Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Creative Non-Fiction Fun

My (hopefully humorous) take on what marriage is like at my school. 

            Affection spreads at the rate of zombie viruses in movies at BYU. In class, chances are someone within arm’s length has a wedding band on. Keep in mind, this is only the married students I’m talking about here. Add in the engaged and the seriously dating and it skyrockets to epidemic levels of infection. Over twenty thousand lost souls: the size of a small city.
            The symptoms include cuddling in open spaces, blushing, random grinning for no apparent reason, constant talking about a member of the opposite sex, filled in weekends, bags under the eyes from texting to two in the morning, and the list continues. If exhibiting more than one of these, don’t panic. Endure the incubation period with a brave face. Just try to remain quarantined so as not to infect others.
            Winter is the safest time of year. The love zombies are generally kept indoors and the unpredictable weather makes it more difficult for them to plan outings to entrap the rest of us with ‘group dates’ and saved seats at firesides. Do not be fooled. Their only goal is to make everyone else like them until the entire campus is filled to the brim. Spring is the worst, even the plants pair off. Avoid it if possible. If unavoidable… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but you might as well give in. It’ll be easier that way. 

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Old Spice Crossover

I bet if Old Spice got Tom Hiddleston as their spokesman, they’d sell a lot more…

Just picture it:

Tom(as Loki): “Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using ladies scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on Stark Tower with the god your man could smell like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it’s the tesseract with the power to make the mortals kneel. Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. Loki’d!”

I think it would be fun. Anyways! School is officially back in session and hopefully, I'll have a few more posts up. Later ya'll <3

Friday, August 17, 2012

Another Video !

Loki tribute! Woooo~

Yeah, I know, I know, it's not writing. But it is creative!

I haven't been doing much writing this past month because I've had the chance to work as an editor. (Yay, money!)
So to include some writing (because that's what my blog is all about), here's tips from from published authors:

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed"
-- Ernest Hemingway

"If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it."
-- Elmore Leonard

"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass"
-- Anton Chekhov

and to round it off with George Orwell:
1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
6. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Fractured Chronicles part 2 - Marrok

“Long live the King!” Marrok said,
throwing knife in hand. He stared at the wolf carved into the opposite wall.
The stained oak was heavily splintered from years of repeated target practice. In
the dim light of the tavern, the animal almost seemed to wink at him.
“Come on, Marrok.” Jack prompted. The
chance of losing a bet always made him anxious. Marrok ignored him, slowing
down his breathing as he focused in on the wolf’s eye. He flipped the blade so
the sharp tip balanced in between his fingertips.
“You never… rush…” Marrok took a
final deep breath before letting the knife fly. The sweet thud quieted the
entire room. “genius.”
Jack started to cheer.
“Not so fast,” Aiden Foster said. He
scowled his way over to the board, portly frame wobbling slightly as he moved.
“Well?” Humphrey Cole asked through
a mouthful of mince pie. “Did he do it?”
Julia, Jack’s younger sister,
scurried after the large man. She pushed against Aiden’s leg until he made room
for her.
“Dead center!” She had to stretch on her
tiptoes to reach the knife’s hilt. “He got the tip right in the pupil.” With a
sharp tug, the weapon wrenched free. She staggered back right into the
innkeeper. “Sorry, Master Peep.”
Julia ducked away, bringing Marrok back
his father’s knife. He tucked the dagger back into his belt. Taking his mother’s
gold scarf from the table, he wrapped it around Julia’s shoulders. She beamed.
“Can I use this to play Red Hood with
the others?” She pointed to a group of young children forming a ring around a
boy with a strip of cloth covering his eyes.
“It’s the wrong color.”
Her lower lip slid out in a pleading
Marrok chuckled. “Of course you can use
it. Just bring it back when you’re done.”
Julia wrapped her thin arms around his
waist before scampering off.
“Here’s your two-silver piece.” Jack
said. Behind him sat a very disgruntled Mr. Cole.
“I don’t see why we’re splitting this
evenly.” Marrok said, noting a silver coin in Jack’s hand. “I was the only one
risking anything.”
“If you’d lost, I would’ve stolen the
scarf back for you.”
The pair shared a grin.
Marrok glanced to the counter. A large
group of drunken townsmen hiccupped their way through an old shanty as their
wives gabbled throughout the room. Behind them, Beau Peep smoothly evaded their
grabbing hands, making sure each patron paid in full. She had beautiful long
blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Young and fresh, he happily watched her soft
frame swaying back and forth as she wiped the counter clean.
“If you ogle much longer,” Jack said,
“I’ll step in and take her off your hands.”
Marrok jabbed him in the side.
“Seriously though,” Jack continued,
“it’s like she’s turning you into her.” He grabbed a piece of Marrok’s black
hair. “You’ll have longer hair than her pretty soon. And the way you dress; a
man doesn’t need to wash his clothes every single day.”
Marrok rolled his eyes, “And you wonder
why you haven’t got a girl.” He slapped Jack’s hand away as he got to his feet.
“Don’t place any more bets without telling me first.”
“Aye, aye.” Jack gave a mock salute.
Marrok pushed past Aiden Foster when he
tried to protest for his money and strode right up to the bar. “I’ll have two
pints of your heavenly cider, Miss Peep.”
“What’s the second one for?”
“For you, of course.” Marrok took her
hand and kissed the back.
Beau flushed. She let her hand stay
in his for a moment before disappearing through the door to the kitchen. Marrok
grinned, looking back over to Jack and Julia. Julia stood at the center of the
children. His mother’s scarf was draped over her head and her eyes were
in her crimson riding hood,” Jack said as he spun her around, “a girl skipped
carefree through the wood. And when she saw me standing near—” Jack jumped out
of the way as Julia ripped the cloth from her eyes.
laughed and shot me in the rear.” The other children chimed in. Julia, wobbling
slightly on her feet, jumped the boy nearest her, tackling him to the ground.
fair!” Tom Avery protested as he squirmed under Julia’s hold. “I never last to
the end.” He was forced to the corner as the circle reformed without him and rhyme
began again.
He turned around. Beau held out a
tankard of fresh cider.
“A single copper for the two
ciders.” She said, leaning across the counter.
“Can I pay in kind?”
“With what?”
Marrok checked to ensure her father
wasn’t watching before he leaned in and kissed her. His hand moved up to the
back of her neck and she smiled against his lips.
“Now that’s how you kiss a girl.” One of the nearby men jeered to
“Shut up, Angus.”
Marrok laughed and pulled away with
a wink. “Daniel’s got more kids than you do, Angus” he kept his eyes on Beau as
he spoke, “I’m sure he’s doing something right.”
The ensuing brag war between the two
men took the focus off of him and Beau.
“That was enough for one,” she said,
“but not both.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh as he
fished a half-copper from the pouch at his waist. Marrok took a deep drink from
the nutmeg infused cider.
“Sweet as always, Miss Peep.”
She looked pleased. “It’s all thanks
to the apples.”
“Indeed. I wonder where such
delicious apples came from. Surely, a very great and handsome man must’ve
hand-picked and inspected each and every one.”
“I hear he’s quite average,
actually.” Beau sipped her drink. “Homely, even, with hair like a girl. Hardly
ever leaves his uncle’s farm.”
Marrok wasn’t quite sure if he
should scowl or pout. His face must’ve been trapped halfway between the two
because she laughed.
“You always bring us the best
apples.” She kissed his cheek and his mood lightened. A door opened at the
front of the tavern, over Marrok’s left shoulder.
“I was thinking that tonight, we
could…” Marrok trailed off when Beau’s posture stiffened. All of the chattering
quieted to a simmer. Mothers gathered up the children from their game and from
the corner of his eye, Marrok saw Jack ushering Julia into a darker corner.
Marrok kept his back to the new
guests, hands wrapped tight enough around the tankard, he thought it might
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Mr. Peep
said as he appraoched the newest guests. “Did you come here for a drink?”

(the first 1,000 words of Marrok's first chapter :) Long live the King!)

Monday, July 30, 2012

Crimson Order

Cloaked in her favorite riding hood
A girl skipped carefree through the wood
Coming with bright crimson flash
Trailed behind her paths of ash
And when she saw me standing near
She laughed and shot me in the rear
-- (upcoming) Fractured Chronicles, chapter 1
So, what do you think? ;)

Long legends or short poems?

I'm ready Patrick Rothfuss' "The Name of the Wind" and I've noticed that he likes his backstories. A lot. He, and many other fantasy writers, enjoy exploring the history of the world they've created while other summarize or sneak it in through dialogue.
Rich surroundings is what lends fantasy life. But at the same time, too much information overwhelms the reader and can even make them put the book down. So what's your opinion on the matter? Is a bit of length alright if it proves a point and supplies detail or would rather have it all thrown out (or at least shortened).

Friday, June 15, 2012

Fractured Fairytale Part 1 (redone)


             Cassandra walked through the barren throne room. Her footsteps echoed against the stone walls as she approached the King’s seat; a grand chair carved from a single piece of white marble. The room shifted out of focus as the vision changed. Faceless guards filed in from the doors and another throne carved from ebony and lined with pale wolf fur appeared besides the King’s. Everything grew still. Cassandra weaved her way through the chain-mailed men. Only a raised pedestal separated her from the throne. 

            She turned back to look at them all and the room shifted back into sharp focus. Maliel rose up through the cracks of the stone like mercury, three swords strapped to his hips. Grey streaked through his black hair and his hunching shoulder betrayed his age. He took his place in the marble chair. Cassandra’s vision grew hazy for a moment as a woman entered the dream. Snow joined her father. Her blood red lips were split in a smile as she sat beside the King. She leaned in. Her wordless whispers filled the hall with noise.

            Even as Cassandra watched, Maliel greyed, his green eyes fading. Cassandra stumbled as the floor jumbled beneath her feet. Metal grew out of the armed men, encasing them into soldiers. Warriors carved from rocks out of the shattered cliffs lined the decorated walls. Maliel unsheathed two of his swords. Tapestries that bore the black wolf sigil of the king burst into flames. An angry snarling drowned out Snow’s whispers and for the first time, the princess looked up.

            At the opposite end of the hall, a shadowy wolf with piercing gold eyes prowled through the smoke of the burning fabric. The fire spread, licking its way up to the oaken beams of the roof. The King gave a sharp command and his soldiers rushed towards the creature. Flame engulfed the group, forcing Cassandra to look away from the brightness. When the fire began to die down, the wolf re-emerged. The tips of its fur smoldered as it stalked the King. More soldiers attacked but the fires claimed them all.

            The wolf stopped in front of the King, dropping down to his hind quarters as he waited. Cassandra moved to stand beside the animal as the rest of the hall burned to cinders. Maliel’s face continued to grow more gaunt until only his skeleton remained. Snow took the crown from her father’s head. The creature leapt up the pedestal but before he could reach the princess, she vanished, crown still in hand.

            Cassandra looked around at the hall. Stones cracked and walls crumbled. Tapestries turned to ash and the timbers supporting the roof gave way, falling down in massive chunks around her and the wolf. He shoved the skeleton Maliel out of the throne, climbing into the vacant seat to claim his prize. The crimson flames that tore through the throne room gave his fur a demonic glow.  Its gold eyes turned on her.

            Cassandra jolted out of the dream. The chains linking her to the wall rattled as she crawled over to her mirror. Her reflection blurred away as the vision replayed. She smiled when Maliel and Snow fell to the wolf.

“Long live the King.”

(this is my second draft of the story, it's going to be much better XD)

Monday, May 14, 2012

Quarantine Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            Nira scrubbed the metallic floor until she could see her smudged face reflected in the surface.  Soft vibrations traveled up her fingers. She looked up to see six grey Guards clad stomping their way across the floor she’d just cleaned. They were larger than average and at least twice Nira’s size. Clean shaven and cropped hair, they each carried a thick metal club strapped to their hips. Frustration clawed its way up her throat as they dirtied the gleaming floor. She took a deep breath and looked back down at her mirrored face, trying to keep her temper in check. Flecks of mud splattered across her reflection when they marched past. The last set of muddied boots stopped just beside her fingertips.

            “I think you missed a few spots, Dispo.” A boot nudged her in the side.

            Nira only lowered her head, knuckles turning white as she gripped her brush tighter.

            “Did you hear me?”

            He nudged her again, harder this time. She kept silent. The third blow was a full on kick. She sucked in air against the pain that erupted between her fourth and fifth ribs. The man jerked her up to face him. She held the brush like a sword.

            “Of course, sir,” Nira said, anger bubbling over at his laughing face, “Let me get that for you.” She smacked the brush against his right cheek, scrubbing it as though it were a stubborn stain. “You’re right. That looks much better, sir.”

            His companions laughed as grey water dripped off his cleft chin.

            “You think this is funny?” He snapped on them and the laughter cut short. The Guard reached out and yanked back on Nira’s ponytail. She bit her lip, refusing to show any weakness in front of them. He threw her up against the wall, pinning one of her shoulders in place. Her brush clattered to the floor.

            “Just let it go, Erin.” One of other Guards said. He was young, in his upper teens.

            “Not today,” Eric said. He pressed Nira up tighter. “Apologize.”

            Nira kept her lips sealed shut. Her mouth went dry as he slipped the bludgeon from his hip and pressed the rounded tip up against her cheek.

            “I have no problems with hitting a woman”

            The young Guard tried to intervene again, “We’re already late. She’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” He looked around at his comrades but they ignored him. Eric shoved him back.

            Nira tried to form the words but they lodged in her throat. “I’m…” her voice trailed off. Sorry? Of course she wasn’t sorry. She would’ve dumped the entire bucket onto his face if it had been within reach.

            “You’re what?” Soft taps with the bludgeon end.

            “I regret nothing.” She tried to straighten her back but the pain in her side limited to a half hunched stance.

            His arm drew back. Nira clenched her eyes and turned her face away.

            “Stop!” The command came from the other end of the hall. Footsteps echoed off the metal floor. Eric’s grip slackened and Nira fell to her feet. Her legs, unprepared to bear her weight, wobbled before collapsing under her.  She looked up at the approaching man and smiled. Derek. “I didn’t realize that hitting women was part of your duties.”

            Shorter than any of the Guards and barely over twenty, Derek’s white suit made the other men back away with lowered heads. Eric was the only one to stand his ground, his brown eyes wide. Derek’s slender fingers closed around his wrist.

            “But she—“

            She was doing her job before you interrupted her.” Derek said, “Don’t you have a job of your own to get to?” He let go and positioned himself between Nira and the weapon. “Go on.”

            Eric’s grip tightened around the handle. Nira wondered if the man would really dare attack an Asset. The younger Guard tugged at the man’s arm until he relented. “Yes, sir.” Eric muttered as he was pushed by his friends from the hall.

            Derek turned, taking Nira’s hand. “Didn’t think I’d cut it so close.” He helped her back to her feet and Nira pressed her hand against her aching side. “Is it bad?”

            She moved from side to side, testing it out. “I’ve had worse.” There’d be an enormous bruise tomorrow but her ribs were intact. “You really liked playing the hero, didn’t you?”

            Derek puffed out his chest in a mock pose, “Don’t I look the part?”

            Nira kept one around wrapped around her side. “Hmmm,” she tapped her chin in a speculative manner, “No. You’re too short.”

            His entire body sagged.

            Nira laughed and reclaimed her brush, tossing it into the grey-water bucket. He smiled and laughed but he kept glancing over his shoulder and his left hand remained tucked away in one of his pockets as though he were holding something.

            “Your message said you had something for me?”

            “Yes!” Derek’s shoulders relaxed. He lifted up the flap of his overcoat and pulled out a small wrapped package. He held it out “A snack.”

            Nira turned Derek’s gift over in her hands. The thin plastic crinkled under her fingers as she traced the faded images on the front. The red letters were too scratched up and worn for her to read but a strange alien creature wearing a wide-brimmed hat made her question the contents.  The two yellow blobs inside leaked white and her stomach clenched at the idea of ingesting such a thing. “Are you sure that this is supposed to be food?”

            “Try it,” Derek said, “you’ll like it.”

            She hesitated.

            “Go on.”

            Not one to waste food, even if it was at the high end on the questionable scale, Nira tugged at the plastic ends. The package opened with a soft pop and an overwhelming smell of sweetness coated the insides of her nose. It tickled down her throat and made her cough. She’d never seen Derek grin so wide before. Despite her better judgment, her mouth began to water and curiosity tempted her fingers into the little bag. The yellow log compressed between her fingers and more whiteness beaded up on the bottom. Its texture reminded her of the sponges she often used, only dry and squishy. Nira looked back up at him.

            Derek stood there, all patience and smiles.

            With a sigh, she bit down. The whiteness melted across her tongue and sent sparks up her spine. The spongey yellow turned to sweet mush before dissolving along with the cream.

            “Well?” asked Derek. He moved closer, looking anxious for her approval. 

            “It’s very strong.” Nira said. The tips of her fingers began to tingle and there was a slight buzz in the front of her head, “Where did you get it?”

            “Parson had a few of them lying around. He called it a ‘Twinkie’. People used to eat it all the time.”

            Nira found it hard to believe but nodded anyways. Sticking the rest of the cake back into its covering, she tucked the cakes away in her water canteen along with Avin’s meat. “Thank you, Derek.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. A bit of the white filling must’ve been on her lips because it smudged across his cheek, making her smile. “And thank you, for the rescue.”

            “I had to do something. You would’ve beaten him into a pulp if I hadn’t stepped in.” Derek’s hand came up to her cheek. He used his thumb to wipe off a smudge. “I wish you would be more careful. You give the Guards too many excuses to hurt you.”

“But it’s so much fun to watch them turn red.”  Nira chuckled. Her ribs protested against the movement with a ripple of pain. “Then again, maybe you have a point.” Her smile faded when he looked down to the hallway end again. “What is it?”

“I found something that I don’t think I was supposed to see.”


Derek opened his mouth. He paused and shook his head. “I’ll tell you later when I’m sure I’m right.” The echo of a soft thunk made his head jerk up. She could see the pulse in his neck quicken. “Can you keep something secret for me?”

            “Of course.” 

            He pulled the left hand out of his pocket. Balled up, he unclenched his fist one finger at a time. Inside his palm rested a thin strip of metal the length of her finger with an ornate number 4 etched into the bottom half.

            “You?!” Nira closed his hand back around it. “Why would you take it?

            “It was only on accident at first.” Derek said, “Yesterday, I took my father’s coat by mistake and the key I was inside. In the main observation room where Doctor Parson works, there are slots where the key might fit. I just wanted to see what it would do.” He grabbed her hand and forced her to take the key. “If I keep it, my father would find it eventually. Please.” He stopped and took a step back when a pair of old men in black shuffled by. The Dispos didn’t give Nira or Derek a second glance. Nira could see small beads of sweat forming on Derek’s forehead. When the old men turned the corner, Derek continued, “You can bring it back to me later tonight. Just keep it safe for me for a little while. Please?”

            Nira stared down at her clenched fist. The metal inside felt hot against her skin. “I only have to keep it till tonight?”


            “And you’ll tell me what you found that’s making you so nervous?”

            He nodded.

            “Fine.” She said. Reaching into her dirty water, she shook out the brush and wedged the piece of metal between the thick bristles. No one would go searching in there. “After I bring Avin his dinner, I’ll come by and bring this back.”

            “I’ll be there.” Derek took her hand again, “I owe for this.”  He leaned in to kiss her when someone cleared their throat. At the end of the hall, a near copy of Derek stood in white with his hands behind his back. Only the faint traces of wrinkles around his eyes and the splash of silver on the side of his trimmed black hair revealed his age.

            “Asset Wrin.” Nira dropped to her knees before the man as he approached. She had never seen Derek’s father before but it made her wonder if Derek inherited his kind nature from his mother.

            “Don’t presume to address me directly.” His voice was ice. The sharp sound of a slap made her wince. Derek said nothing against the punishment. “Another Dispo whore that you’ve decided to take pity on?”

            Nira watched them from the safety of her bangs. Derek’s father yanked him by the collar and marched him out of the passageway. She looked back at her bucket of cleaning water. She could keep something safe for a few hours, couldn’t she?


Sorry I've stopped doing the short 15 minute prompts. I've been working on my stories instead and I'm actually really excited on all the changes that I've made.
Thanks for reading :)