Tag Archives: Stories

You Are A Story

What if we are the ones being read?
What if we are the stories; the horrors, the fantasies, the romances, the failings, the exultant endings?

Maybe some of us will receive 1-star reviews, and others 5, while the rest remain somewhere in the middle.
Are some of us mere quotes, powerful in our curtness, or are we full-length novels, with twists and turns, some swathed in beige cloaks while others adorn themselves in purple robes? Some of us will say more in a few words than others can in 100,000 of them.
Are we fat with adverbs, or strong and lean with simplicity?

Do we step into the light, and feel the true warmth of the sun by sharing our brokenness, our scars, our mental anguish, or do we hide in darkness, in mist, grey and cold in our fear of consequence?

Do our words sear, and scream with passion, or do we stifle the air, the imagination, the soul?

Do we fight to give this unseen reader a new message, or remind her of one that defies time itself, or do we at least offer a moment of escapism, making a smile stretch across her face and her eyes snap with joy?

Are we the antagonist, the hero, the anti-hero? Will we see the end of the story, or are we merely a life that supports the true players?

Are we to be put down, never being lifted again, or will we be read until “The End“?

Will we live past the last page, appearing in other stories…as the hero?

If we are the ones being read, are our stories worth reading?

Human Element via Robotaki Studios

Human Element via Robotaki Studios


Lily & Luke

A pale light streamed in through the single window, giving sight to the particles of dust in the air. Lily sat still atop a desk, looking at her feet, dangling freely. Her dark hair fell over her face, hiding her grey eyes. Across the room, Luke said nothing, and only stared blankly back at her.

“I bet you’re thinking about what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” She said still looking at Luke through narrow eyes. “Try and guess.” She lifted her head and blew her bangs back over her forehead. “No matter what you say, I won’t let you go,” she said looking straight into his eyes.

He said nothing.

“We’ve been through so much,” she continued. “I know you say I may be too controlling. Too much for you to to manage. But you know what Luke? I love you. Don’t you understand that?” Her eyes stayed on his but he still had yet to speak. He didn’t even blink.

I’m the one that taught you to be this way. I’m the one who showed you how to be strong. I’m the one, who showed you how to stand up for yourself! When we met…you were…how can I say this? You were pretty weak.”

He glanced at her.

“A pushover. Now? Now it’s as if nothing can harm you.”

She squinted her eyes in frustration.

“What’s that look? Luke?”

She walked over to him, her arms folded. Continue reading


The Sky Burns Red or Seeing Red Again

The title of this post refers to two, well, three things.

The first one is the title of a song by the epic band Perception Of Intent, which is also the official theme song to my book, The Stories. POI’s debut A Distant Voice, album drops 11.11.11

Seeing Red is the “name” of the e p i c piece below and is also a line in the song The Red by Chevelle…and also the first words in the song Seein’ Red by Unwritten Law.

 

Point, other than the fact that I remind you that red is my favorite color and is in my last name?

Well, this is all getting so very exciting for me as a writer and I would like to share with you all this piece of red brilliance by Crystal Ord, artist and writer.

 

I call it L’orrah Is Pissed with a little excerpt from the book.

“In your years of loneliness, you gave no power to circumstance. The strengthening of your mind, your body…your very soul…you chose to be more! Now who will you be? Now what will you choose?”

“To be more.” -L’orrah, The Stories.

 

 

Also, here are the songs noted above. Anything with red I embrace-almost. And it so happens the latter two songs I’ve loved for a very time.

“It’s all or nothing, nowhere left to run, are you ready for the last fight?
Get ready with the war cry!
Let me hear you scream like you want it!
Let me hear you yell like you mean it!
If you gotta, GO DOWN! GO LOUD! GO STRONG! GO PROUD! GO ON! GO HARD OR GO HOME!

Let me hear you SCREAM!”–Ozz

Dedicated to all those who have something to say, something to write, something to pray and something to fight.

#letmehearyou

 

In The Stories, you will see red…and legends will be reborn.

 

Word.


Friday Night Music, #7DS Site and The October Premier of #UTJT

I’ll keep this post short, sweet and with just a hint of ruckus. 

First, it’s #FollowFriday on The Twitter. Swing by, Tweet, Follow and Support your favorite #writers #artists and creators.

Then hit play on this wickedly epic cover of Journey’s ‘Separate Ways” by a band I discovered just last night, Across The Sun.

Separate Ways cover.

* * * *  * * *

Also, I have some epic news to share. Many of you know I am just one part of an anthology/collaboration of superbly talented Writers/Authors.

Here is the newest site dedicated to the group effort created with awesome by Stephen Penner, a.k.a. Wrath scribe.

Seven Deadly Sins coming 2012 “Can not wait for this to be available. With so many great writer’s involved… its going to be one “HELL” of a read!”–an anxious reader. |m|

Way to bring the ruckus Mr. Penner!

* * * * * * *

Also, reminder tomorrow is the first day/launch of the spookily awesome online magazing Underneath The Juniper Tree!

They are an inspiration.

Here’s a piece that hints at a little short I wrote for them. It was fun to write. Mwahaheehooha.

The Discoveries mute_nOface

Be there and be scared.

This post brought to you my me, the #7DS Crew, #UTJT, Across The Sun and E aka Elizabeth Rose.

Thwip!

Be blessed!


Short SHORT Stories for UTJT

More of my submissions to Underneath The Juniper Tree‘s Twitter #under140story palooza-rama-bonanza!!!

Their September issue kicks off TODAY!

  • I stared into the eyes of the beast. They were cold but burning red. I vowed to be the last thing those eyes would ever see.
  • Roses are red, violets are blue. If I put this blade through your heart…well what color would you turn?


  • Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. And children, thanks be to his very big fall…we can all eat today! Scrambled or over easy?” 
     

Jack jumped back when Jill attacked...and the knife laid perfectly still.

  • Jack and Jill went up a hill…and saw who they wished to eagerly, kill. The end.
  • “Little red riding hood you sure are looking good. You’re everything a big bad wolf…could kill,” the evil beast whispered.
  • I ran and I ran until my heart nearly failed me. Then I reached my destination. Slowly I reached for the words, “The End.”
  • He lifted the quill and blood fell. “Have you ever tried to write in blood? It’s hard. It drips.” The Stories: Book Two ‘The Bridge’ #wiplines 
  • “A man who sacrifices his life for another-great reward follows him in the afterlife,” he said. Then he pulled his gun on me.
  • I awoke alone. In silence. The blood on my hands was still warm. 
I love to write. Word.
thwip!

Emma’s Prayer by River Jordan

 When I was in school, I know I must have seen a show or something, because I wrote this for school and they ended up publishing it in the local weekly paper.  

Emma’s Prayer

Moonlight kissed the features of the small girl as she lay holding her doll tightly against her.

Emma Cortez was squeezed into a corner of the bed she shared with her two older brothers.  Ramón was nine years old and Carlos was eleven.  Emma was eight and she still loved the doll Papá had given to her on her fourth birthday.  That was the same year that he had died.

He had taken care of them well when he was alive though.  They owned their own home which consisted of a bedroom, bathroom, living room and kitchen (the Christmas tree was in the living room).

Emma and her brothers slept in the bedroom and her mamá slept on the sofa.  The reason her mamá slept on the sofa was because she woke up very early in the morning to cook breakfast and warm the water for their baths.  To keep them warm at night, mama turned the burners of the stove on all night and also covered them with many blankets. Continue reading


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