Dreaming but seeing


Jenny walked into the living room, her nostrils catching the gentle scent of her soap. “Ah it feels so good to be clean,” she said cheerfully, as she sat on the couch. She looked at the coffee table, staring down the television remote. Nah, the second I find something that interests me, will be when they knock at the front door. Jenny withdrew her attention from the television remote and stretched herself out on the couch. Now this I can do for a bit, whilst I wait for their arrival. She fixed herself into a comfortable position on the couch; her aching muscles beginning to relax and mind feeling soothed. She shut her eyes; I’ll only keep em closed for a moment.

She sat at a desk, a pen in her right hand and a pad of blank paper before her. She placed the pen on the paper, then once finished writing she examined what she’d just written. I’ll see you soon, was laid out on the paper. Why would I write I’ll see you soon? As she was pondering the question, the pen in her hand began to glide over the paper again. I don’t recall wanting to write something else. Jenny tried to control her hand and stop herself from writing on the pad of paper, but found it impossible; it was as if her hand had its own thoughts and its own will. While she continued a losing battle, her vision was starting to go. A dark cloud began to descend over her eyes; she no longer felt the pen that she had grasped in her hand, and no longer felt a chair underneath her.

She stood in darkness.  It was pitch black; in fact it was so dark that Jenny couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. I am dead? Just as she pondered that thought a bright light was exposed to her eyes, so bright that it burned her eyes. She shut them tightly for a second, and then opened them. Her eyes revealed the inside of a car; she looked around and found two people sitting up in the front of the car, their side profile only slightly visible. Jenny sat in the center of the back seat, she looked ahead. They were driving down the interstate, she brought her attention back to the driver and the other passenger; they were in the midst of a conversation. Slowly it occurred to her that her presence was not noticed, nor did it seem that it was felt, almost as if she were invisible. “Excuse me?” she asked, but there was no reply, not even a look pointed in her direction, they continued to their conversation, unbothered. This is so bizarre. Jenny drew her attention from them and looked ahead at the road. A truck began to slow down in front of them, so the driver, seeming to have little patience with the truck in front, merged into the express lane. As they began to pass the truck, the truck sped up, blocking their way to pass. The road was now elevating as the driver of the car sped up in the express lane to pass the truck. As they were passing the truck Jenny caught a quick glimpse of the truck driver occupying the center lane. The man wore an out-of-place smile on his face. Something’s not right here. Again just before it would have been possible for the driver of the car to pass, the truck again sped up. Now as they road in the express lane a guardrail was protecting them from a nasty fall into oncoming traffic. It was then that Jenny understood. “Slow down! Let the truck pass you!” she shouted, however the driver and the passenger continued on with their conversation.

Before Jenny could utter another warning, she was lifted from the car and she was now hovering in midair directly above the two vehicles. She watched from above, the truck rammed into the car, the car hit the guardrail, and flipped, landing into oncoming traffic, crushing a car, and causing a pile up to transform, as other vehicles slammed on their breaks, some of their reactions not quick enough. “No,” but she was voiceless, Jenny was powerless.

It’s a start


Jenny walked into the living room, her nostrils catching the gentle scent of her soap. “Ah it feels so good to be clean,” she said cheerfully, as she sat on the couch. She looked at the coffee table, staring down the television remote. Nah, the second I find something that interests me, will be when they knock at the front door. Jenny withdrew her attention from the television remote and stretched herself out on the couch. Now this I can do for a bit, whilst I wait for their arrival. She fixed herself into a comfortable position on the couch; her aching muscles beginning to relax and mind feeling soothed. She shut her eyes; I’ll only keep em closed for a moment.

I’ve been working on this Jenny Mac short story bit and that’s all I’ve got so far, though I do know how I want things to go with it, I find myself too tired to give this story the proper focus and attention that it rightfully deserves; which kinda sucks because I was hoping to post this story tonight, but there’s probably a good reason that I’m not posting it tonight.

I really want to take my time with this story and the ideas for it, because it is going to revolve around Jenny’s psychic abilities, so I would really like to figure out her point of view, what transpires during the vision, and perhaps the most crucial, the emotions that she goes through in the vision.

When I think back to how I used to write her vision scenes before I am flabbergasted. In the old scenes I would make one of the biggest mistakes that I writer can make, I told the audience about everything that went on, and never actually showed them what was happening; which is another reason that I’d really like to take my time with this short story. I also feel that if I can get it right, that it might just serve as a helpful blueprint for when I eventually start to actually write Jenny Mac. Which is still a long, long, long ways off, but you know the old saying practice makes perfect.

Well goodnight everyone, sleep well.

You and I


You send a chill through my body, with the touch of your hand.

Ooh, and when you kiss my lips, I lose my train of thought, and all that remains,

(All that remains.)

Is you and I, girl I’ve wanted you for so long, and now that we’re here,

(Now that we’re here,)

I’mma give you everything.

(Chorus tonight your every wish is my command. Tonight I will be your every definition, of true romance.

I just wanna hold you so close, and kiss your lips so softly; while whispering the words, you’re so beautiful into your ear.

Baby you don’t ever have to worry, cause I plan on loving you so sweetly.

I know that in the past for you, love has gone so wrong, but tonight I’mma show you, that with me, love will never again be wrong.)

Ooh, the sweetest, kindest, girl you’ve got an amazing heart; and I could never understand who would be fool enough, to toss you aside.

Baby you’re a crown jewel, who deserves nothing but the best.

No lies, no cheats, no broken promises.

Ooh baby when you’re with me, I promise that my love will forever stay between you and I.

(Chorus tonight your every wish is my command. Tonight I will be your every definition, of true romance.

I just wanna hold you so close, and kiss your lips so softly; while whispering the words, you’re so beautiful into your ear.

Baby you don’t ever have to worry, cause I plan on loving you so sweetly.

I know that in the past for you, love has gone so wrong, but tonight I’mma show you, that with me, love will never again be wrong.)

I can feel your walls breaking down.

Ooh, baby do you know, that you’re looking at me, like you used to look at her.

(I’mma give you everything.)

Your beautiful eyes look into mine, I can see no pain, cause they’re wide with possibility, and they sparkle with love, as you again kiss my lips so smoothly.

(Chorus tonight your every wish is my command. Tonight I will be your every definition, of true romance.

I just wanna hold you so close, and kiss your lips so softly; while whispering the words, you’re so beautiful into your ear.

Baby you don’t ever have to worry, cause I plan on loving you so sweetly.

I know that in the past for you, love has gone so wrong, but tonight I’mma show you, that with me, love will never again be wrong.)

Now all that remains is you and I.

A Glimpse Of Bliss


Chelsea Brown:

Okay I have to admit on Saturday I didn’t even want to acknowledge Valentine’s Day. I even went as far as to wear this sort of screw V-Day outfit; however Seyi reminded me with this beautiful post that love is worth waiting for.

Originally posted on seyisandradavid:

Love is in the air! Love is in the air! It’s all around us!!

(Photo credit: Flickr)

Life (love) is a pilgrimage. The wise man does not rest by the roadside inns. He marches direct to the illimitable domain of eternal bliss, his ultimate destination.

Swami Sivananda

How does one attain bliss in life? How does one attain bliss in relationships? I don’t think there is a clean-cut answer, but I bet it starts with a pure heart. That doesn’t mean the pure don’t get dumped, they do, but they can always pick themselves up again and march on regardless of their situation.

Not everyone celebrates Valentine’s day, the day set aside for lovers because some don’t believe in love anymore, maybe they have been burned several times and are now cynical. I still believe in love in its purest form, (not the kind of trash we see on films sometimes) there is still a lot of love in this beautiful…

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Finding my rhythm


I just finished watching this Stephen King sort of a Q&A on YouTube, and it started off with him discussing how he gets inspired. I always find it very intriguing to get inside a writer’s head and to see how they get inspired, what writing methods work for them, and how, at least for Mr Stephen King, how he’s able to write something and transform one idea into a story within a week. If I’ve learned at least one thing while on my journey to become a published author, is that true artists can create a piece of artwork out of the simplest things; for Stephen his inspiration for a book came from hearing a news story.

For me with my current WIP, it began with a seventeen year-old girl; who would take the bus down to her local Barnes & Noble everyday after school to work on her novel. Today I took in something from Stephen’s Q&A that makes a lot of sense, and would explain why certain ideas always keep coming back to me. He said that he doesn’t bother jotting down notes; because those ideas for a story that are truly good ideas stick with you and you don’t just forget them, unless they’re bad ideas. That gave me a bit of understanding and comfort, because the ideas that I’ve had for my WIP and Jenny Mac have always comeback to me. Not to sound like I am full of myself or anything, but I am now certain of two more things; one Dreamer aka my WIP and two Jenny Mac. As of right now Dreamer may still be in it’s first draft, and it may be filled writing mistakes and issues galore, but I know that it has the potential to one day be a good book. The same in a sense can be said for Jenny Mac, (although it’s still in the beginning stages of drafting.)

Stephen King also discussed a bit about the possibility of going in a different direction writing wise; which was a question that was brought up from someone in the audience. He said that if he went into a different direction his writing roots would show, or something to that effect. This question actually made me think about my own writing. My mother once said to me, actually she’s told me that I should do something along the lines of this several hundred times, and it was that I should try my hand a writing children’s books. I would respond with the exact same answer every time; which was that writing children’s stories has never interested me. Since I started working on Dreamer last year, I slowly began to understand moreover-so why I am so drawn the the YA genre. The reason why I am so drawn to the genre, is when you’re writing about teenagers the emotions are so hot and raw that it creates a variety of situations and circumstances; which helps chisel out a story, that fits in with the character. I think when I immersed myself into Dreamer I happened to find the vital piece of the puzzle which would connect me with my writing, therefor I found my voice, and I found my rhythm, that will hopefully one be recognizable to readers.

Thank you mister Stephen King for making me dive far into my thoughts, and for allowing me to look at writing in a whole new light; and because I’ve talked my head off about bits and pieces of the Q&A, here’s the actual video for you to indulge in. Enjoy :)

Please no more snow!


Well Worcester has been hit with yet another snow storm, lets see the first was a blizzard dumping 30 inches worth of powder, the second was maybe around a foot or a tad more, and the third was around about 8 inches, I think. On the plus side I just heard that we’re expecting more on Saturday. Just lovely.

Though in New England I’ve learned to expect this kind of crazy weather, especially if we’ve had a very mild/boring winter; which is totally different than what I grew up with in Colorado. You’d receive massive snowfalls/blizzards if you resided in the mountains, however if you resided in the plat/boring areas of the state you may or you may not expect the same snowfall amount. And you definitely would not expect snowfalls like you’d receive in New England if you were having a mild winter in Colorado. If you’re experiencing a mild winter in Colorado then it’d be rare to expect change.

A short list of things I’m growing weary of due to the snow.

1 shoveling (way too much shoveling.)

2 snowplow men (Stopping blocking my driveway and walkway, especially after I just spent two hours digging myself out!)

3 showings! (My landlord’s trying to sell our apartment house so between all of the shoveling and cleaning for showings, I stay busy, and at least get my exercise in, so that’s a plus at least.)

4 Buddy’s nasty not-so-surprising little surprises. (I have a small dog who can’t really go out in about in the snow, because his little legs get cold quickly. When this happens it usually means that my apartment becomes his bathroom; which isn’t his fault I’m aware that he can’t help it, it just becomes a pain in the ass after a while.)

No matter at least it’s February, which mean spring is right around the corner and then soon enough summer will arrive and I’ll be ready for winter to come back around, because it’s way too hot and humid during the summer. Ah the seasons you gotta love em’.

Well goodnight folks, sleep tight. :D

Anger


I don’t think that I ever realized how much anger I’ve given my main character Rebecca. Though given the situations she winds up in the anger is rightfully so. In a sense I’m happy that I have given her a nasty little angry side; because I think that it gives the story so much more of emotional depth. Which is something that I need to shoot for if I ever want someone reading Dreamer to have a powerful emotional experience.

Tonight felt like a magical eruption of emotion, (in part because I’ve put some of my own emotional experiences with this particular scene/moment in the book.) I feel like that’s something that people will pick up on while their reading the book, that some of the situations in Rebecca’s life that she faces in the story, runs parallel with situations that I’ve faced in my own life; which would hopefully give the reader that much more of an emotional experience. This has definitely got me excited to continue on with the first draft; not that I’m not always thrilled to sit down and write, and add more to it.

Well I’m bushed, nighty night everybody. :o)