He Said Nobody's Perfect

Angela's email hit me out of nowhere. Said she needed space. That she couldn't be online every night like she always had been. Space? I knew what that meant. Everyone knows what that really means. Some part of me had seen it all coming, much as I wanted to deny it. Is it sad part of me felt vindicated reading it?

I told her exactly what I thought of that. Sent her a long email. Don't think I'm heartless. If anyone she's the heartless one, not me! She doesn't mean it, I think. She just doesn't think about anyone else. She not only wears her heart on her sleeve but beats you senseless over the head with it. Messy, that's what this whole thing is. And I didn't start it. That so-called "friend" of hers did, polluting her mind against me. She's so flighty like that. It's just the way she's wired I guess. Sensitive is a better word. Overly sensitive is closer to the truth though. Tell her what she wants to hear and she goes running to it. She can't make up her own mind.

Eleven & Counting - Part 8

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Feel free to begin here or return to the Index.
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Part 8 - "Meet the Family"

Andrew did want to meet the other fish-dragons, (Though he supposed the correct term was Gulariss-es? Gulariss-i?) but he also wanted to study the complex shell mosaics along the walls.

The designs flowed in and out of another, like those optical illusion designs where you can't tell where one begins and another starts. The gently swaying lanterns cast shadows along their edges, some flickering to life, he could swear the gills moved in and out. He wished he had brought a camera with him; then again, it would have never made the journey down here to the bottom of the lake, no matter how "waterproof" it might have been.

Never Good Enough

The first time I met Jimmy it was magic. Sure we were nervous, but after the first half hour it was like we had always been together. He was even better than he had seemed online.

I know what you're probably thinking, but I've known Jimmy for eight years now. He's my soul mate. Look, you just don't know him like I do. You don't know what it's like for him. Believe me. I've been to his house.

I was just there a few days ago.

I saw his father hit him. Right in front of me, a guest in their home! I couldn't believe it. He even made him mow the lawn and take out the garbage while I had to sit in the dining room. I had to smile and act polite to a man I hated. What else could I do? I didn't want to make things worse for him. I could fly home at the end of the week, but Jimmy? He lived there every day.

I fantasize about him moving in with my family. It's killing me to only see him once or twice a year. I need him. And he was the first person who ever needed me too.

Last One Standing Tall #7

A Fantasy-Western Serial



#7 - A LACK OF TRUST

Reed watched as the men rifled through his possessions, such as they were.

Considering the shotgun barrel pressed against his temple, he decided he had better just let them do as they pleased for now. Not that he could have moved much anyway since they had bound him like a bale of hay. If he moved too much the coarse ropes cut into his green flesh, weeping precious fluid. Healing himself would only weaken him eventually, so he let the wounds sit open for now. Somehow he managed to tolerate the burning sting there.

A tall man gulped down water from one of his canteens, water dribbling down his narrow chin and splashing on his flannel shirt. Reed had never seen someone drink so greedily. Did they not have enough water in this town?

A Blog Awards Ceremony

Gracie Crone of Crone's Cauldron Publications has presented me with two awards: the Versatile Blogger and the One Lovely Blog award. If you haven't read any of her fiction yet, I highly recommend her weekly serial: Fire & Water, a tale about a young man's destiny featuring dragons, selkies, shape-shifting cats and other fantastical beasties. The lovely Miss Gracie's not only a writer of myths and legends but of science fiction and horror as well. If you love a good ghost story, I also recommend her 6-part story: "The Back Yard" which was the first story of hers that I read.

Thank you so much Gracie! I always look forward to your new stories.

5 Fun Ways to SMAAAAASH Writer's Block!

Makes you just wanna punch him, doesn't it? -- Find more fun comics at VG Cats!

As writers, we are united under a single fear. It happens to all of us, whether we be rich or poor, pros or amateurs. Writer's Block doesn't discriminate.

So what can you do when you're sitting at your computer, staring at the blinking cursor? Are your hands trembling over a blank notebook page? Or are you mindlessly punching the keys on your typewriter like the proverbial monkeys recreating Hamlet?

I'll tell you what you can do, my friends! Fight back with an old school--

-- Attack!  

Good Mothers

Donna studied the two packages in her hands, weighing the pros and cons of their Nutrition Facts, which at the moment seemed equally non-nutritutional, leaving her feeling meloncholy at best. 

As she let the winner fall gently to the cart, bouncing off the 48-count feminine pads and landing on the super value-pack of beef, she noticed something was missing. Not anything from the cart though. She looked up and down the aisle for CJ. Hadn't he been looking at that sugary cereal (Captain Whats-his-face?) that he loved so much? He had been, she remembered this vividly in her mind, hearing his voice so clearly say, "Mom! Mom look, you get a free DVD!"

"CJ?" she called, and when no answer came she increased her volume, "CJ?"

Eleven & Counting - Part 7

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It all started here...
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Andrew didn't know how much longer he could keep his breath held. He had no idea how much further they had to go to get to the Dragon's Den. Was there really anything down here in the lake?

A grinning face interrupted his worries. His dragon only paused for a moment before he swam past, darting all over. The little fellow hadn't been nearly that quick on land, but he supposed he didn't look mostly like a fish for nothing. He could see little gills flaring in and out excitedly. Andrew swallowed his last bit of air, still watching Aunt Jenna kick forward. She swam like a frog, arms and legs wide then straight again. He couldn't swim like that, it tired him out too quickly.

When Aunt Jenna swam into a dark hole, he nearly bolted upwards for the surface, looking up briefly. From down here it looked so far away, a blurry patch of yellow light in the murky lake water. Even now he was tired, and very suddenly his throat burned for air. Every part of him screamed at him to leave.

The Short Life of a Biscuiteer

It didn't matter what kind of biscuits: salty or sweet, dry or fluffy, Dana loved them all. But her favorites were the Queen's Specials. Only the Queen's Biscuiteers knew the secret recipe.

The Biscuiteers were no ordinary bakers. Only thirteen lucky bakers survived the rigorous standards, set forth by the notoriously difficult Annual Royal Biscuit Baking Tournament. Even those who won the previous year were thrust back into the match the next Autumn. Anyone who failed the Tournament was banished, never to be seen again. Therefore, to be a Biscuiteer continuously was not only a lifetime's achievement but a coveted honor. This process made certain that only the finest men and women baked the Queen's Specials, making them the finest delicacy in the entire kingdom and sought over by people from around the world.

As soon as she could toddle, Dana shadowed her brother Benjamin as he raced about the kitchen baking the Queen's Specials, each biscuit as big as her two-year-old head. She ate five of them in one sitting on her fifth birthday. On the day she turned eight, Benjamin presented her with her very first spatula - crafted from only the finest ceramic, baked for a month in the hottest of dragon furnances. For a whole month she wouldn't let it out of her sight, even putting it under her pillow as she slept dreaming of the day when she would bestow the world's best biscuits to Queen Jira herself.

The day she turned twelve, she felt entitled to something more than just a gift.