September 2009
2 posts
Character Profile: Jaspin Demothenese
Name: Jaspin Aluna Corelin Demothenese Age: 344 years old Race: Vampire Height: 5’ 6” Weight: 130 lbs. Hair: Worn short, buzzed in the back and tappering down longer in the front, she wears it parted down the middle. Her hair color is platinum blonde. Eyes: Her eyes are a startling ice blue, her eyelashes long, and her eye shape a bit tappered at the corners. She always wears a white...
The next few posts you are going to be seeing from me are some character profiles for several of my characters that I have floating around in my head. They all come from the same Universe, one in which Vampires are real, and humans know of their existance, and there is a constant war going on between four distinctive groups. I’ve not written anything for this story yet, and most of it is...
August 2009
2 posts
The Agency (part 3)
These people, who all had special powers, they had special names too. A Fiery was someone who had power over fire and heat. An Aqua was someone who could make water move. A Seer was someone who could catch glimpses of the past, future, or present. A Healer, obviously, could use Aythir to heal people. A Sandman was someone who could control sand and dirt. A Windy was someone who could create winds....
Echo
(I just remembered I owe you a poem, Echo. Here it is.)
Echo was a curious cat, she lived in her owner’s flat. She ate well, but she wasn’t fat, She was a pirate, as a matter of fact.
Echo sailed the seven seas, with the aid of pirate fleas. They hopped a ride on a pekingese, and ate trout and baby snap peas.
Echo’s journey had just begun, they sailed into the setting sun....
July 2009
25 posts
The Agency (part 2)
(This is only a partial update. If you’d like to read more, or read from the beginning, please go to my Fictionpress.com page for this story: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2700117/1/The_Agency)
This new energy, this special energy, people weren’t sure what it was. Science didn’t know. Many religions said it was the proof of God’s existance. A few religions even sprung up...
I just found out my poem, Yockles and Fliung, has 3 reviews on it on Fictionpress.com. All three reviews are positive. This made me happy.
Puff Puff Pass
Puff Puff Pass I feel that sweet smoke fill my lungs and soon it comes that sweet numbness in my face Puff Puff Pass and as we sit here we talk of things and dreams that ring so right and free Puff Puff Pass our day will not be wasted like we are so far responsibilities we have Puff Puff Pass we’ll get things done like always I know as I blow that smoke...
Freewriting #3
(I’ve been reading Rant by Chuck Palahniuk lately. I’m kind of inspired to write a story in a similar manner. We’ll see how this goes.)
Darrel Carens (Close friend of Trudy Galios): Everyone always asks me if I knew Trudy Galios. Yes, I did know her. She was a dear and close friend of mine. No one expected her to do what she done. Nope, sure didn’t. Of course, there is all...
The Agency
“They eat guinea pigs in Peru and Bolivia.” Jimmy said as we drove downtown. “In fact, guinea pigs were first domesticated there as a food source around 2000 B.C.”
“You’re kidding.” I say, shaking my head.
“Nope. 65 million guinea pigs a year are eaten by Peruvians and Bolivians.” He said, turning down a side street. ”In America,...
Unfortunately, due to some health issues I had over the weekend and into Monday, I was unable to get the poems together for my A Poem An Hour challenge.
I still intend to do this, but with less strict rules. I’m just going to write a poem an hour one of these days soon, doesn’t matter what kind, it just has to be at least 8 lines long.
So I owe my friend lunch at Panera Bread for not...
Druster's Drelow
Druster played the drelow, It shinied like a crendo. He livlied it a xinklow In it’s dinty mesko.
Druster flude the ferow, Like any wexly greso. He pippled down the zano, And quently he did ghello.
Brandel's Quwong
Brandel loved his quwong, He snowered it with pelrong, And hendered it in wintlong, And jightied it for voo-ong.
Alas, it died in fesong. Brandel trit his artong, He marmmered to his yinnong How he missed his quwong!
Drogged Hinnigh
Back ye plenker faligh! Or jelk my frilly peltigh! Lest ye trelk your gelghigh, Ye will klonk your neerigh.
Into steinkty frondligh, I’ll cast ye with a quiligh! Leave this drogged hinnigh, And let me have my jortigh.
Troddle And Her Scroolesh
Basking in the ganglesh,
Troddle pilked the dinlesh.
She mukiled through the fulgresh
While fastering on grodgesh.
Behold, her eyes were roobesh!
She held franlinks with such unesh,
Whilst scronking tubber floodesh,
And yonking decadent scroolesh.
Tander Sloothing
Kradled was the rinling In its dinly druning. Farther snol the ling, Tander for the cloing.
And harlik was the gilfing Sloothing down the telring, Bandered in its jilking As it flothed the flurning.
Lanloo and the Nalfig
“Larper down the stilig!” Lanloo crended to the Nalfig, And he flented every dellpig He could sanfour in the brig.
His upling was a neufig, And his perling was a bluenig That had every little studig In his brimey, scrinty flulig.
The Sea of Heloskant
Down the shunder slute they went, Drandlin and Malificant, Yearly they did flount the dant In the sea of Helsokant.
But lo, Drandlin forgot the flant! And drudgey old Malificant Knew his fellory was blant, And flund himself into the stant.
Alas, the poems will have to be delayed until Monday, but I have them all written and ready to go. I have the first 7 ready to post today.
A family issue has come up, and I have just enough time to post those first seven. The other 17 are written in my notebook, and you’ll be seeing those on either Monday or Tuesday.
I will be uploading the poems for my “A Poem An Hour” challenge tomorrow. They will begin posting at 12:00pm Mountain Time tomorrow, and one will come every hour for 24 hours.
A Poem An Hour
So, I’ve been challenged by a friend to write a poem an hour one day.
I’m going to try writing them all today, and I’ll queue them for tomorrow.
Obviously, I’m not going to get up every hour at night to write a poem, so eight poems will have to be written all at once before bed. This should be fun.
The rules set up by my friend are:
The poems have to be 8 lines each. No...
Yockles and Fliung
Trud through the glime To vision cockle time There’s fearror here And drudge hears the heer.
Yockle tell the stail To slip off the prail And in the flockdown They don the rockgown.
“Slith the slink!” Great Yockles brinked And in his teary He did the fleary
Fliung the Rendy, Blighty and blendy, Did Yockles meet To smuck the sleat.
Fliung to Yockles They shared in fockles Too...
Time Standing Still (part 3)
(If you would like to read this story from the beginning, please visit the fictionpress.com link: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2694479/1/Time_Standing_Still)
A lot changes in three years. For example, did you know that in three years, an internet based company can go bankrupt because of a corrupt CEO who embezzles a considerable amount of millions of dollars, then gets caught and jailed? And did...
Dear Echo
echothecat:
thepenthatbleeds:
Thanks for following me! So, which would you prefer, a short short story or a poem?
Ooooo! let me think… poem…no wait story ….. umm no no wait poem… ok story…
I’ll take a poem thank you thepenthatbleeds…
:)
lol, okay! Expect to see it by early next week, if not tomorrow :)
Dear Echo
Thanks for following me! So, which would you prefer, a short short story or a poem?
Time Standing Still (part 2)
(A continuation of Freewriting #2: http://thepenthatbleeds.tumblr.com/post/137321427 Here’s the link to the second chapter on fictionpress.com: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2694479/1/Time_Standing_Still)
Conciousness started to return to me. Slowly, almost carefully my brain turned back on, like a computer booting up after a power surge. My eyes opened and adjusted. I was laying on my...
Time Standing Still →
Link to my fictionpress.com page for Freewriting #2.
Freewriting #2
It’s amazing how time goes so slowly as you sit and stare at the second hand on the clock. Each little movement, each soft and barely audible tickticktick seem to just crawl, almost to a halt.
That’s why, when the second hand did stop, and the tickticktick was silenced, I didn’t notice it. I didn’t notice it until my eyes were half closed as I sat there with my elbow on my...
A note to my followers:
Thank you so much for following me. I hope I can entertain, enthrall, and enlighten with my crazy ramblings. Please know that if I don’t follow you in return, it isn’t because I don’t like you, but because this is not my life/journal/diary blog. This is my writing blog, and except for the occasional note like this one, it will consist of my prose and poetry.
My personal...
Charlie's Story →
The fictionpress.com link to the first freewriting I did.
I haven’t decided if I want the story to be cyberpunk or steampunk. It is tempting to mix the two, but somehow I don’t think I’d be able to do it quite so well.
I’m leaning towards steampunk, but we’ll see where it goes.
June 2009
5 posts
Freewriting #1
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The incessent sound of the alarm clock broke into Charlie’s dreamscape. He grumbled and smacked the snooze button before quickly rolling over in bed, the blankets pulled high over his head. Memories from the night before started to surface in his mind. He groaned, not wanting to think about it, not wanting to remember.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The alarm went off...
Freewritings and Notebook Freewritings.
One of the processes of my writing is I will just sit down with no idea for a story in my head and write. Often times whatever song I am listening to influences my writing. When I’m not listening to music, a picture or a fleeing thought or a quote may be what triggers my writing. I call these Freewritings. Often nothing comes from them, but sometimes a story is hiding in there somewhere and...
Hello there, anxiety and depression.
Make friends in my brain. Tell me I’m inadiquate again. Remind me why I’m suicidal, wait a minute, don’t touch that dial. Give me thoughts of dispair and don’t forget to show your flare! Living ain’t so tough you know; Let these angsty feelings grow and bottle up inside of me until they burst outside of me.
I Am The Pen That Bleeds
I am the pen that bleeds; words flow from my tip onto paper the thoughts of the writer flowing through so that other may one day see the intracacies of the mind as my master sees them in all their unassuming glory.
I am the pen that bleeds when protagonists and antagonists scream at the writer to tell their stories they cannot be silenced and my...
My Fictionpress.com account →