, as well as making me not feel like doing anything at all. Still, despite my illness, I've managed to do a lot of writing this week and have almost finished "Redemption." I've also come up with a new idea for another novel.

My next idea is an urban fantasy novel with the lead character as a changeling. She manages to escape from Arcadia, but her place in her home has been taken by a fetch. So, she must learn to adjust to living in the human world again on her own. Her memories of her life in Arcadia are also fractured. She comes across other changelings in the city, faces that she remembers, but she can't place them.

It's only a rough concept currently, but I plan to try to work on it in the near future. Also, I've used this week to start work on the cover for "Eternity Game." Since I'm publishing it on e-book readers, I need to make my own cover. I'm glad to say that it's coming along pretty nicely. I didn't expect it to go so smoothly since I've been so out of practice. I've been using free photos from sites offering stock photos for public use. When I finish, I'll post it on the blog for you to see. Wish me luck.

Writing Sample from "Redemption"

2011-02-10T12:56:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm glad to say after many weeks of working on it, I think I'm ready to submit a writing sample from my dark fantasy story. I'm using the title "Redemption" right now, but that's only a working title. I need to call it something besides "dark fantasy story" or "Aisling's Story" so we'll go with that for now.

The scene I've chosen as a sample is when Aisling has finally gained the courage to try to escape from her evil Master, Dugald, for a second time. She works as a slave for him, learning magic so that one day she'll be his apprentice, but he's shown her one of his dark rituals for the first time, and it frightens her away.

I hope you enjoy the story. It's the first story that I've really written in first person, and I think I'm getting the hang of it. Anyway, let me know what you think. I appreciate you taking the time to read my sample work. Here we go...

Things went on similar to the way they were originally for another year. Dugald kept his word and I no longer had to dissect the bodies unless there was something specific he wanted to show me. I also no longer had to care for the prisoners, though he still had used me as his torturer. During most of the day I studied complex magic with Dugald and he had me researching a few spells that interested me on my own time. He was teaching me mostly about ritual magic. The rituals he taught me became more and more complex each day.

However, when I turned thirteen my duties changed yet again. It seemed it was time for him to carry out his threat of showing me a real sacrifice and having me actually play a part in it.

I know what you’re probably thinking. If I even was taking part in a sacrificial ritual, then I’ve gone way too far and the Magi should’ve killed me on sight. Still, you forget that I was nothing but a puppet. I didn’t ever willingly take part in any of the ceremonies, but whenever I tried to refuse, or run, or even cry and beg not to participate, Dugald would simply look into my eyes and my body acted. My mind went to “my happy place” and I would count the seconds until the ceremony was over. I never learned how to perform any of the rituals, nor did I have any interest in ever doing anything of the sort. And, thankfully, Dugald wasn’t teaching me how to perform any of the infernal rituals, or the language of the creatures he dealt with, because if he had the Magi would’ve killed me by now. That’s been the one thing that has kept me alive this long, the fact that I was an unwilling participant. I never wanted to know the creature that they worshiped and sacrificed to and I never really wanted the power that came with it either. It terrified me.

Anyway, on my thirteenth birthday, I was forced to enter the sacrificial chamber to witness a ceremony for the first time. My only role was to hold a silver chalice to “catch the blood.” It was considered an honor and a birthday present by Dugald, but I protested the entire way down the stairs, begging and sobbing, until he stared into my eyes and forced me to be silent. The fire in the stairwell glowed with an eerie purple light instead of the orange I had seen when I first entered. It gave the place an even more sinister look and when we reached the bottom of the stairs I saw why.

All around me there were people standing along the walls and chanting. They were all extremely beautiful, male and female, and I knew at once when I saw them that most of them were fey. They were speaking in a language I didn’t understand, and strapped to the altar in front of them was a human. She was breathtakingly beautiful, wearing nothing but a white gauzy silk robe that emphasized her body. She wasn’t moving, but her eyes were wide open. Oddly, she had a dreamy expression on her face and a slight smile. There was a solitary tear running down her cheek, but her expression was resolute. It was almost as though she wanted to die.

Upon seeing the confused expression on my face, Dugald whispered in my ear, “She is a willing sacrifice. I thought this ceremony might be a bit easier for you to endure as your first time. All I need you to do is hold the chalice steady against her open wounds until it’s full. We need it to be full to complete the ceremony.”

I was still under his spell and nodded in compliance. Still, I couldn’t help but feel pity for her. She was willing, that was clear, but the question that remained was why? Why would someone willingly do what she was doing? As I scanned the room, I realized the answer. One of the fey men had tears running down his face. She was locking eyes with him. Clearly, they were involved with one another, and he had led her here. Still, I could tell something that she clearly couldn’t. His sadness wasn’t touching his eyes. They were as false tears, nothing but glamour. He had convinced her to give her life for him. It made me sick. I wanted to throw the chalice at him, unbind the woman and slap her until she snapped out of her delusions, but all I could do was walk forward, holding the cup.

I had never imagined such a brutal and disgusting ceremony. It wasn’t just a sacrifice. I was expecting Dugald to kill her quickly, the way he had done with my lamb, but it seemed that he had something else in mind. I won’t go into gory details, but it was a vivisection. Not only that, but somehow he managed to keep the girl alive while it was going on. I could feel raw power coursing through the room with every stroke of his dagger, and I’m ashamed to say, it was euphoric. I’ve never felt such power. It was as though a voice was whispering in my ear, tempting and teasing me with promises that it could fulfill.

I found myself laughing, and noticed that all the other fey, including the one that shed false tears earlier, were laughing as well—and I hated myself for it. The woman wasn’t laughing. She was going mad with pain. When I snapped out of the euphoria of the waves of power around me, I threw the chalice. Blood poured from it in a flood of droplets like a puddle of red rain. There was an audible gasp from the group. Dugald’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment and the chanting stopped.

Under the accusatory glances of the cultists, I cringed, began to cry, and bolted as fast as I could towards the stairs. I heard Dugald yelling after me, but my head was throbbing so badly that I couldn’t make out what he was saying, and at the time I didn’t care. Everything seemed to fall into place. Suddenly, I knew the fate of those that I used to care for, and I realized just by caring for them at all I was just as responsible for the terrible ceremony as the cultists. I felt dirty at the thought of the power washing over me, and the fact that I actually liked it. I could still feel the power working in my system, and it was somehow allowing me to run faster.

The hallways blurred by me on the way to my room. When I reached it, I slammed the door behind me, only to realize that Accalon was inside, waiting for me.

I shouted, “Out of my way,” And rushed towards my wardrobe, searching for a change of clothes.

Accalon said with a sly smile, ‘I knew this would happen, so I took the liberty of packing a bag for you.”

I turned around. Accalon was holding a bag out in front of me. I snatched it from his grasp and looked inside. It seemed that he wasn’t lying. There was an extra set of clothes, my Mother’s comb, and even my favorite books inside. Every possession that I treasured in the slightest was there, except for my cloth doll, which he was holding. There was a lock of my hair sewn into the doll’s dress. It seemed he took it from me while I was asleep.

I asked, “Why are you doing this?”

He said, “I think you know why. I want you out of here.”

I reached for the doll.

He pulled it away from me and said, “Not this. I put a spell on it. Since Dugald has a link to you, I needed something personal of yours to create a new focus. I’m going to take it the exact opposite direction that you run. It won’t throw him off forever, but it’ll buy you some time.”

I frowned. It seemed too easy, and it also seemed very uncharacteristic of Accalon to help me. As I mentioned before, after my first escape attempt, Dugald accidentally admitted that he had formed an arcane connection to me by lacing my food with his blood. I researched spells to counteract that sort of focus and found that if I used something personal, like my doll, I could temporarily create a different link that would throw him off of my trail. It seemed that Accalon was reading my notes all along and knew my plan, and yet he hadn’t told Dugald and was actually helping me carry it out.

Accalon seemed to read my mind, “I just want you to go. I’ve got nothing to lose. All of your notes are here so if Dugald still manages to catch you, he won’t believe I had anything to do with it. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you to get out of here and for me to get rid of you. Take it or leave it, but you don’t have time to waste…”

I took the bag and ran out.

He called after me, “Use the front entrance, no one is guarding it. I made sure of that.”

I didn’t know where I planned to go or what I planned to do. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay there for another moment. I bolted towards the front entrance. It seemed that Accalon had drugged the two guards that usually kept watch, because they were fast asleep next to the door. No doubt he would be planting evidence that I had something to do with it in my room, but at the time I didn’t care.

When I ran outside, for a moment I thought I had died from the light reflecting all around me. The snow glittered like broken glass and dazzled my senses, making me instinctually cover my eyes. Still, the light was quickly contrasted by dark clouds in the distance. I didn’t care. I ran in the direction of the road. I heard a strange hissing sound, and realized, as I harnessed whatever was left of the dark power in my system, my footsteps were melting the snow around them. I glanced again at the clouds. I prayed silently that it would snow and that my footsteps would be covered up by it—it was the worst prayer for that particular moment.

I ran for fifteen minutes before I finally got too tired to continue. My lungs burned with every breath of cold air, but I realized in that fifteen minutes, it was more like I had run for thirty. I was already almost to the oak tree where I had rested as a fox on my first attempt at escape. Instinctively, I flinched and looked around; expecting to see Dugald bearing down on me in the form of a wolf, but there was nothing around me but an eerie, permeating silence. It was the silence before a storm, a snow storm.

As I struggled onward, I realized why Accalon helped me. The temperature was freezing. I hadn’t changed out of my apprentice robes and the cold cut through me like a blade through my flesh. At first, the snow only fell lightly, like the white blooms falling off of a thornapple tree, but it didn’t take long for the snow to become thick and unbearably cold. I looked into the bag, hoping for a coat, only to see that Accalon had packed only light clothing. It seemed he really didn’t have anything to lose, because if Dugald didn’t catch me and kill me, the weather would do it just as efficiently. I cursed under my breath. I was in such a hurry to go, I didn’t care about what was in the bag as long as I had my few treasured belongings. A great bit of good they would do me now…

For a moment, I contemplated turning into a fox.

I could always sit in the shelter of those roots until it stopped snowing, but then
I remembered Dugald’s words, “If you use that form to escape from me again, you will live in it and you will live in the stable.”

I shivered, but not just from the cold. No, I decided I would rather die than to live out the rest of my life as a fox in the stable. The thought of being Dugald’s pet was far worse than being his apprentice. At least, as his apprentice, I got to research and use my magic. So, even if he did catch me, assuming he didn’t kill me, it was possible I could escape again eventually. I decided that I would put on the few clothes Accalon did pack over me and trudge onward. If God was willing I would find a campsite or a barn eventually. If not, I would die, and either way I would be free of Dugald and would never hurt anyone again.

Cold is agony. I never realized it until that day, but it really is agony. Even now, as I’m shivering in the dungeon, I think the cold is bothering me more than my locked muscles, the gagging smell of filth, and the rats. That day in the snow, I realized what true pain was. And, what was worse was the fact I was choosing to endure it. At any moment I could’ve turned into a fox, burrowed a quick hole in the ground, and at least then I would’ve been dry, but I was too afraid. I had a horrible feeling that with every step I took, Dugald was scampering somewhere behind me as a wolf, waiting for me to fall. I decided that if he was going to capture me again, it was going to be in the form of a human. At least then he wouldn’t be able to grasp me in his teeth and play with me as though I was a rag doll.

I began to hallucinate as I walked further and further into the winter forest. Though, looking back on it, I’m not entirely sure everything that happened was a hallucination. I thought I saw a man walking among the trees in a thick fur coat. He had long red hair like that of a fox and bright orange eyes—I’m sure the man was my Father, whether real or a hallucination. He reached out one hand as though beckoning me to take it, but it seemed, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reach him. The image moved further and further away, leading me deeper into the woods until I was hopelessly lost.

Then, the image disappeared and I saw a cave in front of me. There was a sheet of ice covering the entrance so thickly that I could see my reflection in it like a mirror. However, my reflection looked much different than it should have at the time. I was wearing a very thick fur cape, along with an exquisite gown and a silver crown on my head. I had a very cold and ruthless smile on my face, but I was beautiful and totally grown up. I was sitting on an ornate throne. There was a handsome man sitting on a throne next to mine with orange hair and cold eyes, and he was wearing a similar crown. Our hands were entwined.

I heard a voice in my head, “You wanted power, and now I’m offering it to you. Aren’t I a generous Father?”

My teeth were chattering so badly I could barely speak, but I spat, “You abandoned me.”

He said, “But I can still claim you. I’ll even provide a knight in shining armor for you to marry. Dugald can’t reach you here. You’ll have a family again, a place where you belong.”

I was more tempted then than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I knew I didn’t want to become like Dugald, and while I didn’t want to become like my Father either, I was offered so much. Even though my Mother was bitter about my Father, I still wanted to know him. I was so tired of feeling hatred, and here was an opportunity to replace that hatred with love. He was offering me the love of a Father, something I never experienced and always wanted, along with everything else I desired. I would have a Father, a husband, and power beyond my wildest dreams. I almost reached towards the image, but then I quickly drew back.

I remembered the stories my Mother told me about the fey. There was always a catch to their bargains. Nothing was ever free. Even from her own experience, my Father told her he would save her from her loneliness, and he did that by giving her a child and then abandoning her. It made me wonder if she got to rule on a similar throne during her time with him. If that was true, then the only difference in the image I saw before me was man ruling next to her would’ve been my Father, and she would’ve been a fairy queen, rather than a fairy princess.

I could understand her bitterness at that moment with such intensity that it hurt. To have ruled there as a queen and then to be reduced to barely having enough to eat with nothing but an unborn child to remember that it actually happened at all—she had every right to be bitter and to hate him, and so did I. And, that picture, while beautiful and tempting was nothing but glamour. I would be powerful, in an imaginary world. I would have a husband, but he would be as cold as winter snow and his love would be as shallow as a frozen stream. And, in place of Dugald, my Father would be my Master.

I said, “Never.”

He said, “You’ll freeze to death.”

I said, “At least death is real. That isn’t.”

My Father chuckled and said, “You’re quite clever, but you can’t resist my offer forever. My blood is in your veins. This is where you belong. You’ll come back one day, begging for this, and being and generous Father, I’ll grant it to you.”

I said, “Don’t count on it,” And walked away, only to see that I was back on the
road already.

If it was a hallucination, it was a damn realistic one, but then, I was burning up with fever at the time. My forehead was hot, even in the middle of a blizzard, and my head was pounding loudly in my ears. I could see a town ahead of me in the distance, but every step I took towards it was like learning to walk again. I stumbled and fell, but then through sheer force of will pulled myself up again and took another step towards it.

I thought, “I can get there. Someone will take pity on me when I do, maybe even a member of the clergy. I just have to keep going…”

I took another five steps and then fell again. My clothes were soaked. I couldn’t feel my hands or my feet. I shouted for help in the direction of the town, but it was as though my words were swallowed by the silence of the snow and the sound of the wind. I heard my words die off only a few feet in front of me. I think at that moment, despair made me lose my will. My legs crumpled beneath me, and I couldn’t find the strength to stand back up.

I watched the snow covering my hands and realized that I couldn’t feel it anymore. I felt so tired; I thought I could just close my eyes and surrender. The snow could claim me, and at least then I wouldn’t have to fight anymore. One part of my mind was screaming that I was a fool to die so close to the town, while the other part was telling me that I was too tired to press on, and if let the darkness press in around my eyes, I would finally be at peace. My mind was battling with itself, but either way, my body wasn’t moving.

I thought the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow was just another hallucination. Still, I felt a warm hand pressing against my forehead and then the hand was gone. Suddenly, I was being lifted out of the snow.

Everything was blurry, and I couldn’t make out who it was, but I knew him the moment he spoke, though his voice was cracking slightly as though he was crying, “You’ll be okay, Little Kit. Let’s go home.”

#

I was in my room when I awoke, naked in my bed and covered in furs. My skin smelled clean, as though I had a bath, though I couldn’t remember bathing. I could hear Dugald singing. It was the same sad song he used as a lullaby. He was sitting in a chair next to my bed, and was putting a cold compress on my forehead, while stroking my cheek with a tenderness that made me think I was dreaming.

He said, “Finally awake, I see.”

I groaned but didn’t say anything.

He continued, “You are one stubborn little brat, you know that, don’t you?”

I smiled weakly and nodded.

Dugald sighed and said, “You didn’t turn into a fox, not once. You used my rule against me so I couldn’t carry out my threat. I can’t decide if I’m proud of you or if I’m furious...”

I muttered, “I’d prefer proud.”

Dugald’s eyes became cold and but he smiled and said, “I’ll bet you do. However, I’m afraid it’s a little of both. You’re not getting out of this unpunished.”
I was so weak I didn’t care. My body still felt slightly numb, so if he punished me then, I knew I would hardly feel it.

Still, he didn’t make a move to punish me at all. Instead, he just sighed, and reapplied the cold compress

Dugald said, “I know someone helped you do this. Who was it?”

I said, “Accalon.”

Dugald paused. His eyes flashed with anger.

He asked, “Why would Accalon help you?”

I said with a delirious laugh, “I asked myself the same question. Too bad I didn’t ask it before I left. He was the one that packed my bags for me—a bag full of nothing but light clothes, in the middle of the winter, in the middle of a blizzard!”

I began laughing so hard that I cried. Dugald slapped me once, temporarily pulling me out of my delirium.

He said, “That bastard. He’s lucky that he didn’t kill you. So, I guess he’s the one who enchanted the doll to throw me off of your trail?”

I nodded and said, “Yes. He read my notes and did what was planning to. He said it was you wouldn’t believe he helped me if you managed to catch me in time.”
Accalon muttered, “I’ll have a word with him later…”

It all felt like a dream at that time, mostly because I was still hallucinating from the fever. I found myself talking despite the fact I knew Dugald could use anything I said against me.

I said in a singsong voice, “It doesn’t matter if he kills me anymore. He’s been threatening to do it for a long time now, so why not? I’m a monster, monsters deserve to die. He’s constantly sneaking into my room, going through my stuff, staring at that painting, and threatening me, anyway. So why not?”

Dugald’s eyes grew wide, “What did you say? He’s been sneaking into your room?”

I said, “Yes, he wants this room back, you see. He likes to talk to me about what the painting says about me, and then he beats me up and leaves.”

Dugald asked, “How long has this been going on?”

I said, “Since he came here. He said he would kill me and make it look like an accident if I told you, but I really don’t care anymore.”

Dugald looked more furious than I’ve ever seen him. He was shaking with rage. His hand gripped the cold compress so hard that I could’ve sworn all of the water was gone from it by the time he reapplied it. His lips curled up into a cruel smile. His eyes were red again, and I flinched back in terror upon seeing his teeth. For a moment, they looked like they belonged to a shark or were filed down to sharp points. Then, as suddenly as it happened, his eyes were normal again and so were his teeth.

He muttered, “Wait here. I’m going to have a word with Accalon. I’ll be back to take care of you.”

Then, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I flinched. I would’ve hated to be in Accalon’s place at that moment. Still, I was mostly concerned for myself. Even though I thought he literally meant he would be taking care of me, with Dugald I could never be sure. And, as I thought of that face he made, it scared me almost out of my mind. It wasn’t his face anymore at that moment. It was the face of a devil. If there was a demon living inside of Dugald, then that would explain his manic mood swings, among other things. It also made him even more dangerous than Accalon…

I couldn’t have waited for more than thirty minutes when Dugald came back inside. I nearly screamed. His face was splattered with blood and blood was dripping from his hands.

He said, simply, “Accalon has until the end of the week to pack his bags. He’ll no longer be staying with us.”

I stammered, “What did you do to him?”

Dugald said, “No more than he deserved. Not to worry, his wounds will mend and he’ll be as much of a fool as he was before.”

Dugald washed his hands in the basin and wiped his face on the compress.

I asked, “Am I going to be bleeding that much when you’re done with me? I almost wish I never said anything to you, now.”

Dugald said, “Don’t pity him. He doesn’t deserve it, and yes, you will, but not today. This is partly my fault. You weren’t ready, and I knew that I couldn’t hold your mind throughout the entire ceremony. I thought that when you felt the euphoria created by the power, you would succumb to it. But, you have a stronger will than I thought. Still, even the strongest will can eventually be broken.”

I said, “You might as well have let me die in the snow. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that.”

Dugald said, “For now, don’t worry about it. I’m going to give you a temporary reprieve. This year, I want you to simply practice refining your magic. I’ll make you sit in on one or two more ceremonies, but you can just sit in the corner and rock back and forth for all I care. Next year, however, you will participate.”

I said in a miserable tone, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald asked, “Why do you think you’re a monster?”

I said, “Because, I let all of those people die since I chose not to act. I didn’t know what you were doing to them, or I never would’ve even cleaned the cells for you! I even let Banan die…”

I slammed a hand over my own mouth, but it was too late.

Dugald asked, “Banan? Wait a moment; he was the blond child from the church, wasn’t he? You knew his name? Wait—you liked him, didn’t you?”

I looked away and didn’t say anything.

Dugald said, “I see. You did. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I said, “You would’ve made me kill him. You would use him against me.”

Dugald said, “I wouldn’t.”

I snapped, “Yes you would! You told me never to get attached, and I did. You would’ve made me sacrifice him like you made me kill that lamb.”

Dugald shook his head, saying, “I wish you had told me. He had talent and he was well connected with the church. I could’ve used him. If I had known you were friends, we could’ve brought him into the fold together.”

I said, “Banan never would’ve done it, friends or not. He was incorruptible.”
Dugald said, “He did have more faith than I’ve seen in a very long time. You’ll be pleased to know that the ceremony failed. He died, but his spirit wasn’t spent.”

I said, “I thought so.”

Dugald asked, “When are you going to learn to trust me? I would’ve spared him if you begged me to.”

I asked, “Like you spared me from having to participate in the ritual when I begged you earlier, right? Or the way you spared my lamb? Or maybe the way you spared me from torturing the prisoners when I begged not to…”

Dugald scowled and said, “You’re forgetting that I’ve spared you from freezing to death, and from Accalon. I’ve been kinder to you than most, far kinder than my Master was to me. You know that.”

I asked, “Do I? I think you and I have very different opinions of what it means to be kind.”

Dugald snapped, “You should learn to hold your tongue, unless you’d like to have it cut out. You should know better than to talk to me like that.”

He leaned across the bed. I started cowering towards my back wall, whimpering, thinking he was going to pull me up by the hair and cut my tongue out, but instead he put his hand against my forehead again.

Dugald said, “Ah, your fever is back. It might be even worse.”

He took the basin and emptied the bloody water out replacing it with fresh, cold water, and then put the compress back on my head. I sighed with relief.

Dugald said in a whisper, “I wouldn’t advise trying to escape again. If I catch you, I’ll chain you up in the dungeons naked, temporarily blind you, and feed you rotten meat until you’re too weak and insane to run away again. Is that clear?”

He said it as though he was stating a simple fact. I knew he was telling the truth, and it made me tremble so horribly that the compress slid off of my forehead.

I said, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald continued, “I’ve mostly spared the rod thus far. I see now that I’ve been too lenient on you. Tomorrow, when your fever has broken, I’m going to truly mark for the first time. I’m going to carve a set of wings on your back to remind you that you shouldn’t attempt to fly, as my Master did to me.”

I remembered seeing the tattoos on Dugald’s back when he was naked in front of me, after he changed back from his wolf form. There was a tattoo of bat wings on his shoulder blades. I could guess that his Master probably did that to him the first time he attempted to escape. Dugald had indeed spared me from that, though he did hurt me in a fit of anger trying to retrieve me. Still, it made me feel sorry for him, and for myself. I began to weep.

Dugald said, “I don’t suppose you’ll believe me when I say I don’t enjoy punishing you, but one day perhaps you’ll know, maybe even when I allow you to take on an apprentice of your own.”

I cried out, “Why? Why do you make me stay with you then? You know I hate the rituals and that I hate harming other people.”

Dugald said, “Because I think one day you can be made to change. One day you’ll start to enjoy the rituals and you’ll learn that you aren’t a person. You’re a Magus. We’re above normal humans.”

I said, “Above them? We’re the same. I won’t treat people like animals.”

Dugald chuckled and said, “My Dear, Aisling, I would suggest that you treat animals better than humans. You think we’re the same, but do you suppose that they think that about you or me? No. Humans think that we’re freaks. They’re frightened of us and they treat us far worse that we treat them.”

I snapped, “We’re killing them!”

Dugald asked, “If you made it to an inn that night, do you know what they would’ve done? They would’ve shut the door in your face. They would kill you in a heartbeat. I wish you could’ve made it that far so that you could see for yourself.”

I said, “But the church took Banan in, surely they would take me in as well…”

Dugald threw back his head and laughed, “You are still so naïve. It’s cute. They took Banan only because his gift wasn’t as obvious as yours or mine. Did you notice his aura when you first met him?”

I muttered, “No.”

Dugald said, “If you made it to the church, they might’ve allowed you to sleep inside for the night, but you would cast out the very next day. We are their victims, not the other way around.”

I said, “But, you’re so cruel to them. You torture them and drive them mad…”

Dugald said, “It’s better for them to be driven mad than to enter the ceremony sane. Yes, I torture them, but I have to, to get them ready for the ritual. And yes, I take some pleasure in it, because causing pain is an art form.”

I glanced at the painting and muttered, “You and I have different opinions on art as well.”

Dugald sighed and said, “What would you have me do, Aisling? Our Masters demand
wayward souls. Do you think you’re the only one who can be made a slave?”

I asked, “Are you a slave to them?”

Dugald said, “No. I do my job and they reward me with power. Think of it as though we’re their apprentices. When we do what they command of us, the rewards are great, but when we fail to do what they command, the punishments are far greater. One day we’ll finish our apprenticeship and will become much more valuable to them, and then the rewards will outweigh any punishment we might endure.”

I muttered, “And what are the rewards after your finished being an apprentice?”

Dugald gasped and asked, “Aisling, don’t you know?”

I shook my head.

Dugald sat next to me on the bed and put his arm around me, “The reward of completing an apprenticeship is when you’re dream becomes a reality and you become a full member of your Order. Really, did you think you would be doing this the rest of your life?”

I said, “But I’m not even an apprentice yet. I’m a slave. You said so yourself.”

Dugald said, “All apprentices really start out that way. Those fool Hermetic Magi would have you think otherwise, but they treat their apprentices like slaves as well. You won’t be a slave forever, Aisling. I’m sure your initiation will happen sooner than you think.”

I muttered, “What will change when I’m an apprentice?”

Dugald said, “When you become a full apprentice, the others will take you seriously, and so will I. You’re no longer expendable. You no longer do chores, and you’re given more freedom to research on your own.”

I asked, “And when will I be a full member?”

Dugald said, “When you learn what I’ve been trying to teach you. When you’re comfortable attending rituals, and learn your place in the world. On that day, I’ll make you a full member of the cult and tell you our secrets.”

I said, “I don’t know if I want to know your secrets. I don’t want to serve those things.”

Dugald said, “Whether you want to or not, you are, and you said so yourself. Through inaction you’re serve them. But, when you become a member of the Order, you won’t have to answer to anyone of our Order anymore. No one will punish you, not even me. You’ll only have to answer to them, and that’s a privilege in and of itself. By then, you’ll know it.”

I asked, “So what do I have to do?”

Dugald said, “Just be patient and learn to obey me. Eventually, you’ll have everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

I said, “I will try, Master.”

He ran his fingers through my hair and began to sing. It seemed a shame that someone with such a magnificent voice was so dangerous and mad. Still, I found myself relaxing in spite of the heavy thoughts on my mind. His voice always had that effect on me. It was as though the events of the day, while they still happened, were someone else’s burden and not my own.

As I began drifting off towards sleep I thought about the picture I had seen earlier that day in the woods. Both my Father and Dugald were offering me everything I had ever dreamed of, and yet neither of them seemed to know what I really dreamed of at all. It made me wonder if I even knew what I really wanted. Most people would’ve taken my Father’s offer, especially during the moment he made it. And, if they didn’t, they would’ve already succumbed to Dugald’s whims to make their lives easier. So, why didn’t I?

Don’t mistake me as the type to not want power. I did want power, but not so that I could control others, just so that I could control my own destiny. I wanted things that neither of them could give me, things they probably couldn’t even understand. I didn’t want supreme power over a world that didn’t exist, but I didn’t want power in a world as dark and cynical as Dugald’s either. I just wanted to be free to shape my own destiny. Maybe one day I would take my Father’s offer, but on my own terms. Or, maybe one day I would decide to join Dugald, but I wanted the decision to be my own. Both of them offered me the life I wanted, but in either case, it wasn’t to be my choice. My Father would choose the knight for me to marry. Dugald would choose everything from the spells I would learn to the clothes I would wear.
Even now, if the Order of Hermes decides to spare me, I wonder how much of my destiny I can shape. There are certain rules that must be followed or they’ll kill me. Still, honestly, I’m not too worried about the rules. From the list they’ve read to me, the only one that I’ve violated so far is dabbling in infernal knowledge, and I really have only dabbled with it, thank God. Otherwise, they would’ve killed me right when they found me.

I think they’ll allow me freedom of choice, at least after my apprenticeship is complete, assuming someone comes forward and offers me one. I only have a few more years towards completion of an apprenticeship anyway. I think it also depends on who decides to take me in. Truthfully, I’m bitter about the whole thing. How can they claim they’re any different from Dugald? They choose which wizards live and which ones die based off of arbitrary rules. If you didn’t know the rules, as I didn’t, if they think that you’re too much of a threat, they kill you anyway. It seems my choices used to be life in a gilded cage or life in a cage of thorns. Now, my choice is life or death, and I don’t get to know the nature of my cage, but those rules alerted me to the fact that I’ll still be within one.

Still, on that day with Dugald singing to me, while I was recovering from a high fever, I realized that the most important thing to me was finding a companion. I needed someone to relate to, to love, and love me in return. I was so unbearably lonely. When I looked at Dugald, I saw myself in a few years. He was so desperate for someone to relate to that he was trying to win over the affection of his own slave. He could talk to me because I had no choice but to listen, and he didn’t consider me a threat.

Honestly, it made me wish I could relate to him, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t fathom why he did what he did and what reward could possibly make up for the kind of corruption his soul had endured. I wanted to like him, or even to love him, but we were too different. I thought about trying to change for him, but I knew that I couldn’t, at least, not enough. As for my Father, I had to forgive him before I would consider forging some sort of relationship with him. And, as for his choice of a knight in shining armor for me, choosing who I would marry was more important to me than simply marrying the first person that offered.

I decided that night, that one day I would find a true companion. Still, until then, I would play along with Dugald, and I would try my best to find some good in him. He was right about one thing, for now all we had was each other, sad but true.

Ursus Arctos Horriblis

2011-02-04T07:12:00.000-08:00

Hello all,

Here is another writing sample for you. I don't think the dark fantasy story is quite ready for a writing sample yet, so this is part of one of my old short stories to tide you over. This was created for an anthology about zombie animals, and I put a different spin on the Wendigo myth. I hope you enjoy it.

The main characters are a group of Yellowstone park rangers. The youngest is Joey. The eldest is a member of the Cree tribe named Leon. And, the senior park ranger is a thirty six year old named Ted. They're investigating the deaths of campers in the area. In this scene, two campers that have just been attacked by the zombie bear have taken shelter with them, Bill and Melissa. They're friend, Justin was killed by the bear. Joey is patrolling the campsite, keeping a lookout for the dispatch unit and the other two rangers are inside the campsite talking to the two campers.

Warning: For those with a weak disposition, this story does include graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

Joey looked around warily, jumping at every sound. He kept thinking that he saw the flash of one eye in the woods next to him, only to find that it was a lighting bug or a trick of the flashlight he was holding. One time he really did see the eye shine of an animal, only to find out that it was a raccoon.

Joey whispered “Keep it together. You’re as paranoid as those kids.”

He sniffed the air. He couldn’t quite place the smell, but there was a rank odor coming from the woods close by.

Joey looked down and saw some rotting elk fur beneath his feet.

He chuckled, “Yeah, smooth. There’s your smell—this is where the elk carcass was…”

Joey’s voice was lost as he saw a large shape lumbering towards him fast. The stench hit him so quickly and so thickly that it made him feel as though a layer of decaying skin washed across his body. The Grizzly bear stood on its hindquarters, coming up to its full size of twelve feet, inches from his face. It was mangy. Fur and flesh was missing along its back, exposing part of a jagged backbone. Joey knew the creature was too close to shoot, so he grabbed the machete instead, swinging it forward and screaming as the strange, half mangled face bellowed back down at him. He pulled the machete along the bloated exposed belly, and was surprised how quickly and easily it sliced through, as though there wasn’t any fat left in the bear’s body. He noted with sick satisfaction that its intestines were spilling to the ground, a thick tangle like the slimy body of a huge worm—but the bear didn’t seem to notice.

Joey screamed louder as a huge claw bore down on his shoulder. He heard a sickening snap that immediately made him feel nauseas as his collarbone snapped in two. He felt as though he was blacking out from the red and green pain that flashed in front of his eyes as the bear put its massive weight on his broken bone, but he saw the bear’s face within inches of his own for a moment. There really were three holes in its head that oozed pus, but not blood. Still, to his horror he realized it wasn’t pus oozing from the wounds, but white writhing maggots. Its remaining eye was as empty as the one on the left side of its face. It didn’t breathe, but the smell was still emanating from the mouth.

Joey had just enough time to think, “This is it. I’m going to die…”

But then, a crossbow bolt cut through the air above him, snaking its way into the bear monster’s shoulder. It bellowed with rage and stood up, giving Joey just enough time to roll away from it. The pain in his shoulder didn’t even detract from his desire to run. He heard Ted shouting something and opening fire. The bullets tore through the skin on the bear’s chest, but it just seemed to get angrier, swiping at the air as though trying to bat the bullets out of its path. Joey saw a taser wire hit the creature in the leg, but it actually grabbed the wire and pulled it off, like a horse’s tail swatting an annoying fly. Joey heard Melissa and Bill screaming from inside of the tent and could see their silhouettes holding one another.

Joey shouted in a terrified wail, “IT ISN’T ALIVE! THAT WON’T WORK! TED, LOOK OUT!”

The bear was charging straight towards Ted, but Leon turned, grabbing a flaming log from the fire and then Leon stepped between Ted and the monstrous bear. The moment the fire waved in front of the bear’s face, it stopped and stood up, snarling and writhing as though the fact it had to stop made its body literally shake with rage. The creature turned and lumbered back into the forest, but none of them heard it running away. It was still close to the camp, clearly waiting for a better opportunity.

Joey somehow pulled himself along the ground, wanting to stay as far from the edge of the campsite as possible. Ted grabbed Joey around the chest and pulled him to the center of the campsite. The pain was causing black specks to creep into the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t care. The further away from the forest’s edge he was, the safer he felt. As his eyes fell on his arm, he was surprised to see that his blood was seeping down it in long rivulets. The wound itself was becoming numb, unless someone jostled the bone.

Ted muttered, “This looks bad, Joey. We need to set this right now. Leon, can you get the med kit and work on the bleeding? I’m going work on a sling for the bone.”
Joey stammered, “How bad is it?”

Ted said, “You’re collarbone has an open fracture, but what I’m worried about is blood loss. Those are some deep grooves.”

Leon said, “We’ve got to wash these lacerations. We’ll be lucky if they don’t get infected.”

Joey screamed as Leon washed them. Everything stung and replaced the achiness he felt with a sharp stabbing pain. He was going in and out of consciousness. Melissa was standing over him crying, making him feel even worse. Still, from the satisfied look on Leon and Ted’s faces he could tell they were nearly finished treating his injuries.

Bill whispered, “Is it gone?”

Ted shook his head, “I don’t think so. I think it’s watching us--I need to call the dispatch unit right away!”

Ted turned away from the group to make another distress call, but only heard static as a reply.

Leon said, “You can’t get them, can you?”

Ted shook his head, “They only sent two people. If they’re anywhere nearby, they’re probably already dead.”

Joey groaned but didn’t say anything, too exhausted to speak.

Leon pointed to the ground at the edge of the campsite, “Ted, what’s that on the ground?”

Joey muttered, “I already know what it is. It’s the bear’s intestine. I cut it out.”

Ted gasped, “It…it can’t be.”

Joey said, “Sorry I doubted you, Bill, Melissa. You were right. The goddamn bear is already dead.”

Leon cursed in his own language and sat heavily on the stump next to the fire.

Ted said, “I believe you. So, what does that make it?”

Bill said, “A zombie?”

Melissa whispered, “A demon bear.”

Joey said, “A monster.”

Leon said, “I have a few theories, myself.”

Ted said, “Let’s hear them.”

Leon said, “I think that it might be all of those things. Ted, you told me that the bear first attacked a group of three hunters and, from the look of their guns, each one got one shot off at the bear before they were killed. The bodies were all torn up and missing some flesh.”

Bill said, “This has happened before? Why didn’t you say something?”

Ted said, “We tried to warn you.”

Leon continued as though he hadn’t heard the interruption, “Now, my guess was that the bear attacked them when it was alive and ate some of their flesh. There’s a legend among our tribe of an evil spirit called a Wendigo.”

Joey said in a weak voice, “That didn’t look anything like a werewolf to me.”
Leon rolled his eyes, “Why do people always think a Wendigo is a werewolf? It isn’t. It’s a cannibalistic spirit that possesses human beings so that they’ll eat each other in desperate situations.”

Ted said, “What does that have to do with the bear?”

Leon said, “Well, traditionally it possesses humans, but what if this time it
didn’t? What if this time it possessed the body of that bear as it was dying? The Wendigo has an insatiable hunger for human flesh that will never be quenched. This creature has been taking chunks out of the body it kills, then quickly moves on to the next living human it sees. And, since it possessed a bear, it’s eating the flesh of animals as well. And, even if it isn’t a Wendigo specifically, it’s clearly possessed by an evil Manitou and needs to be destroyed.”

Joey said, “Leon, I’m sorry I ever made fun of your stories…I was so stupid!”

Ted could tell Leon was touched by the hint of a smile on his face.

Still, Leon said, “Shhh…you need to rest, Joey.”

Ted said, “We can’t destroy a spirit.”

Leon said, “But we can destroy the body it inhabits.”

Bill said, “Fire. It’s afraid of fire! That must be the only thing that can really destroy it.”

Joey said in a delirious voice, “Yes, zombies don’t like fire.”

Melissa stammered, “I don’t want to fight it. Can’t we just go home? Didn’t you come in a car?”

Ted said, “We did, but it’s parked all the way at the street. That thing is still out there waiting for us. Joey’s in no shape to move either. I’m sure in a few hours the other rangers will wonder what happened to the dispatch team and send someone else, but there’s no telling when that thing might come back.”

Bill said, “What do we have, as far as fire supplies go?”

Ted said, “There are ten flares left, a box of lighter fluid, matches, flint and tinder, and, of course, our bonfire.”

Joey asked, “Leon, can’t you banish the spirit or something?”

Leon sighed, “It isn’t that easy. If I had time I could prepare some medicine to repel evil spirits, or do a dance to ward off the creature, but we might not have time for that. But there is something we do have time for.”
Leon went to the medical bag and took the spare roll of bandages and began wrapping them around the tips of his arrows, then doused them with lighter fluid.

Ted said, “Flaming arrows?”

Joey chuckled, “This goes against everything we’ve ever learned about fire safety.”

Bill grinned, “Screw fire safety!”

Ted said, “Okay. Everyone grab a piece of wood from the fire to use as a torch. If it comes towards you, try to hit it with the fire.”

Bill grabbed the lighter fluid, “I’ll try to use this on it.”

Ted shook his head, “Bad idea, Bill. None of us want to get that close.”

Bill said in a choked voice, “I do. Justin was my best friend.”

Melissa moaned, “No, Bill! Don’t do it.”

Bill said, “I have a feeling that if it comes back, we’ve only got one shot at this. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Melissa burst into tears.

Joey stammered, “Guys, I think I smell it.”

The odor enveloped them, cutting off all of their voices with the thick stench of death.

Leon motioned to Ted that he was going to climb into a tree to get a better angle on his crossbow. He had only had time to make four flaming arrows. Ted nodded, knowing he would have to make every shot count. This time, all of them heard it coming. It was pushing small trees aside, plowing through foliage and making its presence known to them.

Busy busy week.

2011-01-28T12:51:00.000-08:00

Hello all,

Well, this has been a very busy week, but it's finally Friday! Hooray! And, I got to write again today so I'm in a very good mood. I'm about thirty thousand words into my most recent novelization and I think it's coming along pretty well. Still, I'm not sure if this one is up to my standards, so I might not try to publish it. That doesn't matter though. The point is I'm having lots of fun writing it and it's keeping my creativity active. Also, I'm learning a lot about writing in first person. I think I will put a section of it up on the blog here when I get to a good stopping point, but until then, I'll just keep writing on it in my free time. This is the same one I mentioned before, the dark fantasy story. (I haven't come up with a title yet. Titles usually come to me after the book is finished.)

In other news, I auditioned for the church band and managed to get a singing position. I'll also be joining the choir this coming summer. I'm looking very forward to it. I love singing and if I can praise God with one of my talents, then excellent. It'll also be a good opportunity for me to help out at the church and meet some new people as well. I was pretty nervous about the audition at first because it's been a long time since I've tried out for that sort of thing. Still, it sounds like they needed another soprano, so it worked out perfectly.

I also had a doctor's appointment this week that went pretty well. I was having a few problems and was a little worried, but it turned out, thankfully, to be nothing unusual. Thank goodness. So, now that my house is clean, the audition is over, the doctor's appointment went well, and I've gotten some writing done, I can officially say that this has been a good week. I think the weekend will be good as well, but it's going to be just as busy. Tonight is a gaming night, tomorrow I celebrate two birthdays, and on Sunday I got to church and celebrate a third birthday as well!

Well, that's it for now. I think next week I'll put up a writing sample from some of my old work for a blog entry. I hope you'll enjoy it. Keep reading and writing and take care.

The last few weeks...

2011-01-21T08:17:00.000-08:00

Man, I've been flying through January! I can't believe it's already almost over.

Before I begin, let me just say I'm going to work extra hard to keep up this blog. I'm sorry that I haven't written much, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you everything that's been going on. (This will be a long entry, since there's a lot to catch up on.)

First of all, I've been working on e-publishing my first novel, "Eternity Game." When I'm finished, it'll be free to download on at least the Kindle and the Nook. The first book will be free, so I'm hoping, when I publish the second and third, those that like it will show their support by buying them. I still need to design a cover and change the format of the manuscript. I've downloaded the program "Calibri" to convert the Word document into e-book format (I know, it doesn't do Word documents, but it does do RTFs, which you can make through Word). I've heard good things about it. I also proofread the manuscript one more time. I'm sure I didn't catch everything, but I feel confident that it at least doesn't look unprofessional. This process will probably take a few more weeks, but I think it will be finished, or very close to being finished, by February.

I've also started trying to promote myself through more than just this blog. I just joined Twitter under the name WriterNancyGray. I've also made an account on Amwriting.org. Even though I've really just gotten started on these things, I'm hoping to keep them up as well. The next step is joining forums I enjoy and becoming more involved on the Amwriting site, which I plan to do. I've been wanting to become more involved in the writing community anyway, this e-pub stuff just kind of made me quit dragging my feet.

Christmas went pretty well. We threw one party which was a lot of fun, and went to a New Years party with our friends which was also very fun. We spent some time with our families, and most of the presents we got this year were things that we really needed. It's a telltale sign that you're getting older when the gifts you get the most excited about are a new comforter for the bed, an electric can opener, a punch bowl, and a rug shampooer. Still, it wasn't all good this time around. Sadly, the next day, the snow day, one of our cats died. We don't know how it happened. We think it happened in the middle of the night, and it was probably pretty sudden, possibly from a heart attack or aneurysm. She was a young cat, and we miss her very much. Even though I've been taking it pretty hard, the way I see it, taking care of her was a gift from God. We were lucky we got to be her steward, and we'll see her again someday. It was very sad though.

I didn't really make many resolutions for New Years. My only resolution for this year was to get pregnant. I think that will probably happen soon. I got off the pills in December and I'm letting nature take it's course. Wish me luck. Since I'll be looking to have a baby, I can't really make a resolution to lose weight, so I didn't. Still, I've decided that I'm going to try to get back into exercising everyday and start getting up early. Getting up early has been difficult, but I've been doing it. That will probably go out the window when I get pregnant though. As for the exercise, I've been using my exercise bike almost every day, but what I'd really like to do is take some sort of dance class. We'll see.

I'm still writing on that fantasy story. So far, I don't think it's too bad. Like I said, it's an experiment in writing in the first person. I'm on page 70, about 27,000 words into it. So far, so good. I might put a writing sample from it up in the near future. It's a very dark story, to the point that I feel it's almost too dark. It needs some sort of relief, maybe not comic relief, but some sort of lull in the abuse of the main character. I'll have to think on it. Still, I'm glad to say that I'm finally inspired to write again and the writer's block is (for now) officially over. Thank you, Jesus!

I guess that pretty much catches me up to where I am now. Like I said, I'll try to be more diligent on writing in this blog. Like I said, my goal is once a week, and this is, mind you, a goal not a resolution. Everyone breaks their New Year's resolutions, but I try to take my goals seriously. (And, before you start pointing fingers and asking, "What about that web comic?" Let me clarify, I take goals seriously only if they are attainable and don't make me feel bad about myself. I've finally admitted that I've lost my touch at graphic design. Hopefully, I won't lose my touch on writing.

TRONtastic!

2010-12-30T07:13:00.000-08:00

Tron Legacy was absolutely nerdgasmic.

This is the HISHE rap from the makers of "How it Should Have Ended." This is about the original Tron movie and is also awesome.

Hold up, wait a minute, let me put some quarters in it...

Where to start? First of all, let me say that I owned Tron on the Beta machine. Yep, I was born in 1982 when the original Tron was made. So, the thought of a new Tron movie was nostalgic for me as I'm sure it was for a lot of people. Still, I never expected what we got...

The film was absolutely awesome. The storyline was interesting. The characters were good. (Though, some of my friends felt that the characters needed to be more developed. Still, I felt like they did a good enough job. The focus of the movie was action, and the characters were still very likable.) The effects were very cool, and above all, it had the feel of the original movie, only somehow even more awesome.

First off, let me say that I think critics judged this movie a bit too harshly. People who wanted to see this movie got exactly what they wanted. It was a continuation of the original Tron movie. It's assumed that people going to see this movie know about the original characters involved and know the general plot of the first movie. For those who don't, I suggest you get the movie "Tron" from Netflix and check it out before watching this film. Tron is also basically an action film for nerds, and critics tend to dislike action films and judge them harshly, the same way that they do horror films. Now, that being said, there are some very interesting things they did with this movie that separate it from the original.

I guess I should start with the new storyline. The basic storyline is that Flynn disappears unexpectedly one day while his child, Sam, is seven. Sam, is left behind, wondering what happened to his Father. He grows up as a bit of a rebel. While he owns most of the company that Flynn left behind, the board of directors really run the company and want to sell their software to make more of a profit. The movie starts with Sam sabotaging the company so that their new software is free to download, something his Father would have wanted. He never has gotten over the loss of his Father, and it shows in the fact he doesn't have many friends and is very reclusive, spending most of his efforts counteracting the board from his Father's company, yet not caring enough to take it over. When Alan gives him the message that his Father paged him, he goes to Flynn's old arcade, only to find a computer running. He accidentally activates the laser behind him, and is transported into the digital universe. He's rounded up as a rogue program and forced to participate in the games. When he's wounded by the program "Rinzler" he bleeds in the game world, proving him to be a "user." He's then taken to Clu, Flynn's program, and sentenced to death via the game grid. However, he is rescued by a program named "Quorra" and taken to his Father. He finds out he only has eight hours to escape from the game universe or he'll be stuck there forever like his Father.

The game grid is much more interesting than in the original movie. They added ramps to the light cycle game, and the ability to mess with gravity to the disk game. The sequences in the game grid seemed a lot more exciting. My only criticism is that I wish one of the other players had survived the light cycle game, but that was just because of nostalgia reasons regarding the first movie.

The concepts in this movie were a lot more abstract. There's mention of new life springing up from within the digital world, a sort of artificial intelligence that contained more wisdom than mankind could comprehend. There are also many allegories for religion which surprised me. Flynn was more like a God figure, and his program Clu was more of a Satan figure. Clu was trying to create a world of perfection, which became a world of tyranny as he started realizing that he and the real Flynn differed on ideas of the perfect utopia. Clu actually is a digital representation of Jeff Bridges (the actor playing Flynn), making him look young (it was a very impressive effect), while Flynn looks the age he's supposed to be in the movie, but he somehow seems more spiritual, sitting back and watching things unfold.

My one complaint with this movie was that I wanted more. I was disappointed with the ending because it is kind of open ended and there are a lot of unanswered questions. For one thing, though this is a small detail, I wanted to find out how Quorra met Zuse. I also am not sure what happened to Zuse. Though I think we're supposed to assume he is dead, but he seemed a bit too smart to have fallen for that trap. Also, what happens to Tron? What happened to the rest of the game world? And, though this is a bit of a philosoraptor question (if you don't know what philosoraptor is, google it), if a digital program goes into the real world, when it bleeds does it bleed pixels? What are the repercussions of something like that being in the real world? And, finally, what happened to Lora and her program Yori? They just kind of cut them out of the movie and she was an important character in the first film. I have to assume that Lora died in the real world and Yori was derezzed in the game world since neither of them are ever mentioned, but it would've been nice if they mentioned what happened to her so you don't have to just guess.

Still, those are my only complaints. This is an excellent movie and I highly recommend it to anyone who liked "Tron." This is just as good if not better.

Blarg...busy month.

2010-12-17T11:01:00.000-08:00

Hello again,

This month has been so busy! I've been decorating the house, throwing Christmas parties, and working on a role-playing game that involves me making more than one character (and I overdid it as always). I am also getting ready to attend two birthday parties, and hopefully see Tron this weekend. (I'll probably do another movie review for a change of pace if all goes well.)

Anyway, sorry I haven't been blogging much. This month has flown by, so I'm going to sum up briefly what I've been up to.

So far, the writer's block is still plaguing me, so I've been writing some very detailed and long character histories and tormenting my GM's with them. To be fair, I have told them they don't have to read the long epic tome I present them with, that I can paraphrase it, but thus far they've still read it anyway. I might post a section of one of those if I deem it to be good enough, but otherwise it won't see the light of day.

I'm using the opportunity to experiment on writing in the first person perspective, since I usually write in third for just about all of my stories. The character history I'm working on now is actually pretty dark. It's also set in a general fantasy medieval time period, so I might be able to publish it if I do a good enough job. Still, with writer's block, usually these sort of stories are just written to keep me from getting too rusty.

I threw my annual Christmas party last week. It was a big success. I think everyone had a good time. There was more than enough food, as always. We make the Christmas Party a sort of pot-luck dinner. We all had a good meal, watched Christmas movies, and played Rock Band. Mission accomplished!

This week, was probably one of the worst weeks ever for me. A stray pit bull showed up in our yard. He was slightly aggressive and very nervous about people, and he was practically starving. He wasn't so thin that he was a skeleton, but he wasn't a healthy weight. He warmed up to me and hated my husband, and since we have cats (and I couldn't be sure he was healthy since he wouldn't let me close enough to put a leash on him) I couldn't let him inside. Also, our yard isn't fenced in so I couldn't keep him if I wanted to.

Long story short, I had to call the pound on him because he seemed a little too dangerous, and honestly, it was far crueler to do nothing and let him starve or freeze to death. I'm so softhearted when it comes to animals, it tore me up to do it. I tried to find a no-kill shelter, but no one seems to be taking new animals, especially pit bulls. It was one the hardest things I've had to do and I still don't feel good about it. Still, there are children in this neighborhood and the dog was obviously abused and slightly aggressive--being responsible sucks ALOT. FML.

Still, that incident has made me think about getting a dog at some point. I'm thinking of rescuing a racing greyhound when the time comes. Still, we'll need the yard fenced in entirely, and possibly an addition on the house before that happens. It'll have to be after the baby, but it is something to think about.

Well, that's about it. I've been busy busy busy. I'm thinking at this point that my new years resolutions will be to have a baby and beat the writer's block, both goals that I think are attainable for next year.

WoW fanfic...

2010-11-16T11:49:00.000-08:00

Since this didn't win the World of Warcraft writing competition, I'm going to put it up as a writing sample for you to enjoy. I'm pretty sure that fanfics are covered under fair use, but if Blizzard decides they don't want me to list it, I'll take it down. In the meantime, please enjoy my story in the World of Warcraft Universe (tm Blizzard Entertainment Company), "Coping With Death."

Bramwell said a silent prayer to the Light as he strapped his sword onto his belt. It was dull around the edges and a bit rusty. He just hoped it would be enough to protect his family. He could hear the creatures’ pitiful moans outside his door as they scratched at the wood, too weak to do much more than make a shallow scratch. The sound made a shiver run down his spine as he imagined the splinters beneath their weathered fingernails, and as he heard the clinking of their skeletal joints. It had been a long time since he’d seen any undead in Ravenhill Cemetery, much less since he heard them clawing at his own door.

Grace said in a terrified whisper, “Please, don’t. Maybe they’ll go away.”

Bramwell sighed, “I’m sorry, Love, but it’s part of my job. Besides, you know that they won’t, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the boys.”

Grace asked, “But, why are they here?”

Bramwell said, “Not sure. Maybe a tree’s roots were encroaching on a grave or two. I’ll take care of the problem and then hopefully the others will rest easy.”

Bramwell’s children were staring at the door in rapt fascination. Garret, being nine, was more excited than scared, but Bertram hid his face in his older brother’s arm and whimpered slightly, especially when he noticed a few flecks of wood and sawdust fluttering to the ground like snowflakes on Winter Veil. The skeletal nails were making progress, creating a very small scratch mark through the wood, almost enough to see through.

Garret whispered to his five year old brother, “I dare you to go touch it.”

Bertram said, “No. You touch it.”

Grace snapped, “Both of you stay away from that door and away from the windows.”

Bramwell said, “I’m going out back. You two listen to your Mother, and no matter what, you keep that door and the windows locked.”

Grace muttered, “Please, be careful.”

Bramwell kissed her and whispered, “I’ll be fine, Grace.”

Bramwell walked out of the back door of his house. The first thing that struck him was the smell. It was the earthy smell of fresh grave soil combined with the sickeningly sweet stench of rotten meat. It was coming from a corpse that was limping towards him in the distance. The first two were still clawing at his front door, but this one was ambling around the house to search for another way in. The corpse in front of him looked so decomposed that it wasn’t even recognizable. He was glad. Bramwell buried half of the people in the cemetery and he didn’t like the thought of seeing one of them as a monster.

“Small favors,” Bramwell grumbled.

He reached for his sword at his side and waved his other arm in the air, yelling, “Come on, this way, Beastie!”

The creature’s dry eyes seemed to gleam with its ravenous craving as it shambled faster in his direction. It reached its arms out towards him, revealing thick exposed cords of sinewy muscle that made Bramwell feel like retching. Still, he stood his ground.

With one quick pull, Bramwell freed his sword and it went arching through the air at the creature’s head. The beast didn’t have time to react as the blade severed its head from its shoulders. The body swayed for a moment, and then the right arm swiped at Bramwell before the corpse fell unceremoniously to the ground. The blow was enough to leave a nasty gash across Bramwell’s chest.

Bramwell touched the wound gingerly. It was shallow, but it burned.

Bramwell thought, “If the rest of these things don’t do the job, Grace is going to kill me.”

The sound of the struggle was enough to draw the other creatures from the front of the house. One of them was the corpse of a young woman. There was still enough flesh on her bones that Bramwell recognized her. She was the daughter of the Town Crier. She died when she was thrown from her horse, and the disturbing tilt of her neck gave her away. The other was an old man that was entirely skeletal, probably a corpse buried before Bramwell became the caretaker.

Bramwell shouted, “Come on. I’m ready for you.”

The skeletal man ran towards him first. Bramwell just managed to dodge out of the way, cringing as the corpse’s sharp nails that just barely missed his eyes. He struck it with the sword and managed to cut one of the arms off, but that wasn’t enough to stop it. The creature lashed out again, this time much faster than he expected, and its nails went deeply into his arm. Bramwell screamed in surprise and pain as he swung the sword directly into the skeleton’s spine, slicing it in half—but, not before the woman grabbed him from behind, and sank her teeth into his shoulder. Bramwell shrieked and tried to pull away, but her grasp was surprisingly strong and he found himself unable to move.

Bramwell thought, “Is this really how I’m going to die? Killed by one of the people I buried?”

Grace shouted from behind them, “Let go of him!”

There was a sickening squelching sound as Grace slammed the end of a pitch fork through the woman’s back. The edges of it nicked Bramwell’s back as the prongs exited through her chest. Grace turned to the side, using the leverage of the pitch fork to swing the woman’s body away from Bramwell, giving him an opportunity to attack. The sword came down on the woman’s broken neck and she toppled over.

Bramwell grinned and said, “Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?”

Grace said, “You told us to keep the front door or the windows locked—and don’t sass me, Mister. You said you would be fine. Look at you!”

Bramwell touched the wound on his shoulder and grinned sheepishly.

Grace muttered, “Are there any more of them?”

Bramwell said, “I don’t think so. They would’ve made their way to the house by now, poor things.”

Grace said, “Poor things? They’re monsters!”

Bramwell said, “I think they only come towards houses and settlements because somewhere deep down they remember what they’re missing.”

Grace asked, “Then why do they attack?”

Bramwell shrugged, “Bitterness, maybe? Maybe they’re attracted to the warmth of our flesh too. Either way, I need to find out what disturbed their sleep.”

Grace said, “Not tonight. You need to be bandaged, and you need to rest.”

Bramwell sighed and said, “You’re right. But, first thing in the morning I’m going to Grand Hamlet to get the priest. I’ll feel better once the ground is consecrated again.”

Grace glanced at the woman’s body and said, “That’s the Crier’s daughter, isn’t it?”

Bramwell said, “I believe it is.”

Grace asked, “Are we going to tell him?”

Bramwell said, “I don’t think we should. I’ll take her ring to put in the coffin and bury the others’ possessions, tomorrow. We have to burn these bodies tonight, though. It’s the only way to be sure that they won’t get back up.”

Bramwell grabbed the few possessions the corpses’ still had. He took the woman’s ring, the decomposed corpse’s belt buckle, and the old skeletal man’s dagger that was still strapped to his waist, unused. He had heard rumors that some undead used weapons, but in his experience they all seemed like mindless animals, fighting more on instinct than with any real skill. The boys peered out of the door behind them, looking with morbid fascination at the pile of bodies.

Bertram asked, “Are you really going to burn them, Daddy?”

Bramwell said, “I’m afraid so, Son.”

Garret asked, “Can we watch?”

Bramwell glanced at Grace. She slowly shook her head. Still, Garret would probably one day be the caretaker when Bramwell was too old. He needed to see the process.

Bramwell said, “Okay, but after that it’s off to bed for both of you.”

Grace scowled at him but shrugged and headed inside, muttering about preparing the bandages. Bramwell understood why. Burning bodies was nasty business. The smell was sickening and the sight was worse.

Bramwell sat watching the fire with his arms around his boys. His wounds were aching and he was starting to feel feverish. Still, he felt a solemn peace as he watched the bodies burning away, knowing their souls were finally at rest. He was never very religious, but he was always proud of his job and the respect he showed for the dead of Ravenhill. A graveyard was supposed to be a peaceful place, and he intended to keep it that way.

As they retired for the evening, Grace dressed his wounds. She used a salve she made from Silverleaf and Peacebloom to speed up the healing process. Even though she knew about herbs, Grace never knew how to actually boil them into an elixir. Bramwell was grateful that tonight she didn’t try. Supposedly if the two ingredients were boiled together they would heal almost any injury within the day. Still, Bramwell knew from experience, if brewed incorrectly, they would cause terrible stomach cramps and violent vomiting. Even if the salve didn’t heal the wounds, it dulled the pain, which was enough.

Grace muttered, “You’ve got to be more careful. What would the kids and I do without you?”

Bramwell laughed, “You looked like you took pretty good care of yourself out there without my help.”

Grace said, “I’m serious. They could’ve killed you tonight. You’re feverish. I
want the priest to look at you before you bring him here.”

Bramwell rolled his eyes, “He’s got more serious things to worry about than taking care of a few minor cuts and bruises.”

Grace said, “These aren’t minor cuts, Bramwell. They’re red and infected and there’s green pus in them.”

Bramwell looked in the mirror and flinched. She was right. The cuts looked gangrenous even though they were fresh, especially on the bite mark. It was unnatural…

Bramwell said, “Okay, I’ll have him take a look at them too.”

Grace muttered, “Bramwell, I’ve been thinking. Do you think the Defias are right?”

Bramwell asked, “What? Why would you even think that?”

Grace said, “I heard one of their representatives talking last time I went into town. They said that Stormwind doesn’t care about our city and that if something bad ever happened here they wouldn’t even send help. Do you think that’s true?”

Bramwell said, “No, of course not. We’re loyal servants of the King just like everyone else. We pay our tithes to the church, the taxes to the city. If something happens, I know they’ll send someone.”

Grace sighed and said, “It’s just, you’re the caretaker of the graveyard. It shouldn’t be your job to fight those things whenever they show up. Shouldn’t there be a guard or something?”

Bramwell said, “There won’t need to be once the priest consecrates the ground. Don’t worry.”

Grace asked, “Will you just humor me and send a letter to Stromwind asking for a few guards? I have a really bad feeling that things are going to get worse. There haven’t been any attacks in months. Why are they starting up now?”

Bramwell said, “I don’t know. But, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll send the letter tomorrow.”

#

Bramwell felt worse when he woke up in the morning. The sheets were moist with sweat, making him feel as though he was coated with slime, like a snail retracing its path. There was blood on the sheets where his wounds had reopened in the middle of the night. Still, at least the day was bright and it looked like good weather for travelling.

Bramwell wrote the letter to Stormwind and sealed it, putting it in his coat pocket. Then, he made his rounds in the cemetery and found the three unearthed graves. It was easy to tell them apart and he finished his small burial ceremony for the retrieved objects in a solemn silence. He also carefully scattered the ashes from the human bonfire from the night before, reciting a little song he heard from his Father that was supposed to protect against evil. Still, as far as Bramwell was concerned, the song sounded more like a necromancer’s chant.

Bramwell’s Father also used to say, “Pray to the dark or the light, Bram. The result is really up to you.”

It made him wonder about his Father…

When Bramwell finished, his boys were up and eating breakfast. He joined them at the table.

Garret asked, “Did you bury the stuff from last night?”

Bramwell said, “Yep, and scattered the ashes.”

Garret asked, “Are you really going to Grand Hamlet?”

Bramwell said, “Yes. I’ll probably be home by nightfall with the priest. Don’t wait up for me though. It really depends on if the weather holds out, and when the priest can leave.”

Bertram asked, “Can you get me some peppermint candies?”

Bramwell asked, “You’ve been talking to the Sven boy again, haven’t you?”

Bertram blushed, “Well, his Dad always brings him back candies when he goes.”

Bramwell chuckled and said, “Well, if you promise to be good for your Mother while I’m away.”

Bertram beamed and said, “I promise!”

Garret asked, hopefully, “Oh, and maybe some fireworks?”

Bramwell said, “We’ll see. What about you, Grace? Should I bring you back something special for putting up with me?”

He winked.

Grace laughed and said, “Maybe some beauty crème for all the wrinkles you give me.”

Bramwell grinned and said, “Love you, Grace.”

Grace smiled, “I love you too. Promise me something…”

Bramwell said, “Anything.”

Grace took the pendant from around her neck and walked over to Bramwell, putting it around his.

Grace said, “Wear this for luck. It was Dad’s. It’s just superstition, but he said this pendant used to keep him safe.”

Bramwell said, “I’ll wear it, but you’re really worrying too much. I’m just a little tired from the work this morning.”

Bramwell wiped the sweat from his brow with a napkin. He hoped that his lie would be enough to convince her that he was okay. He was starting to get chills and he still had a fever. The bite mark was burning again.

Bramwell finished his breakfast and then went into his tool shed to sharpen his sword. Even though he hoped he wouldn’t need it, it was dangerous to travel without one. The animals were becoming more aggressive, the Defias had a presence in the land, and there were even reports of Ogre sightings in the lower sections of Duskwood. The more he thought about it, the more he began think his wife was right. Maybe it was about time that one of the citizens wrote a letter to Stormwind. He just hoped that his letter wouldn’t be ignored.

#

As the cart hitched down the road towards Grand Hamlet, Bramwell began to feel uneasy. Something about the road was too silent. He could hear the clop of his old horse’s hooves on the cobblestones echoing down the road like the beating of a drum. His head pounded with every hoof beat. He had a high fever now and his wounds ached with even the slight movement of the cart. Bramwell expected to see more people on the roads between Ravenhill and the city, but the streets were practically deserted.

Bramwell thought, “It’s just my nerves. The quiet is getting to me, or the fever.”

Still, as he continued onward, he noticed something that gave him pause. There was a person running in the woods on the side of the road. He stopped the cart and reached for his sword, thinking it was one of the Defias Brotherhood, a bandit. Then, he saw the green sheen to her skin and realized he was seeing an Orc for the first time in his life. She paused and stared at him for a moment. He stopped the cart and stared back, bewildered.

Bramwell thought, frantically, “What is an Orc doing in Ravenhill?”

The Orc sneered at him and released series of sharp grunts. Its voice sounded like a wild Goretusk trying to attract a mate. The very sound of the creature disgusted him. Still, he realized far too late that the Orc wasn’t looking at him, but was calling to the group on the other side of the cart.

Bramwell heard the bushes next to him rustling and grabbed his sword, but the group was on him immediately. Two more Orcs came out of the underbrush, followed by a large creature that resembled a rough cross between a human and a bull. Two creatures which resembled the undead he fought the previous night were also there, but they were waiting in the bushes. These had daggers and were brandishing them as though they knew how to use them quite well.

Still, Bramwell didn’t have time to take in the entire scene. By the time his sword was unsheathed and he was standing up to fight, the black, bull-like creature was already on the cart with him. The last thing Bramwell saw was the head of a huge hammer rushing towards his face with enough power pushing it forward to splinter a sapling.

Bramwell heard a sickening muffled snap, like the sound of a bone shattering inside of a dog’s jaws. He knew the sound came from his neck. Darkness was closing in around his eyes, but then he thought of his family. If the group of Horde creatures ended up at his house, his family would be helpless. They didn’t have even a sword for protection or another horse to use to escape. The thought made his blood boil and even as his mind seemed to drift away, somehow he realized that his body was still moving. He could hear the surprised grunts and squeals from his opponents and the thought gave him sick satisfaction. Everything was tinted in red and the thick smell of copper was misting in the air around him. Slowly, the red sight and smell overcame all of his emotions and thoughts, and Bramwell fell into darkness.

#

A woman’s scream awoke Bramwell from what felt like a terrible nightmare, he was lying down on a metal table and looking at a high stone ceiling. He tried get up, but his hands and feet were strapped down. Glancing around him made him want to panic. There were body parts hanging from the ceiling, littered around the room, and a giant abomination of flesh and bone was lying on a table next to him. Even though the creature appeared to be lifeless, for some reason he could easily imagine it getting up and lumbering around, and if it did he felt as though he would lose his mind.

Bramwell heard the woman screaming again, and an impatient voice said, “Just take the potion you stupid wench!”

The woman must’ve taken the potion because after a sick gurgling sound there was nothing but silence.

The voice said, “Interesting reaction.”

Bramwell strained to see who the voice belonged to, but he didn’t have to wait long as the voice’s owner approached him. Bramwell immediately recognized that the man was one of the living dead, like the ones he fought occasionally in the graveyard, but this creature was like none he had ever seen. He was a tall dead man with wild white hair sticking out in all directions and tinted green flesh. His eyes glittered with malice and intelligence and they seemed to glow yellow in the darkness. He was carrying an empty vial in his hand and was preoccupied with the alchemy set next to the table, but only for a moment.

He turned to Bramwell, “Awake at last, I see.”

Bramwell stammered, “Where am I?”

The undead creature responded, “You’re in the safest of places, My Friend. You’re in Undercity under the watchful eye of Our Lady. My name is Apothecary Grayson.”

Bramwell asked, “Have you been torturing me?”

Grayson said, “I see you don’t remember, as expected. No. I’ve liberated you from what you once were. You were what we call a Scourge, a mindless undead being controlled by demonic forces. You are now one of the Forsaken. You’re free.”

Bramwell frowned. He could vaguely remember feeling a savage rage and the thick taste of blood in his mouth. At the time, the taste was heavenly as though blood and flesh was all he wanted to live for—he shivered.

Grayson grinned and said, “I see you can remember a little.”

Bramwell shouted, “Where is my family?”

Grayson frowned and said, “You were alone when we found you. You died during our ambush, but none of us expected you would turn into a Scourge. Since you were so exceptionally strong and savage, I just had to have you. You killed one of the Orcs and nearly cleaved the Tauren in two before we could restrain you.”

Bramwell asked, “Why were you in Ravenhill?”

Grayson said, “We were on a mission from The Lady herself. She asked us to investigate reports that the Scythe of Elune was in the area. A female Night Elf was supposed to be travelling through Duskwood with the weapon.”

Bramwell asked, “But why did you kill me?”

Grayson said, “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. We were checking the roads to see if she was there and were about to meet up to report our findings when you saw one of our scouts. We couldn’t just let you go. It would jeopardize the mission.”

Bramwell snapped, “Well, was it worth it? Did you find it?”

Grayson shrugged and said, “No. You died in vain. One of your kind found the Scythe first. It had detrimental effects on the entire area. But, at least my personal project of freeing you was a complete success…”

Bramwell asked, “What do you mean it had detrimental effects? What happened?”

Grayson rolled his eyes, “It would only depress you.”

Bramwell said, “I have to know! Tell me, or I swear when you turn me loose I’ll kill myself and ruin your little project.”

Grayson said, “There’s no need to be dramatic. The Scythe summons wolf-like humanoids that are called Worgen. When the man found it, it started summoning them everywhere. Then, a wave of negative energy discharged from the weapon, coating the entire land. All of the trees died, and all the dead rose from their graves as Scourge.”

Bramwell asked, “The dead rose? How many? Where?”

Grayson said, “All of them, in every grave.”

Bramwell began to scream.

Grayson said, “I see. You must’ve been one of the caretakers of a cemetery. That would explain the bite that changed you. If you had a family, it would be best for you to forget them now. They can’t be alive if they lived anywhere near Ravenhill.”

Bramwell said, “That’s not true. You don’t know my wife. She’s strong. She would’ve saved my children. I have to get back.”

Grayson said, “Stop that struggling. You’re in no condition to travel back to Duskwood.”

Grayson’s eyes grew large as the restraints holding Bramwell began to break loose one by one. Bramwell screamed in pain as he pushed his muscles to the breaking point, and then pushed them even further.

Bramwell shouted, “I’m going even if I have to tear my own arms off!”

Grayson snapped, “Will you calm down for just one moment? Fine, I’ll let you go. But, you need to know where you’re going before you rush off and get yourself killed. I worked too hard to have you eaten by a wolf or something.”

Bramwell said, “Alright. But I’m going back to Duskwood no matter what you say.”

Grayson muttered, “You’ve yet to see what you look like. Even if your family is alive, they’ll never accept you.”

Bramwell asked, “What do you mean?”

Grayson said, “You’re one of us now. Allow me to show you.”

Grayson took a silver mirror from his desk and held it up to Bramwell. At first Bramwell wasn’t sure who the person looking back from the mirror even was. His skin was alabaster white. His eyes were mostly gone, but the sockets glowed like Grayson’s with a strange yellow light like the eye shine of an animal. His hair was still brown, but it was frayed. Still, his features were mostly the same.

Bramwell said, “You don’t know my family. They’ll accept me no matter what I look like.”

Grayson muttered, “I don’t know your family, but I know the living, and I know much better than to trust them. It seems you’ll learn that the hard way.”

Grayson removed Bramwell’s restraints, cursing to himself. Bramwell didn’t struggle and simply sat up when the restraints were gone.

Grayson leaned against his lab table and said, “I wanted to do The Lady a service by creating someone exceptional. I could tell that you have an iron will. That’s why I took you under my wing without simply dropping you off at the Sepulcher. ”

Bramwell said, “I’ll never be in your service.”

Grayson said, “You need to accept that you’re a new being now, like a newborn baby. Within days you’ll be able to pick up on all of the Horde languages, and forget the Common you’re speaking now.”

Bramwell said, “I find that hard to believe.”

Grayson said, “Believe what you want, but you’ll soon find everything I’ve said is true. It’s been three days since I saved you, and I was only able to get here that quickly because I knew a mage that owed me a favor. Ravenhill is already lost. You’ll be lucky to get there in a week. Do you still want to go?”

Bramwell said, “Yes. I have to know what happened to my family.”

Grayson sighed and said, “I don’t want my hard work to be in vain, otherwise I’d let you go without any help at all. There’s a town called Brill close by. I have a horse there…”

Grayson scrawled a note onto a piece of parchment and handed it to Bramwell then continued, “Take this to the stable hand and the he’ll let you borrow my horse for the journey. The safest way will be by zeppelin. You’ll see the zeppelin post nearby.”

Bramwell asked, “Wait a minute, a zeppelin? We’re across the sea?”

Grayson ignored him and said, “Stay on the road on the way to the post. Get on the zeppelin to Stranglethorn Vale and ride my horse all the way to Duskwood. I can’t stress enough how important it is to stay on the road.”

Bramwell said, “Okay. Go to Brill, get the horse, take the Zeppelin to Stranglethorn and follow the road up to Duskwood.”

Grayson said, “My horse is fast. You may be able to shave a day or two off your journey if you don’t stop for any reason. I just want you to promise me one thing in return.”

Bramwell asked, “What?”

Grayson said, “When you realize I’m right, I want you to come back to me so I can train you. And for The Lady’s sake, don’t trust the humans. They’d sooner kill you than see you back with your family.”

Bramwell said, “You’re wrong. But, if my family is dead, I promise I’ll come back.”

Grayson said, “Then I’ll see you sooner than you think. Follow the signposts out of the city. Good luck.”

Bramwell rushed out of the room, only to be overwhelmed by the city around him. A slimy, green moat was so close in front of him that he almost fell into it. The area that he had just come from looked as though it was somehow alive, sporting a roof like the stomach of a terrible monster. Still, what shocked him most was seeing all of the Forsaken around him.

It seemed to him they were speaking gibberish at first, but he found the more he heard them, the more words he was able to pick out, as though the language was a bastardized version of Common. The undead seemed strangely human; selling wares, running errands, and going about their business. There were even other Horde races scattered among them, dancing, joking and talking.

Bramwell thought, “Maybe we were wrong about them. They don’t seem like animals now. No, I’m starting to think like one of them. It’s this disease rotting my brain. They’re just evil beasts that need to be put down.”

Bramwell wandered around, following the signposts until he approached the gate out of the city. The strange sights around him made him feel dizzy. For a moment, he thought he might be still feverish, that everything he was seeing was just a dream and in reality he was still trundling along the road in his cart. Still, he knew in his heart that everything was real.

Bramwell thought, “What Stormwind wouldn’t give to know about this place. Why, I know where I am, I’m in the ruins of Lordaeron. This is the throne room where Prince Arthas slew his Father. I’ll be a great asset to Stormwind. I can tell the King about the defenses here. They could even plan an assault through the cavern where those giant bats are ferrying people inside. I’ll pay Stormwind a visit after I find my family…”

Bramwell followed the road to Brill in thoughtful silence. When he reached Brill, once again he was struck by the fact the undead settlement looked just like a human township. There was an inn, shops, and even a city hall. The stableman gave Bramwell a suspicious glance as he handed him the paper. Then, he shrugged and pointed to a large undead horse with long spiral horns attached to its skull like decorations on steel barding. It seemed to paw at the dirt with eagerness as Bramwell hoisted himself into the saddle.

The Zeppelin Station loomed in the distance like a giant obelisk grave marker. Bramwell closed the distance easily on the swift creature and sighed with relief as he saw he was just in time to get on the zeppelin to Stranglethorn Vale.

A female goblin said something to him in the language of the undead. He didn’t catch it, but simply nodded his head as though he did.

She cleared her throat and said in Common, “Hon, you’ll have to stable your horse below deck for the trip.”

Bramwell said, “Okay. Sorry.”

She chuckled, “You ain’t from around here, are you?”

Bramwell said, “You could say that.”

She said, “Name’s Sasha Zimbolt. Yours?”

Bramwell muttered, “Bramwell.”

She said, “I’ve never met an undead that didn’t know Undercommon, but who am I to judge? Anyone’s money is always welcome.”

Bramwell felt around in his pockets, realizing he still had his money pouch.
He quickly pulled out a handful of copper and said, “Could you please tell me any news you know about Duskwood?”

Sasha’s eyes glittered with greed, and he noted that she had an almost attractive smile if it weren’t for her shark-like teeth.

As soon as the money dropped into her hand she said, “It’s a terrible place now. There are nothing but Scourge, Worgen, and criminals around Ravenhill. There’s still Grand Hamlet, but they call it Darkshire now.”

Bramwell said, “Suppose someone like me had to sneak in? What advice would you give him?”

She grinned again and said, “Well, first, I would tell him to put on a dark hooded robe so that no one would see his face. Then, I would say he should wear some cologne to mask his scent. And last, if he was riding a horse like yours, I’d say he should leave the horse behind when he gets there.”

Bramwell asked, “Where would he find those things?”

Sasha asked, “How much money do you have in that pouch?”

Bramwell said, “Only a few silver.”

Sasha said, “Look no further, then. I have perfume and cologne, and I have enough material to make a cloak on the way.”

Bramwell paid her the money and said, “Thank you. I think I’ll need all the help I can get.”

Bramwell mostly watched the ocean beneath him as he counted the days until they would arrive at Stranglethorn. Sasha talked to him while she worked. She seemed just as happy to hear his story as he was to tell it. She used an extra linen canvas for ship repairs to make him a cloak. By the time she finished dying the material black, he was surprised to see the ratty old canvas transformed into a well-tailored cloak and hood.

When the Stranglethorn coastline was in sight, Sasha said, “I hope you get to find your family. But, I have to agree with Grayson. Even if you find them, the other humans will never accept you.”

Bramwell said, “Humans are different than you think.”

She said, “I hope for your sake you’re right. Remember what I said about the tigers. If one follows you, eventually it’ll tire of chasing you. But, the jungle trolls are worse. A few arrows to your back won’t kill you, but trying to fight one of them will.”

Bramwell was sad for a moment as he waved goodbye, but the moment quickly passed as he entered the jungle. He could tell that Grayson had indeed saved his life by lending him his horse. Tigers chased him down narrow paths, clearly carved into the jungle with nothing but a machete. The jungle trolls chased him until his back felt like a pin cushion, but he didn’t even look back. After two full days of riding, he finally reached his destination, the edge of Duskwood Forest.

Sasha hadn’t exaggerated at all in her description. If anything she was being kind. Bramwell urged the horse in the direction of his house, ignoring the shambling hordes around him. Still, it seemed there wasn’t much left of his house to investigate. The roof had caved in, as though the very boards had decayed with the withered trees around it.

He opened what remained of the door, afraid at what he would find. The furniture was overturned, but there was no blood, so he quickly went outside. There were deep grooves carved into the muck near the house, meaning at least someone in his family probably escaped on horseback.

Bramwell froze as he heard a familiar voice behind him say, “Halt! Who are you stranger? What are you doing here?”

Bramwell didn’t turn but asked, “Sven, is that you?”

Sven stammered, “Bramwell? I thought you were dead.”

Bramwell turned slowly, “I am.”

Sven immediately reached for his sword, but Bramwell put his hands up and said, “I didn’t come here to fight. I just want to know what happened to my family.”

Sven asked, “Why should I trust you, Monster?”

Bramwell said, “Because it really is me. I’ll let you kill me if you have to, but tell me what I need to know first.”

Sven sighed and said, “Fine. After you disappeared, all Hell broke loose. Wolf monsters popped up everywhere, dead bodies started rising from their graves, and the Defias took advantage of the situation.”

Bramwell asked, “What about my family?”

Sven said, “They survived, but your wife took it really hard. Your children have become wards of Stormwind City. Even though you’re wife is alive, she can barely take care of herself.”

Bramwell asked, “Are you certain?”

Sven said, “Yes. Your wife managed to get the children on your horse and they rode all the way to Grand Hamlet. After what happened, well, it’s understandable how she reacted.”

Bramwell asked, “Where is she now?”

Sven said, “Stormwind as well. She’s become a priestess of the Light. She’s taken a vow of silence, but she hasn’t spoken a word since you disappeared anyway.”
Bramwell asked, “What happened to your family, Sven?”

Sven began to shake, “They were all murdered. I don’t know exactly what happened, but when I came back…”

Sven sobbed.

Bramwell said, “I’m sorry.”

Sven said, “Stormwind abandoned us. They didn’t send any help. So, we created the Darkshire Watch, and we take care of ourselves now.”

Bramwell said, “Thank you for telling me. Don’t worry. Stormwind will change their tune when they hear what I have to say.”

Sven said, “You’re not going to Stormwind.”

Bramwell said, “I have to…”

Bramwell ducked just in time as Sven’s sword whistled through the air, right where his head had been a moment before.

Sven snapped, “You aren’t Bramwell. You might look like him, but you’re just like the rest of these monsters. I pity you, but not enough to put those poor kids through seeing a mockery of their Father!”

For a moment, Bramwell wanted to fight Sven, to tear at him with his bare hands until he was nothing but a tattered lump of flesh and bone. Instead, he ran to the undead horse and galloped as fast as he could away from the graveyard, trying to let the rage that was clouding his judgment fade away as he went. As he reached the border between Duskwood and Westfall, he realized Sven was no longer following him.

Bramwell thought, “Grayson was right. Even if my family accepts me, the other humans will never allow me to stay with them. But, I can’t leave here without saying goodbye to them either. I’ll write a letter to them, and if I can get Sven to send it, I’ll let him kill me afterwards.”

Bramwell carefully kept to the shadows, keeping his glowing eyes pointed at the ground. Eventually, he saw a light ahead, and realized it was a group of the Darkshire Watch. He was about to sneak around them, when he heard his name, and decided to listen, instead. Sven was talking to his best friend, Lars.

Lars asked, “But what did you tell him?”

Sven said, “What could I tell him? I lied and told him his family was in Stormwind. You didn’t see him, Lars.”

Lars said, “But his wife is only staying in town because she thinks he’s still alive…”

Sven said, “Don’t worry. He doesn’t know. I told him she was mentally incapable for caring for the children and joined a convent.”

Lars said, “Good thinking. Can you imagine if he showed himself to her?”

Sven said, “Better for her to die not knowing than to live with the shame of it.”

Bramwell shook with rage. As he did, he noticed a strange ball of black and green light growing in his fingertips. He had a feeling that he could hurl the ball at one of the people in the group and their conversation would stop along with their heart. Still, he somehow managed to calm down, and the light faded away.

Bramwell thought, “My Father was right. It seems Darkness is serving me now...”

Bramwell moved with single-minded determination towards Darkshire, staying in the woods to make sure he wouldn’t be seen. When he saw the lights ahead of him, he gave the city a wide berth until he reached the back of the inn and dismounted from his horse.

Bramwell thought, “I’ll sneak into the cellar. If I can sneak past the cooks, I should be able to blend in with the other customers.”

Bramwell opened the cellar door, shivering at the quiet and darkness around him. Even though he could easily see through the darkness, it was as though the every footstep he made echoed around him. Still, he snuck halfway up the stairs. He could see the cook busying himself near the fire. As soon as his back was turned, Bramwell skirted up the rest of the stairs and rushed into the tavern area.
The tavern was strangely silent. For a moment, Bramwell entertained the idea that Sven had somehow known he was listening in on their conversation and had set him up. Then he noticed the demeanor of the guests around him. Everyone at the tavern was staring into the bottom of a bottle. All of them had lost more than they wished to talk about. The only conversation came from Innkeeper Trelayne, who was gossiping to someone who had walked into the front door. Bramwell simply stepped towards the staircase to the rooms, glancing at the floor and shuffling his feet as though he was tired. No one stopped him.

Bramwell walked down the hall and paused when he saw her through the crack in the door at the end of the hallway. His wife was sitting at a table in the study, resting her head against her arms, asleep. As he gently pushed the door open further, he could see the boys asleep in the bed in the adjacent room. There were dark bags under Grace’s eyes from crying, and for a moment Bramwell almost walked out of the room, thinking Sven was right. Before he could, she opened her eyes.

Grace stammered, “A ghost…”

Bramwell said, “I’m not a ghost, Grace. It’s me.”

Grace asked, “Bramwell?”

Bramwell said, “I had to see you. I knew I couldn’t rest until I did. I shouldn’t have come.”

Grace rushed towards him and embraced him. Her warm flesh made him gasp in surprise, just as his cold flesh made her gasp as well.

Grace said, “You’re alive. The children will be so happy…”

Bramwell said, “I can’t let them see me like this. Grace, I just came to say goodbye.”

Grace said, “Like I would let you go.”

Bramwell said, “Look at me, Grace.”

Grace looked up at him, and for a moment she flinched away in fear. It was as though she was really seeing him for the first time.

Grace’s eyes welled up with tears, “I see. But, I don’t care. I love you.”

Bramwell said, “I love you too, but you know we can’t be together. I want you to tell the children that I love them, and I want you to tell them that I came to you as a ghost to bring this back.”

Bramwell lifted the medallion from his neck and put it around hers.

Grace looked at the floor and muttered, “Okay.”

Bramwell took his money bag from his pocket and said, “There isn’t much left, but use what’s left to buy Bertram’s peppermints. I promised…”

Grace said, “You have to say goodbye to them, Bram.”

Bramwell said, “I want to, but what if they wake up?”

Grace said, “They won’t. They’re exhausted.”

Bramwell went into the room and walked slowly around the bed. He kissed Garret on the forehead and Bertram on the cheek. Bertram stirred in his sleep and pulled the covers closer to his face.

Bramwell whispered, “I’m sorry. I know my lips are cold. I love you, Boys. Take good care of your Mother for me.”

Grace whispered, “They won’t have to. I’ll make sure all of us are safe. Now that I know what happened to you, I can take them away from here.”

Bramwell said, “I love you, Grace. I’m so sorry.”

He kissed her gently on the lips, the way a person might kiss a corpse goodbye, and then walked slowly out of the room, but not before he felt Grace put the chain back around his neck, and dangling from it was her wedding ring.

Grace said, “I love you too. Please, wear that so you can remember me.”

Bramwell said, “I won’t ever take it off.”

Bramwell continued down the staircase, with feelings of peace and numbness spreading over him. He didn’t even look at the men at the tavern or bother to stay away from the cook. He was sure that if they did notice him, they didn’t want to acknowledge what they saw. He rode away in a trance, wandering for days until he reached the zeppelin post and boarded the zeppelin back towards Undercity.

Sasha asked, “Did you find them? Were they alive?”

Bramwell muttered, “Yes, but you were right. The others didn’t let me stay.”

Sasha asked, “But, you got to say goodbye?”

Bramwell said, “Yes. It helps to know they would’ve accepted me.”

He clasped the ring around his neck, wishing he could weep.

Bramwell said, “If I wasn’t such a coward I would’ve let Sven kill me before I left.”

Sasha said, “Don’t think of this as the end, Bramwell, it’s a new beginning.”

Bramwell concentrated on his hand for a moment and noticed the strange ball of black and green light was beginning to form again.

Bramwell muttered, “You know, maybe you’re right.”

As Bramwell entered the Alchemy lab, Grayson dropped the potion he was holding in surprise.

Grayson stammered, “You came back. Did you accomplish what you wanted?”

Bramwell said, “Yes. You were right. My family was dead, and I’ve coped with my death. I’m here to stay.”

Grayson grinned and said, “Excellent. Let’s get started.”

The Muse Concert, Rifftrax, and Halloween

2010-11-11T07:32:00.000-08:00

Sorry it's taken me so long to write this. I've been so busy lately! First of all, let me tell you about the Muse concert.

Muse is definitely my favorite band. For those who don't know about Muse, they're a British band and they have a very interesting sound. I really don't know how to describe their sound or the genre of their music. If you want a good example, look up either "Knights of Cydonia" or "Hysteria" (those are two of their hits in the US.) Their music inspires me, their music changes with every new cd, and they are terrific performers. And, recently, I got the opportunity to see them in concert in North Carolina. Let me tell you, it was well worth the drive!

I think that was the best concert that I've ever seen. They played all of their popular songs in the US, along with most of the songs from "The Revolution" album. What also impressed me was they included a very advanced stage show with lasers, rotating platforms that lit up with a collage of images depending on the song, and a few fireworks in the finale. The screens on the rotating platforms also showed images of the band as they were playing, which was helpful since there wasn't a "jumbotron." Their music sounded just as good in concert as on the CD, and they all had a tremendous stage presence. I bought a Muse poster that I'm going to frame, as well as a guitar pick necklace with the band's name inscribed in it. I wish I had time to get autographs, but by the time the concert was over, my husband and I were too exhausted to stay, and the entire theater seemed to be headed to where the band would be ahead of us. ::sigh:: I suppose that I can always write a comment on their website. They probably hear "your music inspires me..." all the time from way hotter fan girls than I am, but I still wanted to tell them how much I appreciate their music. Oh well, maybe next time.

A few days later, I went to see "Rifftrax Live" and I think it was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. I laughed until I almost cried. For those who don't know, Rifftrax Live is basically a taped live broadcast of the comedians who were responsible for Mystery Science Theater 3000. I've always loved that show. You watch a movie in the theater and they play the taped recording along with it. I hear the one for Twilight was particularly good.

The first two skits were based off of a very old commercial about saving money on groceries with "the grocery witch" who was basically a take off of "Bewitched." The second looked like a very very old educational video about a talking paper bag telling a child how paper is made. (I know, it sounds trippy and it was trippy, but I don't have enough imagination to make up something quite that messed up.) They tore those scenes apart. Then, it went into the main feature, the original "House on Haunted Hill." It was just as funny as the skits. I like House on Haunted Hill, but I can definitely see how you could poke some fun at it. Long story short, it was a good movie, a good evening, and if you haven't seen Rifftrax Live, look it up and buy tickets for a theater near you.

And, of course, I have to tell you about the Halloween party. I think everything went very well. It really couldn't have gone any better. For the most part, it wasn't very stressful getting ready for the party for a change. I had plenty of help. We finished the cooking early, finished the decorating shortly afterward, and the only thing that was last minute at all was setting up the table and making the punch. The food was good, though as usual we had tons of food leftover. The crowd was pretty large and people brought even more food when they came. The two movies I remember watching were Zombieland and Silent Hill, though I didn't really watch Silent Hill since that movie is a bit intense for my tastes. I played a lot of Rock Band 3. Between refreshments, movies, Rock Band 3, and just talking and hanging out, I think everyone had something to do and had a good night.

The next evening we went to yet another party that was also lots of fun. We were going to go to two parties, but between cleaning up the house and unwinding from the previous night, we were just too tired to get to the one that started earlier. (Not to mention we were slightly late to the other from rushing around to get our costumes on.) The second party was very fun as well. It was alot like ours. There was a lot of Rock Band 3, lots of sweets, and a lot of talking and relaxing. I have to admit it was very nice going to a party after throwing one.

For once, I was actually ready for Halloween to be over. ::gasp:: I don't usually have that feeling, but I just did so much that the next week I was ready to get the decorations down, and I worked hard enough to do it. Parties are fun, but they take alot out of you. I also spread out the fun activities enough that the entire month of October felt like Halloween. It was pretty nice.

I can hardly believe we're already halfway through with November. Life certainly doesn't slow down. The months have been flying by lately. Still, at least I finally got to do this blog entry. I think next time I'll post another writing sample. As expected, I didn't place in the World of Warcraft writing contest, so I feel no guilt in showing a section of it as a simple writing sample. It's just a fan fic, and I don't think it's bad writing.

In other writing news, I'm throwing around the idea of submitting my first novel as a free sample for e-book readers on either the Barnes and Noble site or on Amazon. I'm thinking of it as free advertising. If I get enough downloads and people actually start enjoying my work I might be able to sell the other two novels of the series and get a larger fan base. I still think those novels aren't bad, but I recognize that my writing style is getting better, and I have a lot more in the works that just that first trilogy. (Plus, I also have submitted it to all of the agents that seemed interested in that sort of genre and haven't had any luck.) I want someone to be reading my work, and this might be a way that I can make that happen. Still, I'm going to look into it a little bit first to make sure the idea is legitimate. Wish me luck.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-24T14:01:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone,

I'm just writing this blog early since I know this week is going to be crazy busy, and I know I need to keep up with this better than I have been. So, here we go with more adventures in the world of Nancy.

Wow, this is going to be such an awesome week! I get to go to the Muse concert on Tuesday, play Rock Band three on Wednesday, carve pumpkins on Thursday, see RiffTrax live for "House on Haunted Hill," Thursday night, have my Halloween Party Friday, go to (possibly) two Halloween Parties on Saturday, and maybe go by the church for a Halloween celebration Sunday. (A run on sentence for a run on week...) The point is, though, I probably won't have a spare second. Even now, I'm taking a break from working around the house to write this. I'm hoping to have as many of my chores done as possible now so that I just have to touch up a few later in the week when I'm working out the final preparations for the party.

I'll be sure to blog later about the Muse concert. Even if I don't get a chance to blog on that this week, I will be sure to next week. I'm very excited about it. It's been a long time since I've gotten to see a good concert and Muse is one of my favorite bands. It makes me wish I had enough money to buy a decent souvenir. I'll try to buy a small one anyway. Hopefully I'll still get to go to bible study Wednesday night, but I'll have to see how tired me and my husband are when we get back. Not only will we be up late on Tuesday for the concert, but we'll be driving back from North Carolina on Wednesday morning. We'll see. At some point that day, probably shortly after we get back, we'll also be rocking out to Rock Band three. That will take some energy as well.

Even though it isn't looking like I'll be able to write much this week, I'm not complaining. I'll be busy with lots of fun, and sometimes a week of fun is enough to spark a little bit of inspiration, especially when you're writing a horror novel and it's around Halloween. We'll see about that as well.

Well, since I probably won't get to write again before then, everyone have a happy and safe Halloween!

This is Halloween...

2010-10-19T08:21:00.000-07:00

Once again, sorry that I haven't been keeping up with the blog like I should. I've been crazy busy lately. I'm always crazy busy in October because there's a lot to do around Halloween.

This weekend was the big Halloween party that my friend Gini throws every year. Once again, it was a lot of fun, and her awesome decorations once again put me to shame. She had candles suspended from fishing line in her living room as though they were floating, ravens suspended the same way in the bathroom like something out of a Hitchcock film, not to mention the large cloth hanging from the ceiling in the living room like the nest of a giant spider, including said giant spider. Gini's decorations always impress me. And, as always, the refreshments were awesome, the music was good, and there were movies playing outside projected on a big screen and inside on the big TV. She puts a lot of thought into her parties. It's nice to go visit her and I feel like I've become decent friends with some of her guests as well, even if thus far I only see them around Halloween. It's always fun to meet new people and hang out with friends that you don't get to see very often.

There are a lot of parties for me to attend this year. It sounds like, aside from Gini's party, there are two more parties being thrown by friends of mine that I don't get to see very often. I'm hoping that I'll get to go to both parties, but since they're being thrown on the same night, I'm not sure yet. I'm going to try, though. Aside from both of those, I'm throwing my party on October 29th, so I have a lot of work to do around the house to get ready. I also just need to sit down and plan for it. I have the rough theme of zombies and undead, even though I'm not dressing as a zombie this year. The theme at my party really doesn't dictate costume, mostly just the movies shown, the pumpkin designs, and sometimes the food. As long as my friends come in costume, I'm not very particular about what they come as, assuming it's tasteful. This year, I'm dressing as Carmen Sandiego, and my husband is dressing as Waldo from "Where's Waldo." I think the costumes turned out pretty good.

Other than Halloween parties, I've also just finished my "Everburn" synopsis, so at some point today I'm going to send it in to the publishers that my friend Josh suggested. Wish me luck on that. I really want this one to work out. Honestly, I think I like this book much more than my first trilogy, and there's plenty of potential for a trilogy with this novel as well. I just need someone to give me a chance. My writer's block is still here, but it's slowly disappointing. I'm hoping to do some sort of writing work this week to make up for all of the time I've lost. Some people can get over writer's block by writing, but I don't think I'm one of those people. I usually just end up producing something that seems like regurgitated trite, which makes me feel bad about myself. Like I said, though, I'm thankfully getting over it now.

Well, I'd best be off to do some decorating and to send off that proposal for "Everburn." Wish me luck. Maybe at some point today I'll also get to finish up the sixth book of the Dresden Files. Thanks for reading.

What's Up?

2010-10-05T10:16:00.000-07:00

Well, sorry I didn't get around to blogging last week. I've been working very hard trying to finish up my summary of "Everburn" so I can finally start submitting it to publishers and agencies. I should have it done by the end of this week, or the beginning of the next. I have higher hopes for this book, and I'm really not sure why I didn't start working on the submission process sooner. I guess I've had other things on my mind. The writer's block also was making me feel down on myself again, which never helps.

I still have writer's block, by the way, but it's starting to go away. I was able to pick up my horror novel last week and managed to add another chapter. I know that doesn't sound like much, but for someone who hasn't written a story in at least a month (I think it's been more like months), it was heaven. I swear, it's like my creativity took a swan dive off of a cliff and now is looking for footholds to crawl it's twisted zombie ass back up, but can't quite find any. I really hope the writer's block ends soon.

Still, I guess this is a good month for it. It's October, which means I've got several things coming up to look forward to that would normally eat into my writing time (if I wasn't having trouble writing). For one thing, my friend Gini's annual Halloween party is coming up. It's always fun and I'm really psyched up about it. Then the Muse concert, then my annual Halloween party, and possibly one other. I've got lots of decorating to do this week. I also really need to think about the details of my party, like what theme I'm going to use, what I'm going to carve on the pumpkins, what I'm going to serve in terms of food, and possibly about making another Halloween song mix as well.

There's always a lot to do in October. I'm a little sad that I won't be able to attend Halloween Horror Nights this year, or Walt Disney World, but it's for the best. We're saving money for more important things, and sometimes you have to be responsible. I'll get back there one day. Probably not next year, but sometime soon enough I'm sure.

In the meantime, I'm going to finish the Everburn summary and submit it, work on my new book, keep my house clean, decorate for Halloween, finish reading the Dresden Files (I'm on book 6) and get back into my exercise routine (I've gotten a good start on that the last few weeks). Wish me luck. Keep reading and writing!

Ghost Hunting in Charleston

2010-09-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

Well, I finally got to go ghost hunting in Charleston this weekend. It was a lot of fun. Part of the fun (in fact most of it) was just getting to go with my friends to Charleston again after all this time. It is a beautiful city. There are so many restaurants, shops, and interesting historical sights, that it would be impossible to see everything in just one day. It keeps you wanting to come back for more. Still, we did discover two new places that we will definitely need to revisit next time.

First of all, to get this out of the way, as usual we didn't find any ghosts. That's why there's no picture in this particular post. We didn't even do very much ghost hunting. At the end of the day we went on a "ghost tour" that was featuring some of Charleston's most famous haunted graveyards. Our tour guide let us in and explained what some of the symbols on the graves meant and told us a few famous Charleston ghost stories. She was an ex-school teacher, and it showed in the way she emphasized certain words, etc. It gave me a warm fuzzy, making me remember when story tellers would come to tell folktales at my elementary school. Anyway, we heard the story of the Fisher couple, some murderers who preyed on travelers new to Charleston in the early 1800's, the sad story of a girl sealed into a tomb prematurely, and a few other stories of premature burial. We also saw a picture taken in one of the cemeteries we couldn't tour of an apparition kneeling at her own tomb. The last stop was Philadelphia Ally, and I have to admit, the place gives you a very creepy feeling. Here we were told the story of "The Whistling Doctor."

We thought we caught something in a picture taken in Philadelphia Ally (the "Dueling Ally"). We zoomed in on a spot in the picture that looked like half of a face, a green skeleton grinning in the top corner. We got all excited, but then as we looked at the other pictures, we realized it was just a clump of green leaves that just happened to be clustered together in such a way that it looked like a face in that particular picture. Since the green spot was in the same place in all of the pictures and didn't look like anything in any of the others, it had to be leaves. Bummer.

Still, it was a very fun trip. We spent the first part of the day walking towards the Battery. We didn't actually go there, but we walked along a nice shaded trail in a park that overlooked the Harbor. We saw what appeared to be a boating class practicing in the harbor and I dubbed the term "Sailboat Jousting" because it seemed that the boats were actually trying to hit each other. We walked around for a while, reading monuments, looking at houses (there were so many for sale, it made me really wish I was rich enough to buy one), and taking in the sights. Then, we headed back towards the main drag and decided to eat in a restaurant/pub/museum (I kid you not, it was also a museum) called "The Buccaneer." We have to go there again.

The Buccaneer is dedicated to the early days of piracy. The floor was stone/cement, the tables look like something in a boat, and there are relics and pirate themed pictures hanging everywhere. The only thing that wasn't pirate themed was the music (which sadly was nineties pop at the time), but still, it was awesome. The food was good, the drinks were good, and the atmosphere made me wish it was "Talk Like a Pirate Day." We just missed it too, because "Talk Like a Pirate Day" would be Sunday, the next day. I won't lie, we did a little talking like a pirate anyway.

After that was over, we dropped by the parking lot to get my purse, and there was a very sudden and very bad rainstorm. So, we hung around in the parking lot and talked. It was kind of a nice break from walking around and gave us a chance to unwind a little and kill a little time before the ghost tour. Plus, thankfully the rain dropped the temperature significantly so we finally got to cool off.

When it stopped raining we made an appearance at the tour office so that they would know were were coming and then went to an old-timey looking general store nearby to wait. I don't remember the name, but the theme there was moonpies. There were moonpies everywhere, but that wasn't the best part. In the center of the store was an ice cream/malt shop sort of area and it was here that I discovered "Red Velvet Cake Ice Cream." Best discovery ever. That had to have been some of the best ice cream I've ever had, so next time we go we have to drop by there again.

After that was the tour, which I already mentioned. It was fun too. I didn't expect to see any ghosts on the tour, but by the time it was over we were all too exhausted to do anymore ghost hunting. We decided to go home and review the pictures. While we were taking a few of our other friends home, one of our friends told us some real ghost stories that happened in his family, and let me tell you, they were far more frightening than the ones that the tour guide told us. It made me kind of happy we were going home. I'm reasonably certain that my current house isn't haunted. Getting home safe and sound is part of the fun of ghost hunting. It's an adventure that you return home from feeling more appreciative of your non-haunted house.

Anyway, we'll have to go back to Charleston again sometime soon. I think next time we'll do a bit more ghost hunting, but we'll have to at least revisit "The Buccaneer" and that General Store. Next time, I would also like to browse some of the antique stores and pay more attention to main street. But, we'll save that for later. In the meantime, possibly in a few months, we're thinking of inspecting a different sort of ghost tour. In Savannah, they have a "Haunted Pubs" tour. Sounds like a plan for the near future.

Trip to Charleston Saturday (and a little something dark)

2010-09-17T10:11:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone,

Just writing to say how excited I am that I finally was able to get a group of friends together to go to Charleston with me this Saturday for ghost hunting. I'm not thinking that we'll find anything at all, but either way, it will be great to go to Charleston again. It's a city with great architecture, shops, restaurants, and historical significance. So, whether we meet a specter or not, I'm glad to be going again. I think the last time I went was over ten years ago, while I was still in high school. (Wow, that makes me feel old...you kids get off my lawn!)

Anyway, I'm going to keep you posted on the results. If we actually catch some photographic evidence I'll post it. (Don't get your hopes up.) Still, Charleston is the most likely place to find something. It is probably one of the most haunted cities in the world. I know for a fact it's one of the most haunted in the US. Anyway, it should be fun.

In the meantime, here's a sample from the book I'm currently working on. Currently I'm calling it "Emersion" but the name might change later. It's a horror novel about an elementary school that is a bastion of supernatural energy and the teachers that are trying to protect the students attending it. The main character, Mr. Stevens, is trying to make up for what happened to his little sister when he was a child attending the school. She was kidnapped in the parking lot by "the man with the sack." Now, it seems that the "man with the sack" has returned and is kidnapping children at random. Other strange things are starting to happen around the school as well. It's as though the fears of the children are coming alive and are coming for them, and only Mr. Stevens believes them.

To those reading this post, a fair warning. This is a horror novel, and it probably is the most horrific thing I've written, simply because of the fact there is violence against children. This does not mean I advocate violence against children, nor do I condone it. Part of what makes life horrific is that sometimes bad things happen to innocent children. The book, in fact, will have some sections that are a subtle commentary about how difficult it is to help abused children because of legal issues, protocol, etc. So, the introduction to this novel (which is all that I've written in it so far) is a child being abducted by the man with the sack, and it is very very dark. Remember, all the scenarios I write are fictional. This is a fictional child and a fictional villain, no real children were harmed in the making of this introduction. (It makes me sad I have to write a disclaimer for this, but I know that some people have difficulties separating reality from fiction.)

Nick pulled the covers over his head, but that didn’t stop the sound on the windowpane. The sound was grating, making a tingle run along the back of his neck all the way down to his tailbone. It reminded him of a dentist scraping plague off of his teeth, the sound of sharp metal on bone. Nick shivered. Every time he had enough courage to open the blinds, the noise abruptly stopped and there was nothing there. Still, he knew He was out there somewhere, watching. Maybe He hid in the bushes when Nick looked through the blinds. He was fast, clever, and terrifying.

One time Nick saw His hand. It was in a glove, but something sharp was poking through each of the fingertips. They looked like the sharp points on the bottom of a tack, just like the ones on Nick’s bulletin board. Still, then he thought he saw His eyes and that was enough to convince him not to open the blinds for the rest of the night. His eyes were shining dimes in the moonlight, glowing red like reflected eyes in a photograph.

Nick muttered, “The Man with the Sack.”

As though to punctuate the words, the shrill, ear piercing, sound grew louder running from the top of the window all the way to the bottom.

Nick thought about going into his parent’s room. The man wouldn’t follow him there. But, his Father would be there as well, and his Father had been drinking again. The last time he told his Father about the man at the window, he told him it was a bad dream and he was too old to sleep in his parent’s room over a nightmare. Then, his Father went outside to prove it. Nick begged his him not to. He waited by the back door, expecting to hear a scream any moment, when the Man with the Sack jumped out of the bushes and killed his Father--but it didn’t happen. His Father came back, slapped him hard enough to leave bruises on his face, and sent him to bed crying. His Mother, as usual, muttered that he should listen to his Father and just looked away.

Still, he knew that soon the man would begin to speak. When that happened, he would rather take his chances with his Father. If he could fall asleep, the Man with the Sack would move on to another house. So, Nick didn’t move at all, pretending to be asleep.

A gruff muffled voice said, “Nicky, Nicky, you’ve been a bad boy. Played with your dicky with your Dad’s magazine…”

Nick snapped, “I didn’t. Leave me alone!”

The voice continued, “You did, you did! Do you know where bad little boys go, Nick? Do you know, Nick? Do you know?”

Nick began to cry.

The voice said, “They go in the sack. And, you’ve been very bad. Do you know what will happen to you?”

Nick said in a whisper, “I don’t want to hear anymore…”

The voice said, “You’ll be eaten up. Yum, yum, I’m so hungry.”

Nick said, “You can’t hurt me. Dad says you’re a nightmare. You can’t be real.”

The voice said, “I’m real.”

The silhouette of Nick’s Father appeared in his doorway, “Nick, who the Hell are you talking to?”

His Father’s eyes were red around the edges. The veins in his eyes were little red vines reaching towards his pupil as though to hold it in. Nick could smell the whiskey on his breath, like fumes wafting from dangerous chemicals.

Nick muttered, “No one. I’m sorry. I was praying…”

His Father snapped, “Keep it down. You’re keeping me awake and I have to go to work in the morning. Does that mean anything to you, Nicky? I keep you fed.”

Nick stammered, “I know. I’m sorry. I really am.”

His Father snorted. The sound made Nick think of a dragon, ready to spit its acidic venom on someone—ready to spit venom on him. Nick flinched, waiting for his Father to cross the room with the back of his hand raised, but instead his Father mumbled something under his breath and stumbled back towards his room.

As soon as Nick heard the door slam, the Man with the Sack started talking to him again, “And now, you’ve made your Father lose sleep. You’ve been a naughty boy and tomorrow I’m going to make you pay for it.”

Silent tears rolled down Nick’s cheeks. Tomorrow was his birthday, October the twenty first. He would be nine years old. His Mother and Father were planning to take him to an air show and then have a party for him at the house. He loved planes. There were even planes on his pajamas. Earlier in the evening he snuck into the kitchen after his Mother brought home the cookie cake. It was covered with blue icing and puffy white icing clouds with a toy plane in the center. Would he even get to taste it?

Nick thought, “I’ll keep close to my parents. He won’t be able to snag me if I stay close. They won’t let anything bad happen to me. He’s a liar and a bully. I won’t let him scare me.”

Nick smiled. Yes, he could stay away from the Man with the Sack. He always talked big at night, but somehow things were always better in the daytime. Things were starting to look up. He even noticed, while he was thinking about his party that the gloved hand was no longer scratching on his window. The Man with the Sack was silent, and just the silence made him feel good enough to close his eyes…

The crash of glass woke Nick up at midnight.

The gruff voice said, “It’s tomorrow, Nicky, my Boy.”

Nick tried to scream, but a gloved hand quickly covered his mouth. He could feel the tacks digging into his cheek, forcing his face upward so that he had to look up and see the Man with the Sack grinning down at him with his crooked teeth and his red dime eyes. Half of the man’s face was covered by a strange mask that reminded Nick of Marti Gras, but that only seemed to emphasize the redness of the eyes beneath it. The grin seemed much too wide, as though someone had taken a knife to his cheeks, and his teeth were sharpened to points on the end of each of them.

Nick could’ve laughed at the absurd thought that popped into his mind, the lyrics of a song he learned at school, “Don’t smile at a crocodile…”

Nick didn’t have time to reflect on the wide grin or the sharp teeth. The Man with the Sack used his free hand to yank a piece of duct tape free from roll attached to his belt. He released Nick’s face just long enough to slam the piece over his mouth before he could scream. The sack came over his head and body, and everything went black. Nick felt his body folding up like a kitten’s, curling into a ball as the sack was lifted off of the bed.

Nick heard his Father, “Nick! Where are you? NICK!”

Nick’s heart pounded. He tried to scream, but all that came from his throat was a dull high pitched hum.

Nick thought, “The one time I want to call him. I don’t care how angry or how drunk he is. Help me, Daddy!”

The Man with the Sack said, “It’s time for your birthday spankings, Nick. ONE…”

Nick felt something hard and sharp hit him in the left side. He knew what it was. It was one of the posts of his fence. He tried to scream again, but his rib throbbed in time with every sound he tried to make.

The Man with the Sack yelled, “TWO…”

Nick’s entire right side hit something hard and stationary. The image he had was a hacky sack hitting a brick wall. He could feel his flesh squishing into one huge bruise with the impact. It was enough to make him see stars in front of his eyes. His eyes were moist with pain, and somehow being unable to cry out made it seem to hurt more.

The Man with the Sack yelled, “THREE…”

Nick flailed desperately as he felt the man drop the sack. Nick’s face hit the pavement hard, and he heard a nasty popping sound from his nose. Blood poured from his nose down his face. Still, he inhaled more of it, unable to breathe through his mouth. It made him retch, but he couldn’t vomit and had to swallow it back. He could taste the disgusting coppery flavor of blood in the back of his throat.

The Man with the Sack yelled, “FOUR…”

Nick flinched and braced for impact. It was as though the man grabbed his head and spiked it like a football, dropping the sack at the same time. His head slammed into the curb. Nick heard a cracking sound, like the sound he heard when he broke his ankle at Soccer practice. He felt his head spinning for a moment and everything seemed to slow down. He heard the Man with the Sack continuing his count, but then all the pain seemed distant. He closed his eyes into a numbing, blissful, silence.

Perspective

2010-09-09T11:22:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a little while since I've written on my blog. Remember how I said, I'll have the comic done by the end of the week, barring a family emergency? Well, sadly there was a tragic family emergency recently. My Uncle died of cancer. The funeral was this last weekend, and it has made me pretty depressed. He was a good man and loved his family. He's been struggling with cancer for about two years now, but it continued to spread. He's endured painful chemotherapy, discouraging test results, and having to cope with knowing there wasn't anything more he could do. I can't imagine... I'm trying to be here for my family and be supportive of them. Seeing what they're going through has given me a new perspective on things and how I need to live my own life.

For one thing, the web comic was starting to stress me out. It was supposed to be a fun and new way for me to gain an internet presence, not something that was just another deadline. I've found myself frustrated with it, to the point I'm thinking "stupid web comic" and grumbling irritably when I think about working on it. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. Life is too short for me to be stressing myself out over something so trivial. So, I'm going to do it at my own pace and it'll be done when it is done. I already have an idea for another comic, so I'll might even put this first one down to work on that one if I continue to be annoyed with it. I'm my own boss and I need to stop being so darn hard on myself.

Also, I really need to be more spiritual. Joel and I are starting to do a bible study on Wednesday evenings in addition to going to church. I'm aware that I don't pray enough and that I don't trust in God enough. I need to let go and try to put my life in his guiding hands. I think if I can do that, I'll realize that things will always going as they should be, good or bad, and I'll be a lot less uptight and worried. Worrying doesn't do any good. I worry too much about writer's block, and the work I do in general. I need to stop worrying.

Finally, I think pretty soon my life is going to change quite a bit. Joel and I are talking seriously about having a baby. We're thinking it might even happen next year. If so, I need to focus on trying to get an agent for at least one of my completed books at the end of this year, so I can focus on planning for a baby next year. I'll need to do lots of reading... I still plan to write in my spare time, but in the future, I'm well aware that I won't have very much time for writing. Still, it will be worth it. Again, this is another reason why the web comic is a little less important than I first thought. I can still write, but Jesus and my family always have to come first.

As I've mentioned, I've been struggling with bad writer's block lately. I've been playing a good bit of World of Warcraft and then have been irritated at myself for doing it, as though maybe if I sat in front of the computer and "tried to write" it would just happen. I mentioned this to Joel and he was quick to point out that the past few months, particularly the past few weeks were very busy and different than usual for me. I was working hard to turn in my WoW story, planning several detailed sessions for my Grimm game (including drawing up maps for it), working on the web comic, and then this happened with my Uncle. While sometimes depression make me write well, usually it has a way of temporarily sapping my creativity. Deep down, I know that I can't force myself to write. You can't pump anymore water when the well runs dry. When my ideas come, I'll write them, but until then, I'm going to try to relax, destress, and cheer up. Wish me luck. I think I might need it.

Web Comic Realizations...

2010-08-23T09:47:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone,

I just wanted to keep you posted on the web comic situation. While my original goal was to have the comic done early in the week (today or tomorrow), I know now that goal was unrealistic. I'm going to tell you why, and ask you not to judge me harshly because I'm already feeling a little down on myself anyway. (I always judge myself more harshly than others do...that's just the way I am.)

1. The first comic is about the lightning strike. To emphasize the amount of destruction, I decided to make it a nine panel comic showing the various things that were broken. (It'll make the punch line much funnier, believe me.) Still, for just starting a comic, nine panels is very long and difficult undertaking.

2. I haven't done graphic design work in years. I thought it would be very easy to remember those skills. However, I was wrong. Since I haven't even picked up the program in so long, it turned out to be very difficult. The first few days were a disaster. I couldn't even remember how to make the boxes line up with one another and felt like I was losing my mind, and my skills. I'm doing much better now, but it's going to take me a little while to remember everything, meaning the comic will take longer to produce.

3. The comic is in color. This means something I could've simply sketched out will take twice as long to finish. I figured if I was going to do this, I might as well do it right. I think the finished product will look much better in color and will set a standard for my work. I just should've taken that into account when I thought about how long the comic was going to take me.

4. Writing a web comic is a very different experience than designing a sign. When you design a sign you mostly want it to be eye catching, simple yet bright and interesting enough to catch someone's eye. With a web comic, you're actually telling a narrative. You already have an audience who likes to read web comics, so you want to make it more stylized and while eye catching, more of something that is fun and amusing to follow. While I've always loved drawing, I've never drawn out a comic before, so this is a new experience for me.

5. I'm a perfectionist. Even though I really want to finish this by the deadline I set for myself, I want it to look good. Already I'm dissatisfied with the way my characters look, mostly because I should have more confident strokes on the characters, but I'm willing to let that slide. Still, there's a lot of work that needs to be done before I'll deem it "acceptable."

And there you have it. I'm setting a new generous deadline by allowing myself to be finished by the end of next week. Still, I think if I work extra hard on it, I could have it done, or close to being done, by the end of this week or early next week. I'll keep you posted. Sorry for the delay, but I think it'll be worth it. After this initial comic, I think most of my comics will be around three panels, and I'm going to try to produce one every two weeks. Wish me luck, and sorry that I accidentally lied to you. It seems I also lied to myself as well. Ain't that a B.

aMUSEment

2010-08-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

Hello everybody,

Just thought I would let you know I'm in a great mood this week due to the fact that I've purchased Muse tickets for when they tour in North Carolina during October. I'm totally psyched up about it. Muse is the group I listen to the most. I find them very inspirational for my writing and I've wanted to see them in concert since I started listening to them. It's very rare that I find a group where I like just about every song they sing and that is talented enough that their music doesn't sound the same every single album. I'm glad to say that with Muse I've found both.

Also, for some reason, this week has been very good for me. The weekend that led up to this week went swimmingly. The Grimm game went very well and the game later that night went well also. I've been very productive and yet I've balanced a lot of fun in with it, and Joel and I are getting along very well. I'm also almost done with all of the chores for the week already. I just hope things start going a little better for some of my other friends. It seems this week has been bad for a lot of people so far. I'll have to wait and see and do my best to cheer them up.

Also, I'm finally completely finished with the World of Warcraft story. I had to rework the ending a little bit because I realized it was way too abrupt. That's the only problem with working with word limits. If you get carried away with the story, something has to give, and usually that's the ending. I spent a few hours today trimming away extraneous sentences and working with the ending and I believe it made everything much smoother. Hopefully whoever is judging the contest will think so as well, but I'm not getting my hopes up too high.

Today, as soon as I finish this blog, I'm planning to get started on the web comic. I'm hoping to at least get the first doodles of our characters finished. That way, I can start the comic tomorrow afternoon and be finished by the end of this week or the beginning of the next. Now, that being said, barring an emergency or massive computer failure, I'm going to be held accountable. I know better than to promise something on the internet and then go back on that promise, except in the case of New Years resolutions (everyone goes back on those). So, I'm going to work on the web comic and post it on the blog as soon as I'm done. I hope you like it, but I'd better go ahead and go so I can keep my promise to you. Take care.

New Goal: Web Comics

2010-08-12T07:57:00.000-07:00

Just a brief update. Sorry I haven't been on very often, but I've been very busy. I just got back from the beach on Sunday. It was a very fun trip, but I was very tired. I think in a way I'm still recovering from it. It was one of those trips that was lots of fun, but not very restful. I was planning to do a lot of work while I was there, but for once all I felt like doing was resting. Still, I'm glad to say that I finished the WoW story on Monday, so I should be able to turn it in any day now. (The sooner the better.)

Other than that, my project for this week is mostly to plan for running my Grimm game on Sunday. (It's a table top role-playing game about children trapped in fairy tale lands, only the fairy tales are twisted into fractured fairy tales that have a horror slant.) I have lots of places to map out, so please wish me luck on finishing in time. Also, while I was at the beach, I came up with a new goal that hopefully will help make a web presence for me.

I'm going to start drawing a web comic very soon. It'll mostly be about video games, but it'll also be about movies, life, etc., anything that I find humorous. I've started character sketches and the first comic is going to be about the lightning strike that took out most of our electronics. I've already got it story boarded out. (Joel actually mostly did that for me, but we came up with the idea together.) It should be pretty fun to do and hopefully pretty funny.

Since Joel bought me a tablet, it should be a lot easier and more fun to draw on the computer. I can finally work with my left hand. I got used to using a right handed mouse when I was a graphic designer, but my left hand is the one that I usually draw with. Anyway, I like my tablet, and this is how I'm going to utilize it. This will not only hopefully get me at least a small internet following, but I can use this to sharpen my Graphic Design skills and more samples of work in case I want to break back into the industry. It would be nice to make a little money with some freelance work. We'll see.

Anyway, wish me luck on the web comic. I probably won't get to work on it much this week, but hopefully next week I'll have plenty of time. When I finish it, I'll be sure to post it on the blog. Until then, take care and keep reading!

Skeleton Crew

2010-07-23T11:58:00.000-07:00

Well, I just finished reading "Skeleton Crew" by Stephen King. I really enjoyed it, as with most of Stephen King's work, but with all short story compilations, there were some stories I loved, some I didn't really like, and some that didn't really stand out much to me. So, to cut down on time, I'm going to review the stories I liked and didn't like the most thoroughly and will breeze through the others in a sentence or two. (Sorry, this review is going to be long.) Still, overall this was a pretty good compilation, but for some reason I liked Night Shift better.

The Mist - The Mist was the first story in the book and recently there was a movie that came out based on this story. I might have to see the movie now because the story was pretty good. Still, there were a few things about it that made it less enjoyable for me. The basic storyline is a man and his son are on a trip to the supermarket when a strange mist rolls in and strange creatures start killing people in that mist. I liked the idea because it had a very Lovecraftian feel. Also, the concept of being trapped in a supermarket in that sort of crisis is interesting because it takes out the possibility of starvation or dehydration--at least for a very long time. The thing I found to be most unlikely however, was an old crone basically convinces most of the people there that they need to preform a human sacrifice to appease the monsters outside. First off, they're only trapped for about two or three days, so even though Lovecraft's monsters do tend to unhinge one's sanity, I like to think the situation wouldn't devolve that quickly. It takes more than a few days to form a cult. Since not everyone was for the idea at first, I think it would be more likely that they would hoist her outside before they would willingly throw someone else to the proverbial wolves. The second thing I didn't like, apparently Stephen King didn't like as well, was when the main character cheats on his wife during the crisis before he knows what has happened to her. If that wasn't enough, he doesn't bother to find out if she's alive or not later on. It was more than cowardly, and made me have a distinct lack of sympathy for the main character. I like to think that he could've controlled his urges for two or three days, and would've tried a bit harder at least for his son's sake to find his wife. Still, it wouldn't surprise me if Stephen King didn't want that to happen and it just sort of did. Sometimes characters don't do the things we originally want them to, at some point it's as though they control themselves. Still, overall, not a bad read.

Here There Be Tygers - This one made me giggle. Let's face it, in elementary school there's at least one teacher that you wish would get eaten by a tiger.

The Monkey - This was probably my favorite story in this book. The concept itself is kind of cliche, a possessed clockwork monkey makes a living thing die every time it claps it's cymbals together. Still, the way it is written is truly terrifying. The way the monkey is described is chilling, to the point you can almost see the demonic grin on its face as it causes something horrible to happen in the main character's life. The way he describes the thing is that it's just evil, not even a conscious evil but somehow naturally that way. Also, the fact that he tries to get rid of it and it just keeps reappearing is disturbing. The little blurb at the end about the fish dying is disturbing as well...

Cain Rose Up - Sorry, I have to give away the ending to this one, because to explain what the story is about I have to. This story didn't really impress me. It's a little chilling because of the calmness the main character shows as he basically loses his mind. Still, because the character didn't seem to have a reason to shoot anyone (he was shooting random people by the end of the story), the point was kind of lost on me. Maybe that was the point, that some people do horrific things and don't even know why themselves. I really don't know, but I didn't really like this one.

Mrs. Todd's Shortcut - I found this story really interesting. Basically, it's about a woman that tries to find the shortest route possible everywhere she goes, to the point that somehow she bends time and space to get there. The woman herself isn't normal, and as she cuts time off of her route, she also seems to get younger in the process. The woman is basically the avatar of Diana, and her car is her means of expression and freedom. This story was just fun to read. The way it's told draws you in little by little. It's a slow start, but by the end, it's really interesting.

The Jaunt - The Jaunt is probably my third favorite in this book. This is a science fiction story about teleportation, taking place shortly after teleportation is invented. I won't give away the ending, but basically it's a father telling his family about how the process called "the Jaunt" was invented. The scientist tested the process on mice originally, but the mice died when they got to the other side. This was due to sensory input, the mice saw something that killed them. When they were put under they came through safely. It turns out that those who can perceive when they teleport perceive it as eternity without anyone or anything to interact with. The concept is incredibly disturbing. In fact, the only complaint I have about this story is the environmental doomsday scenario that prompted this invention seemed unrealistic to me. (I don't buy into that sort of thing very easily.)

The Wedding Gig - This was kind of a fun story about a group of jazz musicians that are forced into playing during the wedding of the sister of the head of a criminal syndicate. Needless to say, things don't go well. It isn't a bad story, it just didn't stand out much to me. I actually had forgotten about this one.

Paranoid: A Chant - This is a short poem written from the perspective of someone with paranoid schizophrenia. It starts off almost humorous but gets worse and worse as the poem goes on. I have to admit the rhyme scheme was good and as a poem it was interesting and well written--still, almost a little too well written if you ask me. (Just kidding, Mr. King.)

The Raft - Everything about this story is pretty good, except for the fact I didn't like the characters. There was only one character I was "okay" with and she died first, so it was kind of hard to finish this one after that. There was a surprising amount of blood and gore in this story. Stephen King definitely has a way of making the most mundane of monsters still seem scary. This story is about "The Blob." I kid you not. A group of college students swim out to a raft, and a large dark spot in the water starts to pick them off one by one. I had trouble taking this story seriously because all I could think of was oozes, black puddings, and gelatinous cubes from D&D. (I also kept thinking of a very funny episode of the anime Cowboy Bebop, when he leaves a lobster in the fridge until grows an intelligent ooze that starts attacking everyone in the ship--the ooze is eaten in the end, instead of eating the crew like it did in this story.) Anyway, not all that impressive to me, but you may not have the same experiences I do and might enjoy this one more than I did.

Word Processor of the Gods - This was a pretty cool story. I liked the concept and I liked the ending. Basically, the main character has lost his sixteen year old nephew, a nephew that he really wishes had been his son rather than his brother's. His nephew made him a word processor for his birthday, just before he died, out of a conglomeration of spare parts, almost like a mad scientist's invention. When the main character uses the machine for the first time, he finds that he can delete things from reality, or add things to reality simply by typing. The Processor is like Aladdin's lamp. The power the main character is given is godlike, but the processor won't last long.

The Man Who Would Not Shake Hands - I really enjoyed this story as well. This one had the feel of an old timey setting, though I don't think the year is ever really said, with a group of older men telling stories. The story this one features is about a man who was afraid to shake hands with anyone--and it turns out there's a very good reason why involving a curse from Bombay.

Beachworld - This is a science fiction story where there are two survivors from a crash into an unknown planet. The planet is filled with sand, that for some reason is like beach sand rather than desert sand. It's a story about their struggle to survive and one of them descends into madness, but is it really madness if what he is thinking is true? The sand around them is alive. It isn't a bad story, but it didn't stand out very much to me. It had the feel of man verses environment and that sort of story doesn't typically appeal much to me--tough it was interesting when the environment took physical form against the one trying to escape at the end.

The Reaper's Image - This story seemed too short to me. I liked the idea of a mirror where a person would see the image of the Grim Reaper and then disappear. The fact the person who saw the image didn't die but just vanished was creepy and different, but there was a long lead up to finding out that fact, and not enough meat to the actual story, in my opinion. Then again, I do tend to make my stories a bit too long, but this one didn't start off fast enough and ended when it had just gotten interesting.

Nona - This story had an interesting twist at the end that pretty much made the story for me. I liked the symbolism of the personification of violence made in the image of the woman Nona, and the obvious Gynophobia of the main character. Still, since the main character is a murderer, it is a bit hard for me to sympathize with him. Still, I want to believe his story.

For Owen - I'm not sure what to say about this poem. It's very odd and describes children as various types of fruit. I have theories about the symbolism in this poem but would rather hear if anyone else has any ideas about what this poem is meant to mean. I think maybe it has something to do with feeling old in the presence of a young child.

Survivor Type - Probably my least favorite of the set. This story is about a man who is a surgeon, but also a drug dealer, who is trapped on a desert island without food and is forced to do the unthinkable to survive--he starts to eat himself bit by bit. He keeps considering himself a survivor and will do anything to survive. While I think the first amputation would probably have worked, this story was way too far fetched. Surgeon or not, he would've bled to death when he amputated his second foot, and would've run out of his four gallons of water probably before eating became the biggest problem he had to deal with anyway. I'll spoil the ending--by the end he's a torso and is eating his fingers. There's just no way.

Uncle Otto's Truck - This one was pretty good because it personified and vilified an object very well. In this case, it was a beaten up old truck. This is going to sound strange, but I've always thought of old trucks as feeling angry, because when they get faded and rusty and abused, there's something about the woods overgrowing on them that seems kind of neglectful. So, the truck having a grudge was kind of a creepy thought to me. I liked this story.

Morning Deliveries (Milkman #1) - The concept is disturbing because basically it's about a deranged milkman that poisons his clients. Still, I couldn't take it seriously because he reminded me too much of the milkman in the game Psychonauts. All I could think was "What is in the Milk?" And the cheerful look on his face as the threw the molotov cocktails. Still, a good story about the vulnerability people have to those who prepare their food.

Big Wheels: A Tale of the Laundry Game (Milkman #2) - I didn't like many of the characters in this game, but I'm pretty sure you weren't supposed to like them. That's why this one was entertaining to read. Explaining this story would take a bit too long. The Milkman is in it, but only briefly at the end, but his presence is felt throughout the whole story. Read it, and you'll know what I mean, but read the other first.

Gramma - This story is so messed up, but in a good way since that made me have lot of trouble putting it down. It's told from the perspective of a nine year old kid, left alone with his slightly crazy Grandmother. As the boy remembers stories about her little by little, you come to understand that his Grandmother isn't an ordinary old lady, and her past is pretty dark. His Grandmother dies while he's waiting on his mother to get home, but it seems that her business with him isn't quite over...
You can really sympathize with the little boy, and older people tend to be a little intimating to young children anyway, and this story speaks to the part of us that remembers that.

The Ballad of the Flexible Bullet - I'm not sure why, but this is my favorite story in this book. The story is about an editor talking about the strange madness of an author who gave him a story that came at the right time during his life. The madness of the author rubs off on him and he becomes paranoid. This story is amusing because the author believes that a little fairy called a Fornit lives in his typewriter and helps him come up with stories, and everyone around him is trying to secretly kill the Fornit. Still, the author's obsession with this imaginary creature pushes him to the point of trying to kill his wife, housekeeper, and her child, and eventually himself. Still, there's a question at the end of how much of this was in the author's mind. Did his belief in this creature somehow make it real, or was his madness somehow spreading to those around him. I liked the questions it posed and the story was genuinely different and compelling. It might be just because I am a writer and sometimes I also don't know where the ideas come from. I'd like to hear your opinion of this one as well.

The Reach - For some reason, I didn't get into this story at all. It's basically about an old woman who starts seeing the ghosts of friends and relatives, particularly her dead husband, beckoning to her. She thinks that she's about to die because of the things she's seeing, and decides that before she dies she'll cross "The Reach" a large body of water that separates her island community from the mainland. The reach has frozen over, so she can walk across it to get there. She's always been comfortable on the island and never wanted to leave, and most of the story is spent while she's reminiscing about old times and family lines. I found most of the story pretty slow and a little uninteresting, but the ending was touching, so I must've gotten attached to her somewhere along the way.

Well, that's it for my review. I'm sorry it was long, but I like to be thorough. I hoped you at least enjoyed it a little, and I highly recommend picking up this book.

Things Are Coming Together

2010-07-16T11:29:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm almost done with my World of Warcraft story. I should be done sometime next week, so it looks like I'll definitely be done by the deadline. Hooray. Then, it'll be back to working on the novel again, and potentially working on another short story or two for various anthologies. I'll have to check Ralan for the latest information.

Speaking of World of Warcraft, I'm also glad to say that I finally have a character that is nearly level sixty. It took me long enough to get there, but I'm glad to have finally made it. It's odd, the ending levels for the original game are oddly deserted. Not that I'm complaining. It's been mostly like my Husband and I are the only ones in the Western Plaguelands. Still, we're getting ready to jump the Dark Portal for the first time. Wish us luck. I'm excited about it. Also, now that we have a high level character, we should be able to buy the Northrend Expansion. I'm hoping to see most of what there is to see before the game changes with the upcoming Expansion. I'm very excited about that since the entire game will probably change a great deal, including the old areas.

Also, I'm glad to say that I've decided to start painting again. There are lots of things I want to do to better myself, and I'm finally managing my time well enough to do a few of them. I've started sketching a design onto a canvas that I've wanted to paint for a while. It was a scene based on a Victorian poem I read in college called, "Goblin Market." The drawing I made based on the poem is one of my best, but I have always wanted to actually paint it. So, that'll be a little project I can work on mostly next week.

Also, hopefully with the new Rock Band game coming out soon I'll finally make some progress on my keyboard. (The new game is supposed to actually teach you how to play all of the instruments.) I'm trying to learn piano, but I've always had trouble with musical instruments. Mostly it's staying motivated. I'm going to try to pick that up again soon and hopefully that silly game will help a little too once it comes out. Still, one thing at a time, starting with the painting.

I guess that's all that's new for now. Hopefully next week I'll have a review of "Skeleton Crew." Also, hopefully, I'll get to see another movie soon and will be able to write a review for either "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" or "Airbender."

WoW a contest...

2010-07-08T07:42:00.000-07:00

I just figured out a way to make my World of Warcraft addiction work for my writing as well. There is a World of Warcraft writing contest due around mid August and I'm going to enter.

I'm actually really excited about it. I've had an idea for a World of Warcraft short story, or at least a similar idea, for a little while now and it seems I finally have an excuse to put it to paper. My story is about a human that turns into a forsaken. He's from Raven Hill, before the entire area began to be known as Darkshire. While he's being changed into a forsaken by an alchemist in Undercity, Jitters finds the Scythe of Elune, and the main character's world changes forever. (I actually already have an outline written, but I don't want to spoil too many of the surprises...) It's going to be a very dark story, but it seems most stories involving the Forsaken would be.

I've got a lot of work to do on this story, so this will probably be my only blog entry this week. Still, it's nice to take a break from brainstorming about the next novel to write a short story every now and again. I'd love it if I could win this competition because it's a worldwide writing contest. Heck, I'd just be happy to have an honorable mention. Still, I know that probably isn't likely, but either way I think I'm going to have a lot of fun writing the story. I'll probably be doing that most of today.

Since my review of a few stories in Stephen King's "Skeleton Crew" has been pushed back, I think I'll just wait and write the review of the entire book at a later day. I'm getting through it slowly but surely, and there are plenty of good stories to review in it. It think it would be a shame not to at least gloss over a few of the ones I read recently.

Oh yes, speaking of free time and reading "Skeleton Crew," the beach trip went very well. I haven't had such a relaxing trip to the beach in a long time. It was a family trip, but most of the time we were reading, watching movies and television shows, and staying in the house. I did go to the beach and did some swimming. Even though I'm a little squeamish about dark water, it was pretty fun. We went to one shop at Broadway at the Beach where I got a Christopher Walken T-shirt that says, "I have a fever and the prescription is more Cowbell," based on the Saturday Night Live skit. There was a nice fireworks display for the forth of July, and for once, I really did feel like working on my writing. I got most of the outline for this contest written up while I was there, along with a few more notes for the new novel. All and all, a very fun and relaxing trip. It was just what I needed. I hope the next one goes as well.

Well, I'm off to do some writing and WoWing. Wish me luck.

Happy Independence Day!

2010-06-28T12:39:00.001-07:00

Well, I don't have much to say for this week, other than I had an excellent time with my friends last night, drinking pineapple rum, watching the Nostalgia Critic, and laughing like a hyena over several Christopher Walken moments. It was the most fun I've had in a long time and I laughed until I thought I was going to be sick. Christopher Walken is "the man."

I'm going to the beach for the forth of July and for my sister's birthday, so I'll be fairly busy packing and getting things arranged for the trip the rest of this week. That's why I've started this blog entry early. It should be a lot of fun to go on another vacation. I'm still hoping to go to Disney and Universal (specifically Universal for Halloween Horror Nights) later in October, but we'll just have to see if the money is there.

I'm making good progress on ideas for my new horror novel. I've come up with back stories for the main characters, the full setting, supernatural and non-supernatural small plot points, but I haven't gotten started yet. The rough plan is to continue working until I have the overarching plot and then start writing it either next week or maybe even at the beach. Sometimes it makes the stories even better when I don't give myself a time limit and write for the simple pleasure of it as part of a vacation.

Speaking of novels and stories, for those who are interested, I'm still waiting for word from Joel before I start submitting "Everburn" to agents. I like getting a second opinion and a cursory proof reading from someone other than myself before I start marketing the story. I've already proofed it myself once, but it needs another proof reading before I can submit it.

Next week, I plan to write a review for Stephen King's "The Mist" and "The Monkey." I read these two stories in his compilation, "Skeleton Crew." I will go ahead and say that I was happy with the Lovecraftian style of "The Mist," but not the way the characters reacted. I thought "The Monkey" was the scariest story I've read in a long time, which is odd since the story is about a possessed toy. Stephen King has a way of making even the most commonly used ideas terrifying. I can only hope by continuing to read his books maybe a small fraction of his talent will somehow rub off on me. Like I said, though, I'll get more into that next week.

In the meantime, Happy Independence Day!

Hooray Inspiration (And Modern Einherjar Part 2)

2010-06-25T12:46:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm glad to say I'm finally inspired to write again. I spent all day working on my new idea for my horror novel and I must say, it's going pretty well so far. I've written character histories for all of the main characters, written about the "ordinary" problems the main character will have that will be intermixed with the supernatural ones, and I've pretty much already fleshed out the setting. So, I should be able to get to the meat of the story soon. I feel like I could fly right now.

Anyway, I promised that if there was any interest I'd post the second part of Modern Einherjar. I apologize if there are any spelling or grammatical errors after I post it. I'm usually pretty good about catching my mistakes, but I caught one or two in the first part of the story. I'm going to check them both again soon. I hope you like the second part of the story. The second part is where it really starts to get strange, but I think it's a pretty fun story. Thanks for reading and following my blog.

The next day Finn awoke, exhausted. Once again, he found himself wishing that it was all a dream, but what he saw in the morning proved he was in for much worse. Burr had grown. He still looked like a baby, but he had to weigh nearly two hundred pounds and was as tall as Finn. Burr was sitting up in his crib, crying and bashing at the wooden bars around him, causing them to shatter into a rain of splinters.

Finn thought to himself, “And, if he ever gets mad at me, one punch is enough to send me flying through the wall.”

Still, Finn guided Burr away from the smashed remains of the crib and helped pull the splinters from his surprisingly soft skin.

Finn said, “Well, Burr, I guess you’ll be sleeping on the air mattress from now on.”

Burr laughed and said, “Funny, Daddy!”

Finn nearly screamed with surprise. Even though his baby looked like a giant infant, he was learning. He was even beginning to toddle around, attempting to walk on two legs.

Finn said, “Burr? When did that happen?”

Burr said, “I learning all night.”

Even as Finn watched him, it was as though Burr was getting bigger. His skin tone was turning almost gray, and he just became rounder and larger at every moment. Loki said that he would grow up quickly, but Finn knew if he continued this way, he would be grown up within a few days.

Finn shivered and thought, "Maybe before the day is even over."

Finn tried to smile, “Keep up the good work, and Daddy will buy you something special.”

Finn sighed and looked at the house. He hoped that Loci was right, that Burr would be able to shape-shift so that maybe he could shrink down small enough not to destroy the house.

Finn tried to watch the news but once again saw strange things he didn’t want to see. Some of the reporters had a strange halo of light around them, making them look taller with pointed ears. Something in the back of his mind told him they were descended from elves. In the background of disasters, he saw giants and terrible monsters. People would be standing in front of them without even knowing they were there.

Finn turned off the television.

He sighed and said, “How can I do this? I don’t know where Loki’s sons are, so how do I find them?”

A female voice said in his mind, “Perhaps I can help you.”

Finn looked around, and behind him there was a beautiful woman accented by a beam of sunshine.

She said, “My name is Sol, the goddess of the sun. I too have a wolf pursuing me, so I’ll make this brief. The entrances to the world of the gods are all around you, but you have to be looking for them. Go to a forest and look for a special tree. The world is a tree, so it’s only natural an entrance would be in one.”

Sol began to fade away.

Finn whispered, “Thank you.”

Finn went into Burr’s room and stopped in horror at what he saw. Burr took up the entire room. His skin was a bluish black and his eyes were so dark they looked like black marbles. He also looked like a teenager.

Finn mouthed, "Impossible. You were barely walking a few minutes ago."

Burr said to Finn, “Few minutes? That was few hours! Where is my Mommy?”

Finn looked out of the window. It was midday. Somehow just his brief talk with Sol had lasted a few hours.

Finn thought, "Or maybe the sun itself moved, making time go faster somehow..."

Finn stammered, “She . . . I mean, he . . . he’s gone to visit with the other gods.”

Burr said, “I want Mommy! BRING ME MOMMY!”

Finn said, “Now, Burr, I would if I knew where he was, I would, but . . .”

Burr suddenly picked Finn up, “You said you would buy me something. You said you would take care of me! I hungry! Feed me now!”

Finn said, “Okay, Burr. Just put Daddy down, and I’ll feed you.”

Finn quickly started taking things from the refrigerator. Burr walked in behind him, squeezing through the kitchen door and breaking the molding around it. As soon as Finn brought out something to eat, Burr ate it until the refrigerator was empty.

Burr looked at Finn and said, “Thank you, Daddy. I’m going to go find Mommy. I too old to live here.”

Finn nodded, “I guess you are a little too old to live here. I’m sorry, Burr. I didn’t know you would grow so fast.”

Burr shrugged, “It okay.”

Finn said, “When you’re looking for your Mommy, she’s no longer a woman. He goes by the name of Loki now and can shape-shift. If you find him, tell him that Finn wants to talk to him.”

Burr nodded, “Okay, Daddy.”

With that, Finn’s only son grabbed a few of his favorite baby toys and left, waving as he strode out of the house in one giant stride.

#

Finn drove to the closest national park, thinking of what Sol had said. He hoped that she was still watching and helping him, because as he parked his car and looked around, he was surrounded by trees, and none of them looked special.

Finn muttered to himself, “I have to be looking for it. Well, I am looking for it, desperately.”

Finn wandered around the paths and then trudged away from them and walked around until he felt lost. He stopped to pull a drink from his backpack then paused at what he saw. There in front of him was a beautiful tree accented by sunlight. He moved up to it and began to touch the bark, looking for a knob or some sort of entrance. As he stared at the bark, he suddenly realized he could make out images, and towards the top he saw the image he wanted--a gnarled and twisted branch that looked like a wolf’s head on the end.

Finn climbed the tree eventually reaching the branch that looked like a wolf’s head.

Finn muttered, “Now, how to enter. . .”

Finn suddenly remembered his dream and, cringing, put his hand inside of wooden mouth. Suddenly, everything went blurry, and he found himself in a familiar clearing in front of a giant cave that really wasn’t a cave, with a familiar pink tongue waving a greeting for him.

Fenrir said, “You are visiting me in person? Why?”

Finn said, “I need to know what Loki is planning.”

Fenrir laughed and said, “Oh, it’s a wonderful plan--I may be free sooner than later. He’s going to trick the gods into an early Ragnorak.”

Finn cursed under his breath but asked, “How? What does he plan to do?”

Fenrir shook his head, “I can’t tell you that. I want to get out of here. I wouldn’t dare risk telling anyone.”

Finn could already almost feel the pain, but he knew what he had to do.

Finn said, “I’ll bet you’re very hungry. When was the last time you were fed?”

Fenrir snarled and said, “Thousands of years ago.”

Finn nodded, “In the dream, you made me feed you my hands and legs. They’re like peanuts to you, but I’ll bet one peanut would taste pretty good right now.”

Finn heard a terrible rumble like thunder after a bolt of lightning, and realized it was the wolf’s stomach.

Fenrir groaned, “You would feed me a hand--a real hand?”

Finn nodded, “My left hand, in exchange for finding out what Loki is up to. Do we have a deal?”

Fenrir whimpered, “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry too much. There really isn’t much you can do to stop him. GIVE ME THE HAND!”

Finn shook his head, “Sorry--the information first. I could walk away after you told me, but I have a feeling that wouldn’t be a credit towards my soul, even if you are the gods’ enemy.”

Fenrir nodded, “Okay, I’ll tell you. Loki is currently rallying the giants and is making a deal with Hel. He plans to kill Baldr himself, and then before they can catch him, have an all out war against the gods on their own turf at Asgard.”

Finn nodded and waved his hand one more time in front of Fenrir’s large speckled eye, “Anything else?”

Fenrir began to salivate as he said, “Yes. He plans to change fate--now, about that hand?”

Finn closed his eyes and took a deep breath, saying, “Okay. You kept your end of the deal. It’s my turn to keep mine.”

Finn put his hand on Fenrir’s bottom jaw. It was done in an instant. Finn screamed in pain and felt faint as he saw his blood staining the grass red. The world seemed to be blurring around him, and suddenly he realized he was falling out of the tree.

Finn ripped his shirt, wrapping his hand in the make-shift bandage and pulling his belt around his arm as a tourniquet. He couldn’t believe the amount of blood--that was something the dream had glossed over. For several minutes, all he could do was scream in pain and shock, but finally, he stood up.

“Sol,” he called, “I found out what Loki is up to. He’s going to try an all-out war with the gods. He’s rallying troops! Have I done enough yet?”

Finn waited for a reply, but noticed the sun was starting to go down. Once again, he was sure he saw a dark cloud in the shape of a wolf chasing it towards the horizon.”

Finn looked at the stump where his hand used to be. He had lost even more blood than he expected and was starting to feel dizzy. Still, he grabbed a long dead branch on the ground and used it as a walking stick, and wandered until he found his car. By the time he got there he felt feverish with pain. He hoped he would make it to the hospital.

#

“It was a hit and run,” Finn said to the emergency attendant. “I fell off my bike, and he ran over my hand! I looked for it, but it was gone. I think it stuck in the wheel!”

The doctors admitted him for an overnight stay but were mainly trying to ease his pain. They discussed options for him, such as a possible robotic hand, or trying to find the hand to see if it could be reattached. Finn said the “accident” was in his neighborhood for authenticity and told them it was a “white car”, knowing very well that they wouldn’t find anything. Still, he gladly accepted the painkillers and eventually fell asleep in the hospital bed.

#

Finn felt very small as the man on the eight legged horse thundered down from the cloudy sky above him.

He said in a bland tone, “You must be Odin.”

Odin snarled, “Yes, and you must be a fool to address a god in such a familiar way. Still, Sol told me what is going on.”

Finn nodded and said, “I did what you told me.”

Odin frowned and his eight legged horse reared, “You have not. You must help us stop Loki. Until you do, you’re still destined to be eternally punished.”

Finn shouted, “THIS ISN’T MY FAULT!”

Odin said, “Then whose fault is it? What possessed you to tell Loki of the prophecies? How can we trust you without having you prove to us you aren’t on his side. You were his husband, after all.”

Finn was shaking with rage as he said, “He tricked me! I hate him! I punched him in the face when I found out!”

Odin paused and said, “You punched a god?”

Finn rolled his eyes, “They always seem so surprised.”

Odin shrugged, “You are either very brave or quite foolish. But, such brash actions might be of some use to me. You may be able to slay Loki, simply because he wouldn’t expect you to fight him.”

Finn shook his head, “I’m not that stupid! You just said it was foolish for me to try to hit a god and now you want me to try to kill one?”

Odin nodded, “I will give you the sword Gram. With it, I think you may have a chance.”

Finn said, “Haven’t I done enough? I lost a hand to get the information I gave you! Why can’t you leave me alone?”

Odin’s voice seemed to echo as a black void surrounded them, “I WILL GLADLY LEAVE YOU! YOU WILL SUFFER AS BADLY AS LOCI! I GAVE YOU A CHANCE, FOOLISH MORTAL. I LEAVE THE SWORD WITH YOU. WHAT YOU DO WITH IT IS UP TO YOU.”

Suddenly, Finn felt himself falling infinitely towards darkness, far darker than he had ever seen. He felt as though something terrible and indescribable awaited him at the bottom and more than anything, he didn’t want to see it.

#

Finn woke up screaming in his hospital bed. It was dark outside and the only light came from the hallway. He felt something metal underneath his hand and realized it was a huge hilt. Next to him was a sword about half the size of his body, still it was surprisingly light, enough that he could lift it with one hand. Finn looked at his where his left hand used to be and gasped in shock--it was back.

Finn thought in panic, “How will I explain this to the nurses? How will I get out of here without someone stopping me?”

Finn slowly snuck out of his bed, pulling the IV from his arm. He heard the nurse on his hall talking on the phone. He smiled as he saw his clothes were still in the bathroom. He slipped them on, feeling slightly sick at the sticky
sensation--they still had blood on them. He was glad he had worn a black shirt. No one would know if he could sneak away.

Finn thought, “What luck, usually they would take the clothes away.”

Finn slowly edged out of his room, holding the sword at his side. He couldn’t imagine what the woman would say or do if she saw him with that sword, especially if she noticed the blood on his clothes. Still, she had her back turned to him, so he knew he had a small chance of escaping if he was very, very quiet.

As he carefully edged past her, he thought over and over, “I’m not here . . . you can’t see me. I’m invisible. I’m invisible.”

To his surprise, she didn’t turn around. He reached the elevator and went to the parking lot, and easily drove home with his fully functioning new left hand.

#

Finn felt his mouth going dry as he saw the lights on in his house. He knew they weren’t on when he left.

Finn slowly edged towards his door, thinking at first it was a prowler, but then remembered Burr telling him that he would pass the message on to Loki that he wanted to talk to him. He gripped the sword tightly and slowly opened the door.

Burr took up the entire living room. The door wouldn’t open all the way since his foot was blocking it.

Burr said, “I told Mommy what you said. She said she would meet you in the park when you got back. So I waited to give you the message.”

Finn smiled slightly. Even thought Burr was huge, his face looked oddly like Finn’s.

Finn nodded, “Thanks, Burr. I’ll head out after I change.”

Burr nodded and once again, Finn had a strange sensation as he saw the giant changing size, shrinking down so he could fit through the door.

As Burr walked out he said, “I’ll miss you, Daddy. You won’t win.”

Finn turned, “Wait! How did you know?”

Burr shrugged, “Mommy knew.”

Then Burr walked through the door, and as Finn looked out to wave good-bye, he was already gone.

Finn changed into the thickest clothes he could find. He felt strange, like everything he was doing was déjàvoux. He grabbed his leather jacket and even placed a few metal pans under it. He knew it would come to swords--every strange deity he encountered seemed to have one, and he needed any protection he could get.

Finn looked around his house and sighed, getting the feeling that it would be the last time he would see it. He looked at the wedding pictures of him and Leikny and then threw them away, thinking bitterly about what a terrible lie it all was, and at the same time sincerely wishing that it wasn’t.

Finn closed the door and walked down the street, carrying the sword like a child would carry a baseball bat towards the park.

#

Loki was waiting in the middle of the baseball field. He was the size of a normal person but was still very much a man.

Loki walked towards Finn and said, “I knew you would show up. I see you’ve been given the sword, Gram. So, Odin sent you to fight me. I guess he thinks he’s being very smart. It’s too bad for him that I was watching you the entire time, or this really might have taken me off guard.”

Finn held the sword up, “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Loki frowned, “I don’t want to fight you, Finn. You know you can’t beat me.”

Finn was shaking with rage, “You lied to me and made a mockery of my life. Then, you left me knowing I was a condemned man for helping you. I lost my hand to one of your ‘children’ and the other one grew up so quickly I feel like I’ve lost my entire family. I’m going to kill you, Loki!”

Loki shrugged, “You have legitimate complaints, but committing suicide by trying to fight me won’t help. Besides, at least I gave you your hand back.”

Finn frowned, “No you didn’t. Odin did that.”

Loki snapped, “No, Odin didn’t. Odin was furious at you, and while he left you the sword, he wasn’t about to do you any favors. I disguised myself as a nurse and gave you your hand. Then, I let you sneak out so you could meet me here.”

Finn yelled, “WHY THEN? WHY MEET ME WHEN YOU KNOW I’M HERE TO KILL YOU?”

Loki said with a strange smile, “I have my reasons.”

Finn held the sword up, “Let’s do this then!”

Finn ran towards Loki with the sword over his head, but Loki dodged to the side and held out a leg which Finn tripped over, thrown off balance by the sword.

Loki laughed, “Finn, you’re just embarrassing yourself. Have you ever even lifted a sword in your life?”

Finn snapped, “Gee, I thought my wife would know me well enough to know the answer to that one.”

Loki laughed, “Yeah that would be a ‘no.'”

Finn got up and lunged for Loki, but Loki dodged again and kicked him back down.
Loki said, “That isn’t a toy, Finn.”

Finn asked as he was getting back up, “Why are you doing it, Loki? I thought you liked this world, and you’re trying to destroy it.”

Loki shrugged, “I like this world but I want to punish them. Don’t you understand? I make things interesting for them. What is order without chaos?”

Finn brushed himself off, “What is chaos without order?”

Loki smiled, “You’re wiser than I gave you credit for, too. Okay, Finn. I’ll make a deal with you. If you can put one scratch on me with that sword, I’ll do what I’m destined to do and spare your world a little longer. If you can’t, I won’t end this fight quickly--you get to start suffering a little bit early.”

Finn rushed Loki again, but instead of slicing with the sword, he jumped on him, tackling him to the ground, remembering his rougher days in a college fraternity and his occasional bar fight.

Loki was cackling as Finn punched him repeatedly in the face, grabbing for the sword again, but not quite reaching it. Loki pushed him gently, but it was enough to throw him over five feet, back within range of the sword. Loki looked like he was about to jump him and really punch him, but paused as Finn lifted up the sword.

Loki shrugged, “Back to that sword again, are we? This was entertaining, but I’m starting to get bored. What are you going to try next? Hazing me?”

Finn sighed, “You’re right. I’ve never lifted a sword in my life. And, it seems I can’t even fight with one to save my life either.”

Finn pulled the frying pan out from under his jacket, and grabbed the sword, putting the point up against his chest, “So, I might as well end this now. You said so yourself. You’ll just make me suffer more.”

Loki slowly walked forward, “Wait, Finn. Come on, we can talk this out. We were close once, it doesn’t have to end this way.”

Finn kneeled and pushed harder on the sword, making him bleed slightly.

Loki rushed forward, “STOP IT, FINN! YOU FOOL!”

Finn quickly picked the sword up with both hands and sliced upwards as hard as he could. It grazed Loki’s cheek.

Finn grinned, “Who’s the fool now?”

Loki touched his cheek and looked at the blood on his fingers. He suddenly laughed. He laughed so hard he fell backwards.

Finn said, “Our deal?”

Loki nodded, “You scratched me with the sword. I may be a liar, but I made a deal. And, I won’t make you suffer.”

Loki unsheathed his sword. It was like a beacon of divine fire in the middle of the dark plain field.

Finn stammered, “But . . . you were going to spare me!”

Loki shook his head, “No, I said I was going to make you suffer. But now, I won’t. I’ll make this very quick.”

Finn held up the sword, trying to defend himself, but the sword sliced through his chest in a flash of white hot pain. He was barely conscious of the fact Loki caught him before he hit the ground, or the fact that Loki had missed his heart. Either way, the wound was deep, and Finn could tell he didn’t have much time.

As Finn laughed he began to cough, blood slipping down the sides of his mouth.

He said to Loki, “Well, I’ll bet you didn’t expect that one.”

Loki grinned, “You bet I didn’t. I knew I liked you.”

Finn’s body shuddered, and suddenly he felt as though he was floating. It looked as though a beautiful woman was carrying him, but it had to be his imagination, because he knew that he was supposed to suffer in death. Still, instead of a black abyss like he was expecting, he saw a brilliant white light and then found himself sitting at a table with the most delicious smelling food he had ever seen in front of him. Odin was at the head of the table.

Finn said in a shocked whisper, “I don’t understand . . .”

Odin grinned and held up a drink, “To Finn, the newest of the Einherjar, for tricking Loki and restoring order to the world.”

The large men sitting around him screamed, “HERE, HERE!”

Odin continued, “I never thought I’d find another Einherjar from the modern world to fight on my side. All of your warriors are so cowardly, shooting people from far away before the enemy even gets to see what they look like. But you struck a god! Congratulations. You’ll have a long time to learn how to fight before Ragnorak.”

At first, Finn thought that living the life of an Einherjar was eternal suffering, because every day was the same--a full day of feasting and fun and then a battle royale against the other gods. Whenever one of them died in the battle, they were returned to the feast hall fully intact and ready for another fight. But, the more he fought, the more he enjoyed it.

Finn was learning to be a great swordsman and was allowed to wield Gram from then on.

One day, while he was drinking from the fountain of the Valkyries, a black raven dropped a scrap of paper at his feet. To his surprise, it was a crumpled up photograph of him and his former “wife.”

On the back of the photo was a note saying, “Dear, Finn. I enjoyed our battle. I also enjoyed being tricked for a change. I look forward to trying it again at Ragnorak. And, now you know why I chose to fight you. I hope you enjoy Valhalla.”

Finn suddenly understood everything. Loki had fought him to save his soul and to make his death worthy enough for Odin’s hall. He felt almost sad as he looked at that picture and realized he wouldn’t be in Valhalla if it wasn’t for Loki.

Finn smiled slightly and said under his breath, “I look forward to it, ‘Leikny’, and thanks--for everything.”

Modern Einherjar

2010-06-14T11:17:00.000-07:00

Hello all,

Well, once again, I have writer's block. I must say, that at least my house is looking much cleaner since I tend to obsess over things like that when I'm not writing. I've also picked up my World of Warcraft addiction again, but at least it makes me happy. I've only been doing "nothing" for a few days now, but already I'm feeling lazy. I was planning to take off a full month, but I'm thinking that I won't be able to handle that. No worries, though, I will be writing again as soon as I have an idea for another novel. In the meantime, I plan to take some more time off and maybe check Ralan for some more short story anthologies. Maybe I can even find some homes for my previously written stories, like the one that I'm sharing an excerpt from with you today.

This is probably the oddest story I've ever written. It was written for an anthology trying to take differing mythologies and mixing them with the present day. Since I've always liked Norse mythology, I chose to write a story based on my favorite Norse god, Loki. In the story, a normal man finds out that he's married to the shape-shifting god of mischief, and has produced a half-giant child with him(her at the time)as well. The poor man soon also finds that he now has a role in the fate of the world, as well as the fate of the gods themselves, because he didn't realize the stories the Norse people told were prophecies instead of legends, and now Loki has gotten a peek at his own ending--and doesn't like it. It's not my best work, but I do think the story turned out to be very interesting.

Anyway, here are the first twenty pages of "Modern Einherjar." I hope you like it.

The baby wasn’t normal from the start. Nothing was normal about him, not the birth or the way he came into the world with a strange giggle as his first breath. He was twenty-five pounds, the biggest baby the doctors had ever seen, yet during the birth, his mother didn’t seem to be in any pain at all.

Finn didn’t know why it bothered him to see his son, after all, it was his child; it even looked like him. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about the baby and that his wife was hiding something from him. He also didn’t understand why the sight of his child literally frightened him.

Leikny said, as she closed the door to the baby’s room, “It’s natural to be scared Finn. I’m a little scared too. This is our first baby. It’s a big responsibility.”

Finn sighed, “You’re right. I guess I’m just nervous. I’d better be careful not to associate him with what I’m feeling then.”

Leikny smiled, “Burr is so special. I’m sure one day he’ll do great things!”

Finn nodded, “Are you sure you don’t want him to sleep in our room tonight?”

Leikny shook her head, “No. He’s adjusting really well to his crib. I think it’s best if he starts out this way so he can get used to it.”

Finn nodded, “Maybe I’ll get some sleep tonight for a change. I think I’ve been more stressed out for the past week than you have.”

Leikny sighed, “Yeah, maybe for once you won’t have any nightmares.”

As they both got ready for bed, Finn muttered, “I hope so, too.”

#

It always started out the same way. There was a terrible storm and Finn was in a small boat on the ocean. The sky was as black as polished obsidian, and the waves were the color of a withered plant. Finn didn’t want to look into the water, because he knew what he would see. There was something writhing beneath the boat, making whirlpools and monstrous waves as it moved. The last time he was there, he had almost caught sight of its dreadful head--this time he might see it entirely, and if that happened, he was sure he would lose his mind.

Once again, as he paddled away from the whirlpool, he saw it from the corner of his eye. He tried to look away but found himself transfixed, as though hypnotized by the massiveness of the black and green thing rising out of the water like a great monument to remind him just how small and insignificant he and his entire race really were.

At first it looked like a giant, round island of rock jutting from the waves, but then it parted in the middle and he saw it had a terrible red mouth.

It hissed in a different language that he could somehow understand, “Our brother’s name?”

Finn shook his head, “I don’t know your brother! Leave me alone!”

The waves seemed to swell around him as it spoke so loudly it sounded like the voice of a tornado, “You know the name I wish to know, so tell me the name of your son.”

Finn frowned, “My son? My son isn’t your brother! Stay away from him!”

For the first time, Finn saw the terrible eyes on the side of the head--a head larger than an aircraft carrier, glaring at him. The red eyes had a yellow halo of light against the black and green of its scales, like moons of ill omen. As it submerged into the blackness of the waves, he felt his boat shaking dangerously from side to side. Then he fell as it tipped into the ocean--he could be swimming around inside of that giant mouth for all he knew, ready to close around him any second...

Leikny was gently shaking him when he woke up, “Dear, you’re having a nightmare. Please wake up!”

Finn sat up immediately, gasping for breath. He was sweating so badly the sheets were wet.

Finn hugged his wife and said, “I don’t understand it. I’m not even afraid of snakes, but it always seems so real.”

Leikny nodded, “I’m sorry, Honey. Try to go back to sleep.”

Finn looked at the clock every hour, unable to sleep as usual after one of those terribly vivid dreams. He quietly watched his wife getting up to check on the baby several times, and each time he thought he heard her singing to it in some sort of foreign language.

As she climbed back in bed the last time, he asked, “Babe, what are you singing to him? Is it in another language?”

Leikny smiled, “Oh, nothing. It’s just a song that my Mom used to sing to me. It is in another language, but I never asked her what the words meant.”

Finn smiled at her, but then frowned as he turned on his side. She had that look on her face again that told him she wasn’t telling the truth. It seemed a silly thing to lie about, but it seemed she was lying more often lately.

#

Finn managed to take a nap in the morning. The days off from work were coming to an end, but he wanted to spend more time with his baby before he had to leave him every morning until late at night.

Finn heard his wife in the nursery saying, “Come on, Burr! I know you can do it. You are your Father’s son.”

Finn slowly cracked the nursery door--then quickly threw it open at what he saw. Leikny was holding the baby upside down by the ankles. He was crying and his face was turning pink.

Finn shouted, “LEIKNY! PUT HIM DOWN! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?”

Leikny gently laid the baby back down in the crib, and stammered, “Nothing. I…I thought he was choking on something. I thought if I turned him upside down…”

Finn shook his head, “You’re lying! I can tell. I heard you saying something about him being able to do something. What were you talking about?”

Leikny smiled, “Honey. You have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt our baby, but I’m too embarrassed to tell you what I was trying to do.”

Finn shouted, “YOU WERE HOLDIING HIM BY HIS ANKLES!”

Burr began to cry.

Leikny whispered, “Shhh, your shouting is scaring him.”

She picked him up and cradled him.

Finn whispered, “Leikny, you’ve been acting really odd lately. I want to trust you, but I know you’re lying. Why?”

Leikny frowned, “You’re right. I have been hiding something from you. But, it’s very difficult to explain.”

Finn sighed, “You could try.”

Leikny was staring off into the distance but said, “Okay, Finn. I promise I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Finn nodded and left the nursery. He began to toy with his computer, looking up various things as he thought of them. He kept stopping on mental health pages, reading about psychological problems, wondering if he could trust his wife, and worrying that her secret had something to do with the way she was acting.

#

“Not the clearing...” Finn groaned, but he was moving as though something was guiding him, unable to walk away.

There was a cave in front of him with giant stalagmites and stalactites hanging down like great teeth in a giant maw. Beyond the cave, he could see a huge hillside covered with thick fields of wheat.

“They aren’t stalactites, they’re teeth.” Finn said.

He felt ill as he, once again, saw what looked like a giant worm wiggling around inside of the cave--it wasn’t a worm but an enormous pink tongue.

A gruff voice said, “Please, I’m so hungry. Just a hand would do. Would you put your hand in my mouth? A hand was my first meal, after all.”

Finn shook his head but found himself putting his hand at the base of the cave, as though his arm was no longer under his control.

Finn screamed, “NO! PLEASE, NO!”

But, the huge jaws came down, severing his hand at the wrist. He wrapped his jacket around the stub that was left, trying to stop the bleeding.

The giant wolf’s head said, “Ah, thank you so much! You are very generous, just as Father said you were...”

He saw the hillside moving around. It wasn’t a hillside at all, but the body of the huge wolf. The fields of wheat he thought he saw were actually a huge tawny pelt of waist deep hair. The animal’s body writhed in the distance, but was held down by a huge ribbon that seemed to be binding his legs.

The wolf looked down at Finn and said, “It looks so easy to break doesn’t it? But, it’s the most difficult thing that has ever bound me.”

Finn looked at the nub he had where his hand used to be and muttered a half-felt, “Sorry.”

The wolf asked, “So, what did you name your baby?”

Finn snapped, “Burr, okay? We named him Burr.”

The ground shook as the wolf laughed, saying, “Ah. Our clever Father named him, ‘Son’. How very like him.”

Finn yelled, “I’M NOT YOUR FATHER!”

The wolf chuckled again, making Finn fall over on his wounded arm as the ground shook around him.

It said, “I never said you were.”

The wolf’s eyes looked like huge inset stones filled with embedded gems and were hypnotic to look at. Finn felt that he couldn’t look away.

It said in a whisper as quiet as a breeze, “Can I please have your other hand?”

Finn said, “NO,” but still saw that he was walking up to the huge cave and putting his other hand at its base. He screamed in excruciating pain as the unfathomable jaws came down.”

Saliva dripped from the teeth, forming a small stream in front of Finn, “Now your leg, just one leg. You have two, you surely don't need both.”

Finn shook his head, “NO!”

Still, an unknown force stuck his leg out for him, and in a flash of movement from the cave-like mouth, it was gone.

Finn curled up on the ground, pushing feebly against it with his one remaining leg. The cruel gem-like eyes looked down at him and begged, in a way that almost did make him feel sorry for it, as it said, “Now, the other leg?”

Finn screamed, waking up but unable to move. He concentrated hard on his right hand, then the left, and took a quick glance at his right leg. He still did have his hands and legs, but they didn’t seem to want to move.

Finn finally felt the feeling coming back to them. But, as he looked at the ceiling, about to get up for a cup of water, he found himself too frightened to move.
Burr was crawling on the ceiling. It was as though his small hands had somehow suctioned to it, and he was pawing at the dangling cords of the ceiling fan, the dream of every kitten. Burr looked down at Finn and smiled. His eyes were as black as charcoal and would’ve seemed like empty sockets if Finn hadn’t seen the glint of light from the moon shining in them. Finn screamed, and Burr began to cry, suddenly falling from the ceiling and landing on the bed.

Leikny turned on the light next to her, “Burr, Sweetie? Hey, Finn, you brought Burr in here? I thought we agreed he needed to stay in his crib.”

Finn shook his head, still in shock.

Leikny picked him up, “I’ll put him back in his crib.”

When she came back into the room Finn stammered, “But he was crawling!”

Leikny sighed, “He’s too young to crawl, Dear. He’s a newborn.”

Finn pointed, “On the ceiling!”

Leikny gave him an incredulous look, “Now, who’s lying? You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

Finn nodded, “Yes, but he wasn’t in here. I didn’t go get him. When I woke up, he was up there!”

Leikny yawned, “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

#

Leikny was pacing the room.

She turned and said, “Seriously, Finn. You should sit down for this.”

Finn nodded and sat down, afraid of what he was about to hear.

She sighed, “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. There’s just no way to hide it anymore, so now is as good a time as any.”

Finn sighed, “Is it that you have a history of mental health problems?”

Leikny paused, “What?”

Finn said, “Well, after I saw you holding Burr like that and the fact that you were lying so much to me, I thought that maybe you were keeping something like that from me...”

She shook her head, “I’ll explain that, too. Look, you aren’t going to guess it. You might as well let me explain.”

Finn interrupted, “Another man then? I’m not the Father of my son?”

Leikny said, “I’m insulted by that one. I’ve always been loyal to you.”

Finn shrugged, “Okay, then what?”

Leikny sighed heavily, “I’ve been married before. And, I’ve had other children. Wow, just telling you makes me feel better telling you already.”

Finn shrugged, “I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me, but that’s not as bad as I thought. I would’ve still married you, you know. You're so young though. How old were you when you got married?”

Leikny had an awkward look on her face, “That part is complicated, too. I’m afraid there’s more to it than that.”

Finn nodded, “Go on.”

Leikny sighed, “It may be easier to show you than to tell you.”

Finn felt like he had slipped into another nightmare. At first he thought the room was shrinking but then realized his wife was beginning to glow and grow in size. Her clothes ripped and tore off as she grew. She cringed at the ever approaching ceiling and sat down on the floor hard, filling up the room and making the house shake so badly, a few china plates rolled off the shelves and shattered.

She gave him an awkward smile and said, “I’m afraid there’s more.”

Suddenly, Leikny didn’t look like herself anymore. It was as though her head was absorbing her hair until it became short, and even though some of her features were still slightly effeminate and her face looked the same, she was definitely a man. Finn immediately felt dirty.

Finn rubbed his eyes and looked at her, then rubbed his eyes again until he saw black spots in the center of his vision. Still, the image of the large man in the center of the room remained.

Finn whispered, “Not another nightmare. I can’t take much more of this!”

Leikny sighed and said, “I’m afraid this one is real. I guess it’ll be nice to go by ‘Loki’ again. It’s been a little while.”

Finn just stared at the giant sitting in the middle of the room, unable to speak.

Loki sighed, “I told you you’d be better off sitting down. It’s kind of a major deal to suddenly realize you’re married to a god.”

Finn yelled, “KIND OF A MAJOR DEAL? YOU JUST SHOWED THAT YOU AREN’T REALLY A WOMAN, AND, YOU’RE A GIANT! LISTEN TO ME, I’M LOSING MY MIND!”

Loki laughed, “And a god. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s all true.”

Finn turned away, “I don’t believe it. I won’t!”

Loki sighed, “Okay, try to ignore me, but I’m just going to sit here until you accept me. I know you’re stubborn, but I have a feeling I know who’s going to cave first.”

At the word, “cave” Finn paused and frowned, remembering a giant wolf’s mouth that looked like a cave.

He asked, “And, I suppose you’re going to tell me the other children you had were a giant snake and a giant wolf?”

Loki nodded, “Ah, so they weren’t normal nightmares. Yes, those are two of my children, my son Jormungandr, the Midgard Serpent, and Fenrir, the Wolf. I see they’ve been contacting you--probably curious about their brother.”

Finn laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all, then quickly walked away, trying to convince himself he was asleep. Still, as Finn paced back and forth around the house, every time he left the living room he would look back--but the giant was still there. He wanted to find Leikny and ask her if she saw it, but she was nowhere to be found.

In the back of his mind Finn was thinking, “Well, of course she isn’t. She’s in there, sitting in the middle of the floor!”

Finn picked up the phone. He felt like he had to prove he wasn’t crazy. He called his friend, John, from work.

Waiting for John to get there was the worst part.

Loki sighed, “This isn’t going to work. All it will do is make you feel worse.”

Finn whispered, “I just need to talk this out with another human.”

Loki shrugged, “Well, I’ll be here when you decide to talk it out with me.”
There was a knock at the door.

John said as Finn opened it, “Well, I’m here. What’s the hurry? You sounded like it was an emergency over the phone.”

Finn looked behind him. Loki waved from his spot in the middle of the floor.

Finn had a desperate look on his face as he asked, “So, you do see him right?”

John walked around the room, “See what?”

Finn pointed directly at Loki, “Does anything look different to you?”

John shrugged, “You cleaned up? You painted the room? What am I supposed to see?”

Finn went pale, “Nothing . . . nothing at all.”

John groaned, “Finn, I thought you said this was important. I have work to do at my own house. Is there something you needed to tell me?”

Finn nodded, “I’m not feeling well. I probably won’t be in the office for another few days.”

John nodded, “You could’ve told me that over the phone.”

Finn said, “Well, I’ve been taking time off lately, so I wanted you to see me for yourself, so you can tell my boss what’s going on. I must look like a nervous wreck.”

John said, “You really don’t look so good. I know you’ve been stressed out over your new baby and everything. I’m sure the boss will understand.”

Finn nodded but didn’t say anything.

John broke the awkward silence, “Well, thanks for inviting me, but I really should be getting back.”

As soon as John pulled out of the driveway Finn shouted to Loki, “Why the HELL couldn’t he see you?”

Loki shrugged, “He’s a normal human. Normal humans wouldn’t look for me even if they knew I was in here. They don’t want to see the invisible, so they don’t. That’s one of the ways their small minds protect them. That’s how I know you’re more open-minded. You’re still talking to me.”

Finn snapped, “You want to talk? Well, I’ll talk to you. I want to know where you get the nerve to do this. You married me as a woman! You used me! I was going to share my life with you, and if you are really a god, sharing my life is like sharing a one night stand. It was more important to me!”

Loki said, “You’re looking at it the wrong way. You shared your life with a god. You helped make a half-divine child. Most humans don’t get that privilege.”

Finn walked away and lay down on his bed, thinking, “All I wanted was a normal girl and to have a normal family. I never asked for any of this. I guess I should’ve known better--she was too pretty, too perfect . . . I’ll bet I was so easy for him to read. I don’t know what I should be angrier about, that he’s a god or that he’s a man. I guess now I know how those one night stands I had in college felt afterwards to the girls, only this is much, much worse.”

Finn got up and went to the computer, looking up Norse mythology. He felt ill as he read about Loki and his children. It all seemed to fit, but then he read about Loci’s fate before the end of the world and smiled. Small though it was, it was ammunition, something to prove that Loci couldn’t be real.

Finn walked back into the room, a smug look growing on his face.

He stared the giant in the face and said, “Okay, Loki. If you’re really who you say you are, then I have a question for you.”

Loki nodded, “Okay, ask away.”

Finn said, “How are you here? You’re supposed to be imprisoned.”

Loki frowned, “What do you mean? Those idiot gods can’t imprison me. I’m way too
smart for that. Every time I do get into trouble I bribe them, and I get away with murder.”

Finn shook his head, “No, not quite. You were supposed to be imprisoned and tortured after you tricked Baldr’s brother into killing him.”

Loki’s expression became excited, “That’s not possible. Baldr can’t be killed. Every element, every plant, every animal promised they would not harm him.”

Finn grinned, “All but one, and when you found out, you tricked his brother into throwing it at him, and he died. Then, the gods killed your other two sons, bound you to a rock with one of their entrails, and dripped snake venom into your eyes.”

Loki’s face became fierce. Suddenly Finn wished he hadn’t told him.

Loki said in a voice that boomed like thunder, “Where did you hear this?”

Finn stammered, “It’s all part of the stories! The Norse mythology! The…the…the stories are about all of you. I looked them up.”

Loki’s expression became calm, “You mean the prophecies? I never thought they would mention me. I was never worshipped like the others. Interesting, so the prophecies speak of me as well?”

Finn nodded.

Loki said, “Show them to me. I want to read this for myself.”

Loci changed back to human size, and read the websites for a very long time. It was good to know that he was as bad with computers as he said, one of the few things he hadn’t lied about. Finn waited nervously in the living room, hoping that Loki wouldn’t take his anger out on him.

Loki came out of the room, with a shocked expression on his face, “I can’t believe it. They will dare to imprison me? It will be their downfall!”

Finn shrugged, “I thought you knew. It said that all the others knew what their fates would be.”

Loki shook his head, “I never cared enough about it to think of it before. Now that I know, I won’t let them!”

Finn shrugged, “Well, you did kill someone.”

Loki laughed, “Please! The gods are losers! I’ve wanted to throw something at Baldr that would hurt him for ages. They’ve made a game out of throwing things at him because they don’t hurt him, and they never get tired of it. And you wonder why I come to earth looking for a diversion every now and again?”

Finn sighed, “Well, leave me out of this. Haven’t you done enough to ruin my life?”

Loki sighed, “I have been unfair to you. You’ve been a good husband. There is much to do in Asgard. I have to return. I will get my vengeance.”

Finn said, “Fine. Take Burr with you then.”

Loki shook his head, “No. Burr will stay with you. The gods will probably imprison him as they have my other sons.”

Finn shouted, “You expect me to take care of a baby giant?”

Loki grinned, “Well, he’s a shape-shifter, too. What I was trying to do when I held him upside down was get his muscles to adjust. I know he can. So, he might not stay in giant form forever.”

Finn suddenly didn’t want Loci to leave, “Wait! Please, don’t leave me with Burr! He really was walking on the ceiling, wasn’t he?”

Loki nodded, “Yes. I’m sorry that I called you a liar. I just wanted you to know how it felt. He was crawling on the ceiling most of the night. I didn’t think you would wake up in time to see it.”

Finn shook his head, “I can’t take care of him! I,fine, I’ll say it; I’m scared of him, okay?”

Loki laughed, “I know. It’s quite funny. Your cowardice is one of the reasons I was attracted to you. It reminded me of myself. Don’t worry though. Burr likes you. He’ll be good. At least I didn’t leave you to raise Fenrir. Fenrir would’ve eaten you. And don’t worry. You won’t have to raise him for long. He’s the son of a god. He’ll grow very quickly.”

Finn felt as though his mouth was sewn shut. He couldn’t say a word.

Loci looked like he was about to walk out the door but then turned, “And, since you’ve been such a good diversion for me, I’ll give you a gift--the gift of second sight and second hearing. That way, even when I’m not here, when you look at your world, you’ll see me in it. Perhaps one day I’ll return and check up on you as well.”

Finn shouted, “Wait, Loki!”

Loki turned and Finn punched him as hard as he could in the face--Loki’s jaw barely moved.

Loki shrugged, “What was that for?”

Finn balled his fists up and said, “What do you think? For lying to me for years! You were a woman before, but I can hit you now.”

Loki threw back his head and laughed, “Maybe I was wrong about you, Finn. You can’t be a coward to punch a god in the face. I won’t return the favor though--it would break your neck.”

Loci put a necklace around his neck then suddenly sprouted black feathers all over his body. Then, the raven turned its head, and squawked, “Farewell,” and flew away.

#

Finn stared at the open door for a very long time. The baby began to cry, as though it knew its mother was gone. Finn looked in the nursery, half expecting to see some sort of snake or wolf, but it was just his baby, crying and hungry. Finn felt ashamed, suddenly not afraid of Burr at all. He was just a normal baby who had just lost his mother and didn’t even know it. Finn picked Burr up and rocked him until he stopped crying and then fed him a bottle of formula. He felt totally drained and soon found himself falling asleep in a chair in the living room.

Finn woke up from a pleasantly dreamless sleep.

He smiled, thinking, “It really was all a dream. But why would I imagine something like that, and if that’s the case where’s Leikny?”

Finn sat quietly and thought about it for a long time until he had convinced himself that Leikny must’ve really left him, and that was the thing she was keeping from him. The more he thought about it, the more he began to think that he had fallen asleep in the chair and dreamed up everything that happened. He even began to laugh at how foolish the dream had been.

He grinned and said aloud, “My wife, a man, and a god at that. I have a very strange imagination.”

Finn turned on the news and suddenly felt his throat go dry with shock. At first he thought he was watching a monster movie, as he saw a giant serpent writhing around in the background of disastrous scene, like a tornado reaching towards the heavens but not quite touching them. Then, he heard the familiar voice of the news reporter and realized the footage was from a tidal wave in India, and the snake was creating it.

The voice of Loki seemed to echo in his mind, “I’ll give you a gift--the gift of second sight and second hearing.”

Finn turned off the television.

Finn walked into the nursery and began to talk to Burr, “It looks like that really happened, and that makes you the baby of a god. I’m not cut out for this, Burr! How can I take care of you?”

Burr didn’t answer, but Finn noticed the baby’s eyes looked like they were changing color. Finn shivered and walked out of the room, suddenly wanting to sleep once again.

Finn lay awake in his bed for a very long time with his window open, staring at the moon and trying to enjoy the night breeze. Still, the thought of Loki as a raven flying in made him feel like closing it.

Finn muttered, “No. I’m not a coward. I’m definitely not scared of him.”

A man’s voice seemed to echo in his mind, “That’s good to hear.”

Finn jumped up, “Who said that? Now what?”

The voice said, “Look at the moon.”

Finn did, and he was sure he saw a muscular man staring back at him set against the glowing white of a full moon, “I am Mani, god of the moon. I have a message for you from Odin himself.”

Finn sighed, “Oh, no more of this, please!”

Mani frowned, “It’s no wonder none of you modern humans reach Valhalla anymore. You whine far too much.”

Finn sighed, “You said you had a message for me?”

Mani continued, “You have altered fate by telling Loci of the prophecies. Even with all of his excursions to earth, the secrets we’ve kept from him for thousands of years have finally been revealed to him--all because you thought you were being clever.”

Finn yelled, “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW? I THOUGHT HE ALREADY KNEW ANYWAY!”

Mani said, “Ignorance isn’t an excuse. What’s done is done, and it’s your fault. You’ve altered fate, so now you have no choice but to become a part of it. You also produced a child with Loki, which could affect the outcome of Ragnorak as well. As things stand, most humans during this time period go to live in the realm of Loki's daughter, Hel, but you may be in store for something much worse.”

Finn was shaking with rage, “What do you want me to do? And what the hell is Ragnorak?”

Mani said, “Ragnorak is the end of the world, during which Loki plays an important role. While we all grieve for the fate of Baldr, he will be reborn during Ragnorak and Loki will break free from his imprisonment, and then try to take revenge on the gods for his punishment. However, after finding out about his punishment, Loki is too cowardly to go through with killing Baldr.”

Finn sighed, “Won’t that help you? From what I read, the gods are going to lose the battle when the world ends. If Loki decides not to kill Baldr, then he might even be on your side.”

Mani said, “Everyone and everything is subject to fate, even the gods. It’s foolish to try to change fate. Nothing good can come of it. If Loki doesn’t kill Baldr, your world might end far sooner than you would like--maybe even during your lifetime. Loki wants revenge now, even though he hasn’t even been punished.”

Finn said, “But, what can I do?”

Mani said, “Loki gave you an important power. You can see and hear the gods now, and Loki said he would check up on you. Find out what he’s planning. Talk to whatever gods you see. And, if his other children contact you, find out what they know.”

Finn shook his head, “Do you really think I can do anything to help?”

Mani said, “Odin does, and that’s all that matters. And, if Loki does contact you, don’t tell him any more of the prophecies! Your destiny is now intermixed with us all.”

Finn said, “Fine.”

Mani continued, “And who knows, if Loki values his time with you, you may even be able to convince him to forget his foolish idea of escaping fate.”

Finn yawned and said, “Fine, I’ll try that too.”

Mani said in a worried voice, “I must now take my leave of you, Hati is closing in.”

Finn squinted in confusion. It looked as though a shooting star was coming towards the moon at first, but then he saw it was in the shape of a huge dark wolf. And, even though he knew it was impossible, the moon seemed to dodge out of the way just in time.

Everburn Sample

2010-06-08T09:40:00.000-07:00

Well, I've wanted to pick out a writing sample from the book I just completed and I think this one is it. Even though this comes much later in the book, this is what I consider the turning point of the story, where the characters finally start to figure out what Wildworth is up to and decide to put aside their differences to stand against him.

Basically, what's happened in the story so far, is the main character, Orel, has discovered that he isn't a human being, but a member of the Aves tribe. The Aves were group of human-like beings with large bird wings that possess the ability to communicate with the spirit world and summon nature spirits. Orel's wings were amputated as a child when he fell from the sky during a storm. He grew up thinking he was a normal human being.

When Wildworth, a railroad baron, buys the coal mine that his town depends on, Orel is blackmailed into working for him in Aston City with the deed to the mine. Orel's best friend, Mika, stows away with him and becomes a mechanic for Wildworth in the process. From the moment they began working for Wildworth, they know that something is wrong. The spirits that Orel summoned for him mysteriously disappear and no one knows why he has his Aves workers summon them in the first place. Orel's steam spirit, Arden believes that somehow Wildworth is using the the other spirits to make his "Everburn" fuel.

In this scene, Mika has just witnessed a very bad fight between Orel and one of the other Aves workers named Flynn. Flynn caused a fight between Mika and Orel the previous night by spreading gossip to Mika about Orel's relationship with one of the other Aves workers. Tension is very high between them anyway, so she leaves him to start her job early. In this scene, Mika finally sees the machine that makes the fuel for the first time, and realizes they have every reason to be suspicious of Wildworth's intentions.

Mika walked down the hall trying not to think about the fight, but images from it kept haunting her, flashing before her eyes as she headed towards the machine shop. She could still see the angry yet satisfied expression on Orel’s face as he punched Flynn in the eye, and the ashamed look that replaced it when he saw her watching them. His face was flicked with blood like freckles on the face of a young boy, and that only added to his childlike expression of being caught and ashamed. Both of the fighters appeared to be in bad shape, but she knew who started it from the moment she saw them.

Mika thought, “I started it. I never should’ve told Orel anything. He thought I left because of Flynn, so he took it out on him. This is my fault entirely, and somehow I’m going to make up for it.”

Mika quickly composed herself as she entered the mechanics’ workshop. The huge warehouse still caught her off guard. It was attached to the Wildworth building and was at least five stories high, but as tall as it was, it was only one floor. The ceiling rose up, like an airplane hanger, but there was a pulley system that would allow the ceiling of the building to open up as well.

“The Everest,” Wildworth’s private zeppelin, sat in the corner, like a large silver buzzard watching them work. Still, there was also more than enough room for the damaged boilers, Wildworth’s steam powered carriage, and even the caboose of Wildworth’s private train, which was waiting to be serviced. There was even a normal propeller powered blimp hanging off to the side on the ceiling called “The Edwin,” named after Jones’ first name.

Something about the drafty, leaky machine shop reminded her of a tomb. Her Father’s workshop always seemed warm and welcoming, despite his presence in it, but here she felt as though the machines themselves were watching, scrutinizing her every move with their clear glossy windows for eyes. The others in the shop seemed to notice it too and the other mechanics often laughed loudly at the most foolish of jokes, if nothing more than to cut through the eerie silence.

The atmosphere around her made Mika feel even worse, but it wouldn’t do for the others to see a vulnerable expression on her face. To gain their trust she was very careful to come across as “just another one of the guys.” So far, it seemed to be working. When she first came in, she was surprised to see that most of the men were human instead of Aves, and they greeted her with catcalls, but the moment she proved herself to be skillful and tough, they accepted her immediately. She was glad to see that she was actually more skilled than many of the men that Wildworth hired. The foreman seemed to know it as well.

He called to Mika, “Hey, Mika, I told you, only one hour for lunch…”

Mika said, “Sorry, Mr. Acres. There was a fight in the hallway, so I stopped to watch. Two Aves were beating the crap out of each other.”

Mr. Acres chuckled and said, “And I missed it? Too bad, that’s always quite a sight and it doesn’t happen very often. Plus, it's always fun to bet on the winner.”

Mika said, “I didn’t know they could move so fast, or hit so hard.”

Mr. Acres said, “Yeah, I certainly wouldn’t want to pick a fight with one.”

One of the few Aves mechanics laughed from the top of the zeppelin and yelled, “Yeah, normally you wouldn’t last a second, but I’ll bet if you hit one of us with that beer belly of yours, you might just win the fight. You do have a lot of weight to throw around…”

There was a roar of approval from the other mechanics.

Mr. Acres shouted, “Corbin, I asked you to check the lining of the zeppelin, not gab all day long.”

Corbin said, “Yeah, yeah.”

Mr. Acres said, “Well, I’m glad you’re here, Mika. Mr. Jones told me to pick a mechanic to work on the big machine, and today it’s you. Think of it as your initiation.”

There was something very solemn in his expression that Mika didn’t like.

She said, “The big machine? What’s that?”

Mr. Acres ran a dirty rag across his forehead and said, “It’s the most important machine in the building. It’s where Wildworth produces the Everburn fuel.”

Mika asked, “Oh, so will I get to see how the fuel is made?”

Mr. Acres said, “No, and don’t you ask about it either. Wildworth keeps that secret close to the chest, he does. Everyone here has worked on the machine before, but none of us know how he makes the stuff.”

Mika asked, “Then who makes the fuel?”

Mr. Acres whispered, “I hear Wildworth and Jones make it themselves.”

Mika said, “But Jones is a doctor and Wildworth doesn’t strike me as the type to know much about fuel…”

Mr. Acres said, “From what I know of Wildworth. I think he knows a little bit about everything.”

Mika said, “So what do we repair on the machine?”

Mr. Acres said, “The parts of the machine we work on are the manufacturing parts. Basically, there are several large metal tubs already filled with fuel and the liquid is pumped into storage barrels that run along a conveyor belt beneath it. There’s also another part of the machine that sprays the fuel onto pieces of coal. I’m not sure if it’s the sprayer that’s broken this time or the conveyor belt. Either way, it shouldn’t be hard for you to fix.”

Mika said, “Okay, then I’ll do my best.”

Mr. Acres said, “I know you will. That’s why I picked you. Jones will be along any minute to get you. Now, I want you to be on your best behavior. Don’t ask about how they make the fuel, don’t stare at things that don’t concern your job—get in, get out, no fucking about. Got it?”

Mika said, “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Mr. Acres mumbled, “Trust me, once you get in that place, you’ll want to get out as fast as you can…”

Mika was about to ask Mr. Acres what he meant when Jones came through the door.

He said, “Mrs. Mika, please follow me.”

Mika followed Jones back into the main building down the familiar hallways and stairwells. As they went, she noticed some of the Aves pointing at her and whispering. She didn’t have to hear them to know what they were whispering about. Now, instead of simply being the only human living among them, she was the girl that Orel had fought with Flynn over. The thought made her feel slightly ill. She wanted her own chance to prove herself to them, but it seemed that her worth was proven for her, and something about the thought didn’t sit well. It made her suddenly very glad that she wasn’t spending another night with Orel.

They turned to a door at the end of the hallway on the first floor. There were two guards with large guns standing in front of it. The guns immediately drew Mika’s eyes. Both guards had what looked like smaller versions of Gatling guns. The firing mechanism was clearly steam powered, as with most guns. It would unleash a full round of bullets with just a pull of the trigger. The young guard stroked his gun suggestively, causing Mika to blush and quickly look away. Jones took a small silver key from a chain around his neck and unlocked the door, revealing a long spiral stairwell that seemed to stretch two floors beneath them.

Jones answered her question before she could ask, “The basement has to be tall to accommodate the machine.”

Mika said, “So this building is more like twelve floors then.”

Jones said, “Thirteen if you count the clock tower.”

As soon as they reached the bottom floor, Mika stopped in her tracks. There were two more guards standing in front of the second door, but this set was wearing what appeared to be metal body armor. Still, from the wires running from one part of the armor to the next, and the metals springs and small pistons she could see, they were mechanized suits meant to enhance the wearer’s strength. There wore the same mini-Gatling guns attached to the armor of their right arms, while the left arm had what appeared to be a large metal gauntlet with a retractable blade built into it. She put her hands up in a helpless motion when they saw her, but Jones waved them away with a gesture.

Jones said, “You’ll have to excuse all of the security. As I’m sure Acres already told you, this is where we make our fuel and there are a lot of companies that would love to know exactly how we do it.”

He pulled the silver key from around his neck and paused before putting it in the lock.

Jones turned to Mika and said, “Before you go in, I need you to swear that you won’t tell a soul what you see in here—I mean that Mika, not a soul.”

Mika said, “From what I hear, I’m not going to see anything.”

Jones said, “Please, don’t make this difficult, Mika…”

Mika said, “I swear.”

Jones motioned to the guards and said, “Good, these men will hold you to that.”

The moment Mika entered the room, she felt as though she walked through a physical cobweb. Energy seemed to tingle through her body and it made her shudder. The temperature in the room was too cool, as though she had walked outside, and yet the room wasn’t drafty. It was entirely enclosed. Every strange feeling she had ever had in town when the spirits were nearby came back to her immediately in a rush that almost made her want to cry. The feeling also made her feel sick to her stomach. It halted her in her tracks and she felt herself rubbing her arms instinctively.

Mika looked around, wary. She felt as though she was being watched, but there was no movement in the corner of her eyes, and the silence was oppressive. The silence, however, wasn’t the only thing that felt oppressive. It was as though the very air around her was heavy, pushing down on her shoulders. The high ceiling was dizzying, and the only thing that kept her on her feet was the unreal sight in front of her.

The machine took up the entire room. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed radiate an ominous feeling. She wondered if it was haunted, but something about the machine seemed too still and silent for even that. It was as though it sucked away any life and sound, and that everything about it was dead. At one time, the pipes were probably copper, but now they were a corroded green and brown color that surprised her. The machine looked ancient, but from what the other mechanics said, Wildworth had only recently created his fuel. He was still testing the effects of it because his clients were complaining that the fuel was sometimes unstable.

She could see the general layout of the machine. The large basins that were bolted to the walls were what contained the fuel. One half of the machine was devoted to packaging smaller amounts of fuel into steel barrels for transport, while the other side had a hose for spraying fuel onto a conveyor belt of coal. The entire machine was automated. Steam boilers powered the pulleys and conveyor belts, and, there was a pipe to allow steam to escape that ran all the way to the roof as a smokestack. Still, she could see why Wildworth needed his mechanics. If there was ever a catastrophic failure, the entire machine would have to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Jones said, “I know. It’s quite a sight. You get used to it. What we need you to do is work on the spraying nozzle. It’s clogged up. Once you’re done with that, if you wouldn’t mind giving the whole machine a quick look over, I’d really appreciate it. I have a checklist that I usually have the foreman fill out, but if you think you can handle it, I’ll let you give it a try.”

Mika took the checklist absently and said, “Yes, of course.”

Mika tried to take in her surroundings as she walked towards the machine. It seemed there was an elevator leading from another part of the building to the basement floor because there was a small elevator behind her. Still, she knew she hadn’t seen an elevator anywhere else in the building. Then, she saw the outline on the floor. It almost blended into the dark bedrock of the ground, but it was definitely there. There was a pattern carved into the floor and it looked like the biggest summoning circle she had ever seen, circling all around the perimeter of the machine. Still, as she stared at the intricate patterns, she realized it wasn’t a summoning circle at all. She had never seen anything like it before, and she didn’t want to cross it.

Jones asked, “Is something wrong, Mrs. Mika?’

Mika said, “Orel always told me never to step across these lines.”

Jones said, “Not to worry. The circle isn’t active right now.”

Mika cast a furtive glance at Jones but then nodded and crossed the line. The moment she did, once again she got the strange feeling of crossing through an invisible barrier. She noticed her hair became charged with static, strands slowly lifting like puppets on transparent strings. The moment she touched the metal of the machine she got a nasty shock, but that wasn’t what made her gasp in surprise. There was something horrible about it, as though she heard a scream the moment the static charge hit her finger.

Mika thought, “Fast, work fast! I need to get out of here or I’ll lose my mind.”

Mika continued to glance at Jones as she started twisting the nozzle free of the spraying hose, but Jones wasn’t looking at her. He appeared to be glancing at the machine and running through his own personal check list. No, the feeling of being watched wasn’t coming from Jones. Instead, she thought that she knew where it was coming from, somewhere on the opposite wall with the fuel basins. Mika didn’t know why, but she felt like there was an invisible audience of people watching her, not only watching her, but wishing that she would see them.

Mika felt the nozzle come loose from the hose and began to poke around it with her fingers. She felt something smooth with ridges lodged in the nozzle, so she began prying at it with her tools. After a few minutes of fighting with it, she finally pulled the object out. She stared intently at it for a moment, not sure what she was looking at. It was a perfectly round ball of metal, like a ball for a musket, but there were lovely swirling patterns all over it. Someone clearly took time to make the markings, but how did it get in the machine? She examined the rest of the nozzle. There were also metal shavings that clearly came from the small metal ball.

Mika looked over at Jones. He was still glancing at the other side of the machine. Mika quickly put the small object in the pocket of her mechanic uniform and continued her work. There were more metal shavings inside of the tube and some very strange residue. For a moment, in the dim light, she thought the residue glowed green on her fingertips, but then it seemed nothing more than nasty grime created by moldy water.

Jones asked, “Did you find the blockage?”

Mika said, “Yes, some odd metal shavings and some residue. I’m guessing they came from the inside of the basins, but I don’t know what could’ve caused them.”

Jones said, “Ah, we’ve had that sort of thing happen before. I’ll check on it personally later. We’ll have a test of the nozzle and then you can get to the checklist.”

Mika said, “Thank you, Sir.”

Jones twisted a lever and steam billowed through the pipes, powering the machine. For a moment Mika forgot her fear, awestruck by the design. She had never seen a totally automated machine before. It was as though the parts of the machine had their own rhythm, twisting and pulling in time with one another. Still, suddenly she heard a shrill screeching sound, like the sound of an animal in pain, or a child crying. She put her hands over her ears.

Jones shouted, “That sound is one of the traits of Everburn fuel, kind of like a side effect of the process. Don’t worry about it.”

Mika nodded and hesitantly forced her hands away from her ears. Whether it was a natural sound or not, it sounded so much like a real scream it tugged on the empathetic parts of her mind, making her want to do anything to stop it. She followed the path of the steam with her mind, noticing a release valve on one of the large tubs of fuel in front of her. The valve rotated just enough for a hose full of fuel and then closed back up, awaiting the next burst of steam for the next rotation. The nozzle lifted up with the pressure of the fuel behind it, and began spraying a small stack of coal, lashing back and forth like the tail of a hungry lion.

Jones said, “Excellent work, Mika. Now, while the machine is running, please complete your checklist.”

Mika went through the checklist, trying to imagine herself as a part of the machine, trying desperately to separate her conflicting emotions from her professional attitude. She still felt dizzy and slightly nauseated, and something about the entire process made her feel dirty. She couldn’t place anything wrong with the machine or the fuel itself, but there was definitely something wrong with that summoning circle.

Mika thought, “Prematurely corroded pipes, check, and elaborate cable pulley system, check. There’s a loose portion on the conveyor belt where one of the barrels might eventually tip over if not straightened out—I’d better write that one down, but God please don’t let me have to fix it…”

Mika didn’t even notice Jones was looking over her shoulder. His voice made her jump.

Jones said, “You noticed the loose conveyor belt. I’m impressed. You’ve already written a very thorough report, and you’ve had one of the fastest times fixing the machine. I think we’ve found our new machine mechanic.”

Mika said, “Oh, not me. I’m not nearly as experienced as some of the others.”

Jones said, “Don’t be so modest. This is the highest paying job in the entire facility, and I think you’re the right one for it.”

Mika thought, “I can’t say yes, there’s no way I could do this almost every day. But, if I say no, Jones will be suspicious, and I already owe him my life for taking care of my wounds and for allowing me to stay here…”

Mika said, “I don’t know how to explain it, Mr. Jones, but this floor really unnerves me. Ever since I came down here, I feel very out of my element.”

Jones said, “I thought you might. I felt that way the first time I came down here as well.”

Mika asked, “Really?”

Jones said, “It might be the fumes from the fuel, or just the fact we’re so far below ground, but it makes you feel trapped and nervous. Don’t worry. Those feelings eventually pass. I’ll understand if you don’t like the responsibility of being the primary mechanic of this machine, but please, don’t pass up a good opportunity just because you have goose bumps.”

Mika chuckled. She could tell it was a nervous chuckle, but Jones seemed to think it was legitimate.

Mika said, “I wouldn’t pass up such a good opportunity because of that. I just, well, it’s like you said, that’s a lot of responsibility, and I just started working here.”

Jones said, “That’s true, you did only just start working last night—and, goodness, it’s already three o’clock. You must be exhausted, especially with your injuries. Why don’t you take tomorrow off and maybe the next day? That way, you can take your time making the decision, and I’ll be sure that a nice hot meal is sent to your room tonight.”

Mika said, “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”

Mr. Jones said, “No, thank you. And, take care, but remember your promise.”

Mika said, “I will. Mr. Jones, may I please leave the facility to buy some supplies?”

Mr. Jones sighed and said, “I’m sorry, Mika. The rules specifically state that none of our workers can leave the building. The rule is mostly just to keep people from knowing about the amount of Aves working here, but I can’t make any exceptions.”

Mika tried not to show the disappointment she felt on her face. She needed an escape, anything to forget about the terrible machine. Then, it came to her. There was a way that she could apologize to Flynn and Orel, and a way for her to forget her problems at the same time.

Mika asked, “Then, will you please do something for me?”

Mr. Jones said, “Anything. What do you need?”

Mika said, “I want a sketchpad and some charcoal pencils. I’d also like a bottle of the best vintage wine that my wages can buy and a bottle of the best whiskey I can buy…”

Mr. Jones pulled out a notepad and Mika waited until he finished writing to continue.

“A cube of lightweight wood good for carving and a knife for whittling. Also, a set of small watchmaker’s tools, normal tools, and gears and springs of varying sizes for watches. Oh yes, and some paint of varying colors, the faster it dries, the better.”

Mr. Jones said, “Your wages should cover most of it, though probably not the watchmaking tools. Still, I’m sure I can work out a payment schedule and go ahead and purchase them, but may I ask why?”

Mika said, “My favorite hobby back home was to make mechanical toys. The wood is for the body of the toy, and the gears and springs are for the interior to make it move. I can craft metal toys too, but I don’t think I have the money to buy the kind of tools I would need for that. The watch tools and regular tools are for putting it together, the paints are to decorate it, and the two bottles of liquor are gifts. The sketchpad is one of the few things I left behind that I’m wishing I took with me.”

Mr. Jones said, “They’ll be delivered with your meal tonight. For now, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Mika left the room, she desperately fought off the urge to run. She could still hear the sound of gears and pulleys grinding and thumping behind her. She had never noticed the sound before, but now that she had heard it, she could hear it in the very floor beneath her feet. Still, the worst sound by far was the sound of the Everburn fuel itself, screeching like a person in pain, screaming for anyone to help. The sound wasn’t natural, not natural at all. As soon as she reached the deserted Aves hallways, she burst into tears and began to run for her room.

What's Happening...

2010-06-04T13:38:00.000-07:00

Well, this is just going to be a short entry. There isn't much to say about this week. I finished "Fool Moon," Book 2 of the Dresden Files. It was very good and, like I said, I'll write a review of the series once I finish. From what I understand the books keep getting better and better, and so far I really enjoyed the first two, so I'm looking forward to the others.

Tomorrow, we're going to Spartanburg to do a little ghost hunting. I'm excited about it. Hopefully we'll have more luck than usual, but even if not, it should be fun. We're checking out an eerie old cemetery and possibly one or two other places while we're there. We're borrowing an infrared camera this time, so at least we have better equipment than usual. Wish us luck.

As for the writing, I still am brainstorming about a horror novel. I'm trying not to stress over it. The idea will eventually come to me.

It is Finished...

2010-05-25T10:35:00.000-07:00

This is just a short blog entry to let you know that "Everburn" is finished.

While I really enjoyed writing this story, I got snagged on the ending for a little while. By the time I finished entirely, I was getting a little tired of my setting. I always have this problem. Even though I love Steampunk, after writing a full book in the genre, I need a little break. So, long story short I'm taking a little break from writing this week, proofing the book next week, then having my husband read it for content afterward. And now, it's time to change genres. (I say this in the Mad Hatter voice, like changing seats at the tea party.) Even though I do fully intend to make this book into a trilogy, and have the notes to start the second book, I just really need a break. I love Steampunk too much to burn myself out on it.

I think, for the next novel, I'm going back to horror. I've written many horror stories and they are really what I consider myself best at writing. Still, I've never been able to come up with a concept for a book. (I do have a Lovecraftian novel that's almost finished, but right now I'm referring to traditional horror.) Most of my horror stories are pretty long. I think the longest one was about thirty pages, but I've never tried to write that style of novel. It should be a challenge, and I like challenges.

So, I'll keep you posted on how it's going. I might even add a writing sample from it later, and possibly a sneak peak at Everburn after I'm done proofing. In the meantime, keep reading and writing. And, based on what I've read of the first and second book, I highly recommend "The Dresden Files." (I'll try to write a review of that later.)

Curse of the Eight Ball...

2010-05-18T12:07:00.001-07:00

This is just an update of what's been going on lately.

In writing news, I'm very very close to being finished with my "Everburn" book. I'm probably two short chapters from the end, but unfortunately I've run into some unexpected writer's block. I really should have learned this was coming by now, but for some reason it still takes me by surprise.

Basically, a good analogy of what I'm going through usually happens to me when I'm playing a good game of pool. I could be running the table for the entire game, but when I get to the eight ball, inevitably I'll either scratch or call the wrong pocket. When I get to the end of a book, unfortunately sometimes my writing style starts to go downhill. It's like I feel the pressure to finish but for some reason I can't get myself to do it. Eventually I'll work my way through it and come up with something good, but for now I've hit that point again where I'm not "feeling it." I'm hoping to finish my book by the end of the week, but I'm not going to force it. Still, I think I'll feel much happier when I do.

When I finish the book, I decided that I'm going to take a week or two off of writing to relax and brainstorm. I'm trying to decide if I want to work on the next book of this series or start on something totally new. Normally, I would continue with the series, but, the problem is, I don't want to burn myself out on the steampunk genre. I like it too much to do that. So, I'm thinking of maybe turning my attentions back to the horror genre for a little while. I've always had trouble coming up with a novel length horror story, but from what I understand, my short horror stories are usually stellar. (My very first attempt at a horror story to submit to an anthology was accepted right away.)

Speaking of horror stories (and that one specifically), "Courting Morpheus" is finally finished. I got my first copy of it in the mail about a week ago. I have to admit, I'm glad to finally see that it came to fruition, and it looks pretty darn good. "Hemophobia" is the first story that I wrote specifically to submit to an anthology. That was nearly four years ago, so seeing it in print is kind of like seeing an old friend again, dressed for success. I've read most of the stories in "Courting Morpheus" already and enjoyed them. Please, show your support and pick up a copy. It's worth it.

Anyway, that's what's been going on right now. I guess it's back into the fray. I've got a book ending to try to write, chores to do, and a party to plan for my husband.

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West

2010-05-18T06:59:00.000-07:00

Last week I just finished reading "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West" by Gregory Maguire. I've been curious about this book for a long time, mostly because fairy tales and different takes on classic fairy tales interest me. And, even though the Wizard of Oz probably isn't classified as a fairy tale per se, it fits close enough to captivate my attention. Also, I heard good things about the musical "Wicked" so I wanted to see what the book was about.

What to say about this book...interesting. Yes, interesting is the best word I can use to describe it. I can't say it was exciting. In fact, I'd probably say it was pretty dull for the most part. The most exciting part of the story is at the beginning when Melena is giving birth to her baby, Elphaba, who will one day be the Wicked Witch of the West. The beginning was intriguing because of the mysterious nature of the Witch's birth.

The Munchkinlanders are being led astray from their unionist religion and their moral standards by a large clockwork magical device called "The Clock of the Time Dragon." Frex, Melena's husband and the preacher of the town, goes to try to lead the Muchkins away from the device. Through a perverse puppet show, Frex is made to seem like a corrupt religious leader and the people of the town turn against him. He manages to escape by the kindness of a widow, but that leads the villagers towards his home where his wife is trying to deliver her child. His wife is taken away from the home into the nearby cemetery, and actually gives birth inside of the Clock of the Time Dragon that was being hidden there. As though by a curse, her baby is born green with sharp teeth like those of a shark. Melena eventually finds solace in an affair with a Quadling (another race of people in Oz), and later gives birth to another girl who has no arms with normal skin, named Nessarose, and a boy named Shell.

Most of the book takes place in Shiz University, where Elphaba meets Glinda and they form a friendship. However, I thought from the cover of the book and from some of the scenes I saw from that musical that they were supposed to be best friends. Perhaps they were, but if so, the book didn't convey it very well. Glinda seems mostly ashamed to be around her through most of the book and doesn't seem to take up the mantle of the things that are important to Elphaba. They are friends, but don't seem close. Elphaba spends a great deal of time advocating rights for talking animals (known as Animals with a capital A). The Wizard of Oz is taking rights away from the Animals, little by little, and eventually has them shipped off to farms to live like normal animals for the rest of their lives. Meanwhile, Glinda is learning sorcery and hanging out with the social elite of the school.

In this book the "Wicked Witch of the East (Nessarose)" and the "Wicked Witch of the West" are not evil at all. They never became evil and the harsh way that Elphaba treats Dorothy at the end seems uncharacteristic of her. The Wizard in this book mirrors the worst dictators in history and is the only real villain. I think at the very end of the book, he's also supposed to be a bit of a sympathetic character because you get to see glimpses of his harsh past, but he's been so cruel and ruthless throughout the whole book there's no way to paint him in a rose tinted light enough to even redeem him slightly.

I've read the Wizard of Oz as a child, but I haven't read many of Frank Baum's other works on Oz. I think for a fair review of how to compare and contrast this book to them I would need to do a bit more research. Still, I do know some things were changed to make this book a reality. So, I'll just say, in conclusion, this was a very odd book and, while I'm glad that I satiated my curiosity about it, I'm ready to move on to "The Dresden Files." If you enjoyed The Wizard of Oz, or other books that depict Oz, then you would probably enjoy this as a different take on the story. Still, you might be a bit disappointed by the necessary changes that had to be made to the storyline to create it. Overall, I did enjoy the book, but it is very odd and a little slow.

The Stand (Complete and Uncut)

2010-05-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

Well, after over three weeks of reading, I'm finally finished with "The Stand." This is the complete and uncut version, and the book is basically three books rolled into one. It was one thousand, one hundred, and forty-one pages long. I have to admit, this book definitely felt like an epic adventure (it would have to for me to spend nearly a month reading it).

First of all, let me begin this entry by saying I don't typically like post apocalyptic stories. But, since I'm trying to read almost all of Stephen King's novels, particularly stories that are related to "The Dark Tower" series, I decided I needed to read this one as well. I bought the book when I was in high school and never got around to reading it, mostly due to it's length. I definitely feel a sense of accomplishment that I finished this book despite my preconceived ideas about post apocalyptic fiction, and I did mostly enjoy it.

For those of you who don't know, "The Stand" is about the aftermath of a biologically engineered plague from the United States, a very horrible mutating version of the flu. By a freak accident, this biological weapon is set loose on the world, starting with the US. The first book introduces us to the main characters (a small group of people whose later actions will ensure the survival or the downfall of society), and the immediate aftermath of what's going on; the chaos, the gore, the lawlessness, and the eerie quiet caused by most of the population dying.

The second book is about the journey of these people. They start having strange dreams about a kind old woman called Mother Abigail that is telling them to come and meet her first in Nebraska and later in Boulder, Colorado, and a terrifying man, Randall Flagg, who causes them nightmares and is clearly starting a settlement in the West at what remains of Las Vegas. All of the survivors of the plague are drawn to either Mother Abigail or Randall Flagg depending on what they value. Most of the survivors form a large settlement in Boulder, Colorado, while, meanwhile, most of those drawn to Randall Flagg are collecting weapons to unleash on Mother Abigail's settlement to kill off the survivors.

The third book is about the four main characters compelled by fate to meet Flagg head on, to make a stand against him.

As you can see, I tried very hard not to leave any spoilers in my plot summary, though, I did spoil the fact that Randall Flagg is involved. My apologies, but that seemed important and it is a, 'Oh wow!' moment to figure out that he's such an integral character in the plot. Truthfully, though, I didn't really get into the book until about book two when he first emerged, so I'm hoping this ahead of time knowledge will get you to read it as well. I also tried to be as brief as possible. I could go into the lives of each and every character, but that would take far longer than you'd care to read. (There are at least twenty one important characters in this book, also several less important characters as well.) The point is, I don't feel I need to do that to tell you the pluses and minuses of this book.

One of the best things about this book was each of the characters changed throughout the story. Some of the main characters weren't very likable when they started out, but got much better as the book progressed. Likewise, some of the "bad guys" in the story were sympathetic characters by the end of the book. Also, some likable characters in the beginning eventually became less sympathetic. One of Stephen King's strong points is the way he creates believable, dynamic, characters. And, once again, he didn't disappoint about that aspect in this book.

One of the things I didn't like about the story, however, was that it did drag on too long. Even though I understand why he put so much detail into the story's setting, obviously to paint a picture of a post-apocalyptic world, it actually bored me. There was one chapter about people who randomly died after the plague (things like accidentally shooting themselves, a child falling down a well, etc.). And, while again I understand the reasoning behind the chapter (this was to show that the plague wasn't the only thing that killed people and there was a great deal of random death afterward), I nearly put the book down at that point. The book was so depressing as it was that hearing about more random death didn't do anything for me and I became bored with the concept, sort of like a person turning off the news when they hear nothing but bad news for too long.

Still, I don't attribute the fact that I was reading the uncut version to why the story felt like it was droning on. I think it was just the way it was written. There was just too much detail. After you see one highway clogged with cars that have become coffins for the dead passengers inside of them, you feel like you've seen them all--wow, that's a strange concept, but true. He describes many scenes that just seem the exact same as the scene before it. The eeriness of going through a totally dark tunnel is explored in one particular scene early in the book, so when this happens again, I don't need a recap. It was things like that that made the book seem longer than it actually was.

The last complaint I have is a minor one. My favorite character died like a chump (in other words, in a quick and pointless way) at least three hundred pages from the end. I won't spoil anything by telling you who, but I will say most of the main characters do die by the end of this book. In fact, I was disappointed by the ones who survived because oddly, most of them were my least favorite. There was one that was one of my favorites that survived too, but when you're attached to four or five characters, and all of them but one die, it's kind of a downer. It also makes the rest of the book seem slow because you don't care as much about the characters that made it. I'm just telling you so that you are prepared when you read it, for the sacrifices at the end.

Other than that, this was a very good book. Like I said, since I don't like post-apocalyptic fiction typically, you know it has to be good to keep my attention to the end. By the end of this book I felt like I had walked in the character's shoes and knew all of the characters very well. This was probably the most satisfying story that I've ever read because almost all of the loose ends were tied up and it didn't leave me wondering much, and it was so long that finishing it felt literally like finishing a journey, which is very appropriate for this story.

Still, the story does end on a huge down note, since (and I'm not spoiling anything by saying this if you are a Stephen King fan) Randall Flagg survives. Also, I hated the last line about "Do you think...do you think people ever learn anything," when the remaining character is asking if people will basically learn not to pollute the earth again since the earth is "recovering" from mankind's influence. It was so environmentally PC that it made me throw up in my mouth a little. Plus, the line came out of nowhere to me because the book mostly up until this point seemed to be about people killing other people, rather than the impact of man on the environment. But still, like I said, this is a good book and if you've got the time, you should read it. It starts out a little slow, but by the end you won't be able to put it down.

How to Train Your Dragon

2010-05-04T12:26:00.000-07:00

Sorry this review is so late. I'm trying to keep up with this blog, but there's a lot to do.

I've got to say this movie took me by surprise. I heard it was good from some of my friends, but the hype made me doubt that it would be good at all. I've noticed a trend with movies lately; usually whenever a movie is the subject of many commercials, McDonald's happy meals, special offers, and Superbowl advertisements, it always leaves something to be desired. I'm pleased to say that this movie breaks that rule.

"How to Train Your Dragon" is about a young Viking named "Hiccup" who has always wanted to slay a dragon. Still, unlike the other Vikings, he's small and scrawny and whenever he tries to fight dragons, he fails miserably and it ends in disaster. His Father, is the leader of the clan and the two of them have very little in common. Then, one day, Hiccup manages to wound the most dangerous of all dragons, a Nightfury, and when he tracks it down, he finds he can't kill it. Instead he forges a strong friendship with the creature, learns to ride it, and it teaches him a great deal about all dragons. Once he realizes he doesn't want to slay dragons, his Father finally grants his original wish and makes him join the other Vikings his age to learn how to slay dragons. He uses what he's learned to "fake" his way through dragon training. Once his Father finds out, he uses the information to track down the dragon's nest. Hiccup and his friends must fight to save the dragons, the other Vikings, and stop the terrible creature that is about to be unleashed.

The humor in this movie is very good and some of it is geared towards gamers (which I liked very much). There were some scenes that actually made me laugh out loud, which was refreshing. The main character is sarcastic and smarmy, but he's also very likable. He's basically the underdog, and you really want him to succeed in what he wants to accomplish. There are many funny jokes that you might miss the first time around, such as the Viking that is missing an arm has a beer mug attachment and an ax attachment as well.

The dragons in the movie are very catlike. This seemed very appropriate because I've always thought if dragons didn't talk they would have more catlike features, being very aloof and a bit snobby. (Perhaps appraising you and finding you wanting, etc...) It's also funny because it makes the dragons slightly unpredictable, giving them attitude and personality, particularly "Toothless," Hiccup's dragon.

The special effects in this movie are very good. I like the textures on the dragons' scales. You can almost imagine what they would feel like. The animation is caricature with enough realism to lose yourself in the movie. Basically the animation was very cool.

I'm trying to think of complaints for this movie, but I really don't have any. I am kind of biased because I've always loved dragons and have always thought Vikings were cool so the thought of Vikings riding dragons warms my heart. It would be a concept worthy of an RPG. Who knows, maybe someone will run a game like that one day. Anyway, I enjoyed the movie and I highly suggest you see it. It may be too late for some theaters, but even if it is, at least rent it. It's definitely worth watching.

Eventful Two Weeks...

2010-04-22T07:18:00.000-07:00

I know, I need to keep up with this blog once a week, but the last two weeks have been very eventful.

First of all, the reunion was much better than I envisioned. I saw some old friends that I really didn't expect to see there, some of which live several states away. Everyone was friendly, even the people I didn't really hang out with in high school, and the food, drinks, and reception were very nice. About sixty people came, and when you're from a very small private school, that's actually a pretty good turn out. It did make me slightly nostalgic for "the old days" but like I said before, I'm happy with how things are turning out now. I wouldn't really want to go back to high school, but it did make me wish I had been just a little more outgoing during my time there so that I could have gotten to know everyone a little better. I'm not sure what I was expecting from the ten year reunion, but I didn't expect to have a great time. So, long story short, I was pleasantly surprised when I had so much fun that I stayed up until nearly one or two in the morning, talking, drinking, and reminiscing about old times with old friends. It actually makes me look forward to the next one, but no telling what will have happened by then. I'm hoping at least to have my first novel published, but we'll see. Still, I guessing after another ten years, I'll also have a child so many things will have changed.

Shortly after the reunion, I went on a beach trip to celebrate my five year anniversary with my husband. That is one of the best vacations I've had in a long time. We spent the first night celebrating alone, going to Carrabba's, watching a squishy romantic comedy, etc. The next day, one of our best friends came to visit and we spent the rest of the vacation together. The water was too cold for swimming, so we only visited the beach itself once or twice, walking on it at night mostly. We went shopping at Barefoot Landing and Broadway at the Beach, went to see, "How to Train Your Dragon" (I might write a review about that later), and went to Alligator Adventure. Still, of all things, some of the most fun we had was hanging around the house. We stayed up until about four in the morning playing Heroes V and drinking a little bit. During breaks in the game we watched at movies or read the books we brought with us. (I managed to nearly get to page five hundred in "The Stand" so I think I will be able to finish it before I start the Dresden Files. At least one of my friends promised to lend them to me now next time we see each other.)

The beach trip was so much fun that we might start planning more trips with friends for weekends. Just day trips or weekend trips that would be fun but wouldn't be too expensive. We were throwing around the idea of trying to get a group together to go ghost hunting in Charleston, something I've wanted to do for over a year. I'm hoping we'll be able to pull it off.

Speaking of other trips, I'm still hoping to go to Disney World and Universal in October. The problem is, we want to try to pay off as much debt as possible first. Still, we're on our way. We refinanced the mortgage so that we have a much lower payment each month and with the money we saved we'll be paying off credit cards. I wish there was something I could do to help, but I don't have the graphic design skills anymore to allow me to get another graphic design job, and jobs in general are very hard to find right now. Plus, me getting a job means we definitely won't be going on the trip and I think Joel wants to go as well. (I'd do something like waitressing, but I think given how clumsy I am and how bad my memory is, that would be a bad idea. I've looked for secretarial work but most of that is taken and temp agencies can't even find me a job, even though they said I was more qualified than most people they worked with...)

Still no word from T-shirt Hell, but I'm guessing they didn't like the ideas. I guess I'll keep submitting other ideas and working on my novels. One day I'll be able to make a career out of this. Even though I doubt it'll be a very lucrative career, just making a little money by doing something I love would be nice. It would make me feel like a professional to finally get paid with a professional rate. Who knows, maybe one day I'll even be able to join the Writer's Association.
I haven't written many short stories lately. I'm trying to finish working on "Everburn." I'm so close to the end I can taste it. (I didn't do much writing at the beach, but I did write a chapter or two.) I'm thinking three more weeks of writing at the maximum and I'll be finished. I'm excited about this one because I know it's better than my first trilogy. The character development is much better and the plot, to me, was more fun. Of course, I have been slightly obsessive over steampunk lately. When I finish this one, if I decide to "take a break" from steampunk fantasy, I might just pick up the regular steampunk story that I used as a writing sample here and expand it into a novella. That was, after all, my original plan before I picked up "Everburn" again.

Anyway, I guess that's about it. I'll keep you posted when I finish "Everburn" and I should be writing a review of "How to Train Your Dragon" soon, and eventually "The Stand" (if I ever finish reading it). Thanks for reading.

Posts of the Future...

2010-04-09T14:00:00.000-07:00

Well, here's a preview of posts to come.

For one thing, my high school ten year reunion is tomorrow. I have to admit, that ten years went by very quickly. I had hoped that my first novel would be published by now, but considering what a late start I got on my writing, I still think I'm doing pretty well. Still, it isn't sounding like there are going to be very many people at the reunion which is pretty disappointing. I'm really not sure what to expect, but I'm hoping there's at least one person there to talk to.

I'm still reading "The Stand." (This is the uncut version, so even though I'm on page three hundred and fifty, I'm not even close to the middle.) I like it so far, but I don't typically dig post apocalyptic settings. So, considering I like it enough to still be reading it, it's pretty good. I'll write a review on that when I finish. Some of my new friends promised to lend me a copy of "The Dresden Files" so I'll probably have to take a break from "The Stand" to read that if they get it to me before I finish. Wish me luck on finishing "The Stand" before that happens. (I hate putting down one book to read another, but from what I understand this book series is awesome.)

I've become addicted to the show "Supernatural." My friends were right, it really is right up my ally. It's good inspiration for the type of books and short stories I like to write. It's nice to know that writing for television shows is finally getting good again. (I know, Supernatural has been out for a while, but we're just now getting to watch it.)

Other than that, I'm on fifty thousand words in "Everburn" and soon I'll be ready to look for another agent. I'm very grateful to my friend Josh for all of his help in giving me ideas for publishing companies to submit the story to. I'm enjoying steampunk immensely so I might write another steampunk story when I'm done with this one. (Either way, "Everburn" is the first novel of a series, but I think I'd also try to write one regular steampunk story without the addition of fantasy as well.)

Random Acts of Nancy

2010-04-01T13:35:00.000-07:00

Sorry this blog post is so random and that I didn't blog last week, but I've been working very hard on my newest book and have been very busy. I'm glad to say that for once I don't have writer's block, in fact, quite the opposite. Everyday I've felt the need to write and have written consistently almost ten words a day. I'm now nearly 50,000 words into "Everburn" at 150 pages. I think I'm a little over halfway done with the plot as well, so thankfully I'm on schedule. I think when I'm done with this book I'm going to call on the few contacts that I have in this business to ask some advice on what agency to send it to. Since it's a steampunk fantasy novel, I have no clue.

Other than the novel, I've been trying to think of a way to make money. (As everyone knows, you don't get into the writing industry to make money, and so my funds are running low.) I've sent a few ideas to T-shirt hell in the hopes that they'll like one of them. They are, "Please don't trouble me with your intellectual masturbation," "Flaccid Wit," and "I have anti-social (or antisocial) skills." I coined these phrases on various occasions, and I thought they were funny. Hopefully those working at tshirthell.com will think the same. In the meantime, I might be getting a real job in a few months as well. Still, I won't stop writing even if I have to do it at night or on the weekends--I still need to feed the addiction.

Also, I've come up with what I think is a clever idea for a new Disney theme park, and now that John Lasseter of Pixar is in charge of theme parks at Disney World, it might be about time for me to pitch it. I've had this idea for years, and I've come up with some interesting concepts for rides, restaurants, shows, etc. So, now I'm working on concept art and writing up all of my ideas to see if Disney would be interested in buying said ideas, or even better, hiring me to work on this concept. Wish me lots of luck, because I'll need lots of luck to pull it off. I think the ideas are good and speak for themselves, the key being if someone will listen, and if they'll treat me fairly. If anyone in the industry would, Lasseter seems to be the type. A person can dream, and I'm going to work hard to make my dreams come true. It was always my dream to work for Disney, and I'd like to pull it off any way that I can. I was inspired with this idea, and I think that inspiration shows through. I think Walt Disney would've loved it.

I'm looking very forward to a vacation coming up in a few weeks, as well as my five year wedding anniversary. Soon, I'll be going out of town for a long weekend at Garden City Beach. Even though I'm enjoying writing, I've been feeling very cooped up and need to get out of the house. Maybe I'll take my work with me, but I'm thinking there won't be much working going on. I'll be lying on the beach, doing a little swimming, shopping, and drinking fruity adult beverages with little umbrellas in them...sweet. Sometimes life is awesome. I'm glad to say that things finally seem to be looking up.

Well, I'm off to work on my character for the game, "Vampire, the Requiem." I'm going to do a little gaming tonight, which is very nice for a change of pace. I haven't been in a game for a long time, and I'm really looking forward to it. (Not because I haven't had the time so much as no one has been running.) Anyway, it should be a blast.

Well, off I go. Keep reading and writing!

Writing Goals and General Thoughts

2010-03-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm glad to say that things are going a bit better for me this month. As I've already told you, my short story "Marrow" is going to be published, and I've been submitting several of my homeless stories into anthologies that I'm waiting to hear back from. I found out that many of my short stories are a lost cause as they are right now. (Looking at the writing style, I can't even believe I wrote some of them because they're so bad, which is bittersweet because now I know I'm getting better.) Still, I've found a few that are still salvageable and I'd like to get some of those into circulation since it seems a shame for them to sit on my computer unread.

In terms of writing news, I'm most proud of the fact that my Steampunk/Fantasy story, "Everburn" is coming along very well. In the last month I've written about 20,000 words in "Everburn" and I still have a long way to go. For some reason, I've been very inspired to write lately--not that I'm complaining. Working on my short Steampunk story reminded me of the "Everburn" story, and so I switched writing Steampunk by itself for writing Steampunk with more Fantasy elements. So far, I'm enjoying it very much.

This story started out small like my "Eternity Game" short story. I started getting more ideas and expanding it, and now I have enough ideas for the making of another trilogy. I have higher hopes for this series because I know my writing style has improved since the completion of my other novels. Still, I don't plan to give up on my "Eternity Game" series either, since I still think the stories are enjoyable enough to be published.

Going to the book store gave me hope. I started looking at the new best sellers and found them to be wanting. If some of those ridiculous concepts can be published and somehow also managed to become best sellers, then I know my novels, being better, have a very good chance. I know my work isn't stellar. I still have a long way to go in terms of experience and developing my style. And, as I've said before, there's also always something new to learn and improvements to make, but I can tell that some of my ideas are better executed and more interesting than a few of those new novels that are already successful. But, as always, I just need someone to give my work a chance.

Other than that, I'm getting ready to celebrate my twenty-eight birthday party. It should be a fun weekend, but it's hard for me to believe that I'm already almost thirty. Still, thirty won't be a bad age when I get there. I already know I don't miss high school. (Speaking of, my ten year reunion is also this year. Where does the time go?) I miss college sometimes, but I knew I was ready to be out of college when I left. Looking back on it, I should have stayed longer for my Masters degree, but like I said, at the time I had my fill of it. Maybe one day I'll have enough writing behind my name to become a professor at USC and teach a class on "creative writing." I think since I've struggled so much starting out, by that time I should have a lot of good advice to give to aspiring writers.

Sadly, I discovered through reading Stephen King's "Insomnia, this quote from Cemetery Nights, rings very true in my life, "Each thing I do, I rush through, so I can do something else." I really should try to stop occasionally, relax, and enjoy one thing at a time, with the confidence of someone who knows that God is in control. In my head, I know He's in control, but sometimes I just rush though life, then turn around to realize time has already outpaced me. Letting go and relinquishing the illusion of control is one of the things I need to work on most. This week, I'm going to try to do just that by picking up painting again, a hobby that is relaxing, takes time and patience, and exercises creativity. It should actually make me slow down enough to relax. Wish me luck.

Well, I'd better go so I can do some more work around the house and to start on my writing for the day. Like I said, I need to work on my time management so that I can work on that painting.

Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland

2010-03-10T11:49:00.000-08:00

I have to start by saying I might be slightly biased in this review, mostly because I absolutely love the story of Alice in Wonderland and Tim Burton is one of my favorite directors. Before even going to the movie I knew the combination of the two was going to be something that was going to please me, or at least be something worth seeing. Since I was so excited about this movie, I was worried that it was going to disappoint me, but I'm glad to say that this movie exceeded my already high expectations. The only disappointment I had came at the end, and it was something I knew was going to happen anyway.

This movie was about Alice as a grown woman living in Victorian England. She doesn't fit in well and is always daydreaming, taking after her Father who took his company to great heights because he believed in the impossible. When she finds out that her life has been planned out in a way that she doesn't desire (she's about to be engaged to a man she doesn't like and is expected to live like a normal Victorian woman), she runs away, following the white rabbit that she's been seeing all day. When she gets back to Wonderland, she can't remember anyone and thinks it's a dream. All of the residents say that she's destined to slay the Jabberwocky, and they despirately need her help because the Red Queen has taken over all of Wonderland and is chopping off heads in her wake. (This story is typical of Tim Burton, showing how a "normal life" can be even worse than the one of extraordinary danger.)

The story was even darker than I expected. There's a particularly disturbing scene where Alice has to cross a moat by using severed heads as stepping stones. And apparently the red Queen has chopped off so many heads that the water on the inside is red with blood and heads look lifelessly up from it like hundreds of lily-pads. (I highly don't recommend letting young children see this movie.) Still, the dark storyline was something that I enjoyed because I thought that there was a parallel to Alice's misery and the state that Wonderland was in. There was great symbolism about Alice losing her "muchness" because she was conforming to society's standards and not being herself (everyone is accusing her of not being the "real" Alice), as well as how running from her problems didn't make them go away. By the end of the movie, Alice has learned she needs to face her problems and that she needs to stop trying to please others and live her own life. There was also a slight insinuation that the Hatter was possibly the right "guy" for Alice, someone half-mad like herself, but she needs to solve her problems and not run away from them, so of course, she can't stay. (Like I said, I was disappointed, but I knew it would happen, still I haven't spoiled the ending because there's a lot more to it.)

The casting was excellent. Everyone portrayed their characters well. I thought it was interesting the way that Depp portrayed the Mad Hatter, using a split personality to portray his madness. When the Hatter was discussing something serious or dark he would lapse into a Scottish accent for a moment and take a much darker tone. The voices for the others were also well placed. I can't think of one character that didn't fit the role.

The effects in this movie were very well done. There were enough digital animation and live action shots to make the characters seem realistic and the setting to be absolutely beautiful. I had a little trouble seeing some of the details of the shots though because the 3D made live action shots blurry. I still want to see the scene where she's falling down the rabbit hole without seeing it in 3D so that I can see the interesting objects that seem to be rushing towards her. Also, I must say, the costumes were exquisite. Everything was a feast for the eyes, and even if you don't like the thought of the story, at least see it for the costuming and effects. I liked how everything was bright colored in Wonderland in contrast to the drab whites of Victorian society.

As I said, overall this movie was a treasure worth seeing again and again. The symbolism was good. The story, while dark, was excellent, and even though some liberties were taken with the original work, the story was close enough that it felt like a continuation of the Alice in Wonderland novels. I did wonder what happened to the red queen though. The queen of Hearts isn't the red queen. I think she was made into the red queen for the sake of simplicity, and I can respect that. Anyway, see it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Stephen King's "Insomnia"

2010-03-05T10:56:00.000-08:00

Each thing I do, I rush through, so I can do something else. - Stephen Dobyns, Cemetery Nights

That line is used frequently in Stephen King's "Insomnia." It feels like it sets the tone for the entire book, about how the main character's life is ticking away along with the time he has to fulfill his purpose. I find myself thinking of that line alot lately. I do that way too much as well, and it's one of the reasons why this review is so late. I finished Stephen King's "Insomnia" last week, and, as promised, I'm going to go ahead and write my review. I have to say this is one of the best books that I've read in a very long time. This book was very difficult to put down, the plot wasn't predictable at all, and this is one of the few books that actually made me cry during the ending. The only real complaint I have is this book is so interesting that you shouldn't read it until you have a lot of time on your hands. It's six-hundred and sixty-three pages long and it will give you insomnia.

The general plot is that the main character, a seventy year old man named Ralph Roberts, starts having insomnia after the death of his wife. However, at the same time, he starts noticing the small town of Derry, Maine is showing a very sinister and strange side as well. His neighbor Ed Deepneau is losing his mind, beating his wife, and claiming to see dead babies everywhere. A political figure named Susan Day has decided to come and speak in Derry over the abortion issue, since a group called "Daily Bread" is trying to close the woman's clinic "WomanCare." Neighbors are turning against neighbors as their passions over the abortion issue are unleashed. And, the more that Ralph becomes interested in the events that occur, he also starts to see a hidden world of auras, strange bald doctors that visit the homes of the dying, and spirits like the Green Man and the Crimson King. This all culminates in a dramatic climax where Ralph and his girlfriend Lois must race against time to stop Ed Deepneau from doing something very drastic.

The first thing that impressed me about this book was how seamlessly Stephen King intertwined his other works into it. Derry, Maine is the same town used in Stephen King's "IT." There's even a reference made to the beating to death of a homosexual man named Adrian Mellon, which happened in the book "IT" putting the timing of the events in this book into perspective. This is also the first book that I've read, where the Dark Tower is literally shown, surrounded by the field of red roses. There's even a scene at the end where a young boy draws a picture of Roland in front of it. I'm not sure what significance the boy has, but I feel certain he'll come up in another Stephen King story. I'm looking forward to it immensely, but I hope I remember his name when he does come up. (I'm still geeking out over all of that, but I am a bit of a book nerd.)

All of the characters in this novel are very well written, and even one of the "villains" of the story, Ed Deepneau, still manages to somehow be a sympathetic character. The themes explored in this book are also extremely deep. It explores how people's passions can drive them do horrible things, and the paradox of having free will but also being ruled by a higher purpose. I liked the way that the world was filled with layers that rested on top of one another and yet remained unseen, and in these realms the forces of "Purpose" and "Random" were at war with one another, choosing champions from the world of men to fight for those controlling them. There were many appropriate references within the text to books like "Lord of the Rings" and to poetry that drew parallels into the world of Stephen King's "Insomnia." It's as though classic literary works were layered on top of the story, the way the world of the auras existed on the same plane as the normal universe in the novel. I believe this story could be a modern day classic, and it made a strong impression on me.

This book will also make you think. It makes you think about the abortion issue, how people treat one another when they want to prove they're right, and how people tend to disregard the elderly. It also made statements about abuse and what it does to people, and how it can rob people of who they are and change them. It's very rare that a book actually makes me think philosophically as well as entertaining me, so thank you again, Stephen King.

I highly recommend this book. I think it's one of Stephen King's best. The only problem I have now is ever becoming a good enough writer to somehow evoke emotion, insomnia, philosophical thought, and immense entertainment in my own work as well. I have a long way to go, but at least I have role-model. I've got to keep trying and keep working, but sometimes I feel like the rabbit in the song "Time" by Pink Floyd, "Dig that hole, forget the sun, when at last your work gets done, look around it's time to dig another one." Or, more eloquently, "Each thing I do, I rush through, so I can do something else." But, I think I'll get there eventually.

New Concepts and Activities

2010-02-22T07:21:00.000-08:00

This blog is mostly a general update, but I also have some good writing news to share. I'm glad to say my short story "Marrow" was accepted into "No One Can Hear You Scream: An Anthology of Deep Space Horror." I'm very glad that worked out because I thought "Marrow" was a good concept and I've been looking for a good home for that story for a long time now. I had to cut about two thousand words out of it (this was very difficult for me to do, but it needed to be done) and I found that when I was finished the story became much more fast-paced and was actually much better. Still, I think when the rights run out for this anthology I'll try to get the full version published somewhere else. There were a lot of interesting setting descriptions and character development scenes I had to remove. Still, the one critique I had of the story was that it was a little too slow starting out. That problem was fixed for this anthology, so overall I think it's a better story now than it was. I'm still waiting to hear back from "Arkham Tales: A Magazine of Weird Fiction" where I submitted "Waterspouts" and the "New Bedlam e-zine" about my story "Sleep Like the Dead" that I resubmitted. Please, wish me luck.

Currently I'm reading "Insomnia" by Stephen King. This is yet another book I don't recommend reading until you have a lot of time on your hands to read it nonstop. It's been very difficult for me to put it down. This book causes insomnia if you don't get to a good stopping point. This is also the first book where I've actually caught a glimpse of the actual Dark Tower, which I thought was very interesting. I'll write a more thorough review when I'm done. It's a six hundred and sixty three page book, and I'm on page four hundred and fifty five, and I only started it last week. Yep, I'm addicted, but I do tend to read obsessively.

I'm hoping to get some more books for my birthday. I'm going to at least ask for "Reliquary," "City of Saints and Madmen," and I think that my friends are going to buy me the first book in "The Dresden Files." I've heard good things about all of these books, so I'm looking forward to it. And, if there are any others that I decide I want that I don't get, there's always the library.

I just was inspired to write another novel as well. I had a concept for a steampunk novel set in a fantasy universe a long time ago. I wrote a short story based on the concept, but it wasn't my best story, and it didn't get into the anthology I was working towards. Still, it's for the best, because now I'm ready to expand on that story into a series of novels. I've been writing notes for a few days now, creating a mythos for the setting of the books. It's a story of fey, winged humans, and normal humans at war with one another in a world where steam rules industry, and people make pacts with spirits and elementals to help them power their machines. While I don't have the full plot worked out, I have created part of the setting and most of the character concepts. Hopefully this week I can roughly map out the world so I know what boundaries I have to play in. Let me know what you think of the idea. I was inspired by many different things, and the universe has the feel of a Hayao Miyazaki film combined with a great deal of steampunk literature.

Other than that, I've been doing my usual housework, visiting with my family, and writing at a story or two. Still, I have a new addiction now, the game Heroes V. (For those who have never played it, it's a turn-based strategy game where you hire a hero to guide your army, gather resources, and build up your armies in an attempt to overtake the towns of other heroes. We've been playing cooperatively and it's a lot of fun. Oddly, since it is a fantasy setting, in some ways it's inspiring as well. It's odd, but sometimes when I don't feel inspired, certain video games will inspire me. (Oblivion was one that really helped aid in my inspiration, because since it was both an adventure game and a role-playing game, I could picture the sort of things the character might be thinking or feeling and it was a good exercise for my imagination.) Maybe I'm just odd that way...

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this blog and I hope you're having a good Monday. Take care. I have a book to plan.

Relic: A Pleasant Surprise

2010-02-18T08:50:00.000-08:00

A week ago I just finished reading the novel "Relic." For those of you who have seen the movie, "The Relic," please disregard everything in it, because the movie is nothing like the book. In fact, the movie was so bad that I think my mind blocked any memories of it out to protect me from losing any more brain cells.

Since the movie was so horrible I was slightly skeptical about the book. Also, this is the second book given to me by the friend who gave me, "The Ruins" and, if you've read my review of that, suffice to say I wasn't a fan. However, I'm pleased to say his praise of this book was accurate. This book is a fast paced adventure taking place in an eerie setting with everything you want a from a best seller; likable characters, suspense, action, and even a setup for a sequel.

The story takes place in the New York Museum of Natural History. Guests are being murdered by evisceration and part of their brains are removed post-mortem. Those in charge of the museum are trying to keep the matter quiet, afraid that it will ruin their chances of opening the "Superstition" exhibit. It's a controversial exhibit that they hope will renew the public's interest in the museum, basically saving it from bankruptcy. However, as more murders occur, the city police and FBI are called in to investigate, and despite the authorities' best efforts to close the museum for the protection of the public, the museum directer pulls some strings and opens the exhibit anyway. This culminates in a dramatic climax where the people invited to the opening ceremony are being picked off by terrifying monster, one by one.

All of the main characters in this story are likable in some way. Even the directors of the museum are sympathetic characters by the end of the novel when they finally realize how foolish their actions were. The main character, Margo, manages to remain feminine while breaking the stereotypes associated with female protagonists. (Hence, she doesn't conform to the weak female stereotype of so many others...) This is also the first book where I've actually liked the figure of a journalist. Most journalist characters really annoy me, because they're willing to do ANYTHING to get a story and often are very crass and cold when it comes to innocent victims. While, Smithback, the journalist, does occasionally seem slightly cold to the plight of innocents, his roguish wit and sense of humor make him one of the most likable characters for me.

Really, the only criticism I have for this novel is in the character of the first FBI agent to show up to investigate the crime. Agent Pendergast seemed very unbelievable to me. We're talking about a man who can read people perfectly, with a well-read education in art, literature, blood splatter, and pretty much any other subject he encounters. Supposedly, he was also one of the only survivors of a special forces group in a Camboidian death camp. And, did I mention he has the demeanor of basically James Bond even though he is supposedly from New Orleans? If the author hadn't specifically said he was from New Orleans, I would be wondering why a British detective was assigned to the case. He says, "Capital!" And, being raised in the South, though not New Orleans, I can tell you, that isn't a phrase we use down here. The author even likens him to Sherlock Holmes in the eyes of his character foil, D'Agosta, the New York city Lieutenant. In my mind, very cynically, I said, "No, sh**?" Anyway, not a very realistic character because no one in reality is that awe inspiring. Still, he was a likable character as well and he and D'Agosta played very well off of one another.

The setting of this book is absolutely amazing. You can visualize the museum perfectly as though you were there, and yet it has the feel of unknown territory. It's as though the depths of the museum are a ruin in and of themselves that few have traversed. Also, the idea of gruesome murders in a museum makes the reader uncomfortable since they're public places, and they usually feel so safe and secure. There's something disquieting about the idea of someone being murdered in a place of learning. Also, the series of tunnels beneath the museum adds an interesting twist to the storyline in a place where people could get lost and never found, or where a terrifying monster could lurk waiting to pounce... I also liked the idea of tunnels beneath the museum because, living in South Carolina, I know there are similar tunnels beneath Columbia and the probability they would exist in other cities is likely.

The thing that impressed me most about this book was the fact it also made the "museum monster" actually very frightening. When you think about what the creature actually looks like, you get the impression of a "B-movie" monster. In fact, what it made me think of most was the monster in the crate from "The Crate" in the movie "Creepshow." Still, the way the creature is described along with the foul smell that precedes it, creates enough suspense and a mental image just vague enough for your imagination to fill in the blanks. A person's imagination can definitely come up with something inhumanly scary if given just enough dotted lines to fill in the horrific gaps.

I highly recommend this book, but don't pick it up until you have time to read it nonstop. As for me, I'm looking forward to reading the sequel, "Reliquary."

Steampunk: A Glimpse at a Work in Progress...

2010-02-08T07:50:00.000-08:00

Well, I've written an outline of the Steampunk story and the first four pages. I haven't come up with a good title yet, but I think I will once I'm finished. Since I did promise a writing excerpt from it, I'm going to go ahead and put the first few pages on this blog and maybe I'll put a more exciting sample up later. I think that the first few pages give a good feel for the setting, and I tried very hard to make the writing better than usual. Judging from the outline, I'm guessing this story is going to be novella length. I don't have many novella length stories, if any, so at least this will give me something to submit as a novella eventually. In the meantime, it's just been very fun to write. I think after I'm done with short stories (probably around July), I'll start a new novel, but I'm going to take another break from Cyberpunk. Who knows, maybe I'll come up with an idea for a Steampunk novel. We'll see. Well, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.

Emily heard the hiss of steam, like the hiss of a great dragon releasing a breath of hot air in front of her. She watched through the crack in the door as steam billowed through the air like a cumulous cloud, rushing under the door and through the crack, enveloping her even though she wasn’t in the room. She nearly panicked and ran for the house, as though the steam itself would reveal her presence, but she wanted to see what her Father was working on. This was the first time he told her she wasn’t allowed to come into the workshop, and something about that made the temptation to peek impossible to resist.

She didn’t know what the machine was, and wondered why he had hidden it from her in the first place. All she could see was a very big boiler. It wasn’t attached to any pulleys yet, so there really wasn’t a machine to see. Her Father’s friends were shouting urgently that the pressure was too high and were rushing for the wheels to release the steam, but the wheel her Father was trying to turn seemed to be stuck.

They called, “Let it go, Reginald! Run! It’s going to blow!”

Her father strained against the wheel, “I almost have it.”

Emily’s Father, Reginald, put his boot against the side of the crate next to him pushing against it while pulling and twisting the wheel, trying to get the leverage to make it turn, but it wasn’t moving. She heard the groan of metal as the boiler began to strain and warp. She wanted to scream a warning to him, or at least to rush forward to stop him. If he saw her, her safety would come first and he would grab her and rush out the door and the unthinkable wouldn’t happen, not again. But, as always, she was rooted to the spot, watching helplessly, wishing she could speak but unable to make a sound, and wishing that she was older so she would know what to do.

Reginald’s wheel squeaked loudly as he finally managed to turn it, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t fast enough, either. The bolts of the boiler broke free, pelting the group with shrapnel, sounding like bullets plinking from the gun of a soldier. One of them went through Reginald’s arm, and he released the wheel instinctively to stop the gushing blood, and that’s when the boiler exploded. The sound was deafening, a pop like a zeppelin bursting but the sound of the steam and water rushing out muffled it with more terrifying noise. Her Father screamed in agony, but she could barely hear it for the hissing. Then, in an instant, it was over.

Emily rushed inside, “Dad?”

The steam was starting to clear the moment she opened the door. His prone figure was on the ground, his skin pink and raw like that of a newborn pig, but it was already blistering before her eyes.

He muttered, “The watch, Emily,” and then he died.

That was all that she got to see, but it was an image that would haunt her forever. Her Father’s best friend, Benjamin was picking her up and carrying her away she screamed for her Father over and over again, but she was getting farther away by the second.

Emily woke up and shrieked, “DAD!”

The empty flat just echoed the word back to her.

Emily sighed and muttered, “It’s been fifteen years. Does it ever end?”

Even as she said it, she knew it never would. Emily groaned and wiped the tears she unconsciously shed from her eyes. Sun was streaming in through the window. At least that meant she wasn’t awoken by the nightmares in the middle of the night. She ran her hands through her shoulder-length auburn hair and pulled on a fresh set of knickers, then changed into a button up shirt and vest. Then she added the finishing touches, her goggles, her trusty, but broken, pocket-watch in the lower vest pocket, and a fresh set of cigars in her top vest pocket. The earthy, sweet smell of tobacco tempted her, but it was too early for a smoke.

Emily walked outside towards her shop. She was glad that she was able to get a machine shop so close to her flat. Since it was within walking distance, she didn’t have to own a horse, though she wished she had the money to afford her own steam carriage. White flecks were falling around her, but she knew it wasn’t quite cold enough for snow. Ash was falling from the industrial smokestacks, swirling delicately like playful snowflakes. The air was hazy with smoke and steam, and as usual the grime in the air coated her like a second layer of skin.

Victor’s words echoed in her mind, “Haven’t you noticed, Emily? The city has a rhythm. It has music of its own, and it’s where I find my inspiration. Listen to the steam, the voices, the gentle clopping of horseshoes, the sound of human footsteps. Close your eyes and listen.”

How long had it been since she thought about Victor? The nightmare had brought his countenance back into her mind like an apparition, there one moment and then fading away like steam. There were so many memories for her in London, that the streets were populated with ghosts of her past.

Emily mouthed, “And what is the city trying to say to me today?”

She closed her eyes and listened.

Anthologies, The Eyes of the Dragon, and Goals

2010-02-01T10:30:00.000-08:00

I'm glad to say that I finished my story for the Zombie Zoology anthology just in time. I also think that it went better than I expected. Hopefully I'll hear some good news about it, but good news or not, I'm proud of myself for finishing in time. It looks like I have my work cut out for me for the next six months. I've picked out sixteen new anthologies to try for, and I've also picked out a few e-zines to submit to as well. Hopefully I can at least publish a few more stories by the end of the year and build up my short story resume. Wish me luck.

As for the agents, all I've gotten so far are more rejections, but I'm not going to let that stop me. Someone will eventually accept my work and I know they'll be glad that they did.

I also finished "The Eyes of the Dragon" today. I'm not going to write a full review, but I will say that I really enjoyed it. Stephen King is a very versatile writer. I like the fact that it had the feel of an old fairy tale and had some of the old fashioned fairy tale cliches (the wizard wakes up the night and a two headed calf is born somewhere in town, etc.). The only complaint I have is that the description of the time Peter is in the tower is tedious to read, but I think that's done for a reason. Peter is trying to build a rope to escape strand by strand and there's a long chapter to describe it. I think you're supposed to feel the tedium with him. I was pleasantly surprised by this story overall, but was kind of disappointed in the ending, because I wanted the fairy tale to continue. I guess in a way it does in "The Dark Tower" series, but wanted to hear the fates of the other characters, particularly Thomas since he had grown on me by the end of the book.

I was a little disappointed because I really wanted to submit to the "Steampunk Reloaded II" anthology, but it's only taking reprints. (I should've noticed that on first glance, but sometimes these things do slip by my very low perception.) Still, I'm not going to let that stop me from writing my own Steampunk story to submit somewhere else. I got really excited about it because I've always liked Steampunk and have only tried my hand at it once. I wanted the opportunity to do it again and to have my work looked at by a writer I respect, but if I can get it published somewhere else, maybe I'll have that opportunity if there's a Steampunk Reloaded III. (Speaking of, I think I'm going to ask for "City of Saints and Madmen" for my birthday in March.)

Still, two more anthologies due by the end of February or not, I'm writing a Steampunk story anyway as though I had a deadline to meet. I'm going to eat, sleep, and breathe, Steampunk until Valentine's day. And, I can't think of a better to take a break from Cyberpunk/horror. When I'm finished, I'll put a caption from it on the blog as a writing sample. I'm looking forward to it, and I hope you are too.

Chew Toy

2010-01-25T10:43:00.000-08:00

Well, for once this week, I don't have very much to say. I'm reading Stephen King's "The Eyes of the Dragon" but I'm not finished with it yet. I got another rejection for my book, disappointing but no big surprise, and I think that I'll be spending a lot of this week writing and doing chores. So, long story short, I've decided to give you another sample of my writing. This one was for a contest that featured a "possessed toy." I chose a chew toy for a dog, possessed by the spirit of the dog that owned it. I thought it would be creative and different. I didn't place in the contest, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. This was my first piece of flash fiction (it might even be a little longer than most flash fiction pieces.) The word limit was strict, no longer than a thousand words. Here's what I came up with. I also was supposed to end it clearly, so I ended it with him figuring out how to break the curse on the toy and basically letting the dog's spirit rest in peace. Still, I didn't like that ending I changed the ending to a cliffhanger after the fact. Let me know what you think.

Kyle cringed, wondering what his neighbors would think as he piled the remaining trash bags around the overflowing trash can. The old man had left plenty of junk in the attic and around the house. He was a little disappointed that the Mr. Snell hadn’t cleaned the house, but not very surprised. That was one of the burdens of buying a pre-furnished home.

Kyle collapsed on one of the leather couches exhausted from the cleaning—only to hear a strange sound beneath him. It sounded like a combination of a party blower and the fake cry of a baby doll. He lifted the cushion up and saw the culprit—an ancient chew toy.

The abused figure that was once in the vague shape of a rabbit looked up at him with yellow button eyes and tan cloth skin that was once white. One eye was slightly askew, hanging from a thread. The sound Kyle heard was what remained of the squeaker. Kyle picked it up and threw it in the trash can in the kitchen. He would clean up the rest in the morning. It was time to go to sleep.

Kyle watched the chew toy fall into the busy street. The black lab didn’t hesitate to jump for it, its tail wagging as its jaws gripped the toy for what would be the last time. The wheels of the gray beater squealed as the driver hit the brake—but it was too late. Kyle tried to turn away but the dog locked eyes with him as it’s face was crushed by the car, the bloody chew toy flew from its mouth onto the sidewalk.

Kyle woke up, sweating. His hand was slimy.

“Like dog slobber,” He thought.

He sighed and closed his eyes, only to hear a sound that made a chill run down his spine like an icicle sliding down his bare back. It was like the wheeze of a dying animal, the sound of the chew toy.

Kyle slowly approached the kitchen, a baseball bat in his hand. He turned on the light. The chew toy was out of the trashcan and on the floor. The doors were still locked. He sighed, picked up the toy, and then suddenly dropped it. He hadn’t noticed the rust colored stain on the back, a blood stain just like in his dream.

Kyle mouthed, “I’m working too hard. That’s it.”

Kyle tried to ignore the frantic squeaks of the toy behind him as he walked back towards his room. He turned around and the sound stopped.

All night, just as he was about to fall asleep, he had heard the toy wheeze. He could see the eyes of the dog haunting him, and even when he managed to fall asleep he had more nightmares about it. It got so bad that he threw the toy into a drawer all the way across the house—only to find it on the floor of his room the next day.

Kyle tried to clean get his mind off of it, but every noise made him jump, even the sound of the phone ringing.

Mr. Snell asked him, “Well, Mr. Barker, how was your first night?”

Kyle stammered, “I’m afraid I didn’t get much sleep.”

Kyle cringed as the toy wheezed somewhere behind him.

Mr. Snell paused and said, “What was that noise?”

Kyle asked, “Did you own a dog, Mr. Snell?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

Mr. Snell finally said, “Yeah. I had a black lab. Why?”

Kyle said, “You left one of its toys here, and I’d like it if you took it back.”

Mr. Snell sounded angry, “You bought a furnished home. Everything in it is yours.”

Kyle snapped, “There’s something wrong with it, isn’t there? This had better not be a prank!”

Mr. Snell stammered, “It’s no prank. I have to go.”

Kyle said quietly, “Please, tell me what happened to that dog.”

Mr. Snell sighed and said, “His name was Arrow. My son never liked him. He was scared of him. One day, my son let him off of his chain and threw his favorite toy into the street—the dog was hit by a car. I’m not taking that toy back.”

Mr. Snell hung up.

Kyle said aloud, “Arrow.”

Behind him, the chew toy made a long drawn out squeak that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, like that of a bristling dog.

Kyle whispered, “I don’t know what you want, but I’ll figure something out—I can’t live like this.”

Kyle couldn’t sleep again that night. The image in his dreams was more vivid than ever, with the spiteful child throwing the toy into the street, and the sad brown eyes looking at him, pleading with him for something, but he didn’t know what. He was awoken by the sound of the toy squeaking outside his window.

Kyle walked outside and saw the toy lying in a patch in the garden—that’s when it occurred to him. The dog wanted the toy back. As a child, his parents always buried their pets in the garden. It wanted the toy buried with it.

Kyle went to the shed and got his shovel. After about three feet of digging, he hit something. There was a trash bag, and in the area the shovel hit, he could see some matted dry black fur. He gently picked up the chew toy and pushed it through the hole.

As he piled the dirt back over the trash bag he muttered, “Rest in peace, Arrow.”

Kyle felt a chill run down his back. He was sure he heard the soft squeak of a toy beneath the dirt…

Back in Business...

2010-01-18T14:21:00.000-08:00

Well, I've finally gotten officially back into my writing work. Today I sent two more agent letters to the agencies that I sent the epic tome to last year. I have a much better feeling about it this time. Now that the novel is a manageable length, I think that I'll at least get a few more hits and hopefully this time some form of feedback. Wish me luck.

I'm also feeling like writing again after what feels like months of having writer's block. I've picked up one of my old novels and am in the process of finishing it. Oddly, this novel is older than "Eternity Game," but takes place in the future time line of my novel series set in Cimmerian City. It's a story about a group of teenagers with psychic powers (pyrokinesis, telekinesis, aura reading, etc.) who are tricked into becoming runners for a corporation. While they're training they come across some of the corporation's dirty secrets and are forced to choose between loyalty to the company or the desire to bring it to justice. It concludes with a fight between the entity the corporation accidentally unleashed, the crazed teachers that were training the children, and the children themselves. I'm pleased with my progress so far and I think I should be done within three months at the longest.

As far as new years resolutions go, I think I'm off to a pretty good start. I'm back to exercising nearly an hour each day again and eating healthier foods, I've only missed one Sunday of church (totally by accident), and I'm working on completing this novel and sending agent letters. I did sleep in this morning, but that wasn't entirely my fault, and for the most part I'm sticking to the "staying up in the morning" resolution very well.

Well, I'm off to send more agent letters and to write a time-line of the final scene of "Extraordinary" (the mind power story). Wish me luck and please be praying for me!

Ted Dekker

2010-01-14T08:31:00.000-08:00

Well, as promised, I'm going to write a review of Ted Dekker's work. This review won't be as detailed as some of my others, mostly because it's been a few months since I read the first books of his series so it isn't all fresh in my mind, and also I don't want to spoil too much.

Let me first say, that Ted Dekker is a Christian writer. Still, as far as I'm concerned, he could be a modern day C. S. Lewis. His work manages to be entertaining and interesting while exploring the Christian themes of good verses evil, and love and sacrifice. I know some Christian writers lose the story in making a point, but Dekker manages to make you feel the point through the art of the story. One of the things I like most about Ted Dekker's work is that it all weaves together flawlessly, like a tapestry of prose that isn't complete without each book. Some of the books can stand alone, but this is one series that I think gets better as you read more of the books.

The first series that I read by Ted Dekker was the Circle series. The books in this series are "Black", "Red", and "White", but he just added another called "Green" that I'm reading now, turning the trilogy into four books instead of three. This series is also the one I recommend reading first. The Circle series is basically about a man named Thomas Hunter who finds that when he sleeps he awakens in a totally different world. The world is a place filled with innocence and wonder, contrasted only by a very visible corruption, in essence, it consists of a green forest filled with the human residents and gentle bat-like creatures and a black forest filled with evil black bats. In this world Thomas marries, learns to fight, and becomes a leader, but it isn't to last since the forest becomes corrupted by the evil surrounding it, from the choice of one man. The forest then becomes mostly desert. Meanwhile, in the world that Thomas is originally from (our world about a few decades into the future), a deadly virus threatens to kill off the human race. Only the knowledge that Thomas obtained in the Books of History from his dream world holds the key to the world's salvation.

The next series takes place in the "dream world" in between events. This is "The Lost Books" series, containing four books, "Chosen," "Infidel", "Renegade," and "Chaos." In this series, a group of young warriors from Thomas' village must go to our world to find the seven lost Books of History before they can be used by evil forces to cause havoc on both worlds. The Books of History are crucial to all of the stories. The Books are magical and can control the fate of the world. They possess forbidden knowledge, and anything written within them can become reality if someone believes it can.

Which, brings me to the series I read most recently, "The Books of History Chronicles." This series takes place in our world, following the tragic undoing of the little town of "Paradise" in Nevada.

In "Showdown," There's a secret project called, "Project Showdown" that took thirty seven orphans to be cared for in a monastery, trying to produce a child that was a "noble savage." The project goes horribly wrong, and one of the children, Billy, finds the Books of History, managing to cause a LOT of damage. He and his friends gained tremendous power from the books, but eventually his enemies, "Johnny" and "Samuel" gain tremendous power too. The book's climax is a battle for the town of Paradise between Billy, his girlfriend Darcy, the character Billy created, "Marsuvee's Black" and Johnny and Samuel.

The book "Saint" follows the story of the one child who did do the right thing for Paradise, Johnny. His life takes a strange course where he becomes a powerful assassin. In the end, he must make a choice between right and wrong that could be his undoing, and could change the fate of the world. He also must regain his memories of "Project Showdown" and the other events of his past.

Later in "Sinner," the powers that Billy and Darcy gained from the books would give them government influence. Billy has the ability to read minds, and Darcy has the ability to persuade almost anyone to her opinion. They convince lawmakers to start a new rule that could be the undoing of organized religion in the world, called "The Tolerance Act." And, once again, Johnny and Samuel must make a stand for what they believe in. The book ends in a second showdown between Billy and Darcy, and Johnny and Samuel, and they all are forced to face off with a nightmare from their pasts when Marsuvees Black returns.

There has been a great deal of discussion about which novels of "The Books of History Chronicles" to read first. Dekker recommends to read them out of order, but I found that to be slightly confusing. I suggest reading them in the order listed, "Showdown", "Saint", and then "Sinner." Or, "Showdown," "Sinner," then "Saint." "Saint" is the only one that doesn't really affect the order since it's basically what happens to the child "Johnny" while he's growing up and doesn't have as much bearing on the events of "Showdown" and "Saint."

I just like reading things in order so that my questions about the past are already answered, but that is my personal opinion. Also, of the three, "Showdown" was my favorite since it had the magical feeling that the Circle series gave me, where anything seemed possible but the main character had to still overcome nearly impossible odds. This series is also a bit more preachy than the others, but it does have a good message that is important, about how the government could effect free speech when it comes to religion and the ways in which it already has.

I recommend this series to anyone who even remotely enjoys Christian fiction. It's very good and you'll be hooked right away. The books tie into each other so intricately, it would take me much too long to explain on this blog, but trust me, you'll be impressed. I hope you liked this review, sorry it was so long, but there are eleven books in this series so far, and I wanted to give you at least a feel for all of them.

Daybreakers

2010-01-09T20:01:00.000-08:00

I went to see the movie Daybreakers with my friends tonight. I was interested in this movie because it depicts vampires in a cyberpunk setting, granted not really late future only about ten years from now, but late enough to have corporations holding a great deal of sway and for there to be futuristic cars, etc. Since this is a very similar setting to my novels, I had high hopes for this movie.

The technology and setting was believable, with believable advances in technology for a time period not too distantly away from our own. The premise is that vampires have overpopulated the earth and now are running out of blood. There was a great deal of gratuitous blood and violence (this is a plus, since it is a vampire movie). There was also a good bit of emo subplots, where the main character doesn't drink human blood because of sympathy for the humans. There was also some subtle humor, and interesting topics explored, such as vampire animals, and liberal and conservative vampire parties trying to figure out the fate of the remaining humans. I thought the concept was interesting and it was definitely worth watching, but there were about four major problems I had with the movie.

Problem number one, when the vampire virus began people were changing into vampires because of the desire for immortality, by accident, etc., and anyone could be changed. Yes, many people would desire the change, but not all people. It just seems to me, if the population was becoming more vampire than human, someone would've regulated the spread of the disease by making laws so that people not to spread it anymore, possibly even killing off those that would continue to spread the disease. Vampires at this point are running everything and, knowing that they need a food supply, they would probably stop allowing people to spread the disease to just anyone. (Hence games like "Vampire the Masquerade" and other books that say that vampires that have their own societies are very elitist when it comes to who they change.) Vampires, being human-like, would know better than to hunt their only food source to the point of extinction. This would also be foolish since vampires can't breed.

Problem number two, the human farming in the movie wasn't very believable. The people are comatose in this matrix-like setting and it looks like they're being practically drained dry. This is bad science because the people wouldn't survive having that much blood drained away from them. It also looked like a pretty expensive set up, and if anything, corporations don't waste money. For some reason, they also haven't been able to come up with a blood substitute that they can drink. This makes no sense since we can clone blood now. Cloned blood is no different from regular blood, so by using bone marrow, vampires could technically clone blood to drink (but for whatever reason, in this movie they couldn't.) Also, it doesn't make sense for them to farm blood in this fashion. It doesn't allow the humans to mate and produce more humans for them to feed on. It also makes them into useless lumps of flesh. It seems to me, if humans were second class citizens in a vampire society, they would probably be treated sort of like immigrants to this country in the nineteen twenties (before unions), forced to work for a company as grunts, or literally farm, use a company store, and donate blood once a week. This would be more efficient, more cost effective, and better common sense. (This would also be bad for the humans, but at least they wouldn't be vegetative blood banks...)

Problem number three, in this movie, a group of humans and rogue vampires find a cure for vampirism. Instead of embracing this idea, the company doesn't seem to want it. For a city facing starvation because of a lack of HUMAN blood, it seems to me that it would be a good idea to create more HUMANS by changing vampires who no longer desire the disease back into humans. These new humans, once being vampires, would also probably be more willing to give blood for their starving brethren. Also, there's another problem going on, where starving vampires are turning into strange bat-like creatures. Their brains are basically rotting away. It also seems the company could use the cure on these creatures and use them for food as well, since instead they were destroying them outright. It's just a waste of resources, something a corporation would understand.

Problem number four, this movie did have an agenda. I hate it when a movie is just a mask for a political agenda, and this movie was definitely against big corporations. I think that's one of the reasons why the corporation acted so foolishly and decided to hunt the humans rather than using them, along with the other points I discussed above. The movie was becoming preachy by the end of it, showing how illogical and evil the corporation was, and how it was corrupted by it's own power. ::sigh:: Anyway, it seems to me that the corporation would've used the cure to further it's grip over the vampire society.

Other than these problems, the movie was good. I didn't like the ending because it leaves a lot of unanswered questions along with a few plot holes, but that isn't really a problem in and of itself, just kind of a letdown. The effects were very good, the action was exciting, and you do feel for most of the characters. I'd say, if you like vampire films, go and see Daybreakers, if nothing more for the cheap thrills of seeing it on the big screen. (They also have a couple of scenes where they use bats to scare you, and it won't quite be the same without the large screen and surround sound.)

New Year's Resolutions...

2010-01-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, everyone!

Sorry I haven't posted in nearly a month, but I decided to take a few weeks off of everything. The second week of December I got sick with a very bad sinus infection that turned into bronchitis, so I slept and didn't do much at all that week (including blogging). And, the last two weeks I decided to make into a true vacation. I didn't write or do much work at all (or any work for that matter). It's just as well, though. I've had writer's block for the last few weeks anyway, so it was kind of nice not thinking about it and playing the video games I got for Christmas.

Still, it's time to get back to the swing of things. I should be blogging once a week as usual. I've already taken down the Christmas decorations and cleaned up the house, and now I'm getting ready to attempt to write again--wish me luck.

Still no word from that agent, so it appears I'll be sending out the next wave of agent letters later in the week, or early next week. I'm going to go ahead and send new letters to the original agents I sent my work to last year. Since I was just getting started, I made the mistake of querying an epic tome of almost two hundred thousand words, not realizing that they would pretty much stop reading the letter after finding out how many words the novel was. Now that I'm sending them the first in a trilogy of much shorter novels, I think I'll have better luck. (And, hopefully, since it's been a year they won't recognize my name.)

I haven't really gotten around to making any New Year's resolutions, so I guess I'll make some right now. By publicly announcing them on this blog, that kind of makes me accountable...

1. I'm going to try to go to church every Sunday (unless I'm sick, or we're out of town, or emergencies, etc.) and to try to pray at least once a day. This is my most important goal, and I need to strive to reach it. I think doing this will help me achieve all of my other goals. "Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and all of your plans will succeed." Prov. 16:3 (I know this to be very true, because without His help, I would've have even gotten this far.)

2. I'm going to get at least one agent to read the entire novel before rejecting me (I think this goal is realistic. I have no control over what agent finally decides to represent me or when, but I want at least to have one agency decide to read my work before the year is out. I think if I send enough letters to enough agents, at least one will.)

3. I'm going to get at least halfway finished with a new novel or finish one of the others I was working on before the break. (I have a novel that's almost finished, a spin-off from the vampire trilogy that I've completed, but I just got to the spot where I'm not sure where to go with it, so I might start something fresh to change gears a little while.)

4. I'm going to keep the weight I lost off, and attempt to lose even more this year. I'm also going to start lifting weights to firm up my arms and doing sit ups for my stomach. (What I do now is mostly cardiovascular, and working my legs, I mostly exercise on my exercise bike for nearly an hour each day.)

5. I'm not going to sleep in unless I'm sick. I'm going to get up and stay up when my husband leaves for work everyday so I can make use of the full day ahead of me. (So far I'm doing well on this one.)

I think that's enough for now. Sure, I could add more like, "I'll learn at least one new recipe," or "I'll start painting again," or "I'll start practicing contact juggling again" or "I'll learn to play the piano," but, I like to make goals that I know I can achieve. I never know what the new year will bring so I try not to make lofty goals, and then if I do have spare time, I do whatever I feel like. One day, I do plan to do all of the examples listed, but I think I'm satisfied with my five resolutions for this year.

(I kid you not, this is the kind of strange stuff I do in my spare time--I'll pick up a new skill just to learn it. I can already make balloon animals, I know how to juggle--but contact juggling would be way more impressive and would require a great deal more skill, and I love expanding my cooking recipes.)

Anyway, I'll try to stick to it. Next week, I'll probably write my review of Ted Dekker and his novels as promised. I'm on the last book of "The Books of History Chronicles," so I should have a lot to write about. Talk to you then.

Happy Holidays...

2009-12-04T10:46:00.000-08:00

Well, still no word from the last agent yet. Still, I've decided to wait until January to send out the next group of agent letters anyway. Also, for whatever reason I'm having a bit of writer's block this month, so I'm mostly concentrating on getting my chores done and getting ready for Christmas.

I've thankfully finished sending an announcement for the Christmas party (it was a little later than I wanted it to be since the party is on the 19th, but I'm at least hoping to have a little participation.) Like last year, I'm having everyone involved bring something to eat, so this time hopefully I'll have a little less to do to prepare. Even though costume parties are fun, I tend to be more laid back at the Christmas party and actually enjoy it more because I'm not stressing out as much over refills of food, etc.

I'm excited about Christmas. Like I said, it's a more important time for me since it is a religious holiday. I'm trying to keep that in mind since it's easy to get caught up in all of the lights, decorations, food, parties, etc. without remembering why it's so important. I'm actually involved in Lake Murray's Baptist Church's production of "This Man Called Jesus," this year, which should also help me keep the true meaning in mind. (Friends who are reading this, you should come see it. It's a very elaborate production with a very powerful message.)

I'll keep you updated on the writing. Right now, though, I'm thinking there won't be much writing this month. Next week I'll probably write a review of the book I most recently finished, Ted Dekker's "Sinner." It will actually probably be a general review on Ted Dekker's books involving the "Circle" series. I've read almost all of them now and I am a big fan. Talk to you then, in the meantime, Happy Holidays!

Stephen King's Everything's Eventual

2009-11-24T09:04:00.000-08:00

Once again, I've read another Stephen King masterpiece. Everything's Eventual is an excellent collection of horror that I had trouble putting down. The stories were perfect length as well, letting me read one each day as I exercised. I'm going to focus mostly on my favorite stories in this review, but I will say that every story was worth reading, there were just some that I really liked.

For once, I don't even have really any criticism for this review. The stories I "didn't like" were more out of personal preference than any flaw on the part of the writer, and even those stories I liked at least on some level, even if they weren't normally the types of stories I read. All of them were polished, pretty unpredictable, and intriguing. I definitely recommend this book and I think it's a very good example of the art of the short story. (As, according to the introduction, it was meant to be.)

The Man in the Black Suit - This story stuck with me. It's an example of a sort of modern day folk tale, about a boy who literally meets the devil. (Apparently this was loosely based on the account of the Grandfather of one of Stephen King's friends, which makes it particularly scary. I have no doubt the devil does walk around the earth, since it is his domain.) Anyway, this story actually scared me. The accounts of the dead grass where the devil sat by the kid, and the cruel trick that he plays on him, make this story have an authentic feel. I also particularly like the way the child is able to substitute himself for an abnormally large fish that he caught, meaning the forces of good were also at play in the story as well. It has a very folk tale feel, once again showing us the versatility of Stephen King's writing style.

The Death of Jack Hamilton - This story was particularly interesting to me because I've never really bought into the glamor or the honor involved in the stories of John Dillinger or other famous criminals. I have trouble sympathizing with criminals in general. However, this story actually made me rethink some of that. It's an account about the death of one of Johnnie Dillinger's partner's, Jack Hamilton, from the perspective of Homer Van Meter, one of his gang. The language seems authentic for the time period, and it does portray a more civilized sort of crime and a more sympathetic criminal. I was very impressed by the authentic feel of the story and the fact you end up rooting for the "bad guy" by the end of it. It's a very interesting new take, that I do think could be called a "modern myth".

The Little Sisters of Eluria - This story is an excerpt from Roland the Gunslinger's life. It has the same feel as most stories involving Roland and I love how in all things associated with the Dark Tower series, you can see how fate sweeps Roland away so that he can continue his quest. This is one such story, where Roland is being chased by mutants and winds up in the care of a strange group of women called "The Little Sisters of Eluria." They're nursing him back to help--but there's something sinister about them. Roland soon finds himself in the unusual position of being their helpless "patient" and has to rely on the help of an unlikely source to escape.

Everything's Eventual - This story interested me because it's the same sort of concept of one of the books that I'm currently working on. The main character has a strange psychic ability. His ability involves using geometrical shapes to cause misfortune on an individual whose name he incorporates in his "art." A strange organization finds him and uses his abilities according to a secret agenda. He finds that the benefits of his job don't outweigh the means.

L. T.'s Theory of Pets - This is one of my favorite stories in the book because it is so very true. It's about how pets usually do the opposite of what you expect and how they sometimes take on the attributes of their owners. It's clear that Stephen King has pets (particularly cats) from his descriptions of them in the story. It's an odd tale about a married couple who's relationship is strangely mirrored in the reactions of their animals, but it has a horrific twist at the end that makes the story very sad. Still, overall, it's a very good story and fun to read.

The Road Virus Heads North - This is another of Stephen King's stories that is terrifying to read, but would be cheesy as a movie. The story is about a writer who purchases a possessed painting. The character in the painting is a man with filed teeth, a long knife, tattoos, and a hot car, and an expression says that he's clearly up to no good. As the main character is driving home, however, he realizes the painting is changing and the background shows that "The Road Virus" is following him home.

Lunch at the Gotham Cafe - This story is interesting because the married couple featured in the story seem just as crazy as the maitre d' who goes knife-wielding crazy while waiting their table. (It's the story the cover of the book is based on.) This story was scary to me because really anyone in any position could be the maitre d'. Even the main character can almost understand why he snapped and how he probably feels inside.

1408 - Again, even though I know the movie can't be as good as the short story, I have to see it now. 1408 was the scariest haunted hotel room story that I've probably ever read. The opening sets up a very eerie tone as the hotel manager explains that there were a dozen suicides in the room and thirty natural deaths associated with it. The main character is a writer who basically makes a living off of staying in haunted rooms and places, pretending to actually feel a presence, when in fact, nothing every really happened to him. That all changes very quickly as he almost faces what drove those people to suicide as the room around him begins to change...

Riding the Bullet - I really enjoyed this story and it's probably one of my favorites in this book as well. The characters in the story feel very believable. The story is a different take on the ghostly hitchhiker tales. In this case, the human hitchhiker is picked up by a strange sort of ghost. Still, this ghost seems more material than those in most stories, and the creature gives our hitchhiker a very terrible, terrible choice--his life, or the life of his mother.

Even though I love Stephen King, I've decided to switch to Ted Dekker's "The Books of History Chronicles" series. These are the only books I have left spinning off from "The Circle" series, except for the book "Green" which came out recently. I also recommend Ted Dekker as a writer, and I'll probably put a review up of his books at a later date. In the meantime, please pick up and enjoy "Everything's Eventual." You'll be glad that you did.

Hooray Zombieland!

2009-11-19T14:20:00.000-08:00

Sorry this review is a little late, but I've been very busy. Still, since I did review "Where the Wild Things Are," I felt "Zombieland" deserved the same treatment, if not better treatment since I felt it was a better movie.

Zombieland was everything I hoped it would be and a little bit more. When I went to see it, I was suffering from movie letdown from "Where the Wild Things Are" and wanted to see something funny, predictable, and, of course, the gratuitous violence of zombies killed in many amusing ways. I wasn't disappointed.

First of all, the main character of the movie was perfect for me and the audience I was seeing it with. He was a stereotypical geek, uptight, a virgin, etc. He only survived the zombie apocalypse because he could run fast and had devised a set of anal retentive rules that he followed everywhere he went. Most of them were common sense movie logic rules, such as: "Cardio (that's right, do lots of cardiovascular exercise so you can run faster than the zombies, in fact, that was rule number one), "Look in the backseat," "buckle your safety belt", etc. There were thirty two of these rules. Throughout the movie, whenever he would do one of these things, the law would appear written somewhere funny in the background. The introduction of the movie was examples of people forgetting to do these things and hilarity ensued. There was even a cameo with Bill Murray playing himself. (This was golden because they poke fun at the fact Bill Murray Can make people laugh just by being himself.)

Still, there was more to the movie than just comedy. There was a little bit of romance and a lot of character development. The characters actually changed throughout the movie and even the main character broke many of his rules by the end of the movie, creating some plot development. It made you get into the plot of the movie for it's artistic merit instead of just as a funny zombie flick. That was something extra that I didn't realize I was going to get. Also, even though Zombieland was predictable in the Hollywood sort of way, it wasn't predictable entirely. There were some very amusing and enjoyable plot twists that surprised me. (Since I don't like spoilers in reviews, I won't give anything away, but I will say that the first meeting between the main character and the two girls took a very unexpected twist.)

I definitely recommend this movie to anyone who likes zombie flicks and comedies. If you don't get to see it in the theaters, at least rent it when it comes out. Also, for those of you that avoid zombie movies because of gore, oddly, for a zombie movie it was relatively non-gory. The worst part about it was the introduction where most of the zombies were coughing up black ooze and a woman is thrown from a car windshield. (This scrapes her face across the pavement, and that part actually did make me feel a little ill.) Still, for a zombie movie, it was a surprise. Even "Shaun of the Dead" was gorier.

Anyway, it was a good movie and a good night. I hope you enjoy "Zombieland" when you see it for yourself.

Where the Wild Things Aren't

2009-11-09T09:20:00.000-08:00

This will be the first of many movie reviews on the blog. After I saw "Where the Wild Things Are" I felt the need to say a little something about it. I'm also going to assume those that read this review have also read the book at some point or know what it's about enough that I don't have to worry about spoilers.

First of all, let me just say that I enjoyed the book. I remember the teacher of my kindergarten class reading this book to us and I really liked the wild things. They were monsters but they weren't scary monsters. The art was great and the story was fun. So, naturally when a movie came out for a book that I enjoyed from my childhood, I had an interest in seeing it. Still, it's a book that's only a few pages long, so I was also skeptical. Still, as I saw more and more previews for it, I decided that I really wanted to see it. It looked like it was going to be very good and I've always thought that real suits combined with digital effects are more convincing than just digital effects alone.

Even though this movie had good qualities, I feel that I wasted my money. The first half of the movie was good. The kid playing Max was perfect, the acting was good, and there was a darker tone to this movie that I really liked. Max is clearly depressed, feeling like his family is falling apart. His sister acts like she doesn't care about him, his Mother doesn't discipline him, and it's implied that she's divorced and dating. Still, the movie took a turn for the worse when, instead of going to bed without supper (like he does when his Mother punishes him in the book), Max decides to run away. He finds a boat and sails off, ending up on the island where the wild things are.

The wild things seem to represent the most dysfunctional family you could possibly have. Every one of them has a serious psychological disorder from anger management issues to schizophrenia. Naturally, their family was falling apart as well, so they make Max their king, hoping he'll bring the family back together again. (They actually take the crown and scepter from a pile of bones in their campsite, implying they've eaten their other kings, another dark twist that I enjoyed.)

Max makes things worse through his rule. He tries to bring them together, but it seems no matter what he does, the issues they have run too deeply to be brought together by something a child would do. So, one night, Carol, Max's best friend out of the wild things, decides he's going to eat Max and tear down everything they've been working on together. Max escapes by hiding (long story short) and the next day decides to sail away from the island. The wild things are sad to see him leave, but they wave goodbye on the shoreline. Still, what bothered me, was nothing was resolved. They were all just the same dysfunctional family but you didn't know if Carol and his girlfriend got back together or decided to split forever. There was such a bad fight the previous night that one of the wild things had lost an arm, and it was clear things were still worse than they were before.

In essence, Max learned nothing. He had problems at home and ran away, then had problems with the wild things and ran away from them as well. It isn't implied that he misses his mother like he does in the book, it's implied he's running for his life so he doesn't get eaten.

Still, the worst part was yet to come. You assume that the entire scenario of the wild things takes place in his mind. However, when he gets home, while he does seem happy to see his Mother he doesn't apologize, and he doesn't get punished. Not only is the soup still hot, but he gets a large slice of chocolate cake and a tall glass of milk. The point behind the original story was that the kid was punished, imagined himself in a different place, and then was grateful for what he had when he "got back." He didn't apologize, but he didn't need to apologize because he had already been punished. In this story, the moral seems to be "run away from your problems and everything will be okay." He didn't learn anything, the Mother didn't learn anything, and all of the conflicts shown in the movie were never confronted. The end.

I would recommend renting this movie from Netflix when it comes out, but don't waste your money, and definitely don't show it to your children. It's worth seeing because of the special effects and the dark atmosphere created by the movie. However, be prepared for a letdown in the end when nothing is resolved. It might just be my opinion, but I believe movies should have a conclusion. Just a thought.

I was so disappointed that I had to see a movie last weekend to make up for it. I saw Zombieland, which I'm pleased to say was everything I hoped it would be and a little bit more. I'll write a review on it in a few days.

Halloween is Officially Over...

2009-11-04T09:11:00.000-08:00

Well, Halloween is officially over for the year. I've put up the last of my Halloween decorations and all signs of it (except for the leftover candy and party food) are gone. I have to admit it kind of brings me down, but on the upside, at least my house is less cluttered now.

All three Halloween parties are also over. My friend Gini's party was very fun. I envy her for her dedication in transforming her house for her party. The decorations looked professional, the food was excellent, and the movies we watched were fun. As always, hanging out with friends is the main draw behind any party though, and that was very fun as well.

My party also went very well. There was no "drama" this year and some of my friends came by from out of town. It was very good seeing them again. I didn't get to play as much Rock Band as I wanted to, but duties as hostess of the party had to come first. The movies we finally chose were the original House on Haunted Hill, Freaks, then the remake of House on Haunted Hill, and the Crow. I think that everyone enjoyed them because people didn't even go into the back rooms until the second half of the party and even then several people were still watching the movies.

The last party we went to was actually on Halloween night at my friend Jared's house. After hosting a party it was kind of fun to kick back and relax again. I have to admit, I was getting kind of tired of my Alice in Wonderland costume by then though, mostly because it was skimpy and I was tired of being cold. Still, that party was fun for different reasons. I got to see most of the people who couldn't make it to my party and so, overall, I saw almost all of my friends in one weekend. It was very nice. (Incidentally, we also watched the Resident Evil movies at that party. I was surprised to find I actually enjoyed the first two, campy though they were...)

Well, that's a brief summary of Halloween weekend. I hope everyone had as much fun as I did. I guess the next big thing coming up is Christmas. I'll probably throw another party. Still, Christmas has a more somber tone because it is more important because of the meaning behind it. Sometimes it's fun to dress up and have a party just for a party's sake.