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Inquiring Minds, Writing Challenges

What does a guy like me who writes Fantasy likes to do in his spare time when he has it?

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 The Renaissance Fair of Course!

Yes that is me in the background  wearing that ridiculous fencing  get up and kicking the ass out of probably a seventeen year old kid while looking like an idiot with balloons on my head….but I won! I parried and thrusted like no bodies business.

The Renaissance Fair is every Fantasy writers dream! Right? C’mon Right..

Yes, I like the Renaissance Fair….so what! ….  And NO I do not wear tights and dress up with a sword at my side or wear chain mail and talk in a Medieval accent.  (even though I would secretly like to very much)

I do enjoy the atmosphere…it’s almost like you have stepped back into the past some 500-700 yrs ago… Except first you must plop down the  $ 19.95 admission price  just before you can cross the moat over the drawbridge and enter under the portcullis (through the gates). But just wait after that it gets better!

There’s entertainment galore! Archery, Throwing Axes,Fencing (as seen above), Jousting (not me but by actors, I wish),humorous skits, music and merriment, drinking,eating…..oh the food…I die for a big Turkey Leg in hand while I’m walking down the thorough fares of the town as the vendors hawk their wares (no I don’t want to buy any tights..now leave me the fuck alone…I mean fuck off my dear sir praythee well), or how about crossing a bridge and getting insulted by an ugly troll (is there any other kind) that lives underneath…..true.. scouts honor. No I did not punch him…the courts never proved  a thing.

One of the first things you run into if your lucky enough….WAIT what the hell am I saying?  If your UNLUCKY enough, is the MayPole Girls..I took this video myself as they accosted me as I walked by them…check the video out HERE. Needless to stay the experience was very disturbing…avoid them at all costs….just check out the very short video of them and you’ll see what I mean…creepy.  I got the hell out of that area after the video was taken. My family abandoned me..traitors!

I have only gone twice so far just starting in 2008.  I’m thinking of going next year if time and money  allows. I also may participate in the Archery Tournament that is held  there on occasion. I’m a pretty fair shot and I think I can hold my own.  If you end up one of the top Three Archers in the contest, the title of Ranger is bestowed upon you forever at the fair…yeah I’m a nerd like that.

All in all it’s a good time to be had.  Money well spent. I was lucky that both times we had went it had been a sunny gorgeous day because the Festival is open rain or shine. I highly recommend it if you are looking for something to do in the summer time. There are several Festivals such as these spread across various states which run usually from late June through September…here is their website of the one I went to in Holly,MI called The Michigan Renassaince Festival. Below are a few other pics from our little adventure back in time:

Knights Riding out to Present themselves to the Queen prior to the Joust
Lively band full of bag pipes,drums, and the merriment I was talking about
The Asshole of Troll who flings insults at you at the bridge..but he’s a good singer …for a Troll that is.

If you have ever gone to one of these I would like to hear about your own experiences good or bad. Sir Philip of the Crows bids you good day.

Inquiring Minds, Stories and Story Excerpts

Flash Fiction Story – ‘Flight through the Forest’

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Marek ran hard through the thick underbrush, wary of outlying limbs or wet patches of dew covered  grass. No need to go down in a tumble, then he would should surely be dead. Almost there, he thought wildly.  Almost there, was still not near enough.  Do these things ever tire? The gods know I am, he thought.

He could hear their caterwauling screeches all around him as they communicated  to each other in some inane language he couldn’t began to understand, cooperating, trying to box him, trying to trap him. Intelligent little bastards, he wouldn’t have thought as much. Out the corner of his eye he saw a flit of shadowed forms appear and then disappear suddenly out of the darkened mists which collected in clumps on the forest floor like a rolling wispy snake crawling across the ground.

They were gaining on him.  If they surrounded him he would be hard pressed to fight through them.  One creature no problem,two no problem,hell not to boast but ten would probably be no problem for his strong sword arm,  but to his estimation there were hundreds. So he ran like the dog he was.

It didn’t help that as he ran he was hindered, with one hand having to hold the large package that he was hired to steal back from a temple of zealots buried deep in this god forsaken forest he now ran in. Half his job was done, now he was entrusted to return the package to its rightful owner, King Erris; whose contract he had  foolishly taken on. The second half of the deal was looking to be harder than the first had been.

Knowing of his reputation as a cunning fighter and fearless warrior they had offered him a payment of  twenty thousand in gold, literally a Kings ransom indeed! How could he refuse! The few meager coppers he had in his pouch along with the pitcher of ale in his hand when the King’s men approached him in the bar had been his only possessions besides the sword and the clothes on his back. The meager coin and ale looked more inviting at this moment, not to mention the big hipped serving  wench who had been giving him the eye all through the night while he drank his weight in spirits.

Let this be a lesson learned if he survived. Some jobs were just to big for any amount of gold to be had.

The King said the treasure stolen by the religious fanatics was more priceless than anything, worth more than a thousand kingdoms he had told him. If this treasure was not returned, kingdoms would fall, men would die, destinies would be denied. What was this treasure that the King had stolen from , Marek had asked. The King would not say even when Marek had pressed him. Only that he would know it  when he came upon it. Four other contracts such as him had already failed, some individuals like him, others who had went in teams of three or four.  Only one man had returned of them all, empty-handed and had died three days later from his inflicted wounds but not before giving them the valuable information of where the treasure was being held inside the temple.

Know it Marek soon did , as he had crept into the inner sanctum of the black veined marbled temple after scaling up the almost vertical walls to the uppermost parapets where he was told it would be housed in a circular chamber guarded by the blackest of demon dogs you never would wish to encounter. The three dogs surrounded its circumference , all clad in steel mail over their entire body with the color of the darkest pitch stealing the  light as it hit its surface.  Sharp canines dripped spittle from their massive muzzles to burn like acid upon the stones they walked.

Marek had quickly rushed one catching it by surprise sending it  over the edge to tumble and bounce against the hard stone far below.  The other two well, they had been a little tougher to deal with not being caught by surprise.

Luckily they had never been trained to work together against a common foe. As they advanced on him they actually more than once snarled and bit at each other to see who could get to kill Marek first.

He had used their dislike for each other to his  advantage by keeping one always in front him with the other behind its companion  causing the rear dog to lash out at the other dog’s heels in frustration.

He had  taken the front demon dog in the eye with the point of his sword when it was distracted sending it into a wild spasm as his sword entered into its brain and scrambled it like eggs in a frying pan.

The other dog had advanced on Marek slowly, weary now that its two companions had been so  quickly dealt with by this new adversary.

Marek knew he had to dispatch this thing soon before any others came along, but he didn’t dare go in for a strike to the thing’s mailed body and risk the creatures bite or even drippings of its spittle on him which could cause him to lose the use of his arm in an instant. So he did what he was good at, he ran.

The creature thought him scared and running for his life so it had become emboldened and ran after him. Marek ran faster and gained some distance on him and then he suddenly stopped. The creature’s momentum carried it forward and with blade held at eye level, Marek jumped high into the air toward the creature as it came in its headlong rush at him. He came down in a stabbing arc to the top of the creature’s head to bury his blade in deep dead center between the dogs ears punching through  the black mail covering its skull. It quivered and died.

With the last of the beasts dispatched he had entered through the bronze doors to the inner chamber.  There inside on a raised dais made of white marble inside a crystal bowl of the palest blue was a baby wrapped in a red silk blanket. Nothing else had been in the room chamber save that. So he knew what the treasure was as the King said he would.

These creatures that chased him now were different than the foul dogs he had faced. These things seemed almost human in nature but twisted with thin whip like bodies and elongated distorted  limbs propelled them through the forest after him. He only caught glimpses of them as he ran but that had been enough to spur him to a faster pace.

Through it all the baby had been as  quiet as a mouse not saying a word. It just looked up at him as he had run with its deep blue eyes with all the confidence in the world it seemed, that Marek would carry him from out of this place, safe and sound back to his home. For very personal reasons  one being his own neck, Marek didn’t want to let the little imp down.

The day was coming up fast as the sun was just breaking the horizon ahead through  the trees. Soon he would be able to see clearly what was chasing him. The trees were becoming more spread out and the vegetation less dominate in places. He was nearing the edge, he may yet have a chance. These creatures he was told, feared the desert, that was why the other man had made it out and back to tell the tale. He just had to get there first.

Then the thing happened he did not wish to have happened, his right foot caught the edge of a wet moss-covered rock throwing him off-balance. He instinctively rolled into the fall across the ground smothering the baby in a loose  but tight protective cocoon with his arms and hands as he did so. Marek ended up on his back looking up at the nighttime sky  through the forest trees, it was a dim blue with a wisp of white creeping in.

He heard the chattering of many voices draw near. Marek tried to stand but was met with pain in his left ankle. It felt like he had twisted it. Gods that ale would taste good right about now, he thought idly.

They drew in closer, from behind, to the left, right and now they closed the circle, in the front. His exit to the east was closed.

He forced himself to stand. fighting through the pain and drew his sword, leaning against a nearby tree for support. He saw an army of them crawling over the ground to him. Their eyes started to glow gold in the burgeoning light of day as they neared.

He looked down at the baby he held still with its eyes blue and confident in him. The treasure to topple Kingdoms the King had said, for destinies to be lost or made.  What will they say of me little one?

Marek reached out a finger to touch the little one’s cheek. The babe held up its to  little hand to grab it. Marek noticed a tattoo, better yet a birthmark it seemed on its small forearm in the shape of a Crescent moon with a pale mist of cloud passing in front of it.

Marek made a sharp intake of breath. Could it be. The Redeemer?

He had heard the prophecies but he had never thought to see it come in his lifetime.

He gripped his sword tighter in his hand and looked out at the horde. They were all but twenty feet away in tight circle about him. They had stopped. They were waiting for me to turn him over to them.

They stood motionless shoulder to shoulder. A hair could not have slid between the space they allowed.

Arms ending with three sharp talons rested on the ground twitched occasionally, perhaps in anticipation of his imminent death at their hands and the fulfillment of their task the creatures had been sent for..

They did not chatter at each other or at him.  They just looked at him with cold dead stares. Their thin slit likes mouths were all closed tight in a devilish grin as if to say game over my friend.

He did the only thing he could. He tigtened his grip on his sword and the little one and grinned right back and said,

“Come on.” He whispered softly.

The babes tattoo began to burn bright against its  flesh, the moon glowing on its skin as if set high in a nighttime sky.

The pain in his ankle was gone, his strength had returned tenfold.

He raised his sword high and came at them with a growl…

Inquiring Minds, Writing Challenges

BadAss Woman Match UP! WRITING CHALLENGE.

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Well, the votes are in. I asked my readers a few weeks ago to check out the sixteen Bad Ass Woman of Fantasy and Horror I listed in my Blog to see which TWO they would wish to see in a fight and to find who would win (at least in my mind anyways).  After tallying the  over overabundance of votes from my readers and followers we have a MATCH UP!

Actually I am being sarcastic.  I did not get ONE VOTE from any of my followers or readers to my page. Thank you very much.

I guess BADASS WOMAN are not that  important in the world!  No respect I tell you..Oh well, be that as it may, I promised a fight and I’m gonna give you a fight DAMMIT! Besides this was not only a challenge to my readers, it was also to myself as a writer to work on creating good fight sequences….practice practice practice ya know.

I randomly pulled two names from my list out of a hat for the bout and came up with Ta Da !:  Trinity from the Matrix  Movie VS   Lara Croft from Tomb Raider the game (and movies I guess):  I think  that is actually a pretty even match up considering the rest of the women on the list. So here it goes below!

Rumble in the Jungle:

Trinity leaned back in the soft black leather chair as Neo  adjusted her straps.

Neo came in close and whispered in her ear. “I think you’ll like this program. I made it myself, you might say it’s a fantasy of mine.” Neo  smiled at her.

Trinity gave him a curious smile back but said nothing as she settled into the chair.

“We’re ready Neo, we can go anytime.”   Link said standing behind them next to the control panel.

Neo nodded to Link and  gave Trinity a light kiss on the lips. “Ready?” he asked her.

“Always – I wanna see how good of a programmer you’ve become my dear.” she grinned at him challengely.

Neo shoved the connection port into the back of Trinitys skull…and her world went white.

5 milliseconds later …Loading Training Program 4212.10. Jungle Scene – Sequencing..Overlaying…Initiationing Insertion –

Trinity found herself standing next to a slow running stream on a  fallen log mottled with green moss and overrun with  brown fungi clinging to its bark.  A myriad of different trees surrounded the spot she stood, most  reached fifty to hundred feet in the air with a few others reaching higher yet up to maybe two-hundred feet or more  high above the main canopy of the  the jungle she now seemd to be in.   – Dense foliage spread out along the ground forming the landscape at ground level enveloping her in a cocoon of rich green plant life.

After taking in the beautiful scenery, the second thing that struck Trinity was that it was  hot as hell, sweat was all already starting to collect and drip from her. She looked down at what she was wearing and had to smile.

On her feet were a set of sturdy brown hiking boots, light but durable with probably good traction.  A pair of skin tight brown cotton shorts came up just shy of her belly button to ride on her hips, the shorts  reached no lower than mid thigh level if that. A well made sports bra of the same brown color  covered the top of her.  Two highly polished silver semi-autos each with a fifteen round clip were strapped to her on either side of her breasts tucked just underneath her armpits. She also noticed she had two throwing knives  strapped to each wrist as well.

Neo you naughty boy.

“Why have you been following me, who sent you?”  a womans voice asked from out of the jungle unseen.  A british woman’s voice by the sound of it, Trinity thought. What is Neo playing it. I”ll play along…for now.

“Just out fishing, see.”    Trinity pointed at the stream as if to say, isn’t it obvious,  and gave the woman where ever she was a wide smile; Trinity thought perhaps twenty meters to her left on an out cropping of rock downriver behind a some dense bushes but she had to be sure.

The woman laughed , “Most people use a pole when fishing. I don’t have time for games, tell me who sent you.”

Got her, Trinity thought, definitly twenty meters up on the cropping and defiinitely British. I didnt know Neo had a thing for British women, she mused.

“Well I’m not most people.” Trinity casually walked over to the stream and watched the water for a moment until she spied what she was looking for. Lighting quick she bent and reached into the stream and pulled out a struggling striped fish at the base of its tail. It was as big as her head, Trinity held it up  for the mystery  woman to see. That oughta impress her.

“I must say I’m impre-” The brish woman voice cut off as Trinity  dropped the fish and spun towards the sound of the woman’s voice and let go with one of the throwing knives on her wrist towards the spot. Trinity’s knife  flew straight and true  and hit dead center into the foliage. She was greeted with a solid thunk as it stuck into wood.

Dammit, Trinity thought,  missed.

Trinity sprinted directly  towards the spot along the stream weaving  as she did so whoever it was could not get a bead on her at a distance. She pulled both her guns at the same time firing as she ran directly into the bush ahead of her.

No one jumped out at her. No one fired at. No one said a word. Hmmm,  perhaps I got her. Trinity  approached the bush and came to a halt in front of it.  Most of the bush was destroyed, leaves hung in tatters from its branches with not much left to speak of to call it a bush. The blade she had thrown was stuck deep into the base of it, but no dead woman behind  it.  Trinity realize she had  emptied both her clips from her guns into the now very dead bush and  she had not been given a single extra clip to replace them from the vast inventory of supplies she had been given. Thanks Neo, love you to.

“Just a fishing eh?” the womans voice now seemed to be coming from where she had been standing before  – perhaps behind that tall  thick cacao tree some ten feet beyond the point.

“Didnt know you needed a gun to go fishing, I estimate you have no bullets left in that gun and only one of those knives left on your person unless I’m mistaken.”  The woman sounded very sure of herself , Trinity thought. She was begininning not to like her very much. Hope your enjoying the show Neo.

The woman who was only a voice until now suddenly stepped from behind the tree Trinity had suspected. She was a fair complected woman with very long dark brown hair done up in a  single braid down her back.  She was wearing pretty much  the same outfit as Trinity but with her guns strapped at mid-thigh but  less the knives and was just as tall Trinity..  Trinity saw she had a small grey metal  cube  in her left hand which she held lightly with her thumb hovering over two buttons and she was very pretty. Neo.

“Now, I will ask you one last time, who are you and who sent you, please don’t make me ask you again.” she said grinning at her.

“PAUSE PROGRAM” Trinity said aloud.  All was quiet.,no jungle heat assaulted her body,  no birds chirped, no branches swayed in the wind high up in the canopy,  the stream was frozen in its bed not moving, most of all the bitch wasn’t talking, she was just standing there not moving. I am not jealous, she told herself she’s just a program.

“Scenery is nice but is this best you can do Neo, a jungle girl archeologist in tight brown shorts and a  pony tail with a british accent?” She said to the forest knowing he could hear her.

“Let’s get this over with. RE-Commence PROGRAM” she said. Sound and movement along with the oppressive heat returned.

“My name is Trinity, and Neo sent me to kick your ass. Satisfied” Trinity said.  Time to try something new even he hasn’t  see me do yet.

She slowy pulled the small throwing blade from its holder on her wrist and held it up to reflect the light through the trees then just let it drop to the ground as if to say to the other woman,  See I mean you know harm.  Trinity concentrated then very hard on the metal of the blade she had just dropped, the look of it , the feel, the weight. She felt it.  Ready. She had a theory she wanted to try now.

She drew both of her guns and and pointed them at the woman ” You forgot about the extra bullet in each of the chambers” . Trinity blinked and the woman suddenly wasn’t there. Just empty space where she had once been followed by a popping sound.

Trinity whirled to her right in a heart beat when she heard another popping sound not far away and fired both her guns. Click with the Hammer on both guns. Nothing and Nothing again.

“You were bluffing, why you little bugger.”  She smiled again at Trinity with that wicked grin she was beginning to come to hate already.

“How are you doing that?” Trinity asked calmly behind her sun glasses as she lowered her guns.

“Aah, a little thing I picked up from a Techie friend of mine, certified genuis really.”  She wiggled the little box she held in her hand.

“It creates an inversion in space-time in a localized area and pulls me into it and pops me out the other side. Kinda tickles.” she said and smiled  again at Trinity.

“It’s kind  of fun, you  oughta  try it”  she smiled again Trinity.

“Thanks, maybe I will.”  The knife Trinity had thrown slammed into the womans hand piercing the palm holding the small cube.

Trinity ran for the woman has she sat clutching her bleeding left hand. The woman looked up and saw her running towards her and went for one of her guns. Trinity did the only thing she could do, and that was to throw one of her own guns directly at her. The woman was good, she had her gun drawn and was just about to pull the trigger before the butt of Trinity’s gun caught her full in the chin propelling back and hard to the jungle floor.

 Trinity walked over to her and shoved her with her foot so she laid faced up. She squatted down and grabbed her by her pony-tail and slapped her lightly on the face.

“Wake up.” Trinity slapped her a little harder. The woman moaned and her eyes fluttered opened.

“Now, I wanna know something . What’s your name?” Trinity asked

“You don’t know? It’s Lara, Lara Croft”  the woman said weakly.

“Well Lara Croft, I’m sorry to say this, but it’s Game Over”  The last thing Lara saw was Trinity’s fist connecting with her face.

Training Program 4212.10. Jungle Scene Concluded – Initiationing De-Insertion – System Purge of Program – Ready for acquisition of new program

Trinity opened her eyes slowly, readjusting to the momentary vertigo sometimes felt coming out.

“She’s back” Link said.

“Well, how did you like my new program I will admit I concentrated more on the visuals than the fighting but it was meant to be a strategic training session more so than a combat one and I had to have the setting just so, and what was that with the knife at the end…I’ve never seen you do that before.” Neo asked looking intently at her.

“I can see you worked hard on the visuals.  But I still kicked the visual’s ass, as for the knife, every girl’s got to have  her secrets now doesn’t she.” Trinity leaned in as if she was going to kiss him, but instead got up out of the chair and walked down  the gangplank to go back to her quarters.

She gave Neo a backwards glance, “You coming, I have to change first, maybe into some shorts, it’s so hot in here”  and then she continued on.

Neo followed after and Link just smiled to himself alone next to his console.

Stories and Story Excerpts

RoadKill story excerpt…

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Below you will find a scene selection from the Novella I have written called “Roadkill” that I have recently submitted to a publisher for consideration.  It is basically about a family man dealing with  a fatal encounter in the middle of snowstorm and  the aftermath of that as he tries to protect and save his family from a maelevolent creature bent on making his life hell. Enjoy.

             The thing had waited long enough, suffered long enough. There needed to be balance, balance, always balance, for balance was life.

            It crouched in the snow. The snow had fallen in a flurry all around it while it had crouched and waited. The cold had come as the night had grown deeper and still more snow came and the wind howled in the trees around it and still it had crouched and waited. What was snow? What was cold? They were dead things while it was very much alive.

            Looking up from its vantage in the back yard of their home it had seen that the last of the lights had died inside the house sometime ago and knew that they all slept. All was quiet. Quiet was good. It released itself from its crouch for it was time to retrieve the female. It moved to the front.

The garage was dark where Elisa’s car and Adrian’s truck were parked. The wind and snow beat against the big garage door wanting to get inside. It wanted inside as well but it knew the rules. Rules more ancient than what it was, but remembered none-the-less. It knew the rules could always be twisted and bent however.  In its own way it was already inside so no rules need apply. The female would come to it when it was all done and they would leave together. Already it was beginning to itch. It couldn’t remember the last time it had itched.  It would lose itself before too long and go the way of all the others.   The balance had to be restored and soon if it itched already. But the rules must always be obeyed lest it forfeit everything. It had lived too long to forget that. It reached out its mind to inside the garage and the bounce back came, weak but there. Enough it thought, enough to do what needed to be done.

                                                                                                           **********************************************************************

 The lid to the garbage bin in the garage shifted upward slightly then lifted as if pushed from something inside. The lid lifted more almost to an inch high crack .The crusted and bloodied mottled gray dead flap of skin slid out and dropped to the floor of the garage. It moved along the floor of the garage in the dark in slow inchworm like movements towards the inner door to the house. It had no trouble in manipulating the concrete step that led up to the door for it just slid up the vertical side of the step like a snail would and proceeded on. It moved along the threshold of the door pushing and probing into the crack. It found a place seven inches from the doorframe that let its form fit into it just barely. It oozed under the opening and slipped inside the darkened house.  It needed no eyes to see, for it was a puppet doing its master’s bidding who saw everything, even in death as it held onto the last bit of life in the cells that dwelled in the dead flap of skin it served.

It was slow going but it reached the top of the landing on the floor where they all slept. It must hurry for it knew its time was drawing to a close.  It inched up to the room of the parents. The door was shut.  It sensed heavy breathing from that of a deep sleep coming from the room. It could enter if it wished easily and unheard. The opening at the bottom was even wider on this door. But it continued on to the child’s room for it wanted the small female not the other.

The door to the child’s room was wide open. A small nightlight plugged into an outlet near the floor gave off a very faint blue glow to light the room.  It entered. It sensed two presences, the child and an animal. There was an animal with her.  The animal had not sensed it yet. Good. It would take care of the animal. It crawled up at the foot of the bed. The child’s breathing was deep as well. The animal lay across the girl’s chest deep asleep, twitching every once in while on top of her. All it needed was contact then it would be over. One of the girl’s arms lay on the outside over her blanket with her hand down at her side.

It sprung. It fell against the top of her and pressed itself down onto her skin. Nerve endings responded while neural transmitters fired throughout the little girl’s body. Her back arched up from her bed as she slept. A small moan escaped her lips as if she was in pain. It continued to do its work on her as it was bided to do. It was re-mapping her, not fully, no not fully at all. The mapping would not hold but it would enough for now. It was almost dead itself and only a shell of its former self but it would give what it could. Suddenly it was being attacked, being bitten by the creature that had been lying on the little girl. It felt no pain as the creature bit into its dead flesh. It felt nothing. It was done.  Its job was over. The little girl ceased in her moaning and contortions and settled down in her bed. The flap of skin came away dead, held in the cat’s mouth. Tonks flung it to the floor.

                                                                                                                         ****************************************************************

 Tonks looked down towards the floor from where it laid and eyed the flap of skin, not trusting it to not move again. Tonks sniffed the air and didn’t like what he smelled. Suddenly the little girl raised herself up from her bed bent at the waist and looked around the room. Tonks looked over thoughtfully at her with its big green eyes and then looked down at the flap of skin again as if trying to say, “Hey look at my prize I killed for you”.  Sylvia reached out as if to pet Tonks on the head but instead wrapped him tight around his neck with her little fingers and flung him across the room to hit the far wall hard and slide down it.  Tonks didn’t stir or utter a noise from where he had landed. All was quiet

Inquiring Minds

Fear, Fantasy, and Feelings in my Writing

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I have finally submitted my story “Roadkill”  to a publisher for consideration! As the submission process goes I will not find out for about 90days what the results will be. So wish me luck!   If you wish to see a sampling of that story please look to my Blog category above entitled “Story Excerpts”  to find it.(or the blog directly above this one)   Below is my latest blog on what makes me tick as writer somewhat and for you the potential reader get to know me a little bit better and give you a sense of  where I’m coming from…

Fear, Fantasy, and Feelings in my writing? Why whatever do you mean Mr. Wardlow? Well first, I am not talking about what I actually write about. I am not talking about the sentence I write that creates a scene for you, the reader, to get you into the mood for what’s coming next around the corner. I am not talking about the fear which may trickle into your brain and tickle the mind into wanting to look over your shoulder as you walk a lonely trail or to look a little closer at that open closet door in your room at night as you lay in bed.

I am not talking about the fancies or fantasies which may take you from the daily mundane life that you may lead to a magical arena where possibilities of life abound with but a belief in it wholeheartedly.
I am not talking about feelings for a character or a conflict that has your soul invested in those bounded pages (or digitized pages) you hold in your hands as long as the story lasts (may it be forever).

No, I am talking about MY fears, MY Fantasies, MY feelings when it comes to writing. All three have been present and continue to be present in me when I write.

First let’s take Fear. Isn’t that a feeling? Yep, you betcha. So why I do I call out it separately. Well for me, it’s what drives me. It’s a big Neon Light. A big “F” blinking in my brain at times, for awhile though it was what want drove everything else away about my writing. It pushed away my passion for it; it pushed away the wonder of it. It held me down like giant’s foot pressed heavy upon my chest. Even now I am wondering as I write this, who I am to be talking about myself, who am I to think I can talk about myself, who am I to think anyone cares what I have to say matters. Who am I? Then the fear goes away because this is who I am. I think there is value in what I say. Take it or leave it. So I am glad that I have that fear from time to time. I am glad it is there, ready to creep in. I believe it keeps me and my work real ultimately in the end.

Now comes the Fantasy part; for me it’s allowing my brain to access the childlike part of me. It is the what-ifs in life, the endless scenarios, and the dreams most people seem to find only when their heads hit the pillow at night when they fall to sleep. I often get lost in thought on a story or have an errant thought meandering through my mind from a scene all day long. I remember my mother when I was very young in life taking me to see an ear specialist because she thought I was going deaf. So often I would ignore her unintentionally when she talked to me directly. (I past all the hearing tests with flying colors) I have always wanted more to the story of my life than what I was born into as so many of us probably do. I found this escape through daydreaming, movies, reading, and writing. It’s my form of meditation in life.

Finally we come to Feelings, what a word that is. I cannot sit down to write unless I feel something. I cannot put pen to paper unless I’m inspired to write, or so I thought. That thought in the beginning of my desire to be a writer was my Achilles heel. It was a self-made self-induced writer’s block to my psyche and my performance. I don’t wait for that feeling anymore. I found you can’t if you wish to be a serious writer and for the longest time I didn’t get that.
Sting, one of my favorite songwriters and singers said pretty much the same thing. He said  (I’m paraphrasing here), that writing is the most difficult thing he does but he doesn’t wait to be inspired. He goes after it and basically wrestles it to the ground until it submits to his will. So I guess that’s the best analogy for what I do. I wrestle the story to the ground and put it in a choke hold until it passes out. You’re mine you little bastard.

I look to great things happening in my life. I expect it be hard fought to get what I want. I know the odds. I look forward to the challenge. I have the tools to get me there, my fear keeps me sharp, my daydreaming keep me supplied with endless ideas, and my feelings keep me grounded.

As they always say, if it was easy everyone would do it

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Crow Waits

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I am sure you have seen my avatar the Crow on my Blog and other places such as my facebook page so I thought it only fitting to create a poem to commemorate it…so here goes..hope you enjoy…by the way my weekly blog in the Inquiry Section of my blog which hits on here every Wednesday…enjoy the poem below.

The Crow Waits

I see it on high sitting in a tree, a Crow amongst the sparse fall leaves
that yet hang to the branches, even though winter fast approaches,
no one told them it seems that they are dead and should already be on their way.

The crow with its pitted black eyes knows me it seems, for it calls my name
across the wind while I languish on the ground in my own blood which spills
from my body and forms around me like a macabre picture frame.

Funny thing, how the crow knows my name, a simple carrion bird waiting for
this warrior’s death so it can pick me clean and leave nothing but my bleached bones,
rusted armor, and a forgotten sword as my only legacy.

Long has the battle been gone from this place I now rest in, the victors have gutted me
like a fish on a stone and left me to the flies and the maggots to fester inside.

But yet shall I live, ever stubborn to die and only the Crow truly knows why.
I hear it laughing at me, calling me a fool for an adventure I sought full of folly
with only death to be met at its end.

It has seen many a fool I am sure and feasted contently before the sun has set.
But still I live! You will not have me fool or not!

So sit your perch and wait for you shall not have me this day or the next,
for even if I should pass these earthly bounds so shall my shade pick up
my blade and strike you down!

The sun has set and the night grows cold, the crow sits in his tree and
waits;  for it has seen many a warrior born and bred and knows full well their
strength,courage and the valor which fills their head, but it knows when dead is dead.

Inquiring Minds

Ain’t no rest for the wicked…..

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Welcome to my first blog page post . Like my title?  definitely not getting any rest and I’m only wicked if I haven’t had my coffee in the morning.

This is my first attempt at blogging so bear with me. I am a quick learner…but until I learn to navigate this thing it will probably be pretty uneventful on here for awhile. Even though I am a quick learner there is so much time in a day or night.

I am currently in the process of becoming a well renowned Horror/Fantasy/Sci Fi author (for now you must label me a writer) and this is my first step into marketing myself to the people who might be reading my stuff one day. Hopefully sooner than later if the publishers like my first submission I am plan on turning in this week actually. (won’t find out for about 90 days as the  submission process goes)

What submission do you say?  ….well it’s a nice little scary story entitled “RoadKill”. It’s about a man named Adrian who has to face his own fears from his past  first before he can face the thing that has kidnapped a family member. Will he succeed in both or fail in both…Do horror stories have happy endings? Maybe you will find out if this thing gets published.

In the coming months I will let keep you up to date on where I am at in the submission process…these things take a while but I’m always pessimistically optimistic about the events in my life…

In the mean time I am working on my next story called “A Dark Place” which I am about 9 pages into. I plan about tripling that number before I’m done. I tend to write long when it comes to stories, usually novella length (17k to 30K words). I will also keep you up to date with my progress in that as well.

I will also try to keep you entertained with some writing of my mine,  such as some of my darker poetry which entails aspects of horror, fantasy, and the occasional dark matter in life.

My style is a work  in a progress but I’m getting there.  Hope you enjoy!

I will try hard to balance writing my stories, learning this frigging blogging mumbo jumbo, and being consistent at least on weekly basis with a new blogging showing more of who I am and what I am about through my writing.

Thanks for listening…and watch out for the shadows in the corners ..things like to hide there and just stare at you.