Thursday, August 28, 2014

A Writer's Journey- Is it really a dog eat dog world?

"It's often said that everyone has a novel inside of them and in most cases that's where it should stay" A comment posted after reading probably my last article on "The Guardian" website. Most of the comments are negative and posted by other so called 'proclaimed writers' whom has a knack for going straight for the juggler when offering what I assume to be constructive criticism-yeah right. "Have you read this crap?" Per a comment left on an article discussing Amanda Hocking's success as a self published writer. These comments appear to be a review of the article and or the author mentioned. Articles discussing writers whom has by the way become a success despite their struggles to complete a writing project with restless nights of late night writing, completed projects then rejection letter after rejection letter to countless literary agents and or publishers yet to have found their success at getting published through self publishing. The comments lack class whereas the posters seem bitter and can you say jealous much? It's sad that some get a kick out of stomping on a dream. To think that artists such as writers would be supporting one another especially when reading on any level should be appreciated. Hello...hence the take over of reality tv as being one's choice of entertainment vs picking up a book to read. Sometimes I get discouraged reading negative comments flooding the sites like 'The Guardian' a site that I thought was for writers. A site that offer ways to getting published, information on marketing your book and success stories of writers and authors such as the one mentioned above. Having written only a few short stories and screenplays for review and contests I have stories to tell and I'm going to tell them. Becoming a success story or not I love to write. I'm not going to let bitter writers, and or those negative people who like stomping on a dream keep me from accomplishing what I want to do in life which is--WRITE. Every writer's story won't be a tale every reader wants to read. Every writer won't be a Pulitzer prize-winning author. That's the upside to writing because somewhere out there someone will enjoy your story. Would it matter that it didn't result in a book deal? Became a self published success? Realizing that I'm going to take on the mentality of-- Write for you and if they love it or hate it, you would have accomplished something others could never imagine doing.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Turning Back Time

“Alfred, please don’t tell me you’re moving. I rely on you for my fresh fruit every morning.”

“Well it is getting harder to compete for business these days; I would rather move my business a little closer to home.” Samantha sighed.

“I’m sorry to hear that you’ll be leaving us. This means no more morning walks that would lead me to your stand. I’ll also miss the long chats we've shared over the past few weeks.”

Alfred smiled as he wiped down the counter top. “I’m certain we will see each other again, one day.”

Samantha nodded in agreement, “I sure hope so.”

As she left the fruit vendor’s stand an eerie feeling came over her. It was an unusual emotion to have and she disliked it. Samantha turned around to face the folks walking about. Her eyes held a questioning gaze, focusing on the fruit vendor-Alfred. That uneasiness felt earlier, subsided. It was replaced by a touch of sadness. Samantha hated to see him go. He was more than a good friend to her. Tears stung her eyes. Shaking the feeling away. Samantha wasn't as certain that their paths would cross again. As she walked along the boardwalk, a tune played over in her head. A tune that Samantha wasn't sure she heard before. It was such a sad tune. The thought of it playing in her head without a means to an end would soon frustrate her to a tight grip of insanity. How can one sing along the tunes of a song they never heard before?

Checking her watch, Samantha picks up her step. The faster she walked the further she felt she was getting. This was her normal routine, a walk on the beach, a stop for some fresh fruit, a chat with Alfred and she was home, all within the hour. On this day time seemed to hold back. She walked faster, her steps became longer, the path before her seemed to never end. Samantha wanted to go home, to flop down on her bed and close her eyes. Samantha closed her eyes and breathed in the salty air. She adored the seaside. A treasure she held and never wanted to let go. Samantha wanted to forever walk along the sandy path, where she would step her feet into the cool sands waiting for the tide to wash in the beach. Watching the water come so slightly up to her feet and wash up between her toes.

It had been such a short time. She recalled it being just yesterday when she finished unpacking. She packed up a lunch and headed for the beach. Samantha was thrilled to be so close to the shoreline. The sun was shining bright that day. She thought she would go in for a swim. Samantha swam for what it seemed like hours, but it was only a few minutes. Then the winds picked up and so did the tides. They were fierce, tugging and pulling. The faster she tried to swim back to shore, the harder it was to stay above the waters.

Everyone gets that feeling, when they know; that same eerie feeling came over her then like it did just now. Did she know? In her self-conscious mind Samantha remembered the peculiar feeling. To stop defeat, she just held it off, pushing back time. She wanted to hold on for as long as she could. With her head in her hands, she tried to shake back the tears. Like all unavoidable moments, she couldn't stop the tears from falling. As she sat there on the sandy beach sobbing a figure approached.

“I told you we would meet again.” Alfred stood above Samantha, smiling his eyes hidden behind dark shades. “We don’t have much time, we must go.”

“I don’t understand where are we going?” Samantha asked, in a daze of confusion.

“You don’t remember? We met here once before, you appeared on the beach, standing in that exact same spot. I told you it was time to go but you refused. There are many that are taken before they are ready. You pleaded for more time, so I gave it to you."

“I remember swimming, and the tides, they were strong. I couldn't breathe. I swam as hard and as fast as I could. Finally I gave up; I was so tired. It wasn't much more that I could do.”

“Samantha, as long as you understand that this is no longer your home. It is time for us to move on.”

“So all of this time you've been here waiting for me until I was ready?" Alfred reached out his hand to Samantha. She held out her hand and he pulled her up. "I am ready to go home.” Samantha points upward. “I am going up there aren't I?” she questioned.

“Yes Samantha, you made it.”

Thursday, May 29, 2014

The Sky is Falling

They all stood around, a crowd in one spot in the east side parking lot. It was only 2pm and yet the darkness surrounded them. There were awwws and oohs as each of them stared up into the sky watching the sun turn into blackness that cracked and began to fall from the sky. Skye looked upon her daughter who had fallen asleep atop of a car, she draped a soft throw around her and noticed an old woman hair white and skin full of wrinkles she did not stop her eyes some what hidden behind her thick lenses and black rimmed glasses. The old lady walked on never taking her eyes off of Skye, which placed a sudden chill of strangeness within her. She thought of it odd that the old lady would be walking alone and her stare upon Skye was unbearable. Afraid the woman was still looking Skye moved to the other side of the car, her hand now at the sides of her daughter, holding her daughter's hand, needing to feel the warmth that rose from her. Skye looked down at her daughter who was sleeping soundly in the midst of all the turmoil that was around them.

A loud scream from the crowd jerked Skye's attention back to that of the reality that was evident. The world was truly ending. More screams and shouts arose from the crowd. The blackness that was once a beautiful ray of light that shined down on them was evidence of the days that lay ahead. Skye gazed up at the blackness her grip on her daughter's hand tightening as realization set in. A piece of the blackness broke free and drifted away, not falling but slightly hovering in to a gravity pull. It resembled a crystal, maybe a part of a puzzle that formed in the sky. Everyone gazed at this sight, mouths open, voices barely heard, time seemed to stop as the crystal that broke free began shooting towards them and in lightening speed. Skye thought, does everyone, not just in the city or in this state but the country witnesses to this beginning to an end?

The screams louder sent everyone running...scattering around like roaches when the light is turned on. Skye picked up her daughter from the hood of the car and ran like a frightened little girl. Tears ran down her cheeks. She sobbed and a lump caught in her throat her heart was racing and all the wind in her was knocked out when a bolt of lightening struck down, hitting the pavement in front of her. The ground began to shake and break a part. Skye screamed...her own voice unrecognizable. Skye's eyes bulged out from their sockets, her lips trembled, her hold now lighter than ever around her daughter, whom still slept soundly and peacefully. If Skye's mind did not wander elsewhere she would have concerned herself more with her daughter's ability to stay asleep through all that has happened. The light now no longer at a distance shined down upon them. Skye to afraid to open her eyes covered her and her daughter with the throw . There were no more screams or footsteps running across the pavement. It was as if everyone had calmed down...maybe this was nothing but a dream. When Skye lifted the blanket she would be back in her home facing the river where she could hear the songs of the birds and the chirping of crickets out on her patio. The light was no more as Skye threw the throw from over her head. She looked at her daughter...asleep and at peace no worries of the craziness upon them.