I know it's terrible of me to call myself an author and artist when I've barely completed anything competent yet...but I'm working on it. I dare not tell anyone that I'm actually working on a novel or anything. Those things remain secret I've learned from experience otherwise people think you'll never actually do it. It may take me a while but I'll get through it someday. ;)
I've re-wrote my novel about 4 times already - I'm never satisfied with it. But that's life. At least I have it going in the right direction this time, which is all I hoped to accomplish. I'd hate to write a ton and realize the whole thing is rendered unusable. I'm still not entirely happy with it, and I'm worried something might be terribly cliche but that's just going to stay that way until I edit. I learned something highly valuable from Ernest Hemingway. He said something like "The first draft of anything is sh**." If even he says that, it must be true. I'm stopping my nervous editing while I write habit and just write it through and edit later. I always like to get everything right the first time...Now I'm letting go and I'm getting more done on my novel and it's truly exciting. I really wish I could tell you more but I'm trying to keep it under wraps. I'll tell you just a few nibbles.
I'm using the morning for brainstorming and outlining, and the afternoons for all-out writing until my keyboard is about to start flaming from my fingers. I'm so excited to be able to map out my chapters and how it's going to all go. It does take place in another world and I'm figuring out intriguing ways to invite you into the other world before the main character has even entered so it plays up on the foreshadowing and hopefully gets the reader excited to keep reading and see what happens when she actually goes there. I'm thinking about using something that was supposed to be used in an Irish story I had in mind and instead using it in this created world, because it would fit the story well for some reason. I guess the world has some Ireland type of qualities to it. And somewhat medieval. Not going to delve too deeply into it because I don't want to give away the magical quality of getting to know it first-hand through the experience of reading it.
Another side project - I have taken a silly book I wrote a few years ago of old poems and completely re-vamping it with better poems, editing the ones I find valuable, and even throwing in some never-before-seen short stories. (Never-before-seen because I've only written one complete short story so far. But I'm excited to actually write some full length ones instead of all the chunks I put on here. I only put up chunks so I can still have them available to me without worry of copyrighting and things of that nature.) And so, I can assure you I am quite excited about this project as well. My style of writing and my tastes have developed quite a lot in the area of poetry so this will be a lot of fun for me to write. Then maybe I can actually publish it and want to publicize it on blogs and the such.
So that's that. I hope I gave you a little insight into how my writing is going and what it is that is actually taking place in the now. I very much look forward to allowing you all to read what I've taken so much time to think of and write. I dwell on it pretty much every day and I'm tired of keeping it a secret but I know I must.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Creative Writing Chunk...or shall I say chunk-let?
Her hazel eyes glistened like sunlight shimmering on a beached conch-shell. She gazed in a reverent way so as not to disturb him in his careful work. His fingers wound round about the long silver instrument, and then with all eloquence imaginable for a man of his stature, he hung the most beautiful notes of melody upon the chilly autumn air. The music danced just as crisply as the burnt orange leaves which could barely hang on to the maple's swaying hands. Then, the wizened old willow breathed in the song, and returned it with graceful movements through it's billowing tresses; keeping time with the baker's nimble fingers.
(Sorry for the tease, I should really at least finish the scene, but I haven't the time...I'll get back to it if it's requested, how about that?) :)
(Sorry for the tease, I should really at least finish the scene, but I haven't the time...I'll get back to it if it's requested, how about that?) :)
Thursday, April 26, 2012
10 Minute Free-Style Without Lifing Pen or Stopping to Think - March 30th
Somehow I'm swept away by the majesty of the Savior. In His unrelenting goodness to my family. I think of others and how hard it can be, and I'd say I have it pretty good. I'm sure they'd say that too. Well, that's just it; we all have our problems don't we? We get caught up in the waves of uncertainty. But the fact of the matter is I am not equipped to handle my neighbor's problems, and they aren't equipped to handle mine. I'm not so tough. It's the Lord who gives me the strength I need through each passing trial. And passing is what it is. Time is fleeting - good and bad. When I get down - I get down deep in a pit, and when I'm on top of the world, I think it will last forever. No matter how it goes is irrelevant, quite frankly. Time is fleeting, and instead of this being a dismal fact, I rejoice for the time draws nearer of the Lord Jesus' return. So whether I frolic in meadows of green and smell each daffodil without a care, or whether I seek refuge in the shadow of His wings as I walk through the valleys and canyons, I can find contentment and satisfaction knowing that my Savior is drawing ever nearer. I wait patiently for the Messiah to return to His people, for even those who weep and mourn shall rejoice with gladness at the sight of his familiar face.
From Writing Class: 10 Minute Free-Write - "Beneath the Broylla"
The slim boat was a unique version of a Gondola, called a Broylla. But it was made of a diamond-like substance, sparkling with a magical sheen above the dark waters. A fish swam just underneath their feet, visible beneath the see-through Broylla. What a terrible looking fish it was with great fins of ebony - spindles of paper-thin flesh jutting out at all angles.
"Ah! What a disgusting little creature! Why, I can't believe that putrid thing was that close to me!" the girl said with a look of utmost disdain.
"Quiet yourself or you'll wake the entire school of them!" the main replied in a harried whisper. He flailed his arms in a downward motion, coaxing her to sit.
Reluctantly she sat, eyes penetrating the Broylla, searching for more.
"Are there really that many?"
"Yes, and I shudder to think what would have happened had they awoken to your vain shrills."
The burly man felt a single tap at the shoulder of his dragon-hide vest. The boy had slowly stood up and with his mouth a couple inches from the man's hairy right ear he uttered the words, "Too late..."
Their eyes widened simultaneously as they quickly bolted upright.
"Row faster, you bloody fools!" The man shouted, now grabbing his own oar for the first time.
"Look what you've done, Anne! When are you going to learn to keep your mouth shut? the boy exclaimed.
"Just you nevermind and row!
Bubbles over the black lake transformed into foam. Great shears of fins pelted forth from the boiling sheet of moonlit scum.
"Ah! What a disgusting little creature! Why, I can't believe that putrid thing was that close to me!" the girl said with a look of utmost disdain.
"Quiet yourself or you'll wake the entire school of them!" the main replied in a harried whisper. He flailed his arms in a downward motion, coaxing her to sit.
Reluctantly she sat, eyes penetrating the Broylla, searching for more.
"Are there really that many?"
"Yes, and I shudder to think what would have happened had they awoken to your vain shrills."
The burly man felt a single tap at the shoulder of his dragon-hide vest. The boy had slowly stood up and with his mouth a couple inches from the man's hairy right ear he uttered the words, "Too late..."
Their eyes widened simultaneously as they quickly bolted upright.
"Row faster, you bloody fools!" The man shouted, now grabbing his own oar for the first time.
"Look what you've done, Anne! When are you going to learn to keep your mouth shut? the boy exclaimed.
"Just you nevermind and row!
Bubbles over the black lake transformed into foam. Great shears of fins pelted forth from the boiling sheet of moonlit scum.
From Writing Class: Assignment - A Short Story Based one of your Favorite Paintings - "Dawn Has Arrived"
At the dawn of this new day, the end is finally coming into view. The end. The glorious end. My new beginning in a land flowing with milk and honey - that I do not have to fetch or tend to.
My last day to wake up before the flowers or the birds have yet begun to stir. My last day to bear the burdens of aching back and never-ending callouses. Now I can see the end in sight and how wonderful it shall be.
Oh, dear Mr. Schneider, how indebted I shall ever be...What a generous man to adopt me, even in my teenaged years. To be freed from this wretched slave factory of an orphanage. What joy this news brings to my soul.
As I sit upon this rock and look out upon the dew-drenched horizon, I realize I am truly free for the first time in my life, and I cannot begin to imagine what joys and heartaches this piece of truth shall bring.
Journal Dump: Random Collection of Entries and Sentences from April 2012
He was a charming man with a simple-gazed look about him. He had one intention that surpassed all else. To marry a maiden by the many-splendored name of Cordelia. She haunts his dreams by day and night, splendidly clad in outlandishly beautiful dresses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain slid down over the canopy of the covered wagon like tears. The horses trudged onward through the thick mud. Their skin turned a brown hue, though they were white animals.
The family huddled close together for warmth, edging father from the sides of the wagon, not daring to feel the dampness of their canvas cover. To be wet, you put yourself at risk for hypothermia. For though they hadn't witnessed a single snowflake, the temperatures dipped dangerously low.
The cold was chilling them to the bone. But not nearly as much as the thought of not escaping the dread that was now their past.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How sad. That must be really rough on you." That's the response I received, when above all else, I wished I could hide in a cave and talk to a volleyball at night. Instead, I got an uncompassionate, robotic sentence.
Walking through the skywalk, I watched the happy families, many of them tourists. A family. It will always be out of reach for me now. No attractive qualities, no redemptive character. A husband who decided it would be best to run away without a word, rather than be stuck with me for the rest of his life.
I reached the other side of the skywalk, and stepped into the sunlight on the busy cobblestone pathway, lined with shops and bistro tables. From out of the blue, a bike appeared before me, startling me with a twice-stricken bell.
"You look like you could be in use of a good book. I've got a wide selection right here." His bicycle was bedecked with a huge basket - a trailer filled to the brim with an eclectic collection of books.
"Well, thank you, but I've no use for books", I said, ignoring his outstretched arm. A Vanna White flourish of the arm won't help his business with me. He didn't even have a one-of-a-kind outfit on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somehow, I knew that something was horribly awry in the way that he stood there looking at me, his eyes glazed over in such a manner that he couldn't bare to look at me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unknowingly, he had exalted himself to such a high estate that should he be chastised, I fully expect that he should go into hiding, and never return until he become unrecognizable, lest his ego be bruised.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wedding bells sounded forth their great and joyous declaration as the newly married couple swiftly exited the church building, hand in hand, greeted with smiles of congratulations, and a whirlwind of bubbles.
Margaret, the only, and younger sister of the bride, gave a discreet nod of the head along with a gentle and knowing smile as the couple strode past.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A blossom awaits eruption from the bud just outside, on our tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes ma'am, I'll get right on that. A woman such as yourself requires all of my energy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is by far the most delicious taste to ever encounter my tastebuds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Fun doesn't equal boring."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ticking of the clock soothed me, reminding me that time moves on, regardless of the where's or what's of my life. "Tick tock, tick tock", becomes my song, growing in clarity with the same intensity of my fixation upon it, in which I behold that time is not to be ignored, nor to be glanced upon as in passing upon a bewildering wild plant. it's not a tragic accident that steals your full attention for a while and then you soon fall back into your reverie. Time is constant - therefore it requires constant attention, lest you forget that we are finite creatures, and lose your life by letting each day tick-tock away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maniacally, he shuddered with great torrents of laughter as he ogled over her confoundment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clever creature she was, she escaped the chaos before it had even begun to properly formulate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chiding in with the demented laughter, he felt more depressed than a trilobite embedded in a thick marble stone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shuddering at the very thought of what had appeared to take place, he leapt from his seat to join a more civilized group of comrades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So careful not to harm ourselves physically, yet careless in the spirit. We plunge headfirst into sin, which leads to death, without giving it a second thought. Today I saw a photo of a little girl who was burned falling headlong onto a heater. Everyone was greatly troubled by this, but you won't see anyone horrified by the internal sins of themselves. Our mortal bodies are prone to sin, even our brains, but the spirit will have nothing of it. I shudder to think of the agony we put the Holy Spirit though when we choose to let sin reign in our bodies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain splashed upon my skin, penetrating with sudden chill. It was as though a great ice sheet hung suspended within the thick blankets of grey clouds, dripping its frigid dew to the earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I followed the alluring smell through the pasture - which was no easy task. The pasture has not been used in at least twenty years, and had been over-run with weeds and briar bushes. But the scent was so bewitching to my nose that I simply could not rest until I found the source.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Insurmountable fear quaked beneath her skin. The sight of Him alone beckoned her to run, not sure if the urge was to be as close or as far away as possible. Numerous times she pleaded with herself to say something, but couldn't bring herself to it. His voice shook the mountains, hers was no longer audible. Deep inside, her soul felt it had found home. His eyes scorched and healed. His hands chastised and caressed. Who is this great "I AM?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the garden, the blossoms enticed the bees to dance. They encircled the sweet petals with a hypnotizing pattern of flight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain slid down over the canopy of the covered wagon like tears. The horses trudged onward through the thick mud. Their skin turned a brown hue, though they were white animals.
The family huddled close together for warmth, edging father from the sides of the wagon, not daring to feel the dampness of their canvas cover. To be wet, you put yourself at risk for hypothermia. For though they hadn't witnessed a single snowflake, the temperatures dipped dangerously low.
The cold was chilling them to the bone. But not nearly as much as the thought of not escaping the dread that was now their past.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How sad. That must be really rough on you." That's the response I received, when above all else, I wished I could hide in a cave and talk to a volleyball at night. Instead, I got an uncompassionate, robotic sentence.
Walking through the skywalk, I watched the happy families, many of them tourists. A family. It will always be out of reach for me now. No attractive qualities, no redemptive character. A husband who decided it would be best to run away without a word, rather than be stuck with me for the rest of his life.
I reached the other side of the skywalk, and stepped into the sunlight on the busy cobblestone pathway, lined with shops and bistro tables. From out of the blue, a bike appeared before me, startling me with a twice-stricken bell.
"You look like you could be in use of a good book. I've got a wide selection right here." His bicycle was bedecked with a huge basket - a trailer filled to the brim with an eclectic collection of books.
"Well, thank you, but I've no use for books", I said, ignoring his outstretched arm. A Vanna White flourish of the arm won't help his business with me. He didn't even have a one-of-a-kind outfit on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somehow, I knew that something was horribly awry in the way that he stood there looking at me, his eyes glazed over in such a manner that he couldn't bare to look at me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unknowingly, he had exalted himself to such a high estate that should he be chastised, I fully expect that he should go into hiding, and never return until he become unrecognizable, lest his ego be bruised.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wedding bells sounded forth their great and joyous declaration as the newly married couple swiftly exited the church building, hand in hand, greeted with smiles of congratulations, and a whirlwind of bubbles.
Margaret, the only, and younger sister of the bride, gave a discreet nod of the head along with a gentle and knowing smile as the couple strode past.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A blossom awaits eruption from the bud just outside, on our tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes ma'am, I'll get right on that. A woman such as yourself requires all of my energy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is by far the most delicious taste to ever encounter my tastebuds.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Fun doesn't equal boring."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The ticking of the clock soothed me, reminding me that time moves on, regardless of the where's or what's of my life. "Tick tock, tick tock", becomes my song, growing in clarity with the same intensity of my fixation upon it, in which I behold that time is not to be ignored, nor to be glanced upon as in passing upon a bewildering wild plant. it's not a tragic accident that steals your full attention for a while and then you soon fall back into your reverie. Time is constant - therefore it requires constant attention, lest you forget that we are finite creatures, and lose your life by letting each day tick-tock away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maniacally, he shuddered with great torrents of laughter as he ogled over her confoundment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clever creature she was, she escaped the chaos before it had even begun to properly formulate.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chiding in with the demented laughter, he felt more depressed than a trilobite embedded in a thick marble stone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shuddering at the very thought of what had appeared to take place, he leapt from his seat to join a more civilized group of comrades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So careful not to harm ourselves physically, yet careless in the spirit. We plunge headfirst into sin, which leads to death, without giving it a second thought. Today I saw a photo of a little girl who was burned falling headlong onto a heater. Everyone was greatly troubled by this, but you won't see anyone horrified by the internal sins of themselves. Our mortal bodies are prone to sin, even our brains, but the spirit will have nothing of it. I shudder to think of the agony we put the Holy Spirit though when we choose to let sin reign in our bodies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain splashed upon my skin, penetrating with sudden chill. It was as though a great ice sheet hung suspended within the thick blankets of grey clouds, dripping its frigid dew to the earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I followed the alluring smell through the pasture - which was no easy task. The pasture has not been used in at least twenty years, and had been over-run with weeds and briar bushes. But the scent was so bewitching to my nose that I simply could not rest until I found the source.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Insurmountable fear quaked beneath her skin. The sight of Him alone beckoned her to run, not sure if the urge was to be as close or as far away as possible. Numerous times she pleaded with herself to say something, but couldn't bring herself to it. His voice shook the mountains, hers was no longer audible. Deep inside, her soul felt it had found home. His eyes scorched and healed. His hands chastised and caressed. Who is this great "I AM?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the garden, the blossoms enticed the bees to dance. They encircled the sweet petals with a hypnotizing pattern of flight.
From Writing Class: 10 Minute Free-Write - "Unrelenting Admirer"
"I plead with you that should you continue in this path of utmost destruction, you shall be kind enough to leave my daughter out of it."
"But, ma'am, I mean no harm--",
"Enough. You may think it to be splendidly romantic, but I find it a terrible nuisance. I will not tolerate you gallivanting around like a show horse with your wild attempts to steal Diana's affections. You had best be on your way, young man."
"Yes. I'll do as you so bid me. But, I daresay I shall be returning just beyond your stead to abide in the tranquility of her presence - just out of grasp - for as long as my ever-yearning heart shall continue to beat."
And with that, he tipped his hat politely, turned on his heel, and strode off into the night. A tremble overtook Mrs. Carrigan as maternal instinct told her this was not a matter to be overlooked.
"But, ma'am, I mean no harm--",
"Enough. You may think it to be splendidly romantic, but I find it a terrible nuisance. I will not tolerate you gallivanting around like a show horse with your wild attempts to steal Diana's affections. You had best be on your way, young man."
"Yes. I'll do as you so bid me. But, I daresay I shall be returning just beyond your stead to abide in the tranquility of her presence - just out of grasp - for as long as my ever-yearning heart shall continue to beat."
And with that, he tipped his hat politely, turned on his heel, and strode off into the night. A tremble overtook Mrs. Carrigan as maternal instinct told her this was not a matter to be overlooked.
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