New Directions

Sometimes, I sit and think... why am I always saying I?

Maybe it's the selfish thoughts of a normal person... or maybe the though "I" is all I know.
Is it the way of the writer?  Do they all say I?  Maybe...  maybe it's human nature... either way I will probably never stop saying saying "I".

on a different note:  Sometimes the question arises... what would happen Raven if her story was written differently?  Would it cause a butterfly affect and create different scenarios every time I changed the story?  I can't for sure say that the answer would be yes... but I can say that I hope somethings surface for her that I am not thinking about just yet.  

I wonder do the writers I love to read ever feel this way? Maybe if they write different scenarios the characters would take on different lives...

Maybe the reason I am thinking about this now... is because I know some things are going to have to change with Raven and that will change the could of everything in the story... I am not sure if it's for the better or not yet... I know that it will be a big change.

Listening to: Pandora...
Channel: Boyce Avenue
Reason: I need to be calm today.

Family...

You know, when posting about things in your life on blogs and facebook and whatnot... don't you ever wonder what makes you... you?
I do all the time... i think well i am this way because of that... or i am flustered because this isn't going my way.

What if we all took the time to think?  Is it really just about me?  Do the people i surround myself with matter?  What about my family?  I can say that i do... but, i am not going to lie and say that.  In fact, in TRUTH... i am selfish.  My world is about me, me, me, me... but what about THEM?

If it weren't for my older sister Janice... i would be wallowing in self pity, complaining EVERYDAY about my hardships... but she is the reason in my life.  She is just plain rational.  The woman never stops pointing out the obvious, without any care that you may freak out.  I love that about her.  I need that.  Think about the one person in your life that can't help but be rational?  Then think... what have i done to help them?  With that,k i haven't done ANYTHING lately to help her... in fact, all she has done is help me.  Time to change that... starting today. 

If i didn't have my baby sister Sophie... i would forget that there is laughter and beauty in this world.  Sometimes i think; does this girl even KNOW how amazing she is?  If not, why?  I mean can't she see that her beauty is all throughout her?  Thank the Lord he created this one.  She is an amazing mom... an amazing sister... and funny to boot! I give her all the A's in the world! and Freaking gold stars!

My Brother Ronny... well he's just hands down the coolest cat i know... battling diversity with every step... and does it with a smile, a laugh, and a joke.

Jeremy... how do i say that he completes me without being 1) corny and 2) lame?  By saying that he is my world... simple as that.  He is my balance and my whole.  Without the world of him i would be walking alone... sad.

With out these three siblings i would be nothing...
With out the love a great man i would be soulless..
With out the support of my friends and family here in Oregon, i would be lost.

When was the last time any of you thought of them? Your loved ones that support you?

Building a home and creating a novel

I have been so bugged down with building a home that I forgot I have a novel to write.
I guess it's not that I have to write the story... but it's like it seeping out of my body... pouring through my fingers and toes!

Raven is begging to written about... she is begging me to be ALIVE!

Hopefully tonight I will upload some of my story here... or maybe just write another chapter!

Building a home... creating an OCD friendly house is very difficult.  Good thing i don't count anymore... I just alphabetize and color code... oh well... all who live with me know.

I love you all out there who read my blog.

It means the world to know I can post my words and just have someone read them and just know what I am feeling...

The Journey to The World's Collide (a novel): Music...

The Journey to The World's Collide (a novel): Music...: Isn't it amazing how people use music? I mean... i use music to just function in the "real world"... I use music to eat to, breath to, sho...

Music...

Isn't it amazing how people use music?
I mean... i use music to just function in the "real world"...
I use music to eat to, breath to, shower to, talk to other people to... i use it for sleep and writing and reading... i use it to relay i feeling to someone else.
I seriously use it for my life.
Just recently it came to fruition in my brain that a playlist for my characters is a must.

Wow! i used to write these long, breathless journal entries to describe everything for me... now it's as simple as music.

Working...

Lately i have been doing more working than writing... not saying that it's a bad thing... but it does make me sad.  I am starting to feel as if i will never get another chapter done.  sometimes the wish to be a full time writer takes over... with that comes the realization that unless i get a publisher soon... that's not going to happen.  Sadness for that realization.

Excitedly thought, i let everyone know that i have a new house and will soon be following through on my threat of posting random parts of my novel on my blog!  That's assuming people read this thing...

New Changes

I am heading down a road of new changes!
I have said this before... but, until just a few minutes ago... I was trying to make the old life fit the new one.
It just can't...

Changes in writing style:
This book has to be written... the characters are bombarding my head...
They need to get out and on paper! I am dreaming about them and they are so real!

First major change to the book is; it needs to be first person.  I am trying to create different views on the same story and it's not working.  So, it's going to be just from Raven's view.  It's mainly about her so... she must be the who we all see the world from.

Second; creating a music playlist.  For so long my life has been defined by music, so why can't my writing and characters be centered around the same?  Music is my world, and writing is my muse. 

Third: new and final character addition.

Characters are now:
Raven, Jordan, Mally, Sadie, Airianna, Landon, King Callus, and Katarine

With these writing changes... maybe I'll get something done!

It's official!

I have a new character!!! His name is James!
He needs an epic back story! Short story on James to come!
No more than one or two pages i am thinking!

Side note: there may not be posts for a bit (not that i post regularly or anything)... due to moving! eep!!! life changes!!!

Today

Today I am feeling quite energetic!
Maybe it's because I have had WAY too much coffee... or maybe it's because for the first time in awhile my plans are working!

See, I am a planner... I have every aspect of my life planned out.  But, lately these plans have been changing and I am finding more and more that I can't control them.  However, I just need to adapt.  So... I have adapted.  I have changed plans... changed lifestyles without compromising my essence and maintained what is the core of me.  It's not without hard work and a little houmer to get me through..  OCD blows big chunky bawls! I refuse to let it define me!

With that! Goooooo me... I plan on writing some today!

At times

At times I feel so lost. These words are not coming! And I don't know why. Maybe it's cause I am stuck. Who knows. Maybe I'll start posting the actually story so you all can give me advice.

Grr

Stolen hard drive... stolen life's work... only proof i have that my novel is mine... is that my sister sent me the very first copy i sent to her in 2009.  GRRRRR

Realization.

As I was sitting down to write this blog I realized... 50% of you won't notice i wrote anything... 25% of you won't care that I wrote anything and skim past the words all together.... 34% of you will notice but, not even reply... and that 1% who does read my blog is a friend.  It's funny how some people write a blog to connect. I write a blog (when i have time) to stay sane.  Sane for me, is that the thoughts of destruction are bearable, the self defamation is in hiding, and the pleasantries are in abundance.  I started writing my novel as an outlet.  A reason for all my dirty little secrets... the kind of secrets that would break the prim and proper world.  I started writing because I LOVED it... now i don't even really know what the story is about.  Maybe, it's because it wasn't a good story to begin with... or maybe, it's because i don't think i will ever get it done... or maybe, it's because my life is always upside down that i can't seem to find right side up.  Maybe, it's because I am back on the self destructive path i have always been on.


Either way... it's come to my realization that if i don't write... i just might fade away.

Norareen part 2

Winter 1842:

“Husband… why do you cry? Is the world falling down?” She asked me lightly and wiped away my tears gently.

“I weep for our people.”

“Our people? What has happened to make you weep?  Should I be concerned?” I looked at her and feared she would think me silly.

“Nothing… well something”

“Callus, stop being cryptic and tell me what ails you so.”

“Our child… she is… the child that the prophesy has foretold. The books speak of a child born to the world with jet black curls, blue eyes, and skin as white and cold as snow. ” I looked away from my wife, finding a spot on the wall that seemed interesting.

“Well with that description… it could be you Callus.  You have jet black curls, blue eyes, and skin as white and cold as snow.  Could you then not be that child as well?  Do you not think this silly at all? ”

“I am not the child.  This child that we have created is to be evil… she will ruin our world.  It makes me sad… that is why I weep.”

“Callus... we have two children… one as dark as night yet, white as day and another as fair and colorful as the autumn.  Focus on our two beautiful healthy children.  Do not fret over what may or may not be.  Those books you read could be child stories of old for all we know.”

“You know that is not true… you know we can not die unless we choose to leave the earthly plain.” I looked at my wife, “She will not be the child who will keep our world as it should be.  I will not let her leave these walls without a guard.  She will not bring about the shift in the world.”

“Callus, so cold… you used to be so warm.” Only a flashback…

“Father! FATHER ARE YOU EVEN LISTING TO ME?!”

“Yes child, I hear you…” I refused to look at her.

“You are a bastard.”  Still I looked everywhere but at my rage filled Airianna.  She moved; I could feel what I would not look at move quicker than lightening.  I knew if I were to glance in front of me she would be there.  I looked then, into those storms of blue eyes.  “Would you forsake your people father? Would you let the wars rage outside and do nothing to save them?”

“What would you have me do, child?” I stayed calm. I knew what her answer would be.

“SAVE them, you fool of a man!” I could hear the storms raging outside.

“No.”

“Why? Are you not the one always speaking of love… for your people?  The very souls out there fighting in your WAR!  They follow you blindly, and you would kill them?  What are you having them die FOR?”

“They cannot die Airianna.” I knew that would be a lie soon.

“Are you kidding? Please say you are joking?”

“No, I am not.”

“Those men out there have weapons that can kill our kind! Do you understand that? They are going to murder them! What FOR?” She no longer was yelling… but she was still filled with rage. “What for?” she sounded exhausted.

“Their freedom…”

“Freedom...”  She had such distain in her voice now.  Airianna turned and walked slowly down the throne room stairs, where she had been standing.  “Then, they are like you; blind dim-witted fools.  And you; you are the king of them all.”

I felt the rage building inside of me. “You will NOT talk to me that way.  I am your king and your father”

“Yes you may be those things… but you are committing murder… If you cannot see what you are doing as such; I will talk to you how I choose.”

I was trembling with a rage I could not hold down. I stood very slowly and walked toward her. “You will kneel… you will BOW… you WILL BEG FOR FORGIVENESS! I AM NO MURDERER!”

I watched as she held her ground, eyes cold and hallow and oh so blue. “I will NOT knell, I will NOT bow, I will NOT beg for something I do NOT WANT.  I am NOT afraid of you…  You are the only person who should be terrified of you.  If you cannot see, cannot KNOW that those men, women, and children are dying by no means of our own; the only thought I have to believe is that you are going to let them die.  And, if you are doing that… then by that way you are committing murder.  I don’t bow to evil.” I could see in my own child’s eyes that she hated me.  She held such pure power contained… not lashing out; not even a tiny bit.  Yet, she loathed me at that moment. 

I continued my walk towards her, “If you do not bow to your King… what will you do?”

She had a smile now… one that did not reach her eyes.  “I will forsake you.  I will leave you; like mother left you… like your people are leaving you.  Then, there will be nothing of us left will there, father? If I forsake you and leave… those people outside dying for you… they will leave too.  And you; you will be all alone. ”

I looked up and saw my wife… my beautiful Norareen laughing at me.  Why was she laughing? I don’t remember saying anything funny.  “Why do you laugh, wife?”

“I laugh because you are so silly.  That child just brought a thunderstorm into our palace.  Yet, you cry.  What does she do to make you so sad?”

“She said that she hated me.  I don’t know why she would hate me.” I knew I sounded childish, but I still said the words.

“For any reason a ten year old would hate her father.  Because you said no, if you are going to cry or be sad every time you have to say no.  You are never going to be someone she fears when she needs to.  However, she needs to know that you love her.  She is different from the rest of the girls at court… even Katrina says so.  She is your daughter and you love her… this much is true.  But like you, she is far more powerful than she should be by now”

“I know.  More and more she is becoming something to fear.  She is just as the books foretold…”

“Yet, she is not.  I see something there that those books don’t see.” I looked into her laughing eyes.

“What is it, what do you see?”

“Compassion…  Someday my love, she will be a great Queen… one that will not forsake her people.”

“How do you know?” I sounded desperate and small. I am the King I should sound strong, but that child of mine made me weak… just like her mother.

“It’s a mother’s intuition.” Norareen smiled.  Only a dream…

“Father? Father what in the world are you doing?!” I looked over to see my arms held back and blood dripping from my fists. Holding them was Katrina.  “I ask again, what are you DOING?”

“I- I do not know.” There was blood everywhere, on my cloths and hands; I could even feel it on my face.  Was this my blood?  I couldn’t remember what I was just doing. 

“Can you contain yourself long enough for Airianna to move away from you?” I looked bewildered at my youngest child… why would I have to contain myself?  I turned to see my lovely Airianna beaten to a pulp.  No that’s not the word for it... there were no words for what I had done.  Her eyes were swelling shut; her skin was no longer white but a ruby red… the kind of red only blood makes.  Her white dress was not white any longer, but a pale pink… what had I done?

“Yes, I can contain myself.” I felt the first sting of tears leave my eyes.  Had I become so angered that I would torture my own child?  Katrina let go of my arms, when she did I stumbled to the floor. When Airianna moved to stand I scurried backwards on my hands and knees.  I had started the first sounds of sobs by the time I reached the stars leading up to my throne.  I knew she would heal, and quickly… but still what had I done?  “Airianna… I am…”

The bloody face looked at me… even through all the red and swelling I saw those eyes... She hated me now more than ever before. “I forsake you.  I will never again bow to you.  You will never again know my love.  You are the reason our kind will fall.  It will be because of you.  I forsake you Callus Heart, I will never again stand by your side, and never again will I suffer your rage.  I am not your lapdog, and I will not bow to your will.  When I leave… whoever is left after this war is complete, will follow me, not you.”

to be continued

Norareen... chapter 1. 1st short story..

Spring of 1825:

“There was a time you loved me.” She said eyes cold and weary.  “There was a time when you gave me your all without thinking the worst of doing so.  I don’t know what happened to you my love, but I know that I WILL NOT sit and watch as you ruin the world that we have made.” She was whispering her last words tears streaming down her cheeks… as I did nothing.  

What could I do?  What could I say to my beautiful wife that would take all her pain away?  I don’t believe anything would fix what I have done.  So I sat and watched my Norareen fade.  No, that’s not right.  She didn’t fade.  She grew old, fragile… breakable; and when she was done… she shifted to dust and blew into the air.  There was wind around me and the particles shifted up, engulfing me into their hold.  It was like they were begging me to come with them, pleading me to leave this world behind. 

“No.” I said, “I cannot go with you sweet Norareen… I MUST stay here.  I must live out this life the fates have woven for me… if I do not…” I felt the first sting of tears rolling, and I could no longer breathe out my thoughts.  No my love I cannot go with you… I have done too much wrong to atone for… “I have to finish what I have started…” I would not let her see me sob.  I turned my head away from the swirling cloud, away from the only being I had ever truly loved.  I held my ground.  I will not let my people fade away and be left to the world as a legend.  Go without me Norareen, I will find you when the last petal of our world falls.

I only felt the sadness ease when the swirling tornado fled the room.  Even though no words were said… I heard her whisper her sad good-bye.

I felt my eyes wet with tears far before I opened them.  Only a dream.  It was only the parting memory of my now lost love.

“Father…? Father...?”  I heard the sweet husky voice of my daughter Airianna.  “Father, it’s time to go to the birthday ceremonies.” She was so much like her mother, I almost refused open my eyes.  I couldn’t bear to look at Norareen so soon… yet she was long gone from this world.  Slowly I looked into them… No, not her, merely a replica of a shadow… and not even an exact replica... Airianna was more me than her mother.  She only had shades of her…

I could see my child talking… I was looking into her eyes, yet, I can’t say as if I heard a word was saying.  I never really did listen to her, it wasn’t that I didn’t love her. I did, most of the time.  She was too much like me, so I didn’t really want to hear myself talking.  How do you get cold sad eyes to quit staring at you, you stop looking.  You stop noticing them.  I looked away from her.

“Honestly, father… the least you could do, would be to acknowledge me.  It’s like you don’t even know I exist.” With that she stood in one graceful motion, and started to walk away.  She wasn’t tall, nor completely stunning.  She was just average.  Maybe just a bit too short, her hair a bit too dark, her skin a bit too white; but most of it was that I saw too much of myself in her. 

“Child, don’t be so…”

“Childish?” she stopped.  “It’s like you never wanted me, and yet I am a pure blood.  It’s my day and yet it’s still all about you.”  The thing about this child of mine was that she was always just a little bit too cold.  Right now she was frustrated, but not yet angry.  She was very good at containing such things…very good at hatred.  I knew it was because of me.  I have made my once sweet girl, into me… I stood up and started to follow her. 

“It is still your day Airianna, I didn’t mean to upset you.  I know you were trying to be nice, even for you.  Happy Birthday dear little one…” I meant it, which is more than I can for anything else I have ever said. 

She stood there and waited for me to come to her. When I did get there, I placed her hand in mine and we walked. “You are still my dear little one, no matter how old you get… or sad you become.  What would you like for your birthday?”

I could feel her loosen up at the touch of my hand.  She took in a long sigh, and let it out really slow.

“I would like… I would like one day out in the world, without body guards… alone.  I can take care of myself. I am strong, and have trained and honed all my skills and powers so I can’t hurt anyone.  Besides, I am so normal so average… no one would…”

We fell into silence.

“Just one day?” I asked her.

She nodded, “Yes, just one.”

I nodded, “I’ll think about it.”

Then, before I knew it; she was smiling.  It was a pretty smile; it lit her up from head to toe. Her smiling made me want to grant her wish.  However, I knew that I could not do such a thing… but I wanted to give her hope.   Any little bit of something for her birthday.

“Come; let us celebrate your special day.” I smiled.

As we walked to the throne room I noticed the servants hiding their faces, bowing but not saying a word.  I knew that I frightened them and that they would run to the outside world if I gave them half a chance, but I could not do that.  Any day now the world I have built could come crashing down on my head.   I had to keep the last of my kind safe.  I wish they could understand; yet they feared me.  I heard what they would say behind my back, “The king is really losing his mind without Her Majesty.”

Maybe so, but what could I do?  I had to keep the blood pure, there were many families inside my kingdom… many for them to marry, why would they want something they shouldn’t have? 

It would just dilute our kind.  No, no more shall fall privy to something outside these vast walls.

Airianna let go of my hand and ran for the door.  It was a graceful run.  In fact she was always graceful, like her mother.  For the first time, I really saw my oldest daughter.  She was wearing an all-black fitted off the shoulder ball gown with little lace and beaded red bleeding hearts all over it.  She had matching gloves that spread up the length of her arm. Her outfit touched the floor and made her look no more than her 5’3’’ frame.  She was curvy but slender… like all the girls I’ve ever seen before; but she held herself like the princess she was. Her long black curls were piled high on her hair, but still she had more falling to just below her waist, almost as if she didn’t care what they looked like… and she didn’t.  When she turned around to smile at her guests I saw that she wasn’t wearing any make-up, she never did.  She had a face that looked already painted on.  Her large black blue eyes had lashes so long they looked unreal, her cheeks were always rosy and pink, and her lips were the color of perfect rubies, her skin was white as snow.  The proverbial snow white…   She was a beauty… when she wanted to be.  Most of the time she wore mens cloths, hiding behind a tough male-like exterior; one would believe that she had been born the wrong gender, if it weren’t for days such as today.  She only dressed for court when she had to, not because she really wanted to.

Just like her mother.

to be continued

Amazing insites....

Most of the time... I sit and have this internal dialogue that is long and drawn out and... Tend to get me nowhere.

Today however, I had this dialogue with Beth... she is amazing!  Today her idea about how to help me love my characters was soooo insightful, and perfect. By the time we had finished our cup of coffee and car ride, I had a million things just racing through my head.

She gave me quite a few ideas!

The two I am going to work on are:

1)      Write a short story that ends where the novel begins… not necessarily using the characters that are in the book… but tie the book to the short story… *This is something that I am thinking I will do in blog form*

2)      Write and essay about all the characters.  Get into their heads more.  Maybe it will help me love my characters the way I should.

These two things are things I feel I can do.  And since I have yet to tell you the name of the book, characters, or even really what the novel will be about, this could become very, very fun for me.

I am not sure how I am going to start these two things, but I have a feeling they will be epic!  Eventually, this feeling of doubt I have about my skills will fade…

It’s going to be very interesting… and I am hoping that you all will help me out there in the blogging world…

Not good enough to be a novel

I have sat down to write my novel several times. I have a good majority of it down… but you know, there seems to be a part of me that is afraid of finishing it. With no idea as to why…

Maybe it’s fear or blockage… and maybe it’s lack of drive? No, I don’t think its lack of drive… I have plenty of that.

It might be fear… fear that I will fail and then what? Blockage seems to be happening a lot for me.

I have the characters, the story, the idea, the setting…

I even have the ability to research some of these things…

So why? Why can’t I finish something that is now 6 years in the making?

Lately, I have been really wrapped in my favorite author Laurell K Hamilton’s novels. In fact it's the last three that I didn’t have the time to read before... She does something with her characters, which makes me feel so much for them… even the serial killers, bad guys, and monsters; make me sad.

Maybe it’s that I can see the love she has for each of her characters’?

I don’t know if I love my characters enough to even describe them on paper…

I don’t know if care enough to let the world care for them too…

I am a reader, that’s what I do… I love to read almost as much as I love music.

So why can’t I write?

My sister is my reader… it means a lot to me when she will sit down and read a chapter… or a paragraph. Sophie has managed to tell me that she (not really a reader) is enthralled with my book.

So why can’t I be enthralled? Why can’t I feel for my characters?

What makes it sooo much more difficult for me? Is it because it's my story? Is it because I don't believe it? I am always saying... "I loved the words in that song... but I don't believe the singer" Does that apply for novels too? If I don't believe what I am saying... what makes me think others will as well?

Is it location? Am I writing in all the wrong places, being distracted by too much? Or not enough?

Should I turn on music that inspires me to write from that heart? Would that help?

The journey to the 6th chapter has been hard... and yet, I don't really care for the first 5...

Should I just start over?

I had a dream once, that my novel would be a New York Times best seller... now I am not so sure it will ever leave my computer....