Tag Archives: Online Writing

I’m Back.

Yes, I am, and I am stronger than ever. Where have I been, you MIGHT ask? Working in the “real” world. Working a lot. But of course the reason I have the word “real” in “” is because this, this blog, this writing thing, my musical endeavors, my dreams and hopes for my family and I…

 

…THIS is my REAL world.

 

Dig?

 

My post is short. But there is only so much time. I’ve been enjoying this amazing song by these very talented young men for a while but just recently got my hands on the lyrics. This is me. This is who I am. This is tattooed on my heart. I share these words with you, and give many deserved props to Embracer.

Give it up.

“My whole life I’ve been waiting for a sense of stability but all I do, all I’ve done, is cry over the fact
that some people just sit and let the world walk over them,
some people don’t care to strive for more, they just take what they can get.

But I won’t let you lead that life, although you’re broken,
You’re broken, just like me. I’ll still love you for your flaws,
and everything you seem to hate about yourself.
All those things I couldn’t make you believe to help you through this mess of the world,
To bring you closer to life.

Nights like these always made me feel like I’d never be enough.
I’d never be perfect, I’d never be you,
All I wanted was to pull you from this point of time,
from this miserable state of mind,
But you’ve lost your way.
You’re consumed by this image of what your loved ones want you to be.

Wake up the love we had, the feelings we shared when we were younger.
All I know is that we’ve strayed too far, we’ve gone into the dark,
and all I want is to feel you again, for us to feel the light again,
So just come back home. Come back to me.

All of those times you saw me silent and sulking, I was thinking of you,
all of those days you saw me screaming and fighting, I was fighting for you.”

Embracer, “Glory Days”

WORD.

 

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Put Away the Bucket: A Guest Post by Kat Heckenbach

Everyone knows what it’s like to keep a bucket by the bed when they have the stomach flu. And every pet owner has experienced awakening in the middle of the night to the hwa-hwa-hwa of a cat or dog about to puke. When the latter happens, we spring out of bed, grab the hiccupping animal, and drag them to a room with tile floor.

Why do we do these things? Because we want to control the puke. We all know it’s way easier than cleaning up after the fact. It’s sticky, and gooey, and smelly. And no matter what you use to clean it, if it hits the carpet there will be a stain, however faint.

At this point you have either run off to grab a bucket yourself because you are one of those people who gets sick just hearing someone else get sick. (It can be rather contagious, kinda like yawning for some folks.) Or, you are staring at the screen, wondering why the bleep I’m blogging about barfing.

Well, it’s like writing.

Don’t look at me like that! It is.

I’ve read a lot of stories lately, manuscripts by fellow writers, that don’t have enough raw emotion, or enough evil, or enough something to carry the scene or situation. Oh, and don’t think I’m just pointing fingers—I’ve been called out for this very thing myself.

For example, in an early scene of one of my works in progress, my main character is trying to scare off the father of her child. It’s supposed to be a dark, emotional scene. She has powers, but she’s not using them to the full potential here. She’s, quite frankly, being too nice. I admit, because the book has a significant romance element, I was thinking about an audience who may not take well to scary.

I sent the scene off to a crit partner, and she told me there wasn’t enough “me” in it. She knew I was holding back. The same thing happened in a few scenes in an earlier draft of my recently published novel, Finding Angel, as well. A beta reader told me, in reference to those scenes, “I should have been crying, but I wasn’t.”

I realized the problem. I’d been holding back. In other words, I was trying to get messy, barfy emotions onto the page in a nice, neat bucket. Or keep it on the tile.

But real life doesn’t work that way. Emotions are overwhelming. They are messy and take ages to clean up. And if we want the reader to experience the emotion, we have to be messy when we put it on the page. We have to barf it out—no bucket.

Sometimes, it can be scary. Sometimes, the emotions are a little too close to home. We hold back because it’s not just going to make a mess on the page, but because it’s going to make a mess of us as well. Maybe they are emotions we’ve held down deep for a long time, and we can only bear to let them out a bit at a time.

That’s understandable, but the problem is those emotions don’t translate well to the reader. For the writer, just a hint at a familiar painful situation is enough to feel it full-force again—but the reader doesn’t get that. In order for them to feel what we are feeling, they need more. The only way to give that to them is to let if pour forth unchecked. Barf it out. Then go back to clean up later.

Unlike pet puke, we want our emotional barf to leave a stain. It’s supposed to sink into the reader and make them remember. They should walk by your book on their shelf and feel something. Weeks, months, or even years later.

True, it’s more work. It takes more time to edit away the chaos that can result, but it’s better than having our scenes fall flat emotionally.

So, from now on, put away the bucket when you write. Don’t worry about the mess. If you want your reader to feel the force of your emotion, barf it out.

 ##

Kat Heckenbach spent her childhood with pencil and sketchbook in hand, knowing she wanted to be an artist when she grew up—so naturally she graduated college with a degree in biology, went on to teach math, and now homeschools her two children while writing. Her fiction ranges from light-hearted fantasy to dark and disturbing, with multiple stories published online and in print. Her debut novel, MG fantasy Finding Angel, is available in print and ebook.

Angel doesn’t remember her magical heritage…but it remembers her. Enter her world at www.katheckenbach.com.

You can also support Kat and her writing here at Amazon  and Barnes & Noble!

Thank you, Kat…I think. :}

Of course, I jest. This is awesome. I really appreciate you guesting for Aspire No More and I look forward to more of your work!

Everyone, support your indie writers/authors!

WORD.


Will you Hate Me Forever, If I Told You The Truth?

Mm ba ba de
Um bum ba de
Um bu bu bum da de
Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for
Under pressure – that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets
Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da – that’s o.k.
It’s the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming ‘Let me out’
Pray tomorrow – gets me higher
Pressure on people – people on streets
Day day de mm hm
Da da da ba ba
O.k.
Chippin’ around – kick my brains around the floor
These are the days it never rains but it pours
Ee do ba be
Ee da ba ba ba
Um bo bo
Be lap
People on streets – ee da de da de
People on streets – ee da de da de da de da
It’s the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming ‘Let me out’
Pray tomorrow – gets me higher high high
Pressure on people – people on streets
Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don’t work
Keep coming up with love
but it’s so slashed and torn
Why – why – why ?
Love love love love love
Insanity laughs under pressure we’re cracking
Can’t we give ourselves one more chance
Why can’t we give love that one more chance
Why can’t we give love give love give love give love
give love give love give love give love give love
‘Cause love’s such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the light
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure
Under pressure
Pressure.

Word.

Tis’ the season of love is it not?  I wrote a status a while ago. Then recently I wrote another similar to the first:

I really don’t care if you’re gay or straight. 

I don’t even care of you’re slim or overweight. 
If you’re white or Latino, black or Filipino, you know none of that stuff really matters to me. 
Only thing worth knowing is God’s love, is free.

Then…I saw this and I had to share.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re atheist or Christian, Hindu or Muslim, straight, gay, transsexual, black or white, or anything and everything between. I love you. I care about you as people, as individuals. You are not targets to convert. You are people that I love and people I want to invest in. I want to love you in the best way I know how – and that’s loving you how Jesus does. Unconditionally. ♥”–Julianna Pardue

Many say I am an inspiration. I cannot claim that without feeling humbled greatly. But I will say love is indeed my greatest inspiration. And is the reason I do what I do. God’s Love. This is no preaching. Far from it.

Sometimes the very quote that you’re seeking out for inspiration…is in your very own heart.

Merry Christmas.

 

 

the title of this blog post was written by my wife Jennifer for a song we are writing.


This Message Brought To You By Hope

This quick message brought to you by Hope, perseverance and the letter T.

If you have an idea for a story.

If you have a picture you want to draw.

If you have an idea for a movie, or t.v. show.

If you have a sermon to share.

If you have a song to sing.

If you think you can.

If you…

believe you can…

Aspire no more,

and walk through that open door.

Continue reading


Red is not just a color…at least for me it’s not.

Favorite colors are not just for kids.

Back in 2002 there was a song called “The Red” by the band Chevelle. Loved it. Still do.

I joined a site called deviantart to try my hand at some poetry and lil art pieces and my nom de plume was TheRed.

I was biased towards the song for two reasons. One, my favorite color is? Blue. No, it’s red. All the way red. The second reason, perhaps THE reason I like the color is for what it symbolizes. Blood. The blood of Christ. Without the shedding of blood, I am not saved. Praise God…He did.

So, we fast forward to mid ’10 and I came to the conclusion that I wanted to write a full-length fiction book. An image popped in my head. The image? Not really an image but more of a scene, a moving one.

A little girl in red runs through a dense banyan filled forest,  breathing heavily. The scene moves to a pack of beasts chasing her, though they cannot be seen. The scenes change back and forth from the girl to the stampeding of the beasts and back…and forth until she stops to face them…and says three words from under breath: Do your worst.

The reason she was wearing red? Because it stood out in the night. So I loved it. The idea. It could only mean one thing: Little. Red. Riding. Hood. It made sense. She wanted to speak. And she chose me to write her story.

It quickly evolved into an entire story, an entire world where I carefully chose the characters that would appear in the first book and the great surprises I have for it’s prequels, Book Two:The Bridge and Book Three:Fulfillment.

In The Stories:Book One we see her not as The Little Red but as L’orrah. The name her Grandmother gave her. You’ve never seen her like this.

The red is a symbol in the entire series. You’ll see.

The red.

My Great-Great Grandfather, Miltiadis Lemos came from Psara, Greece. His name, Miltiadis means red earth.

He named his son, Milton derived from Miltiadis.

My surname, Longoria has no known accepted meaning, this is true. But upon recent  investigation I found that the Basque name Gorria means… RED.

I claim that. With all my heart that part of my name means red. The first part Lon is Basque for lion.

Genealogist’s studies prove our family name is from Spain but from the Austurian region. No matter. The Basque and Austurian regions are related.

One can see…my name that I am proud of, Longoria, most likely means Red Lion.

The point? “The red. It filters through.”

Before I found out about the meaning of Gorria I planned on getting a tattoo of a red lion rampant. I have a literal red lion statue in my home. and without giving too much away, “red lion” appears in my book.

Some things were meant to be.

Destiny. Fate. For me…all God.

I’m ready. Just looking at what I’ve written here, there is NO way I’ll let this pass me by.

I…writing this to share with any who read it…that some things were meant to be.

The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable.–Romans 11:29

Be blessed.

stock image courtesy mjranum-stock


Unbridled Talent: Madds Cousins:The Five

#WriterLove

Book Jacket
Book: General Fiction, Romance, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Adventure

Common scars brought us together.

The blinding light swept through the rest of the subway train, silently swallowing everything in its path. Time slowed down. Even I felt it. Screams collided off the crumbling walls and I could see the light writhing closer. The numbness lifted off of my chest, off of every limb at that moment and the light vanished.

Then the subway crashed and darkness took over.

At that moment, I felt again.

After a fatal subway crash, Madison Ray and four girls are the only survivors. They are given the chance to be something and gifted with elements. Strange events begin to occur and people start appearing; some offering assistance, such as the handsome Caleb – others offering annihilation. The Five must choose where they stand.

Madison cannot tell the difference between the darkness and the light though, and as the girls’ dive deeper into chaos, she will have to decide who she will become. She will have to decide to fall again, or stand as Maddie.

A nothing or a something?

The Five or her locket?

“The more people you love, the more you lose.”

Read an excerpt from The Five!

Continue reading


Unbridled Talent: Katie B. a.k.a. Pheonix Rising,

It’s Thursday! Time for another feature!

Retro-Specter

by Pheonix Rising

Mystery, Paranormal, Romance, Science Fiction/Fantasy

What do you get when you mix rainbow hair and snarky attitude? Deirdra’s not your typical teenager; she sees things.

Abandoned on the streets of London, Deirdra’s constantly been in and out of orphanages. At age fifteen, she finds herself in the last place she expects—an exclusive boarding school in Ireland. And if that wasn’t enough, the headmaster’s daughter shows her a possible lead to the answer about her abilities.

Things aren’t always as they seem, and the mystery regarding her powers goes deeper into history—and into the future—than she thought. Abilities that haven’t been seen on Earth for centuries emerge in the least likely people to obtain them.

Clues start to unearth themselves and all signs point to India, where strange happenings have been going on in the shadows of night. Could the incidents in India somehow be linked to Deirdra and her Wandering abilities?

The game’s afoot and she is destined to meet some rather unlikely allies as she uncovers the truth about her powers. But does she really want to know the truth, or will curiosity kill this cat?

On 64 Pick Lists

On 90 Watch Lists

To read Chapter One please continue:

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Who Am I?: An Original Guest Post For Paula Wiseman

Thank you, again Paula.

One my favorite things about the Internet is that you connect with amazing people you might not ever have met otherwise. Today I want to introduce you to fellow writer, Tymothy Longoria. I love his passion for the things of God, and I think you will too. Be on the lookout for his upcoming epic fantasy The Stories:Book One. Like his  Facebook page to stay current on that project’s progress. Online Family, meet Tymothy. Tymothy, welcome to my place.–Paula

Who am I? I am Writer.

Hello all. First I’d like to thank Paula for having me. She is a true blessing and a wonderful writer.

I am compelled to write a short post about why I write or what drives me to write.

I guess I can say it “started” when I felt the need to write to bless God. What I mean of course, is sometimes we have no real intention of doing. So, I sat and wrote a poem. Yes, a poem. Well, one might say , “Everybody does that.” Not true. Not everybody can write a poem as I have come to learn. Not everyone can bring a line or two together and weave those two lines with two others and so on and so on. There are people whose strength lies in mathematics, in teaching, in speaking. More power to those who have found their gifts and realize the grace they have been given to use them. I am in the former category. I digress.

In this poem, I wanted to conjure a vision, not of brokenness or forgiveness-wait, I’m getting there-but of feeling lost . Of being lost. Why? Because I was lost until I was 15. I had heard of Christ and heard of what He “did” but never actually spoke to Him and years later, I wanted to thank Him by putting on paper what I think the soul feels apart from Him. The time came of course and I accepted Him and His forgiveness. The poem. The words appeared on to the page and as I read it, I was taken aback. For me it was groundbreaking. It was remarkable. I had created this. From there I wrote more. And more. Then? I put it aside. No, I put it in a box and stored it in a closet.

Until just a few years ago, more specifically, three years ago, I was working to jobs and while working at my night job, I literally had a revelation. Or epiphany, whichever sounds better. My wife and I were talking about when we were kids, I like robots-I’d draw them all the time-and she liked flowers, of course. It was then I got an idea. Something that many, many of us have said before. I could write a book ! So, I wrote one. It’s called The Sad Little Robut . Thing is I wrote it. Then…

I read this: The gifts and calling of God are irrevocable. Romans 11:29

And I said to myself, “This is who I am in You.” I heard this over and over. It played in my head. It rang out in my heart. “Nothing you do will prevent Me from doing what I set out to do.” Indeed. From Robut I got an idea for a saga, a trilogy that I am currently working on. It’s called The Stories and I am overwhelmed at all that is happening and the hope that He has given me.

What’s more, is I have so many ideas for books, it boggles my mind. BUT, I remember, God says When I do something, I go all the way! Question is: Will you follow suit and have the faith that I Am?

I have faith that He is in control and He has kept His Word. Here’s to writers’. We know what we are.

Do you know what you are in Him?

More than a conqueror.

May you all be blessed and continue in Him.

Note: This may echo other things I’ve written. But it’s my truth 🙂


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