Vashti Quiroz-Vega's Blog, page 49
October 24, 2014
The Search for the Last Flower – Short Story Series
Hi everyone! Thank you for visiting my blog. I’ve been working on this story for a while now. I was supposed to post the first installment of this short series two weeks ago but the story took on a life of its own. It’s finally done and it’s a little longer than I had anticipated. So I will be posting three times a week until the end. I hope you will follow the series all the way through. I appreciate any feedback you leave in the comments below. Thank you and enjoy. ♥
The Search for the Last Flower
by Vashti Quiroz-Vega
“Something’s wrong.” Clarice’s heart thumped.
Dylan, her assistant, stared at her wide-eyed.
“She’s in a lot of pain, her face is pallid, and her pulse is weak,” she told him. “Get Dr. Johnson––hurry!” Clarice had to yell over the woman’s screams of pain.
“Where is he?” Dylan gawped at her. Clarice scowled and he gulped, nodded and ran out of the hut in search of the doctor.
The heat in the jungle was stifling. Clarice wiped the sweat off her brow and passed her hand over Flaviá’s head.
Flaviá gazed at her with imploring dark brown eyes and cried out in her native language, which was some sort of Portuguese dialect. Clarice did not understand a word. “Try to calm down.” Clarice held the tribeswoman’s hand, but her own hand trembled. Flavía howled as the next wave of contractions assailed her body.
“Don’t push yet.” Clarice instructed her to do her breathing exercises, but she knew she was beyond that. “We must wait for Dr. Johnson. The baby may be breeched.”
It was Clarice’s first trip to the Amazon basin and her first time assisting in the birth of a tribal woman’s baby. This was an unknown tribe they had stumbled upon during a routine flight into Brazil. While taking a different route to fly around a storm, they had spotted the village in a clearing surrounded on all sides by jungle.
There was something peculiar about the tribespeople of this village. From what she had learned in the few weeks she’s been there, these people seemed to know little of pain or death. There was a sort of happy innocence about them, as if they had been shielded from the dark side of life. But now they might experience a rude awakening, and she did not know what that spelled for her, Dylan, or the doctor. Things were not going well.
Moments later, Dr. Johnson hurried into the hut, trailed by Dylan. The doctor knelt by the pregnant woman and grabbed her wrist. “Her pulse is very weak. How long has she been in labor?”
“Two hours,” Clarice panted. “She was doing fine and then she began complaining of pain. She’s been screaming ever since, and has become ashen and frail.”
“What did you give her?” The doctor rummaged through his medical bag.
“What do you mean?” Clarice stared at him.
“You are a nurse practitioner and midwife.” The doctor raised his voice, which made Dylan jump. “Must I tell you everything?”
Clarice felt heat rise to her face, and her cheeks turned a deep pink. She glanced at Dylan and then set her sights on the doctor. “Yes, Dr. Johnson, I am a nurse and midwife, but I am also a Christian missionary. These people do not condone the use of narcotics, especially during childbirth. They would rather die. I will not deceive them.”
Flaviá, who had been wailing in pain the entire time, abruptly became quiet. Dr. Johnson and Clarice stopped glowering at each other and looked her way. The woman began to shake and convulse. Clarice hurried to hold her down so that she wouldn’t hurt herself.
Dr. Johnson positioned himself between her legs. Blood was gushing from her. “There’s not much more we can do for her, she’s hemorrhaging profusely, and I can’t stop the bleeding.” Dr. Johnson pushed down on Flaviá’s belly, trying to guide the baby into the right position. “We may still be able to save the baby.”
Flaviá winced and groaned in pain, her dark eyes rolling back in her head. She became quiet.
“Flaviá, Flaviá!” Clarice cried into her hands. “Oh God, I think she’s dead.”
Dr. Johnson sucked his teeth. “Auscultate her and document the time of death!”
Clarice placed the cold diaphragm of her stethoscope on Flaviá’s chest and searched desperately for a heartbeat. “There’s no cardiac activity.”
“Of course not, because dead people don’t usually have heartbeats.” Dr. Johnson sucked his teeth, looked at his watch and stated the time of death.
Clarice and Dylan stared at the doctor, stunned by his cold response.
“From what I’ve gathered from speaking to the tribesmen, these people had not experienced a death in over a hundred years,” the doctor said matter-of-factly. “We don’t know how the tribe will react to the death of their elder’s wife.” Dylan gasped. Clarice felt lightheaded. “Hopefully, they will be too busy celebrating the birth of a healthy–––ah yes, baby boy—to care.” The doctor pulled the plump male infant out, causing the baby to begin crying.
Upon hearing the baby’s cry, the tribes’ elder, Flaviá’s husband, walked into the hut. His broad grin transformed into a horrified grimace when he saw his wife’s limp body sprawled in a pool of blood. He glared at Dr. Johnson and stormed out, yelling something even the doctor did not understand.
They heard a lot of activity outside the door. Dr. Johnson looked at Clarice, his brow knit tightly.
“What is happening?” Clarice’s chest heaved.
Dylan shrugged, shook his head, and bit his lower lip.
“Dylan, go see what’s going on,” Clarice said. Dylan turned to go.
“No, Dylan, stay.” Dr. Johnson extended his arm. “Let the tribe mourn in their own way.”
Dylan glanced at Clarice with a confused expression. Clarice gestured for him to come back. “It’s okay, Dylan. Stay and help us clean and prepare Flaviá’s body.”
Dr. Johnson handed the crying infant to Clarice in a rough manner. Clarice put the baby boy gently on the ground beside her and began the revolting task of cleaning the blood and preparing Flavía for whatever death ritual this tribe had in mind. Dylan helped her, while the doctor sat back and watched.
Clarice propped the dead woman’s head on a small pillow. The doctor sucked his teeth and looked sideways. Clarice ignored him and swore to herself that she would never again accompany him on a mission.
Dylan passed a wet rag over Flaviá’s face. Clarice saw that his hands were trembling. She gently took the rag from him and decided to finish the job herself.
“How old do you think she is––was?” Dylan stared at the dead woman’s face.
Clarice regarded her. “I’m not sure because––”
Flaviá’s eyes snapped open. Clarice screamed and Dylan jumped back. The doctor came closer and scrutinized her.
“It’s just a reflex.” Dr. Johnson reached into his bag for a stethoscope and auscultated her. “There’s no cardiac activity. She is definitely dead.”
Flaviá’s hand began to twitch and her arm flexed. She sat upright, turned her head sluggishly toward Clarice, and stared.
“How is she alive?” Clarice gasped and recoiled.
“I thought you said she was dead!” Dylan’s lips quivered as he moved away.
“She had no heart beat––no pulse.” Dr. Johnson gaped at the woman.
Copyright © 2014 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.
Photograph of uncontacted tribe in Brazil
Thank you for reading the 1st installment of my series, The Search for the Last Flower. I will be posting a new part on Saturday 10/25/14 and another on Sunday 10/26/14. After that I will post 3 times a week until the series ends. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts. My readers’ feedback is always important to me. Thank you and have a great one! ♥
October 12, 2014
Screams of Eternity
Hello! I had to share this very entertaining and frightening story by Mel Douleur from Pushing Our Limits. Check it out! You won’t be disappointed.
Originally posted on Pushing our limits:
In honor of Hasty’s 31 days of Horror and Halloween, I decided to dedicate a piece to my missing friend, writer Eric Keys. A bit of horror that I’m sure he would love… Or find frightening. I hope you do, too.
Little Girl in the Wood - http://estelle-photographie.deviantart.com/art/Little-Girl-In-The-Wood-410007909
Strangled whimpers wafted through the tiny space, while his heavy breath puffed out visibly with each decisive movement into the chilled October air . Each winding of his rope, each tie of a knot, each jerk of her body to position it perfectly… painfully, but perfectly.
As he completed the task, he admired his work. The tight bindings had her naked body twisted and secured in such a way that she looked as though something might break at any moment. The shape created by her stretched and twisted limbs was truly satisfying. His sadistic chuckle brought about another muffled whimper, as she couldn’t quite make any other sound.
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October 4, 2014
Short Horror Story – Raven’s Masterpiece
Hello and welcome to my blog! I posted this horror short story last year. I was never quite satisfied with it. So I revised it, and hopefully made it better. I hope you enjoy it.
Raven and Nina – Bffs
“Lake Creepy-Crawly”
Nina & Raven
http://vashtiqvega.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/the_haunted_carousel_ball-stephen_burns.mp3 (^ CLICK PLAY for music track)
Raven’s Halloween Masterpieces
by Vashti Quiroz-Vega
“Raven, I can’t believe you’re really going through with it.” Nina’s face was frozen in an astonished smile.
“Once you and Travis leave for college, there’ll be nothing left for me in this small town.” Raven frowned. “Besides, I’m an artist, Nina! I need to expand my wings and fly!” She swung her arms outward and fell back on the grass surrounding Lake Creepy-Crawly.
“But . . . New York is such a big city. Aren’t you afraid you’ll be swallowed up by the masses?”
“I plan to shine bright like a Nova. By the time I’m through with that town, everyone will know my name.”
Nina glanced at Raven and giggled. Raven joined in her laughter and suddenly jumped to her feet.
“Lets go in!”
“Go in where?”
“Lets go for a swim in the lake. For old time’s sake.” Raven’s blue eyes glittered with mischievousness.
“No way! Why do you think the town nicknamed it Lake Creepy-Crawly? If you go in, you won’t be swimming alone. There are things in that lake. They’ll crawl all over you.”
“That’s not true!”
“It is!” Nina yelled. “No one has gone swimming there for years. Not since the incident.”
“Do you mean when the fish died?”
“It was more than just a few fish. Old man Sam said that the big company out by Expiry road had something to do with it. He saw them dump things into the lake one night. The next morning, the lake’s fish were floating on the surface. Dead.”
“Old man Sam drinks!”
“Yes, but he wasn’t the only one who witnessed the dead fish, and everyone knows that nothing grows or lives in that lake anymore, except . . . except those things.” Nina shuddered.
“It’s been a while since that happened.” Raven looked out to the lake. “Those things have probably always been there. Besides, they’re tiny.”
“They were tiny. With time, everything changes . . . and not always for the best.”
Without waiting for the end of Nina’s sentence, Raven ran and jumped into the lake and splashed around happily, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. A powerful feeling of foreboding enshrouded Nina like a suffocating blanket. When Raven finally emerged from the lake, Nina rushed to her.
“You’re nuts! Sometimes I think you just do crazy things to torment me.”
Raven scoffed. “Who’s being dramatic now, huh?”
Nina picked up the blanket they had been sitting on and placed it around Raven’s shoulders.
“Ugh!” Raven groaned. She tilted her head sideways and pounded on it with the palm of her hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“There must be water in my ear.” Raven shook her head. “There, I think that did it.”
“I don’t know how you could swim in that murky water. Look at it—it’s black!”
Raven waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go home.”
“Yes! You need a shower.” Nina giggled, pinching her nose and waving her hand as though to clear the stench in the air.
“Gimme hug! Me want big hug!” Raven joked as she ran after a screaming Nina.
*Two months later *
“Campus life is great! ” Nina raved on the phone. “I’m really enjoying myself here. I’m doing really well in my classes, and I’ve made some new friends. Oh, and Travis says hello!”
“That’s great. I’m doing okay, too. I’m painting almost non-stop. I showed one of my works in progress to the manager of a posh art gallery downtown. He was impressed and offered to show my work in early November.”
“That’s awesome, Raven!”
“Will you come for the opening?”
“But we talked about me visiting for Halloween, remember? To see how New York celebrates our favorite holiday?”
“You could stay through the first week of November,” Raven said in a sullen voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you ask?”
“You don’t sound like yourself. Aren’t you excited about Halloween and your very first art show?”
“Of course I am. It’s just these headaches . . . I can’t seem to shake.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“No. It’s only headaches. Two Advil, and I’ll be all right.”
“But if you can’t get rid of it—”
“The pills will help take the edge off so I can get back to work.”
“Alright, but if the headaches continue, you’ll need to see someone.”
“Yeah, well . . . If I want to have these paintings done by the opening, I’d better get back to work. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Okay. Bye, Raven. Take care.”
*One month later*
“Aaaahhhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Get out of there!” Raven pounded her head. She collapsed to the floor and pulled her hair with both hands. She screamed and groaned as she squirmed on the floor of her one-bedroom apartment.
A banging on the door did not stop her howling.
“Miss Raven! Open the door, Miss Raven!” An old woman banged on the door. “That racket is driving everybody crazy!”
Raven opened the door. Her long dark hair was disheveled and covered a good portion of her face. Her shoulders were scrunched around her ears. Her blue eyes, once vivid azures, were now dull and foggy, with intense redness where the whites should be and deep dark circles underneath. Her usually rosy lips were pale and dry.
At the sight of her, the building superintendent flinched and squinted, as though trying not to capture all the unpleasantness at once. “Are you ill?” She stared at her wringing her hands.
“No. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look too good. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“A doctor can’t help me with what I’ve got!” Raven bellowed making the woman jump. “You need to leave me alone.”
“I have received countless complaints from your neighbors about screaming, loud banging and crashing noises coming from your apartment.”
“You keep knocking on my door!”
“And each time you tell me that the noises will stop, but I keep getting complaints from your neighbors.” She added with a grumble, “If the noises don’t stop, I’ll have to call the police.”
“I assure you–––the complaints will stop.”
The superintendent narrowed her eyes. “Make sure they do. I don’t want to come back here again.” She turned and shuffled away.
Raven followed the old woman with her eyes until she was out of sight.
*
“Hello, Raven. How are you? I’ve been calling and leaving messages, but you never return my calls.”
“Hi, Nina!” Raven said in an excited voice.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m great!”
“Why are you yelling? You sound manic. Are you sure you’re fine?”
“I’m just excited to hear from you. I’m sorry about not returning your calls. I’ve been very busy, working on my paintings. I’m all done now! I have left over materials, so I’m using them to decorate for Halloween. You’re still coming up, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good! I’m throwing a Halloween party! I’ve invited some friends and neighbors. You’re going to love what I’ve done with the place.”
*All Hollow’s Eve*
“Raven is going to be surprised to see you. I hope she doesn’t get angry,” Nina said.
“Why would she? I’m your date for the party.” Travis blinked at her and smiled.
“She hasn’t been herself lately. Sometimes on the phone, she seems despondent and her voice is barely audible; other times, her voice is excited and shrill. But the last time we spoke, it was more like a groan or a growl.”
Travis scrunched his brow. “That weird.”
“She’s been having these terrible headaches, but she refuses to see a doctor. I’ve been calling her all day, but I haven’t been able to reach her. And yet, she knows I’m arriving today. I hope she’s okay.”
“Well, she’s throwing a Halloween party. How bad could she be?” Travis said. “She’s probably busy putting the party together.”
“You’re right. Halloween was always our favorite holiday. She’s probably knee-deep in Halloween décor right now. It’s going to be fun.” Nina tried to force a smile. “Anyway, thanks for coming with me.”
Travis and Nina approached Raven’s apartment building. They rang the buzzer several times, but no one answered. Travis pressed on the inner door, which swung open.
“Hello,” he called.
There was no answer, so Travis and Nina started up the stairs. When they reached Raven’s apartment , they found the door ajar.
“I was expecting festive lights and blaring music.” Travis glanced at Nina with a puzzled look on his face.
“Why is her door open?” Nina shook her head and bit her lower lip. The door creaked as she pushed on it, and they entered the dimly lit apartment. All the lights were off, except for a small lamp on an end table near the sofa. The curtains were drawn. The smell hit them almost immediately––rancid, jolting, evil—a stench to make the inside of their noses burn.
“Wow! She really went all out with the macabre theme.” Travis scanned the room his face pinched.
“What’s that smell?” Nina covered her nose and mouth with her hand.
“That is one of my best works,” a dark, sinister voice answered. Nina and Travis jolted and directed their eyes toward the voice. Nina’s legs faltered. If it weren’t for Travis, she would have fallen.
“Raven?” Nina gasped.
Raven’s skin appeared ashen and leathery. Her ratty, black hair framed her face like heavy curtains. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wore a raggedy long black dress.
“Do you like my painting?” Raven tottered toward her.
Nina reached for Travis’ hand and gave it a squeeze. “Your . . . painting?”
“Yes, come and have a look.”
Nina and Travis followed Raven deeper into the apartment. Nina’s heart pounded. A thin film of cold sweat covered Travis’ forehead.
“At first, I couldn’t figure out what my series of paintings should be about.” Raven waved a paintbrush like a conductor’s wand. “Then an explosion of light went off in my head. Why not make paintings of my neighbors gathered for a great supper?”
“Interesting concept.” There was a slight tremor in Travis’ voice.
Nina stepped closer to the painting to have a better look, but then backed away. The stench seemed to be coming from the painting itself. Its surface was slathered in deep red paint and there were rubbery objects attached – no doubt the type of props that gag shops offered around Halloween. Nina looked around. All of the walls were adorned with the dark red paintings.
“So, you like them?” Raven’s manic tone was back in her voice.
“Well . . . ” Nina gulped.
“I like your costume, Raven.” Travis fidgeted and glanced at Nina.
As Raven brought up her hand, Nina noticed that the handle of the wooden paintbrush had been sharpened to a point. Before Travis realized what was happening, Raven had stabbed him in the chest. He stumbled and fell on his back. Nina wailed, dropped to her knees and began to shake him. He lay still, his eyes wide open.
“Why Raven? Why?” Nina stared imploringly at the monster that was once her friend.
“I’m not wearing a costume.” Raven glared at Nina. “Do you like my paintings or not?”
Nina was sitting on the floor directly beneath one of the paintings. She peered at it through eyes blurred with tears.
“Well? What do you think?” Raven’s voice became angry and vicious.
Nina jolted and wiped the wetness from her eyes with trembling hands. She shuddered as she was finally able to see the painting for what it was. Those rubbery objects attached to its surface weren’t from the gag shop – they were real intestines, brains, hearts, tongues, spleens, and who knows what else. How many people died here? Her stomach churned, and she felt lightheaded.
“Tell me!” Raven stared at her with a wolfish expression. Then she became calm and studied Nina’s face. Suddenly, Raven said cheerfully, “If you don’t like it I can always improve it.”
Raven lurched over to Travis’ body and grabbed his head, lifting it by the hair. She buried the tip of the large paintbrush into the tear duct and popped the eyeball out. She did the same with the other eye to the rhythm of Nina’s wails. She grabbed the eyeballs dangling on his cheeks and yanked them from the optic nerve. Nina felt an expansion in her head and a weakness throughout her body. She retched several times.
She can’t have a fainting fit. She has to get to her feet! Nina’s eyes shifted to the door. Raven stood between her and the exit.
“Here we go. Much better, right?” Raven attached Travis’ eyes to the bowl of soup in the painting. The painted bowl was now crowded with eyeballs. “My neighbors were always watching me, so I decided to paint an homage to their prying eyes.”
Nina screamed. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. Trembling, she clambered to her feet.
“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t be happy for me!” Raven twitched with rage. “I knew you wouldn’t like my work. Well––I have a few more improvements to make, but for the final touches, I’ll need something from you.”
Raven lunged at Nina, clutching her filed paintbrush.
Nina’s legs started moving, as though on automatic pilot. Her heart beat loudly in her ears.
Raven chased her, howling ghoulishly.
Nina ran to the kitchen. Her eyes darted. She spotted a large knife sitting on the counter. She grabbed it and held it in front of her. Her mind raced and she panted.
Raven charged and ran into Nina’s extended arm, which held the knife. Raven stared into Nina’s eyes and moaned. Nina thought she heard her murmur, Thank you.
Nina released hold of the knife, and Raven slid to the floor. Nina kneeled next to her and rocked back and forth, sobbing. Her mind was unable to fully grasp what had just happened.
“Why? Why did you do this? Raven . . . why?”
She saw the answer to her question as Raven took her last breath. They crawled out of her ear by the dozens—the wiggly wormy things she recognized from their hometown lake. The parasites were vacating Raven’s head, no longer having a live brain to feed on.
Copyright © 2013 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.
Edible Body Parts –– Bread!
Okay, before you guys go off the deep end, let me explain. The images of the human body parts are unsettling I know, but guess what? They’re actually bread. Yes! Your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Thai artist and baker Kittiwat Unarrom creates these edible bread sculptures and sells them at his family’s bakery!
I don’t think I’d be able to put any of this bread in my mouth without retching, but hey, if you’ve ever fantasized about eating a person zombie-style hop on a plane to Thailand and visit Kittiwat’s bakery and you can do it legally. Read more about this Body Part Bakery and The Walking Bread here. Check out this video.
Yes, all of this is edible!
October 1, 2014
Pumpkins, Fog Bubbles & Glitter, oh my!
Oh my gourd! We’re in October already! I love the month of October. I enjoy fall decorating and seeing all my family, friends, and neighbors’ decorations as well. Last year I wrote a series of scary stories and articles leading up to Halloween. Many of you really enjoyed that. So I plan to do the same this year. However, I wanted to begin the month by sharing some elegant, whimsical, scary, and fun fall decorating ideas. Hopefully this will inspire you to decorate your home or at least the entrance to your house. Some of you are planning to throw a fall or Halloween party. I’m going to share some fun ideas that will help you with that also. Enjoy!
There are so many awesome decorations we can make using pumpkins.
The Budget Decorator shows us 13 Easy and Inexpensive Fall Decorating Ideas
I love this simple yet elegant idea. ⇓
Denim Pumpkin! This is so cute! At Between Naps on the Porch you can learn how to decorate a pumpkin like this.
At Sidetracked Sarah you can find many creative ways to decorate with pumpkins from Jack-O-Lanterns to elegant centerpieces.
You’ll find some cool pumpkin decorating ideas at The Boo and the Boy
Love this! ⇓ Looks like a lot of work, but I think it could be worth it. Especially if you’re having a party or get together.
I ♥ glitter! What is it about these sparkly, colorful little particles that make me turn all girlie? Get in touch with your girlie side. Kirsten from 6th Street Design will show you how you can make your own glittery leave garland.
You can create this adorable pumpkin family. Just visit AllYou for easy to follow instructions.
Are you throwing a Halloween party? These are some fantastic ideas! Your family and friends will be amused.
You can project spooky animations on your windows or garage door with DVDs from Hallowindow!
Target has a new Bubble Fogger Machine. It blows bubbles and when they burst they release fog. How creepy is that?
How about Drink Labels? You can label your wine, liquor or even your water bottles with Zombie Virus, Witches Poison, Wicked Remedy, Swamp Water . . . you get the picture. You can buy some here or make your own. Download FREE labels from here.
I love these HGTV lighted witches’ brooms for the front walk.
Great Halloween decoration ideas from CuriousSofa.com
Painted acorns! How pretty is this? Learn how to do it with Beth from Home Stories A to Z
Fabric wrapped pumpkins. What a great idea for your tablescapes or mantels. Get them here.
What are your plans for this month? Do you celebrate Halloween? Are you throwing a party?
September 19, 2014
Why I Think This World Should End
Some of you read the title to this post and were probably shocked by it. It isn’t like me––an optimist––to post something like this. It isn’t what you think. I watched this video and it moved me to tears. There’s so much truth in his words. Some people will be offended––the truth offends some people. If I offend you it’s not what I wanted. I believe this video should be watched and shared. You let me know what you think in the comments below.
Why I Think This World Should End
YouTube – Prince Ea
If you don’t know what ‘twerking’ is, look here.
Over 30 San Diego Students Suspended For a Twerking Video!
Destruction of Forests in India
Florida zombie attack victim – Ron Poppo
September 13, 2014
I Love Animals!
Whale by Brian Skerry (Photograph)
I just got a puppy, and I’d like to introduce you to the new addition to my family. His name is ‘Scribbles’ and he’s a Pomeranian with a rare wolf sable color. I had forgotten how active puppies can be. He has me running in circles, but boy, do I love this little guy––already!
Scribbles
So in honor of Scribbles, I decided to write a post about animals. I love people, I really do, but sometimes I wonder if I don’t love animals more. Everyone who knows me well knows that I have great affection and respect for animals. I even incorporate them into my stories.
I found this online, and I thought it would be invaluable information for any dog owner.
Interview With A Dog
the silence is broken
We asked a dog to pull aside the shroud of secrecy and be interviewed. He asked that his name not be used, but for the good of all dogs he agreed to share these ten insights with humans.
1) My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you will be painful to me. Remember that before you buy me.
2) Give me some time to understand what you want from me.
3) Place your trust in me. It’s crucial to my well-being.
4) Don’t be angry with me for long, and don’t isolate me as punishment. You have your work, your entertainment and your friends. I only have you.
5) Talk to me sometimes. Even if I don’t understand your words––I understand your voice.
6) Be aware that however you treat me, I will not be able to forget it.
7) Remember before you hit me that I have powerful teeth, but I choose not to use them.
8) Before you scold me for being uncooperative, obstinate or lazy, ask yourself if something might be wrong with me. Perhaps I’m not getting the right food, or I’ve been out in the sun too long, or my heart is getting older and weaker.
9) Take care of me when I get old. You’ll be old one day.
10) Go with me on difficult journeys. Never say: “I can’t watch, it’s too painful.” Everything is easier when you are with me.
And through it all:
Remember that I love you. ♥
Here are some more reasons I love animals so much:
In a world lacking empathy and compassion animals put us humans to shame. ♥
True compassion: Elephants are among the most emotional creatures in the world. They have been known to rescue other animals.
Watch this video ⇓
Animals are so loving and affectionate. ♥ They each have their own personality and they know how to express themselves.
Sweet Capybaras
Donkeys
Someone was missed a whole lot!
Gorilla admiring the beauty of a butterfly.
Peek-A-Boo
Kitty enjoying the sun’s rays.
Blue Orchid Mantis (Hymenopus coronatus) Strike a pose! Ha,ha!
Kisses for baby.
Bffs
Someone has to do it . . .
Animals enjoy nature more than we do.
Nothing like cooling off after a long flight.
Weeee!
When was the last time you enjoyed a sunset
Enjoying the flowers.
Look what I can do mommy!
Arctic Fox – Ahhh! Fresh powder! That’s snow for all you non-skiers.
Animals are funny and entertaining.
Never give up! We could learn a lesson from this little turtle.
Hey! No drinking and flying!
Moooom! Not in front of the humans!
Anteater (Vermilingua) – They say red wine is good for the heart.
I’ll be here all night, folks!
The animal kingdom is amazing! Check out these unique creatures.
The Blue Footed Boobie
Ghost Bat
Pangolin
Tardigrade a.k.a. Water Bear
September 4, 2014
Risky Issues and Lorraine Reguly
It is my pleasure to present to you today a fellow writer and blogger Lorraine Reguly.
Author Lorraine Reguly
Risky Issues by Lorraine Reguly serves a very necessary and worthwhile function; it opens the door to conversation. We all know that children and teens these days face intense and tragic challenges, and we all know that these same youngsters have a tendency to keep it all inside (sometimes threatened by the people who prey on them). Caught up in the silent web of pain, lies and deceit, kids will often make bad decisions, while if they had been able to discuss the issues and get some rational feedback, they could often see things in a different light and rise above the challenges to create happy, successful lives for themselves. This book could make the difference. A survivor of abuse herself, Reguly has seen all sides of this experience and brings her hard-won wisdom to bear. All her stories reflect the heartbreaking emotion faced by so many children today, and all bring them to a crossroads where they can turn away from abuse and turn toward freedom and wholeness. This slim collection of stories could easily be the lifeline that saves a child from the mire, a slender thread to lead them from the darkness. Read it. Share it. Talk about it. The conversation starts here. ~ Melissa Bowersock, Award-Winning Author
In her words . . .
There is no doubt about it: fiction often mimics reality. Because of this, some of the stories in Risky Issues – although fictional – are based on real events. The first story, The Secrets of the Study, is about a girl who enters her father’s study to get some blank printer paper but instead finds papers that reveal she is adopted. To compound things, her father catches her… The second story, Pamela in the Park, is about a teenage girl who is out past curfew and is supposed to meet a temperamental drug dealer in the park to give him back some drugs she was holding for him. He doesn’t show up, but a policeman does… The third story, The Day Adam Saw Red, is about sexual abuse. Adam, a victim, gives a speech to his class about this topic, and then goes outside to sit under an oak tree to ponder his dire situation, as his speech was a masked cry for help. He is befriended by the school custodian, who is thought to be “creepy” but who takes the time to speak to him to help solve his problem… In the final story, My Best Friend, a young girl finds out that her Grandma’s dog died. She thinks of Snoopy as her own, and is devastated… The reason I have decided to share these stories with the world is to help spread awareness about some of the issues that children, teens, and even young adults may struggle with, including – and especially – the issue of sexual abuse. I am a rape survivor. I was raped when I was a fourteen-year-old virgin by a man over twice my age. I also told no one about this experience for years, as I didn’t know who to turn to, and it wasn’t until I became an adult that I sought counselling. I also had a male friend who, as a child, was molested by his stepfather for years. Unfortunately for my friend, the outcome was quite different from the one in The Day Adam Saw Red. It is my hope that those who are in similar situations can find the strength and the courage to speak out about their fears and experiences instead of holding their secrets inside – whatever these secrets or issues may be. It’s tough enough being a child, but being a child with no one to speak to is even harder. Let’s change that. Now.
Q & A with Lorraine Reguly
What inspired you to write the short stories in Risky Issues?
I actually wrote all four stories found in Risky Issues for a creative writing course. I had written them by hand, typed them up, and then converted them into an eBook. Of course, I did a bit of rewriting and editing before I released them to the world, based on the valuable feedback I received from my beta readers. The only one I did not change was the bonus story, as it was published as a blog post on one of my websites, and still can be found at http://wordingwell.com/my-best-friend/.
Is the eBook, Risky Issues, based on real life stories or is it a fiction?
Risky Issues is comprised of four stories. Of the three fictional stories, two are very much reality-based. The bonus story is one hundred percent true, while the basis for the third story stems from the life of one my best friend who was abused by his stepfather each time his mother went to Bingo. Unfortunately, my friend was alienated from his mother when he told her of the abuse… which he, sadly, didn’t reveal for years. When he did, his mother did not believe him.
The stories in my book have “happy” endings, though. I wanted to present these serious issues in as positive a light as possible.
Have you or someone close to you ever abused drugs or been abused?
This is a loaded question. I’ve known many people who’ve both been abused – physically, sexually, emotionally – and have been a victim of all types of abuse, too.
I’ve also known numerous people who have abused drugs, and I’ve abused drugs, too. Ironically, I used drugs in an attempt to deal with sexual abuse I suffered when I was raped. (I was 14 years old, and a virgin at the time. I also told no one about my rape for years.)
Did someone close to you die recently?
Luckily, I’ve not lost any friends or relatives to death for a few years, with the exception of a few family pets.
Are these stories for teens or for parents/adults?
These stories are for everyone, really… teens, tweens, young adults, and even parents or grandparents. I don’t really like to say, “Hey, this is for only teenagers. If you’re over 18, please don’t read it!” In fact, sometimes adults *should* read stories that are written for a younger audience, to help with communication as well as to enjoy a “lighter” read.
In addition, the issues raised in these stories could – and should – be read by both parents and children alike. I would have to say that I think the youngest reader would ideally be about 11 years of age. I say this because some of the vocabulary used may not be understood by younger readers. However, it seems like kids are getting smarter and smarter these days, so if it’s okay with their parents or guardians, I’d say, “Go for it!”
There are three more reasons parents should read Risky Issues. One, it will help them connect with their children. Two, it may help them face some of their own issues, if they have any. Finally, it will also reinforce some of the morals and values they are trying to instill in their children. I don’t think any parent can ever get enough of that!
6. What are you working on now?
I am working on my second book, Letters to Julian. It’s a collection of letters I wrote to my son throughout his life.
7. What genre would you say your book, Risky Issues fall under?
Risky Issues is a work of fiction, and is a collection of short stories geared toward teens and tweens, so I’d have to say Juvenile Fiction and Short Story would be the two genres it falls under.
8. Are you in this for the love of money, or the love of writing?
I doubt any writer is in it for the money. Writers write because they love to write, and I am no exception.
9. Which phrase in your book are you most proud of?
Truthfully, the last line of the poem that is included in the book is my pride and joy. Read the poem. You’ll likely agree. http://wordingwell.com/in-ones-eyes/ is a direct link to it.
10. Did you write your book in chronological order? Which part of your book did you write last?
The stories in Risky Issues were all written about six years after I wrote the poem. I wrote the front and back matter (Note from the Author, Acknowledgements, etc.) this past year when I put the book together. The bonus story was written last year, and it’s actually a true story, too, even though my book falls under the category of Juvenile Fiction.
Lorraine’s Links:
I blog on both Wording Well and on Lorraine Reguly: Laying It Out There (where readers can subscribe to my Author Newsletter).
Facebook author page
Follow me on Twitter
Connect with me on LinkedIn
Get connected via my author page on Google+
Become a fan on Goodreads
Find me on Shelfari
Find me on Librarything
Buy Risky Issues on Google Books or from Amazon – USA – Australia – United Kingdom -
Don’t forget to write a review! :)
At what age do you feel you should talk to a child about serious issues such as drug abuse or death? Would you rather be the one to talk to your kids about these issues, maybe using a tool like ‘Risky Issues’, or do you prefer a teacher have that talk with them?
August 28, 2014
Work-In-Progress Blog Challenge
Hi, everyone! I was asked by author Bianca Sloane to participate in the ‘Work-In-Progress Blog Challenge,’ and I accepted. Bianca Sloane writes suspense novels about the dark side of love. I am currently reading her novel, ‘Sweet Little Lies’ and so far, I find it riveting.
Author Bianca Sloane
Bianca’s second novel, ‘Live and Let Die,’ was chosen as ‘Thriller of the Month’ (May 2013) by e-thriller.com
When Bianca Sloane is not writing, she’s watching Bravo TV, Investigation Discovery, reading or cooking. You can find out more about this talented author on her website and blog.
For this challenge, I must post the first line from each of the first three chapters in my work-in-process (WIP). Then I must select four other writers to do the same.
I have several WIP, but I’ve chosen ‘The Fall of Lilith’ for this challenge. ‘The Fall of Lilith’ is a Dark Fantasy aimed at a young adult/adult audience. This novel is divided into two parts: BOOK I – Heaven, and BOOK II – Earth. Therefore, I will be posting the first line of the first three chapters of both parts. Now, this is indeed a challenge. Revealing a tiny fragment of one’s work is a scary thing for any writer to do, since the entire work might be judged on those few lines.
(BOOK I – Heaven)
Chapter 1
Conflict
The War in Heaven raged on around Lilith, the cacophony of screams, howls, and wails threatening to make her mad.
Chapter 2
In The Beginning
Before He created the universe, God was present.
Chapter 3
Developing Attractions
The angels in Heaven were as numerous as the stars, all with distinguishing characteristics and potentials.
(Book II – Earth)
Chapter 27
Lilith’s Fate
Lilith fell to Earth, crashing through trees, feeling the collision with every branch she broke along the way.
Chapter 28
Gadreel’s Brutal Encounters
Gadreel tumbled from Heaven, bawling all the while. As she fell, she trembled with fear and regret, but still she could not stop thinking about Samael.
Chapter 29
The Angry Mountain
For many miles, over many long days and short nights, stopping only for rest, Lilith and Gadreel followed the penetrating, shrill sound through the grassland.
Now for the four writers I have challenged:
For more about these writers click on their names. I can’t wait to read about what these writers are working on!
August 20, 2014
Writing Process Blog Hop!
Hello! I hope everyone is having a wonderful day so far. Welcome to my blog. My lovely friend, Yolanda Isabel Regueira Marin, has invited me to participate in a writing process blog hop. Yolanda is a very talented poet and writer, and you can read and enjoy her work in her blog: Life Love and Other Catastrophes. Please check out her poems, you will not be disappointed.
RULES:
Introduce who referred the blog tour to you.
Answer the following 4 questions:
1) What am I working on?
2) How does my work differ from others in its genre?
3) Why do I write what I do?
4) How does my writing process work?
Introduce the people you’re passing this on to who will then post a week later.
***Since I have participated in the Writing Process Blog Hop a couple of times already I decided to change the questions up a little for the sake of not boring my readers to death. Those of you who will continue this blog hop can of course answer the original questions listed above. You can check out my other blog hops here and here. Thanks!
1- Is there a certain type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others? Love? Action? Racy?
I find romantic scenes particularly challenging, even more so than erotic ones. I believe it’s because to me, a romantic gesture should be touching, extraordinary and enchanting in order to feel genuine—otherwise it’s just another cheesy line in a story. When I write a romantic scene, I want the reader—whether male or female—to stop and savor the moment. That’s very difficult to do, and I wish I could say that I always achieve that.
2- Is there one subject you would never write about as an author? What is it?
I would never write about my family or friends because instead of a non-fiction novel, it would turn out to be a comedy/horror novel. Ha, ha! Just kidding!
3- Do you read your reviews? Do you respond to them, good or bad? Do you have any advice on how to deal with the bad?
Oh, boy! I remember when I published my first book, The Basement. I was getting all great reviews, and then I received my first dreaded two-star review. I felt like my world was collapsing around me. I was saddened, disappointed, and angry—all because of this one review. To add insult to injury, the person did not even have the decency to tell me why he gave me such a low rating. Well, I ranted and raved about it. I didn’t know any better. It was my first published book. I still couldn’t believe I had written a full-length novel or that I got it published, and I became very emotional about this insignificant, wordless review. I finally contacted the reviewer, which I know now never to do, and asked him why he gave me a two-star review. “What was it about the book you didn’t like?” I asked. Do you know what he told me? (Of course you don’t.) He told me not to take it personally. He said he had a friend whose book was in the same category as mine, and I was a slot ahead of him on the Goodreads list. What? I didn’t even respond to such nonsense.
Well, since then I have learned a great deal. Most reviewers will give you a good explanation as to why they’ve given you a good or bad review, and you can learn from their critique. Whether you choose to read the reviews or not, just remember that not everyone is going to like your book, no matter how good it may be. There are books that I absolutely loved that received several terrible reviews. Even novels from my favorite writers—Anne Rice, Stephen King, Dan Brown . . . And there have been books that I just couldn’t finish because they bored me silly, which have gotten great reviews from other readers who did enjoy them.
4- Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
Sitting next to Ridley Scott or Wolfgang Petersen, the director of a movie based on one of my epic fantasies, at the Academy Awards. All joking aside, I hope to still have the passion and drive to write, and to still be writing novels.
5- How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?
I think names are very important—at least the names of your main character and other important characters. For my novel The Basement, I did a Google search for the most popular names for kids between the ages of 11-13, since those were the ages of the kids in the story and also the audience the book was aimed at.
For the first book in my Fantasy Angels Series, The Fall of Lilith, I did some research in the Bible, Torah, and Quran and books related to those, about angels and their names.
6- What are you working on now? What is your next project?
I’m about to begin querying my second book, The Fall of Lilith, which is the first installment in my Fantasy Angels Series (Adult/Dark Fantasy). However, I’ve been really torn about whether to spend all the time required to query the book and get representation, and then a publisher, or to just publish it on my own. If you have advice on this issue, it would be greatly appreciated.
I’m also busy writing the second installment of the series, Dracul (working title).
Look for the Blog Hop to continue soon at these sites:
Alana Munro – Alana is known as ‘The Author Who Supports’, and for good reason. She’s been a kind and supportive friend to me since I started my blog a little over a year ago. As if that weren’t enough she is a huge talent. Her book, Women Behaving Badly is a #1 bestseller on Amazon. I read the book, and not only did it entertain me, but it also taught me a few lessons. Isn’t that awesome? What more can you ask from a book? She also writes insightful, interesting and informative posts on her blog: Alana Munro – Author & Blogger Check it out!
Author Alana Munro
Chantal Bellehumeur - Chantal is an amazing woman. She’s a talented horror writer, artist, and model. Her book Just Another Common Killer is on my to-read list. Check out her website here.
Horror Author Chantal Bellehumeur
Lorraine Marie Reguly - Lorraine is one of the hardest working writers I know. She’s also a blogger that blogs about writing and other subjects, teacher, and editor. Lets just say I’ve learned a few things from her. Check out her blog Laying it Out There, check out her eBook Risky Issues, and also stay tuned for author Lorraine Reguly’s Spotlight, right here on my blog, coming soon.
Author Lorraine Reguly
As readers, do you enjoy reading about how writers work? Who’s your favorite writer, and why? What types of books do you read? What genre?
August 14, 2014
Do You Judge An Author By His Or Her Genre?
You’d be surprised how many people make assumptions about authors’ personalities based on their works’ genre. Horror writers have dark, twisted minds and are capable of committing the atrocities they write about. Erotica writers are perverts. Writers of romance tend to be like their heroines—beautiful women who are lavished with flowers, candy and romantic dinners by more lovers than they can handle (and who all resemble Ryan Reynolds, Zac Efron, Gerald Butler, or Idris Elba) And comedic writers––well, they’re all clowns who don’t take life seriously enough. Really? Come on, people!
I have lost count of how many times friends and acquaintances have been shocked when they find out that I write horror and dark fantasy. “But you don’t look like a horror writer,” they say. So what is a writer of horror and dark fantasy supposed to look like?
Is this what I’m supposed to look like?
We writers are unusual creatures, no doubt. We’re in our heads a lot. We often like to sit apart from everyone and just observe. We have outsized imaginations and we can be inspired by almost anything: a picture, a movie, someone’s smile, a word, a laugh . . . anything! But––we are not what we write. Think of us as actors. A great actor can play the role of a psycho, chef, cyborg, monster or saint and be very believable doing it, but that doesn’t mean he or she is any of those things.
Check this out!
Ramsey Campbell. Look at this guy. Doesn’t he look like he can play Santa Clause in the next remake of ‘Miracle on 34th Street’?
Yet, he has written his share of nightmare inducing horror stories like: Demons by Daylight, Alone with the Horrors, and Told by the Dead. I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about them.
Meet these lovely ladies of Horror
Mehitobel Wilson
Read all about Mehitobel here.
Kathe Koja
Read more about Kathe here.
Angela Graham––Writer of erotica. Does she look like a perve to you?
Nicholas Sparks is a Romance writer. Does he look like a romance writer?
Nicholas Sparks
The comedy writer’s job is to make people laugh. That is serious business.
Read this article from WebMD: Give Your Body A Boost––With Laughter
Dr. Seuss
Learn more about Dr. Seuss here.
Diablo Cody Academy Award Winning Comedic Screenwriter
Read more about this comedy writer here.
There are many genres of writing and even more writers, and I’m not saying that some of us don’t have a few peculiar quirks and habits. What I am saying is that we are all individuals, and the genre we write has nothing to do with who we truly are. So don’t judge a writer by his or her genre. I guess you’ll just have to get to know us.
Check out these links:
Weird Writing Habits of Famous Authors
The Odd Habits and Curious Customs of Famous Writers
8 Strange Rituals of Productive Writers
Vashti Quiroz-Vega writer of horror, suspense, thriller and dark fantasy
What are your thoughts on this? What’s your favorite genre? Have you learned anything new with this post?
