Rowen Aether's Blog: The Realms of Fantasy - Posts Tagged "misguided-virtues"
Look! Words!
For decades we have always tried to fit inside of a mold. Well I never fit, my boobs always got in the way. Naturally, neither does my writing. So I set fire to the mold and roasted marshmallows.
Some books are like old friends. You pick up a book in a particular genre because you know what you're going to get. I've picked up books only to stop midway, already knowing what's going to happen because they all follow a pattern. It takes the fun out of reading.
Some books are like new friends. Sometimes you just want something different; I'm your new friend. :D
A red headed woman comes marching into the room, waving my manuscript over her head.
"Have you read this?!" she asks me, "There are zombies!"
I offer her my most dead pan of expressions, "I wrote it."
A dark skinned man in a NYPD uniform with bright blue eyes pokes his head into the room. "Don't forget the aliens."
Cassandra, the red head, whips around to stare at him. "Seriously?!"
Rayorian struts into the room, his snow white jacket melodramatically flapping behind him and brushes his brown locks from his eyes. He's so theatrical; what was I thinking when I wrote him?
He turns his focus to the cop, holding up a finger, "We had one job, Vince, one fu**ing job."
The cop snorts, "I think we blew it, man."
Ray turns a sharp gaze to me, "Did you just asterisk me?"
"Yes, yes I did." I throw the stack of papers I'm holding into the air. "You guys are going completely off script!" I yell.
A man with black and red hair sticks his head into the room. "Were we suppose to read that? I just made little origami animals."
"Lucipher, no; that's not what those were for!" I reply. I snatch the nearest object, a Pepsi bottle, and throw it at him.
He ducks out of the room, my ears catching his "I don't get hazard pay!" retort.
I point to the door, addressing the other three still in the room. "Out! Everyone out! This blog's over!"
*Note to reader: Don't be fooled, Author does not appear in books.
Some books are like old friends. You pick up a book in a particular genre because you know what you're going to get. I've picked up books only to stop midway, already knowing what's going to happen because they all follow a pattern. It takes the fun out of reading.
Some books are like new friends. Sometimes you just want something different; I'm your new friend. :D
A red headed woman comes marching into the room, waving my manuscript over her head.
"Have you read this?!" she asks me, "There are zombies!"
I offer her my most dead pan of expressions, "I wrote it."
A dark skinned man in a NYPD uniform with bright blue eyes pokes his head into the room. "Don't forget the aliens."
Cassandra, the red head, whips around to stare at him. "Seriously?!"
Rayorian struts into the room, his snow white jacket melodramatically flapping behind him and brushes his brown locks from his eyes. He's so theatrical; what was I thinking when I wrote him?
He turns his focus to the cop, holding up a finger, "We had one job, Vince, one fu**ing job."
The cop snorts, "I think we blew it, man."
Ray turns a sharp gaze to me, "Did you just asterisk me?"
"Yes, yes I did." I throw the stack of papers I'm holding into the air. "You guys are going completely off script!" I yell.
A man with black and red hair sticks his head into the room. "Were we suppose to read that? I just made little origami animals."
"Lucipher, no; that's not what those were for!" I reply. I snatch the nearest object, a Pepsi bottle, and throw it at him.
He ducks out of the room, my ears catching his "I don't get hazard pay!" retort.
I point to the door, addressing the other three still in the room. "Out! Everyone out! This blog's over!"
*Note to reader: Don't be fooled, Author does not appear in books.
The Realms of Fantasy
Let's try to curb some apocalyptic tendencies. (It's an inside joke; laugh)
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