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~
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMJi-YrrbG4&feature=youtu.be

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
pout.
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
covered.
“Cloaked
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.
“She
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.
“Not
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.
“Marrok?”
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
another.
“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
break.
“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!)