July Writing Prompt

She wore her scars as her best attire.
A stunning dress made of hellfire.
Phoenix wings decorated her soul,
Spreading out as chaos unfolds.
Waltzing through the brimstone and pain,
She smiled and welcomed her old friend.
Like a dream, a reverie, she dances
Past those who would not pass her second glances.
For now, they suffer, entombed by the pain,
She looks at her scars, for they were not in vain.
Born in chaos, she learned and battled to grow,
Unlike those who are consumed, for that is all they know.
In life, each strike, another layer to her armor
Tears shed and blood bled, her soul became darker.
But one day she lifted her head and smiled,
Her strength was no longer frail and mild.
Battle ensued inside and around her fire,
She passed through, untouched by the pyre.
Ashes fell and she was reborn,
A hellfire dress, a gift, was adorned.

A poem for you this month! I deeply apologize for the absence again. As usual, I’ve been juggling a lot and haven’t had much time to post on here. I’m waiting on the book cover for Preservation to be completed and then I will be adjusting the format and publish it soon! I hope everyone is as excited as I am! I can’t wait for you to read it!

WordPress is Back, and So Am I

Four years ago to the date. I remember where I was that day. I think we all do. There are just certain events that you can just immediately recall who you were with and what you were doing. June 2nd was one of those days.

I woke up and hopped out of bed, a few minutes behind, as usual. Snooze is the best and worst invention in the world. Needless to say, I was probably going to be late for work again. My cat, Einstein, was meowing in the kitchen as I threw on a clean outfit and rushed to feed him. Food spilled all over the floor and that little turd of a cat tried scarfing it down as fast as he could while I tried to clean it up. Now he’s not going to eat dinner for as much as he ate for breakfast. I’m already stressed at this point and now the clock says 7:47. I have thirteen minutes to get to work. THIRTEEN. Usually, if there isn’t any traffic, it takes me twenty minutes to get to work.

But I would never make it to work that day. Everyone was standing outside as I was rushing to the car. I nearly made it to the highway before I noticed that the sky had darkened. Complete daylight had vanished. Everyone on the road had stopped dead in their tracks, exited their vehicles, and turned their heads to the sky. I did the same. My palms started sweating and my heart was racing so fast that it felt like I had just run a marathon. And I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at.

It was so large that it had completely eclipsed the sky. Well, at least the city. As far as we could tell. But once it ‘landed’ it just hovered there. I could feel the people around me, waiting for what would come next. For the next hour, we all just watched. No one moved or said a word. A few whispers and the radio talk shows talking about this thing buzzed over the crowd. Slowly, people began to return to their homes, the traffic died down, and I went back to my cat. Work, obviously, wasn’t going to say anything about my absence. Not with this ship or whateverthehellitis in the sky.

Around 9:00PM was when things began to get weirder. The few family that I still had already called to make sure I was okay. They only saw the stories while I was living in this moment. It was right above my head. There were news outlets all around the city, asking rhetorical questions that no one knew the answer to. And then, the damn thing began to glow. But it didn’t come from lights. It pulsated like veins – scattering like lightning across the sky. This vessel was somehow alive. First it was an eerie red, and then green. I could hear the screams in the streets. Fear.

But, despite what I may or may not have told my family, I wasn’t afraid. I was more intrigued than anything. My neighbor and I just sat on our porch and watched the events unfold. Was this the end of the world? Maybe. But even if it was, we couldn’t stop it. So why worry?

An hour had passed before the middle of this thing opened and the otherworldly beings began to float down to Earth. These things, wherever they came from, were the most wild-looking things I had ever seen. They were human-like, but extremely tall and sheet white. Even their attire, which resembled robes, were the very same color. Some people in the streets called them angels, but that was doubtful. How do I know? One landed on my porch.

My neighbor ran inside. The more I thought about the possibility of an invasion, the more fearful I became. But this thing was so beautiful. It couldn’t be harmful, could it?

“You have been chosen,” it said in perfect English. This race must have learned our language before coming here. Or maybe I was just hearing it in my head. “You are a survivor. Your past pain will be rewarded. We have been watching.”

***

And that was the last that I remember. From what the others have told me – the other survivors – they grabbed up a few of us and brought us onto the ship, adorned us with their clothing, and enslaved the rest. First, it was the state, and then the entire West Coast, then the United States, and slowly but surely, the world. Each time, they would descend and choose their survivors, and then the warriors would take over.

There are so few of us. Maybe a few thousand or so. We stand watch over our areas and act as messengers from these creatures. If we fail or retaliate, they kill us. So many have died and I once cried for them. But now, I just do as they say with little thought. At least they let me keep Einstein. He’s the only thing that keeps me company anymore.

Four years ago to the date. I remember where I was that day. I think we all did. Well, those of us who are still here.

***

I’m so so sorry for being gone for so long! I was having issues with WordPress not wanting to work on my computer, but I’ve figured it out! 🙂

Quick Update: I’m almost done with the final edits of Preservation so be on the lookout for the release!

The House of Storm and Stars

It sat atop a hill. Perched. Looming over the town with an ominous energy. Tales told of a young woman bearing a fog that remained each day. But she found beauty in the turmoil, speaking spells and brewing potions for the town. At first, they rejected her ways and shunned her wares, but she assured them that she was made of earth and wished to connect the humans with their roots once again.

“I have grown fond of all things green,” she would say. “We have broken our connection with the Spirit of all that lives. I once traveled across the continent, healing others with the very earth at their feet. But I have decided to settle here and allow those who seek healing find me.”

Perhaps it was her soft voice or her small figure, but the town gradually grew to like the young witch. By summer, she told them her name. “Camellia, like the flower.” Suddenly, Camellia flowers began to bloom in the quiet little town.

From far and wide, people came to Camellia for healing and peace. She not only mended their physical wounds, but their spiritual wounds as well. Whomever her magic touched, flowers would bloom. Each night, she would return to her home and more of the fog would drift away. The twilight would be clear above, twinkling with other universes. On full moon nights, you could see her on the highest balcony, staring up at the sky.

Throughout the years, many tried to win Camellia’s heart. But each time, she politely refused. “My heart belongs to the Earth. I cannot do the work I do if I were to give my heart to you.” To those who were close to her healing knew that with each rejection, she was strengthening herself and her craft.

Although her face stayed young with each passing year, her wisdom grew. The townspeople protected her and understood that she was not of this world. She was a gift. If anyone wronged her, they would stand at her side… but she never needed them to fight for her.

“Nature creates beauty,” she explained. “But sometimes beauty can be deadly when trifled with.” A handful of patrons would ever test Camellia’s kindness, only to end up on the bad end of a curse.

Soon, the witch decided to train others in her craft. Those who were willing to give themselves to nature began to train with Camellia in the town. When they had been anointed in the ancient art, they could decide to remain in the town or spread magic elsewhere. In mere years, over fifty people of all ages became one with the earth, just as Camellia had.

Decades passed and more flowers spread past the town’s borders. The fog at the house on the hill had completely vanished and Camellia was joyful. But one day, she did not come down from her home. The townspeople became worried as a dark cloud formed over the shack, bringing cascading rain and booming thunder.

But no one had ever ventured to her home and they were afraid. Some thought that she had perished and the earth was upset. Others feared that she had become evil. Three women braved the trek up to the gates and attempted to peer inside. Nothing. The candles had been extinguished and it did not appear that anyone was home. One of Camellia’s disciples took the initiative to open the door, the other two following close behind her.

The floor seemed vacant. A thin blanket of dust laid upon it. The women hesitantly spread out and searched the home. It was in her room that they found it. A letter. Scrawled in black ink and addressed to the town.

My time is over. Thank you for accepting me. Think of my tears when the rain falls. Think of my voice when the wind blows. Think of my eyes when the stars twinkle. But think of my legacy. It is in your hands now. I go back to nature to watch over you. Until next time. Camellia.

The town adopted the name of Camellia for the woman who showed them how beautiful nature could be. Those she had trained continued her work and trained others. Today; psychics, empaths, and healers are descendants of that woman. Trust in yourself, and trust in your gift.

Quick Update from My Absence

Hi everyone! My deepest apologies for being so distant on here lately. I’ve been working on finishing Preservation‘s final edits, working on the Writing Class I plan to eventually roll out, and adjust to a new position at my full-time job. I’m planning on, hopefully, setting some time aside this weekend to write from a prompt or two for everyone here! My posts will be more sporadic until the New Year, but I will do my best to stay up on posting something!

I need to de-stress somehow! 🙂 I miss all of my followers and look forward to getting back into the swing of things after the holidays.

Writing Class

Greetings!

I have been pondering the possibility of creating a writing class to help those who aren’t sure how to start writing, get into writing, etc. Udemy is a website that I use quite frequently to take classes for my other hobbies and really liked the idea of sending out another perspective on writing.

Obviously, I would like to be as in-depth as possible. My goal is to cover everything a new or struggling writer would need to know. I’m brainstorming different ideas but would like your input as well! What are some topics you would like me to cover? Here is what I have so far.

  • Introduction (Who I am, How I got into writing, my recent novel, etc.)
  • The Writing Process
    • Finding Inspiration
    • Creating Characters
    • Creating a New World
    • Outlining your novel
      • Creating scenes, big moments, and plot twists
      • Character Growth
      • Foreshadowing (for future books or later in the novel)
    • First Draft
    • First Edit (Content)
      • Content – Quality vs. Quantity
      • Descriptions
      • Character Speech
    • Second Edit
      • Grammatical Edit (can use an Editor for this)
      • Reading Paragraphs backwards.
    • Third Edit
      • Prose Edit
      • How different from First Edit
      • Flow of Story
    • Additional Edits
  • Beta Readers
    • What are they and how do they help?Questions
    • Do you have to change everything they suggest?
    • Taking Constructive Criticism
  • Publishing Process (Self-Publishing)
    • Writing Software (Google Docs -> Microsoft Word -> Scrivener)
    • Why Scrivener? Publishing Outlets (Amazon, B&N, Kobo, Goodreads)
    • Book Cover (Fiverr.com vs. professional cover artists)
    • Writing a Synopsis
    • Finishing Touches
  • Marketing a Book
    • Pinterest
    • Writer’s Blog
    • Twitter
    • Facebook
    • Author Events
    • Connecting with Other Authors & Readers
  • Getting Started on your Next Book and Conclusion

Any other items that you think should be added on the list? Thank you in advance for the comments! 🙂 I will do my best to finalize the outline and get started on making the videos!