July 27, 2014Posted by on
When Louis glanced at the motel’s glass door, he noticed a lock of his hair had grown iridescent wings. With its antennae and a small, yet perceptible, oval body, the hair seemed to have transformed into a perfect sample of a monarch butterfly. Louis though nothing of it – surely, he was only too exhausted and this was just an insomnia induced hallucination, and the bottle of cheap vodka he often used as a substitute for sleeping pills must have contributed. Besides, the acne speckled teen at the drive through didn’t notice and nether did his landlady who’d appeared at his doorstep yet again demanding rent. He did not have it and had to rely on charm, which he had in abundance. Or so he’d been told by the seventy year old methuselah.
July 20, 2014Posted by on
I cannot begin to explain how exhausted I am. The damn thing sucked the life out of me. Damn the story and damn the twins and damn the narrator.
Right. Deep breaths first. I’m gonna need help with this one – your suggestions are more than welcome.
July 5, 2014Posted by on
I was away for a very long time. Fortunately, I didn’t quit writing, but, well, you know how it goes, life (with several very bloody and very unpleasant surprises, one of which is still happening) got in the way. I still managed to get dozens of vignettes down on paper, along with several stories that only turned out to be dead once I typed THE END and a couple that were situation, and not plot. More which were all dressed up and nowhere to go – the characters were lovely, but the plot disappeared along with a dozen wads of cash from the safe in the attic library, the bastard.
June 17, 2013Posted by on
…and I won’t be for a couple of more months. I decided hibernation and complete seclusion from both the blogging world and the online workshop is what I should do right now. My mind is mush once again thanks to the unavoidable summer finals.
The end of my second year of university….and I have not warmed up to it one bit. I don’t like it whatsoever and I find it a giant waste of time. That’s only because I feel that it’s not helping me improve as a writer and that there is far too much emphasis on political science even though I’m on journalism studies. And we don’t have literature classes (why – I don’t know). And fiction is looked down on (this is my impression of it). And I’ve been asked by professors why I’m not in a different university, on comparative literature. And I’ve been penalised because my sentences were “too literary,” which maybe meant too long, but we were doing a feature story/profile interview, so I don’t understand why “literary sentences” would be a problem. Again, these are all my impressions of my time in uni, I’m not being objective whatsoever (because this is a blog, dammit, and I’m allowed to whine).
So I leave you, for now. I will be back, don’t worry.
Thank you for reading Ramblings :)
Oh, and here are some pretty, shiny things to distract you while I sneak out the back door.
May 26, 2013Posted by on
I have read many great writers and almost all of them are completely unknown to the world. They stay in the shadows, in dark alleyways, in the backs of closets around the world, waiting for someone curious enough to stroll by and accept their invitation to their dream world.
May 16, 2013Posted by on
Often, when I’m stuck on a particular scene or even when I feel blank, yet restless, I start doodling. (music often just wrecks my concentration)
Sometimes a character or two come out. Sometimes I use them, other times, they are just a spark that sets everything else in motion. I will share two of my doodles here. They are not proportionate really, but then, I love the imagery of twisted mirrors. And again, these are just some things that help me get in “the writing mood” so they’re not supposed to be that good anyway.
There, you know my secretest secret now.
Also, my obvious love for comics. I’ve been reading a lot of them lately (Ellis and Moore mostly). And I’ve been tricked into writing articles for a national (I think) photography center, so that’s getting in the way of my stories. Busy these days. Can’t remember words. Bugger.
May 9, 2013Posted by on
“And good coffee?” asked Edgar.
“So strong it’ll knock the shoes off your feet.”
Edgar thought about returning home. Then he thought about staying in a muse-free room for the night. “This bed…does it have fluffy pillows?” he asked.
The next morning, Edgar woke up with a headache. He remembered paying for a room at the inn, and something about frogs and phlegm, but the rest of the previous day was a confusing and chaotic blur. He mumbled a “Thank you very much” to the bartender who replied with a cheery “You’re always welcome here, laddie” and made his way back home. Edgar was pleased to find most of his aches and pains had evaporated on the crisp morning air. He did not however appreciate the effect the air had on his memory.
May 2, 2013Posted by on
February kicked me in the guts and strode away with a snigger, leaving me curled up on the curb with a broken lip and severely bruised ribs. I did not like this February and obviously it didn’t like me either. I was neither writing nor keeping up with my studies for a month or so and all it did was make the typical writers’ fears and doubt stronger. How bloody wonderful.
April 29, 2013Posted by on
For my dear new followers, check out the About the Blog page.
I know, I know, I’m late posting, but I’ve been troubled and busy. I will explain in the next rambling, I promise.I do have some new ideas, I just have to get rid of the insecurity and dread and doubt and all that. Till the next rambling, wordpressers, enjoy