[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Home of Aspiring Authors' LiveJournal:
[ << Previous 20 ]
[ << Previous 20 ]
|Sunday, September 7th, 2014|
“Dangerous” trailer released - view here!
Discover the romantic and suspenseful world of DANGEROUS
via this newly released book trailer - and (coincidence?) the eBook in on sale for just 99¢ Sept. 7-13 at Amazon! Current Mood: excited
|Monday, August 1st, 2011|
1) Name: Mashaal
2) Age: 19
3) Genre: YA/Fiction/Paranormal
4) How did I find this place?: I searched "writer" on LJ search bar.
|Thursday, December 30th, 2010|
1) Name: Alysse
2) Age: 18
3) Genre: I tend to write supernatural stories that sometimes slip into romance. :p
4) How did I find this place?: I searched the word "writing," and I clicked on the beautiful link that brought me here. :) Current Mood: bouncy
|Friday, December 24th, 2010|
Bloodangel - Chapter One
AN: The first few chapters may be fairly short but I will try to lengthen them as the story progresses!
In which my family and I celebrate.
My eyes opened, awoken by the screaming alarm clock on the desk next to my bed. I shut the annoying thing off as quickly as I could, then lay back down, looking up at my ceiling.
It's been awhile since I've dreamed of my past, I thought. It must be because my birthday's today.
I shoved the covers off, deciding that I may as well get up.
My room consisted of a bed, desk, chair, nightstand, closet, and an attached bathroom. It wasn't very personalized. The only reason you could even tell it was my room were the clothes in the closet. I never really did anything to design or personalize my room. we'd probably be moving again soon anyway.
Both my parents like to travel a lot, and that didn't stop when they adopted me. In fact, they wanted to travel more, to show me more. So far, I'd lived in France, Japan, and several places in the U.S. We had also visited several places, including Africa, England, and Scotland. Currently, we resided in a small town north of Boston.
Shaking myself from my thoughts, I went into the bathroom attached to my room and took a shower.
Afterward, I stared at my closet, trying to decide what to wear. Finally, I made my decision. I examined myself in the full length mirror.
Black skinny jeans hugged my legs. A white turtle neck and black waistcoat accentuated my chest nicely. My long, wavy black hair was up in its usual messy bun, a few stray pieces hanging in front of my face. My left eye was covered with a black eye patch while the right was piercing silver. In my left ear were a diamond stud, in the lobe, and two small titanium hoops high up.
Hurrying down stairs, a delicious smell wafted towards me. I wondered what Max would make for my birthday breakfast.
Walking into the kitchen, I grinned widely.
Max had Seth up against the counter, hands on either side of him. They were kissing. As I watched, Seth's hands lifted to tangle in his partner's hair while Max's arms wrapped around the smaller male's waist. Not wanting whatever they were cooking to burn, I decided to make my presence known.
"So, Max, besides Seth, what's for breakfast?"
The two lovers leapt apart so fast I thought they might get whiplash. Max glared halfheartedly at me while Seth smiled fondly and I laughed.
Max Tanner looks like he's in his late twenties. He's tall with chocolate brown eyes that always seem to hold a spark of mischievousness in them. His dirty blond hair was always shaggy but today it looked like he hadn't even bothered to try to tame it. Apparently, he hadn't felt the need to get dressed either. The only thing he wore was a pair of black silk pajama pants. He was fairly muscular, though not overly so.
Looking to be in his mid twenties, Seth Mathews stood at average height. Dark blue eyes danced with amusement. His shoulder length brown hair was tied back into a sort ponytail. All of this plus pale skin made for a pretty attractive guy. Unlike his husband, Seth had at least bothered to put an old gray tee-shirt on over his silk pajamas. Although he was healthy, it was obvious when looking at his petite form that he didn't lift weights or anything.
Six years ago, Max and Seth had found me in an orphanage and adopted me and we'd been together ever since. It was the longest I'd ever been adopted for without being sent back. After the initial awkwardness, I found living with the gay couple to be rather interesting and entertaining. Now, we were so close I thought of them as my real parents.
Seth's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "…cook?"
I blinked. "Huh?"
Amusedly, he repeated, "Do you want to help us cook?"
Ginning, I replied, "Only if Max can keep his hands off of you long enough to actually cook." Dodging Max's good-natured punch, I laughed. "What are we making, anyway?"
Max smiled and shook his head. "We were thinking scrambled eggs, croissants, bacon, and chocolate chip pancakes."
I smiled as I realized they were making me all my favorites. "Sounds perfect!"
Clapping his hands once, Seth said, "Well then, let's get to work!"
And work we did.
Max was about half way done with making the pancake batter (from scratch of course) when he suddenly gave a massive sneeze. Unfortunately for him, he had just opened a big bag of flour. When I looked up from rolling the croissants, his face was covered in fine white powder. For some reason, I found this hilarious. Seconds after I began to laugh, I found my neck and chest covered in the white powder as well. Max grinned like a Cheshire. Seth, meanwhile, was laughing so hard he had to bend over. Max and I shared a look, and then shared a maniacal grin. Calming slightly, Seth looked up and saw our expressions. He backed up a bit.
"Oh no," he said.
"Oh yes," Max said.
The both of us picked up some flour and in unison shouted, "Flour fight!"
With that, our epic battle of white powder began.
After a while, we ran out of ammunition and collapsed onto the floor with laughter.
"So much for the pancakes," I said with a grin after we'd all calmed down.
Seth gave a lopsided grin that Max often wore. "Actually, there's another bag of flour in the cabinet. If you promise to at least try not to misbehave, I'll let you use it," the man said with mock seriousness.
Rolling his eyes with a grin, Max replied. "As I recall, you were right there 'misbehaving' alongside us."
Following that little episode, we decided to clean the mess up later and continued cooking. We split the tasks up differently this time; this time, Max was handling the eggs, Seth was doing the pancakes, and I was in charge of the croissants and bacon.
After a while of rumbling stomachs, delicious smells, and joking about each other, the food was done. I set the table in the dining room attached to the kitchen as my parents brought out the food. As Max and I ate, Seth watched and we all talked and laughed for a full hour, enjoying each others company.
Eventually, we all sat in front of the TV watching my favorite movies, which included Rocky Horror Picture Show, Alice in Wonderland (2010), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Avatar, and Resident Evil. By the time we were done with our marathon, it was almost 8:30pm.
As was tradition, I would open my presents at 8:30. Then, Max and Seth would wait until exactly 9:36 (the time of my birth) to bring out my cake and let me blow out the candles. The type and design of the cake changed each year. I couldn't wait to see what my fathers had prepared for me this year!
Currently, I busied myself with opening presents.
This year, Seth got me two copies of The Brittle Age and Returning Upland by René Char, one in French and one in English, two copies of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, one in Swedish and one in English, and a set of pajamas; a long sleeved black silk shirt with silver trimming and long pants of the same material.
Max got me some more piano music, a purple tee shirt with "Let's get one thing straight, I'm not" written in black on the front, a pair of new combat boots, and a new dagger with a leather holster that could strap onto the waist of my pants. The dagger was made of a strong non-rust metal, with a handle that was wrapped in a thick strip of black leather that matched the holster.
The tee-shirt made me grin. Ever since I'd come out a year ago, both of my fathers had showed their support by buying me stuff like this. I already had at least five shirts similar to my new one. But I didn't mind. In fact, just the opposite, I loved those shirts!
"These are awesome, guys!" I said, looking into the faces of my fathers. "You always know just what I want. Thank you so much!"
"Ah, ah! We have one more for you!" Seth said, smiling.
Max smiled, too, as he pulled something out his pocket. It was a small black box that obviously held jewelry. I opened the lid and saw a platinum Claddagh ring staring up at me. I looked back up at my fathers.
Max spoke first. "It's always been tradition in my family to give your child a Claddagh ring when you believe that child is ready."
Seth grinned. "For some reason, I get the feeling you're going to be needing it soon." I was shocked to say the least. One of Seth's good friends was a Seer. They often spoke and she sometimes had visions pertaining to one of them. Had she had a vision about me?
"If you don't want it," Max began, misinterpreting my silence, "we could always just send it back or exchange- oof!"
I launched myself at Max, hugging him tightly. took a moment of hesitation before returning the embrace with obvious uncertainty. He had always been more hesitant to show his emotions of the two. I pulled back and did the same to Seth. Without a thought, he hugged me back just as tightly.
I slipped the ring on and was unsurprised to find it fit perfectly.
Seth stole a look at the clock just as I did. 9:30.
Seth stood up from the couch and clapped his hands once. "Well, I'm going to go get the candles ready! Max, you know what to do."
The larger male nodded and proceeded to keep me occupied for the next four minutes with conversation of the new music he'd gotten me. In the middle of a sentence, he suddenly sat up straighter.
"Seth says he ready," he informed me.
I grinned. Werewolf hearing could come in handy sometimes.
That's another thing about my fathers, they aren't exactly human. In fact, they are the opposite. They're Supernaturals.
Max is a born werewolf, meaning that while he is still forced to transform every full moon, he could also transform into the wolf whenever he needed to. Plus, his wolf instincts and his human intellect are fairly well balanced. Occasionally, his wolf did get the better of him, but it was very rare and generally tended to only happen for a moment.
As for Seth, he was a vampire. Thinking that a vampire always kills its victims is a common misconception amongst normal people. However, it was indeed a misconception. If they want to, vampires are able to take what they need from the human without killing them, or even causing them to lose consciousness. Of course, that didn't stop the occasional asshole from sucking some poor soul dry. These bad vampires were the main cause of the horrid reputation that had followed all vampires for thousands of years.
"Happy birthday dear Luna! Happy birthday to you!" My fathers' singing snapped me out of my reverie. I smiled at them.
"Thanks guys," I said.
I closed my eyes and wished for the same thing I did every year; I wish I could find out what happened to my brother and sister.
As I lifted my eyes, I saw the clock change to 9:36 and my world changed forever.
-cackles evilly- Mwahahahaha! Cliffhanger! Please tell me what you think of my story so far! Current Mood: Festive
|Saturday, December 18th, 2010|
Bloodangel - Prologue
: JJ Murilega
: Luna Akaikiba has never been normal. But just how far from normal is she? She's about to find out! Her new found powers will bring her to a new school, new friends, reunions with long lost family members. However, it will also bring, lies, deception, and unspeakable dangers, from petty school mates to an organization of madmen intent on causing the deaths of her and everyone near and dear to her. Add that to the stress of being new in school, the "changes" her body is going through, having to deal with seeing her family everyday at school, and the fact that her roommate is the Headmistress' daughter (and quite possibly her mate) and little-miss-Luna's in for a hell of a long education at Rosethorn Academy!Warnings:
There will be homosexuals, heterosexuals, transsexuals, and bisexuals in relationships featured in this story. (In fact, the MAIN couple is a lesbian couple) There will be violence, some blood, near-fatal injuries, and some angst.
A golden eyed young man about eighteen ran down a dark hallway, stumbling at times.
The heck? Is that Kurai?
Opening a door to his right, the boy stepped inside and carefully shut the door.
Moonlight illuminated the small room, streaming in through the window. Two beds sat on either side of the room. In one lay a seven year old girl with shoulder length wavy black hair.
In the other was an eighteen year old girl who bore a remarkable likeness to the boy.
Both girls lay in their respective beds, blissfully asleep.
Swiftly, the boy crossed to where the older of the two girls was sleeping. He shook her roughly, softly calling, “Hikari! Hikari! Wake up!”
Slowly her lids opened to reveal golden eyes, identical to the boy’s. “Kurai?” she asked her twin, her voice slurred with drowsiness.
His voice was hushed as he spoke rapidly. “Hikari, we don’t have much time. Their coming, I saw them running up the driveway when I went to get a drink. Wake Luna, we need to get going.”
Her eyes widened as she recognized what this meant. Their fears had been realized.
Oh, I get it. I’m remembering that night. Something feels different, though. Maybe I’m dreaming about it? Wouldn't be the first time...
She threw the covers aside and sat up, shivering a bit at the sudden chill.
As she moved over to the other bed, Kurai opened the window as wide as it would go, thanking their luck that it faced the backyard instead of the front. He dropped to the floor in front of Hikari’s bed. From underneath it, he pulled out three objects; a long rope ladder, a black duffel bag, and a sheathed knife.
Meanwhile, Hikari was lightly tapping the face of the younger girl, gently calling, “Luna. Time to wake up, Lulu.”
Only Hikari could ever get away with calling me that.
The girl’s silver eyes opened, hazy from tiredness. “Big Sis, what’s wrong?” her high pitched voice asked. She noticed it was still dark, not yet time to wake up. The only other reason she would wake her up was if she'd had a… “Did you have a bad dream?”
Hikari smiled affectionately. “No, no bad dreams. But we have to get up.”
Luna’s small face scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”
The older girl took a breath. “Do you remember us saying that sometime soon, something bad might happen to us unless we left?”
The young girl’s eyes widened as she nodded. She had hoped that they were only trying to scare her when they had said all that. Evidently, they hadn’t been. Hikari pushed the covers aside and Luna took that as her cue to get out of the bed. The girls wore matching white nightgowns.
I remember those nightgowns. Mom had gotten them for us the year before, on our last Christmas as a family.
The boy, clad only in white pants, looked at his sisters for a moment. "Why does this shit always seem to happen to us?" He wondered in a whisper.
I ask myself that a lot, Brother.
He shook his head to clear it. “I know that the two of you are tired but I need you to be as alert as possible, okay?”
Both girls nodded.
He placed the dagger on the desk next to Hikari’s bed, tossing the black bag to Hikari. He then proceeded to hook the ladder onto two thick nails that were sticking out of the wall. He placed the rest of the rope ladder carefully onto the ground for now.
Hikari dug through the bag, pulling out another sheathed knife, two leather jackets, and three pairs of different sized jeans and sneakers. She placed the knife on the bed nearest her, handing Kurai and Luna each a pair of jeans and shoes. The three siblings slipped them on without a word, Luna and Hikari turning their backs so that their older brother could at least have some semblance of privacy. Kurai slipped on his jacket as well but Hikari hesitated, realizing that they had forgotten to pack Luna’s jacket in the bag. She handed hers to the young girl, who smiled up at her as she put it on.
Even as a teenager, Hikari always thought of me first.
“Thanks, Big Sis.”
I wondered briefly where I had picked up the habit of calling them “Sis” and “Brother” instead of their given names.
Hikari nodded with a small smile and grabbed her knife, clasping it to the waist of her jeans as her brother did the same with his. She opened her wardrobe to retrieve a black turtleneck from the closet, shoving her nightgown into the bag along with Kurai’s pants.
She was glad he’d thought to pack the bag ahead of time. It was currently full of another change of clothes for each of them, extra blankets (in case they had to sleep outside), a few hundred dollars in cash, and a few other miscellaneous items they might end up needing.
She turned and couldn’t help but marvel for a moment at how strange her younger sister looked dressed in jeans, a white nightgown that reached just past her knees, a black leather jacket that was way too big for her, and tennis shoes. The sight made her chuckle a bit.
Yeah, yeah, laugh away.
Kurai noticed what his twin was looking at and smiled. Then he stiffened. His eyes closed and he looked like he was trying to listen to something. Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass could be heard from the floor below.
Several things seemed to happen at once. First, Hikari grabbed the duffel bag and Luna’s hand. Second, Kurai threw down the rest of the ladder, causing a loud bang as it hit the house on its way down. Lastly, the shouts and stomping feet of the trespassers could be heard coming into the house.
Hikari quickly shimmied out the window and down the ladder. Kurai threw the duffel bag down and trusted his twin to catch it. He lifted Luna up and out of the window and waited until she had a good grip on the ladder and nodded at him before letting her go. She began her descent, shaky, and much slower than her sister’s. The trespassers were done downstairs and could be heard coming up the staircase.
Half way down the ladder, Luna froze with fear as she heard the door to her room banging open.
“Go!” Kurai shouted to the girls. “I’ll meet up with you later!”
“But, Big Brother-” Luna started. She was cut off by the window above her closing. “Brother!”
“It’s okay,” Hikari soothed from below. “He’ll be fine. He won’t let himself get hurt.”
“But...” The young girl looked up once more. “But, Sis, he’ll-”
A gunshot rang out. The window pane shattered into a million pieces as a bullet whizzed through it. Luna cried out as some shards ripped her skin in places. Luckily, her jacket protected most of her.
“Luna!” Hikari yelled.
She looked up again, hoping her brother would be there, smiling down at her.
A man was there, and he was smiling. But it wasn’t her brother, and the smile he wore was pure evil. He pointed a small gun-like weapon at the girl and pulled the trigger before she had time to register what was going on.
Pain exploded in her left eye. A small piece of metal stuck half way out of the squishy orb.
The little girl cried out in agony, losing her grip on the ladder. She fell into the arms of her sister.
“Oh no,” the older girl said. She then grabbed the bag and raced towards the woods with Luna in her arms, dodging the occasional darts and bullets.
I’m so sorry, Hikari. I'm so sorry.
After a while of running at full speed, she couldn’t go any longer. She dropped to her knees, placing Luna, who had long since passed out, onto the forest floor, he knees serving as a pillow for the younger girl’s head. She placed the duffel bag not too far away.
Suddenly, she had flashes of her mother in the hospital, there due to a dart, not unlike the one in her sister’s eye. The dart had only hit her arm, but it had held a deathly poison which slowly made its way through the her body, eventually killing her. There was no cure. And so their mother had died an agonizing death, a fate that Luna may be facing if that dart wasn’t taken out of her soon.
“Should I take it out? Shit, shit, shit! Oh, Kurai, where are you?” Hikari asked no one.
Hikari whipped around to face her twin brother, eyes wild with fear and worry.
“What should we do?” she asked as the boy knelt down next to her.
“We need to take it out.”
“But all of the books I’ve read say to leave the item in the wound until professional help gets here!”
“I don’t have a phone on me, do you?” snapped Kurai. “Besides, I’m more worried about the poison than anything else.”
The golden eyed girl bit her lip. She looked back down into the face of her sister. A trail of blood was dripping from her eye, down her cheek. Like she was crying blood. The sight made her shudder. Shaking her head, she looked over to her twin. “I don’t think I can do it.”
After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. Kurai looked down at his sister, wrapping his hand around the part of the the dart sticking out, his other arm moving Luna so she was now in his lap. His twin’s body shook with anxiety. He tried hard to keep his own hand steady as he pulled out the poisonous object.
Please leave a comment before you go! Thanks! Current Mood: awake
|Sunday, December 5th, 2010|
|Friday, December 3rd, 2010|
I'm new to this community. I found it very interesting.
I write children books. Trying to get published. Would love feedback on one of my books. Anyone interested in giving me a critique?
|Friday, October 22nd, 2010|
New to "writers_niche"
Hello all. Excuse me, i am a new for this community, so i beg you to allow me to write my writing or my translation in this community. It's all about writing poetry or some essay. Thanks.
The Intrigue of the Poet and His Work
(It is just the result of my feeling; I wish I am a poet. And, if the term of the feeling is right, then it is the beginning of science).
The “Book of Angels” is actually not "poetry."
Written by Nurel Javissyarqi*
Translated by Agus B. Harianto
What are you dreamed of in height of literary? (Goethe).
Poetry is dead periods. It is stopped on the stiffness of itself that had been hidden by flexibility. It could not move too far, when the "words" had been represented its existence. Hence the creation of poetry is a kind of training suicide so many times.
Who died there? It’s creator, humiliated by its honesty. Though it’s wrapped in secrecy, there remains a desire to be known, to be understood. Maybe it's another side of the wild behavior of poetry before it dies, before it buried in coffin of the words.
you want to see more? Please visit this links; http://www.sastra-indonesia.com/2008/09/intrik-penyair-dan-karyanya/http://pustakapujangga.com/http://2412r.wordpress.com/http://nureljavissyarqi.wordpress.com/http://adf.ly/9YIv Current Mood: cheerful
|Thursday, October 21st, 2010|
Help with Plot Climax
Help with a plot climax
Hi I'm Angela Castle, I write Romantic Paranormal - Si-Fi- and Fantasy (with erotic undertones) I am working on a Dragon erotic romance book at the moment. I would love some ideas on how to get my characters out of their current situation.
My baddie has poisoned the FMC and is forcing the MMC (my dragon) to go and find him the well of immortality, If he does not do it then the FMC will die. as he needs the water from this well to stop the poison.
1. The dragon cannot shift into dragon from because of the drug the baddie has given him. So he as to rely on his strength.
2. They are in a very remote area (middle of nowhere)
3. The baddie has other baddies working for him with guns.
4. The well of immortality is hidden under a big mountain so a bit of digging may be required.
Things working for the dragon.
1. He still is a dragon
2. There are friends one dragon friend and a paranormal investigator searching for the two missing MC's (who could come in and save them.)
I am stuck as to where to go from here? Suggestion would be great.
Current Mood: hopeful
|Wednesday, October 6th, 2010|
1. Judith Kinion ~Jewel~
3. fantasy, sci-fi, fiction
4. I was just looking for communities to join and spotted it.
|Thursday, September 30th, 2010|
New to writers_niche
Hello! My name is Elizabeth! I'm 24. I'm far from "new" to livejournal, but I haven't used it in a while, this account is a new one. I like to write fantasy, I just recently finished up my first novel and I'm in my final editing stages before it's published! I was doing writing community searches on LJ when I stumbled onto this one. I'm hoping to get in touch with other aspiring authors so that I can make sure I'm going in the right direction, get some feedback, and hopefully some motivation!
|Sunday, September 26th, 2010|
His name was Captain Jack and was rather miffed every time he discovered another impostor running around with his moniker. He was fairly certain that he'd been around since long before any of these other Captains Jack were even old enough to walk. He could remember things, people and places now long gone from this world. His age is indeterminable as his beard and hair do not show gray but his face and eyes tell a much different story -- he is one who has seen many things, read much, heard more and experienced many emotions in his day. One evening as he pondered his latest fiction novel, he stumbled across a forum for exchanging ideas in writing. As is almost always the case, this particular forum was in a place where Captain Jack had been looking for other bits and bytes but because of his keen interest in writing fiction, the quite little harbor in a side cove of that vast ocean known as the Internet caught the Captain's attention and he beached his craft near a dock and began to ruminate. Current Mood: okay
|Tuesday, September 7th, 2010|
Surrounded by Light (A Short Story by Lisa Stull)
Surrounded by Light
A Short Story by Lisa Stull
It had been three months since I first received the note; the note that would change my life. I was a witch. I had no idea such things even existed. More specifically, I was a sun witch, which meant that I had the ability to project light from my body, just like the sun. It doesn’t sound like such a fantastic trait until you learn what lurks in the dark. I found the note tightly wound around a case at the foot of my bed on my 21st birthday. The note was un-authored and I was unfamiliar with the handwriting. It read: Cassandra,
Inside this case is your destiny; do not refuse it or you will face grave consequences. You are a witch of the sun. Your talent will help us fight for the survival of mankind. By opening this case, the light will become one with you.
I was speechless. I sat there staring at the case, it appeared very old and held no clues as to whom it was sent by. I walked the case to my desk near the window so that I could examine it more closely. It was there that I felt it approaching; it was a sensation I had never experienced before. My entire body was shaking and pulsating and I felt drawn to the case. I struggled to lift my head up to look at the window. Hovering over the row of townhouses in front of mine was a dark cloud; and I could tell it was no ordinary storm cloud. The dark cloud was moving and reshaping itself closer and closer to my window. Without even thinking, I opened the case as fast as I could when I saw the dark cloud approaching my windowpane. The light inside the case was brilliant, it sparkled and seared my skin at first touch. I could tell the light was overtaking my body. Its raw power caused me to fall backward onto the floor. The light diminished and I could hear the dark cloud shrieking and retreating.
The light had done more than overtake my body; it had filled me with the history of the light and dark. The dark clouds were the dark witches that threatened to take over mankind; they were evil and ruthless. They would suck the light and soul out of every living being they touched until the earth was filled only with darkness and pure evil. Humanity’s only chance would be the witches of the sun. It was my destiny to seek them out and destroy them with the pure light that was filled within me.
It would only be a matter of time before I learned that the dark clouds were waiting for me around every corner. They would try to hide under the night’s dark security blanket, but I promise you this, I will find them and destroy them all.
~ The End Current Mood: creative
|Saturday, September 4th, 2010|
Lethargic soul (pen name)
16 [I'd like to think I'm younger though :)] 3. What genre do you like to write? (i.e., fiction, mystery, etc.):
fiction, romance, angst (sometimes), tragedy, mystery, and fanfiction :) 4. How did you find this community?
Eh, browsing around? :)
|Thursday, September 2nd, 2010|
Alright, this was something I threw up on my own journal, but I figured it'd get more attention here. Some minor swearing as a warning. And forgive me, I'm not sure how to condense it into a "Read More" link. Anyway, it's nonfiction (except for details I might remember wrong). Hope you enjoy!
I had made the mistake of taking a ride headed off the main route. That was lesson number one on how not to get home faster. So instead of cruising up I-5 I was stuck somewhere in southern California with a sweaty palm pointed north. Or at least I think it was north. It'd been hours without a single ride and I had almost finished the gallon of water I bought a quarter mile down the road. That meant it was time to start plodding down the highway in the hot sun with a full pack on my back.
Luckily a few miles down the road somebody graciously stopped. I climbed in and they proceeded to tell me I'd be wiser standing by the gas station. Reluctantly I followed their advice and promptly wound up back at square one. After filling my jug again and waiting another couple of hours I checked the gas station map and made up my mind to cut across the hills hoping to clip a few miles off.
Now I learned how small and easy maps make traveling look. The hill was a steady climb, up over some barbed wire fences, with less and less vegetation. Soon I heard and saw the distant sounds of four wheelers racing around the dusty trails circling the balding hill. When I finally reached the area, still not at the crest, one of the racers skidded to a halt.
"You okay man?"
"Yeah, just, you know, out for a stroll."
"Um...ok, just checking."
There was my last human contact for the next 24-ish hours. Step after step I gradually got to the top. Then noticed the wonderfully steep decline to railroad tracks, scattered with a gravel-sand mixture, and dotted with boulders. The idea of death by rolling all the way down settled firmly in my mind, however I'd come to far to turn back. I slowly picked my way day, zig-zagging to remain above the larger rocks, sliding on my butt intermittently. I imagined losing my footing and tumbling down, like a meatball falling off a heaping pile of spaghetti. That made me laugh: possible death ahead and I'm thinking of pasta.
With the exception of a few scrapes near the end I landed feet first next to the tracks. Now it was time to cross to the freeway, even though the afternoon wanned. Still nobody stopped. A mile passed. Another. Near the third I saw a road sign and it lifted my spirits since I was nearing the end of my water supply and craving some more human contact. Giddy, I picked up the pace to a near jog. It could only be about a mile from the sign to the exit. Almost there...almost...
Instantly the sign told me why not a soul took a second glance at me.
California State Penitentiary Next Right -- DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS
Hey! So I've just started using LJ again after however many years of various distractions.
1. Name: Jon/Jonny/whatever
2. Age: 26
3. What genre do you like to write? (i.e., fiction, mystery, etc.): Nonfiction, exaggerated nonfiction, fiction
4. How did you find this community? Stumbling around the communities section looking for interesting people/groups to follow
I'm hoping to practice writing more, so any criticisms anybody wants to offer would be much appreciated. Hopefully I can keep up and not get distracted again!
|Monday, August 30th, 2010|
Marred canvas. That’s the word. It’s the word for the sky, a murky grey color streaked by bone white clouds. It’s the word for my arms and thighs, and off white color streaked with scars. I am the sky. It’s going to rain, It rains when I cry. I sit on top of the roof, like a stony gargoyle, unfeeling, un-thought of, unloved. I shiver as a wind blows through my hollow bones. My once muscular figure has dwindled to next to nothing from lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of caring. The Misfits shirt I’m wearing, who knows who it belongs to, hangs off me like the extra skin of an ancient dog. My angel wings would be black, whipping in the cold bursts of air.
I can feel the rooftop shaking underneath my black boots. The music is loud in there. The band is actually quite appealing. They have the raw energy, they'll make it big. The bodies are twisting and churning in the head. People are back to back, front to front, grinding. The mosh pit has started up again, I can feel it, all the half dressed forms writhing and smacking. Sweat is dripping and being flung. It smells in there, you're burning in the heat, burning in the fire. That’s where you would be, the firey mosh pit. I know. You always loved the mosh pits. You loved the power, the electricity, the excitement, the violence. You loved me…
I need a title! Comments are love. :)
: eighteenabout me
: High School Grad with Honors, headed towards a degree in psych and human behavior hopefullyabout my journal
: I've just started posting some of my writings so be patient with me, I can be slow. what i write
: It's mostly simplistic fiction, inspired by whatever past memories of my life and trials I'm thinking about.what i don't write:
Down and dirty memoirs, inspired by, not really what's happened. what i read:
science fiction and fantasy mostly, I love a good horror book thought. could i edit someone's work
: why not?what i'm looking for
: Interesting people, I like to keep it simple, just people to engage, enlighten, and philosophize. I like mad rants.
|Thursday, August 26th, 2010|
The Lust of My Life
I've been thinking, as I so often do, about what it actually is that makes us physically attracted to someone. Why is it that people generally have 'types' and what is it that sometimes attracts us to someone who is not 'our type'.
I'll be honest. I like pondering this because it gives me an excuse to dwell on my various crushes.( Read more...Collapse )