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Showing posts from February, 2009

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New contribution to Totally Novel on writing, update on Sweet Sixteen Killer

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I've been pretty quiet lately on the blog, sorry about that. I've been laying mostly low, though I did recently begin contributing to a new website for writers and readers called Totally Novel. My first contribution for members of the site is a post I titled 3 things that prevented me from writing a novel. To read the post, sign up for a free trial. Take a look around and if you don't wanna stay, don't renew membership. That said, it's a pretty cool effort being put together by a former Google+ member like myself. As a matter of fact there are several members on the site from the old Google+ days. (Side note: there is a free membership option)
I will be contributing to the Totally Novel blog bi-monthly for now. My next addition will be in August. I'm super excited for the site and I hope you can come join us and become a part of the groups, forums, blog, workshops, and more. 
All that said, I haven't given up here. This is still my primary site and blog. 👊

Mine Own Land

"Let me tell you what I know about the pale men who came from the waters. Their skin is like the sun has never seen it; they came out from the waters on large homes they had built with the trees. Upon their faces, like the beasts, hair does grow and some have more hair on their faces than others. They can talk to each other like the birds of the air, but they do not understand us and we cannot understand them. They wear all sorts of strange coats of skin, but they feel nothing like our beasts. They eat strange foods that quickly wither away.

"The first time they came to our village, they were not aggressive. But in their eyes, you could see they were uneasy. Like the beasts are when they fear what we might do to them. They walked all about my village, talking to each other in their strange tongue. One pale man kept writing unseen things.

"The second time they came, the sticks they had carried on their backs and at their sides they now held in their hands.…

Mine Own Land

"Let me tell you what I know about the pale men who came from the waters. Their skin is like the sun has never seen it; they came out from the waters on large homes they had built with the trees. Upon their faces, like the beasts, hair does grow and some have more hair on their faces than others. They can talk to each other like the birds of the air, but they do not understand us and we cannot understand them. They wear all sorts of strange coats of skin, but they feel nothing like our beasts. They eat strange foods that quickly wither away.

"The first time they came to our village, they were not aggressive. But in their eyes, you could see they were uneasy. Like the beasts are when they fear what we might do to them. They walked all about my village, talking to each other in their strange tongue. One pale man kept writing unseen things.

"The second time they came, the sticks they had carried on their backs and at their sides they now held in their hands.…

The Rolling Stone & Wicked Annabelle, Chapter 3

Some Reunions Suck
Teen Wolf was to be his first stop; he was the Supplier. He started this mess. Teen Wolf lived in a gigantic house that he bought with the gigantic addictions and losses he fermented. He was a dealer, but he didn’t deal to lowlifes on the streets in the outskirts. He was inner city, higher class scum than the teens The Rolling Stone had maimed in the convenient store. He wasn’t top of the crop, though. He bought from the inner-most city scum dealers, than he supplied it to the lowlife dealing scum in the outskirts. The lowlife dealers sold it to any Tom, Dick and Harry that walked the streets—or in this case, Wicked Annabelle.

The Rolling Stone met Wicked Annabelle in a bar on the edge of the outskirts; that is, not in the outskirts but just inside inner city. Before he knew it, they were seeing more of each other and before he knew it they were getting hitched. And then, he really got to know her—she was a junkie, a lowlife junkie. She bought from the lowlife dealers…

The Rolling Stone & Wicked Annabelle, Chapter 3

Some Reunions Suck
Teen Wolf was to be his first stop; he was the Supplier. He started this mess. Teen Wolf lived in a gigantic house that he bought with the gigantic addictions and losses he fermented. He was a dealer, but he didn’t deal to lowlifes on the streets in the outskirts. He was inner city, higher class scum than the teens The Rolling Stone had maimed in the convenient store. He wasn’t top of the crop, though. He bought from the inner-most city scum dealers, than he supplied it to the lowlife dealing scum in the outskirts. The lowlife dealers sold it to any Tom, Dick and Harry that walked the streets—or in this case, Wicked Annabelle.

The Rolling Stone met Wicked Annabelle in a bar on the edge of the outskirts; that is, not in the outskirts but just inside inner city. Before he knew it, they were seeing more of each other and before he knew it they were getting hitched. And then, he really got to know her—she was a junkie, a lowlife junkie. She bought from the lowlife dealers…