I was on a ship.
And it wasn’t mine.
I was on a ship, stuck in a pond, forced to watch the sun dip behind the ocean, all while stuck on this ship that wasn’t mine, in a pond that was unfamiliar to me, in a land that I only knew from a dream long ago.
I was stuck on this ship.
In this pond.
Watching the sun set over the horizon. Promising stars and guidance on the other side of the skyline. Out there, in the wild of the ocean, I could sail. Guided by thousands of burning lights.
I was stuck.
On this ship that wasn’t mine.
In this infinitesimally small pond.
Int his land that was completely foreign to me.
No, this ship, and this pond, and this land… it definitely wasn’t mine.
It was his. Continue reading “Breaking From The Pond”
Silently, I watched my father’s hound rush off. Bouncing through the grass to get the goose. Giddy. Proud to make his master happy.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and collect the geese Holt?” my brother asked, not an ounce of venom in his tone. “You’d be faster than Finn.”
My dad hit him lightly. Smacking him gently with the butt of his rifle as the words floated and sank, digging into the earth.
“Don’t say things like that to your brother. He’s a werewolf, not a dog. It’s a legitimate condition,” Dad snarled.
My brother didn’t mean anything by it. Not at all. It was a suggestion made by a young mind. Someone who doesn’t quite understand.
I think about it all the time. Continue reading “Wolf Hound”
Hey everybody! It’s been a few weeks, so I thought y’all might like an update (spoiler alert: I am actually a tad bit southern, sorry).
For those who don’t know, I wrote a book. It’s about werewolves! (go figure) And you can check it out FOR FREE here.
So, here are the stats as they stand: Continue reading “Another Book Update!”
We are all afraid of something. It doesn’t matter how young you are, or how old, everyone is afraid of something.
And, sometimes, the fears we have are common. Or, at the very least, have common roots.
A lot of people fear those. They fear them because they fear what’s out there. What they don’t know:
That’s the root.
It’s a common fear.
One that comes to light all the time. One that gets shoved into our faces all the time, whether we realize it or not. Because there are a lot of things that are unknowns.
That’s why they were afraid of him.
Why I was afraid of him.
I didn’t know how to respond. How to react. He was an unknown. A giant question mark sitting in my classroom.
It didn’t occur to me until later, but:
We were question marks to him, too. Continue reading “Lone Wolf”
There’s something satisfying about smashing things. About watching them break and crumble. About watching them shatter, or crack. It was just… satisfying. To see that something out there was a million times for fragile than you could ever be. To be able to break something without hurting someone. It was refreshing.
It was a nice way to let go of some anger.
That’s for damn sure.
I haphazardly tossed another plate up, into the air above me. High enough to give myself time.
Time to ready the bat.
And time to swing.
When the bat connected, there was a satisfying chink and clatter as the plate was decimated. Undone. Guts made of glass exploded outward, scattering over the dirt.
I took a steady breath, exhaling and grinning.
Then I picked up another plate. Continue reading “Break Through”
Okay, so, looking at the site, it takes my analytics as well as votes into consideration. For example, even if I were to get a hundred votes, if there were no reads on my story, it’d be bubkiss. They wouldn’t consider me for publication. So, the way to support my book (if you want to, and I absolutely, positively love and appreciate if you do) would be to read it through. And get others to read it, if you can. Or if they’re interested. (I get if the subject material isn’t one-hundred percent for you, its about werewolves and survival and there’s some gore stuff in it. But, if you like it, and you want to support me, that would be the way to go about it.)
Things the site takes into consideration the most is read-through. So, if it looks like readers are reading all the way through my story, it’ll still be more likely considered for publication than someone whose book was started a million times, but not a single reader finished it. And every time someone starts OR continues to read my story, the analytics counts it as a “read”. And the amount of “reads” you get is the deciding factor in if they will/will not consider you for publication.
I’m truly and sincerely sorry for the headache, and thank you so much if you’re still reading these updates and sticking it out with me.
Sorry I am SOOOOOOOOOOO bad at technology and stuff.
Truly and sincerely sorry.
Truly and sincerely, thank you!!!!!!!!
People can be so unassuming.
Like, they act one way, but think in an entirely different way. Someone might seem like some punkass kid, but then, it turns out they’re very tender. Or someone might seem quiet and shy, but they’d really be able to punch you so hard your eyes would shoot out the back of your skull. It’s crazy to think that there are people like that.
But, there sure are.
And she was definitely the most interesting one of all.
Definitely. Continue reading “Twinkle On, Little Stars”
I was frantic.
And frantic was a word that I’d never used to describe myself before. Ever.
But, in that moment, that was what I was.
I was fumbling around, looking like a madman. Moving quickly, erratically. Up, under, around, about, and everything in between.
I checked everywhere.
Under the desks. In my backpack. On top of the shelf. I even took apart some lunch boxes, just to see if someone had slipped them inside. But, in the end, I came up empty.
Which is why I was frantic.
“Where the hell did I put them?” I grumbled to myself.
Obviously, I wasn’t expecting an answer. Continue reading “Big Bite”
There was a guy once who had to hold up the world.
Atlas. That’s what they called him.
In the place where the earth meets the sky, Atlas sat. And he held the world apart from the sky. Kept the heavens from crashing down into us. Kept them from crushing us.
People still talk about Atlas. How strong he was.
But people tend to forget.
Atlas wasn’t there by choice.
He didn’t hold the world up because he thought it was a noble thing to do.
Atlas was being punished. Continue reading “Atlas, the Worst”
People are running away from me, screaming. Scrambling to get away. To get across the street, to get inside a building, to get away. Their panic makes cars screech and honk and then peel out, away from the sidewalk where I’m walking. Taking my casual stroll.
Even if I’m lost. Even if all I want right now is some directions. Even if the sirens are closing in.
It just means that they know who I am now. That they know what I’ve done. That I’m being taken seriously.
Finally. Continue reading “Beast of Myself”