Shady Friday #23: Connor

Hello Bookworms and Book Dragons!

I'm writing! Again! So soon after my last post!

Well, my muse still isn't awake yet. However, I remembered that part of the advantage in taking a year off of blogging, is that when I get back, I've got a lot of material to work with.

Today I'm taking a scene from an unfinished draft of my third zombie book. I'm trying to stay vague, and not give spoilers. And frankly some of this might change. But for the moment this is what I've got, and even if I never use this, I'm really proud of this scene. So. Enjoy!

~

Conor stood in the strange wreckage, turning slowly as he surveyed the area he’d woken up in. It seemed empty enough, but he’d learned a long time ago not to trust his eyes. Grass cracked along the pavement of whatever building he was in, and his eyes followed the growing plants that crept towards the-
Glass ceiling. There was a glass roof over his head, and rain pounded down onto the impossibly sturdy structure.
“Nice, isn’t it? I can still watch the stars while being protected from the elements.”
Conor startled at the voice, turning to face the person standing, or more leaning, on the railings of whatever platform was behind him.
“It’s a pity no one realized the value of these buildings before.”
“What buildings?” Conor asked cautiously.
“Museums.” The strange Latino smiled at him, but it didn’t reach the figure’s eyes. “We’re in a museum. Wonderful place to stay. Everything’s already dead.”
The kid leapt over the rail, dropping down to the main floor and Conor took a few steps back, eyeing this strange kid as he stepped ever closer.
“Do you mean to hurt me?” The kid asked.
“What?” Conor was backed into the wall, staring at this strange man in front of him.
“Do you mean to hurt me?” The Latino repeated.
“No, of course not! Do you?” There was something very off about this….kid?
“Do you mean to hurt my friends?” Another step.
“Kid, I don’t even know who your friends are! I don’t want to hurt them!”
The kid stopped and smiled at him, this time letting it reach his eyes. NOW he looked harmless. “Great. Want some tea?”
Conor stared at him as the kid walked away. “That’s it? Sheesh, okay, thank you but no thank you. I have to go now. I have to… find something.”
“But aren’t you looking for Medusa?”
Conor stopped. “You know about Medusa?”
The strange man laughed, childish eyes and wicked smirk waiting for Conor as he turned. “Unfortunately for your presumptions, O’Conor, I’m incredibly well acquainted with the Medusa. And its virus.”
“It’s just Conor, actually.” He searched the kid’s face, and found no lie. “What do you know of the virus? I thought I was the only one?”
“You’re the only one they’ve approved who knows. I’ve actually met her. Quite the vicious creature. But the head… well, that remains to be seen.”
“I don’t understand, who are you? Why did you bring me here? Where is here, really?”
The kid just walked away. “You’re in the black zone Conor, but if you want a name to link to something,” The kid turned back to him, hand on the rails. “You’re in Chicago. And my name is Hades.”

~

Okay. Thoughts? Yeah, probably really vague. Still, it's something that sparked about 10K words during Nano, so I was really happy with it. 

Anyway, off to the books again! Let me know if there's anything you want for me to write about! 

P.S. I'm now putting labels on my Shady Fridays, because I was getting really lost when trying to find old material. 

Shady Friday #22

Hello Bookworms!

I've been....busy. So, several of my muses went from comatose to highly caffeinated in a short period of time, so I've been busy writing and doing things.
Today's post is from...wait for it...Mildly Normal Insanity! Yup, I'm still writing it, and it's still giving me grief about how little I write! Oh, and the name of the book has changed. It's currently going by See Us, and now I've run out of things to say. Please read the small snippet from the book, and leave a comment! This is told from the perspective of Basil, a character who I'm still developing. He's a modern adaption of Agamemnon, so if you know a better way to adapt Agamemnon into the modern era, please let me know!
~

I swore as a cacophony of screams erupted from the other side of the plaza. I saw people running as quickly as they could away from the northwest end, and I immediately ran for a lookout post. I found it in the form of the clock tower in the middle of the plaza. I made my way through the swarming masses of people until I could reach the door to the tower and slam it closed behind me.

I was silently grateful that the guards had abandoned their posts to flee with the rest of the crowd, and quickly climbed the tower to find a lookout position after bolting the door behind me. It took me a matter of seconds to climb to the top of the tower and stare down at the plaza.

I could see the cause of the riots then. There were about ten of them, and a whole line of people who were in various states of shock left behind. The creatures were practically tearing down the slowest of the mob, and I swore as I saw the wanton destruction of bleeding bodies left behind them.

“Please watch your language around a lady, sir.”

I turned around quickly, and realized that I wasn’t the only person with this idea.

“Sorry, I thought I was alone.” I thought for a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking ma'am, why didn’t you run with everyone else?”

“Just because everyone else decided to run around screaming and drawing attention to themselves like perfect idiots doesn’t mean that I have to do the same.” She stated, and I nodded.

“You from Britain?” I asked, turning back to stare out the window.

“I am.” She nodded. “And you? You're from America?” I nodded. “Very well. What’s your plan?” She asked.

“Wait for the creatures to chase everyone else, then get the hell out of here.”

“I thought you were going to watch your language.”

“That was me watching my language.” She snorted, and you’ve never heard someone insult you until you’ve heard someone from Britain snort at you. “So what’re you doin’ here in Switzerland?” 

“I was attending a fashion show.” I turned to stare at her. While she looked the part, with some kind of jacket, a modest skirt, and heels that would make me wince, something didn’t really make sense.

“Sorry if I’m reading into things that are none of my business, but I got the impression you had more common sense than that.”

She snorted at me again. “I take offense at that. Several people I know have an incredible amount of common sense and love fashion shows.”

“But not you?” I asked. She sighed.

“It was a different type of fashion show.” I took my turn to snort, but apparently I did it the wrong way. “Is something I said amusing to you?” She asked.

“Sorry, I was just wondering when Switzerland was known for its fashion shows.”

She squared her shoulders and stared out the window with me. “Like I said, it was a different type of fashion show.” And she wouldn’t say more on the matter.

“Basil.” I said, offering her my hand.

She looked at it almost distastefully, but shook it eventually. “Hera.”

“Nice to meet you Hera.”

“Nice? Amidst the screams coming from the plaza as creatures kill and mutilate everyone in it aside from us? I hardly think so.” She turned back to the window, and I did too. There were some people that you just couldn’t talk to. 

~
So, thoughts? I'm changing perspectives through every chapter, so it's really fun writing from the P.O.V. of so many characters. Still, some of the characters are tricky to write! Anyway, thank you for reading, I hope to have another post soon!
Scribe ergo quae vidiste vivere! 

Shady Friday #20

Hello Bookworms!
Okay, so I'm working on a post that isn't a Shady Friday, but I managed to complete this recently, and I decided that I needed to post it. This is in my book TreasureHood, and for me it is inspired by people who have betrayed me. In relation to the book it is inspired by a love interest who betrayed a main character, but it can be applicable to just about anyone. Okay, so maybe I listened to a few too many country breakup songs while writing this one. (Oops!) It's called I should have seen you coming. Enjoy!
~
It was there, before my eyes,
Should have seen through all your lies.
Trusting men will never pay,
But I looked the other way.
Said you'd stay through all your days,
Now I guess I've learned your ways,
I should have seen you coming.

You were there when I fell down,
Without you I thought I'd drown.
Raised me up when I was weak,
I was bold but now I'm meek.
I know better than to trust,
Empty lies will turn to rust.
I should have seen you coming.

You had me kept on a shelf,
Now I'm running from myself.
Hiding from the pain I see,
Now I live in agony.
Still I cannot help but hope,
You had stayed to help me cope.
I wish I saw you coming.
~
Okay, thoughts? I'm not really sure what type of tune to use, but that's not going to have much to do with the story. Any suggestions for what I should post about next? If not, I do have a few ideas that I'm working on. NON Shady Fridays. Anyway, I hope to be posting soon!
Scribe ergo quae vidiste vivere!

Shady Friday #19

Hello Bookworms!
Wow! I finished my first short story! OK, for those of you wondering, I looked at the premise of Shady Friday #6, and erased that paragraph, and turned the whole thing into a short story. Warning: it's rather dark. My muse woke up, and she didn't want to be cute, at all. So, mildly dark short story ahead! Anyway, please read! I hope you enjoy it! (Oh, and I really don't know anything about how diseases work, so I have no idea if what I wrote is scientifically accurate!)
~

Veloces Mortem.

The lights were on in the hallway were Kyra was hiding. It was the first thing she heard. It’s funny how the brain works when it’s panicking, isn’t it? Instead of seeing the lights, she heard them. Their phosphorescent hum was about all she had heard since the stampede of people had rushed out of the building 15 minutes ago. She had hidden, instead of running with them. She wasn’t a fast runner, and knew better than to get caught up in a stampede where she might get crushed underfoot. She had instead elected to hide, and wait until everyone had left. She would have left at that point herself, except she had to find Carol. She walked carefully through the hallway, trying not to make any sound that might disturb whatever had scared all those people.

“It would be a moose again, wouldn’t it?” She muttered under her breath. “Last time a moose got loose in the hospital they wanted to declare a national emergency.” She kept walking, making her way to the lounge outside of the room where they kept the coma patients. “And of course, it’s during a crisis I would forget the name of where she works.” She came to the doorway of the lounge, and stopped. The lights in the ceiling of the lounge weren’t on, the lounge had windows and the sun was up. Still, it wasn’t the lights that had made her stop. It was the scared man standing there, with a gun to Carol’s head. He noticed Kyra standing in the doorway, and grabbed Carol’s arm, pulling her closer to him, still with the gun to her head.

“Who are you?” He asked, obviously panicking. Kyra tried to analyze him from what little she knew about psychology, but she couldn’t come up with much. She had mostly been studying what choices people made with their personal appearance, and that wasn’t helpful. He had Brown hair, Brown eyes, a scowl, and was wearing a hospital gown. Of course, he was a coma patient. She recognized him. He was their resident John Doe. Apparently he had woken up and stolen a gun from an individual in their understaffed military guard. Unfortunately, his stance told her that he knew exactly how to use it.

“I’m Kyra Wall, I’m 15 and a freshman in high school. And you know that girl you’re holding at gun point? She’s Carol Wall, she’s 13, and about to go out to her first dance. She’s really nervous about dancing, she’s not very good on her feet and wants to make a good impression on the friend who invited her to the dance. She’s my little sister. We don’t want to hurt you, so why don’t you explain this to us?”

He laughed, the fear evident in his voice. “Explain? Oh I get it, that’s one of your techniques. To get me to talk. That won’t happen, I know how to keep secrets. I won’t talk! You can’t make me!” His voice was nearly cracking. His grip on the gun tightened, and a tear fell from Carol’s eye. It took all of Kyra’s composure not to run forward and punch the brown-haired jerk in the face for making her sister cry, but she composed herself, taking a deep breath and forcing her shoulders back into a neutral posture. She continued talking in a calming voice, the one she had used with the nursery children who wouldn’t stop crying.

“Alright, you’ve had training? Well I can’t help but notice you seem scared.” Kyra inquired.

 He grit his teeth at her. “That’s because I’m dying thanks to your sister!” he spat out.

“It was an accident!” Carol cried. His hold tightened and she bit her lip, trying not to talk again. Kyra took a small step forward.

“Is it alright if I hear this? I don’t know what happened. Please, I want to hear her side.” He thought about it for a minute, then nodded.

“I didn’t know it was the disease! Honestly!” She sobbed out, tears streaming down her face. “I thought it was a sedative! I would have checked, but he was acting wild and I didn’t know what to do! I swear, I would never put someone in danger like that on purpose! You know me, I-“

“That’s enough, you’ve told your side,” he was calming down a little, but Kyra was still on edge around him. “I don’t care if I die, I won’t reveal information about my country.”

“No one’s asking you to. I just want my sister back. Can I ask her a few questions?” He tensed, clearly against the idea, but again he nodded. His tight on Carol was tight though, not willing to risk her escaping.

“Carol? What was the disease?” Carol was nearly in hysterics. “Carol, take a few breaths. In, hold, out, repeat. Now tell me, what was the disease?”

“V-veloces mortem. It’s an experimental disease they were working on.”

Kyra thought for a moment, then shook her head slowly.  “I don’t remember you talking about that at home. Is there a cure?”

Carol nodded. “It’s outside, the guards have it. They took it with them.”

 A thought struck Kyra, and suddenly there was something else to worry about. 

“Carol, how was this disease transmitted?”

Carol thought for a moment. “Um…It was airborne, I think.” Her breath sped up. “Kyra, are we safe? Will we get sick too?” 

The man seemed to be in a state of shock. “Oh no. What have I done?” He breathed out. It seemed like he was talking to himself, so Kyra focused on her sister.  

“We’ll be fine, okay? We won’t get sick.”  The man shook his head, and lowered his weapon, letting Carol go.

“No, you won’t get sick, you’re sick already. What have I done?” It took all of Kyra’s self control not to rush to her sister, but she pulled herself back reminding herself that the man was still armed and sudden moves were a bad idea. Still, she walked as quickly as she could to her sister and pulled her into a tight hug. She had never noticed until then how much taller than her Carol was becoming, or how her hair smelled of lavender. Or maybe it was the disease, affecting her senses.

“Carol?” She asked calmly, though tears were forming in her voice. “What are the symptoms?”  

“I…..I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know!” Carol was growing angry, but it seemed to be with herself. “I wasn’t in charge of this! I’m an assistant in the coma ward, for crying out loud! I don’t get involved in the military side of things! I’m just supposed to be doing this for service club! All I know is what it’s called, that it’s airborne, and it takes an hour. Okay?” She fell to her knees, sobbing. “This is all my fault…” She whimpered.

Kyra nodded again. “Okay, it takes an hour to kill people? How long since we were infected?”

“43 Minutes.” The man spoke up from the corner. He was still holding the gun, but it was held loosely in his hand. They would all die soon anyway, there was no point in shooting anyone now.

“Thank you. 43 minutes? That gives us 17 minutes left. If we head out those doors, we can get to the cure, right?” He looked down. He was calm now, as if somehow resigned to his fate. 

“You have 17. We have less. You were probably infected when the stampede of people came running through. That was 43 minutes ago. I was injected 7 minutes before that, and she was infected within moments of it. We have less than 10 minutes left. If you want to make a run for the cure, go ahead. It should take you three minutes to get out of the building, but if you’re fast you can make it in two. That would give you about 30 seconds to get the cure in you before you’re too far gone.”

 She stood, shocked. “What?” She managed to gasp out.

“And with that time lapse, you’ve passed the opportunity.” Kyra shook her head, not wanting to believe it, so he elaborated. “Diseases have a point of no return, understand? With a disease with such a short incubation period, the point of no return is about 15 minutes before death. Your sister and I are past that point, so a cure wouldn’t help us. You’re about one minute away from that mark yourself, and you can’t get to the cure in that time frame. We’re too far inside the building.”

“H-how…” She stammered.

“How do I know? “ He sighed. “I was in the military. Fighting your country, actually, but politics doesn’t really matter right now. I was in a special branch, dedicated to fighting biological warfare.”

Kyra nodded. “You were an army doctor.”

He nodded, as if just accepting it himself. “To put it simply.” She was silent for a moment, Carol’s hysterics having calmed down.

“What is your name?” she asked. He smiled at her.

“Colin. Colin Masson. Don’t you have any family you want to say goodbye to? I’m sure there’s a phone in the nurse’s office you could use.”

She shook her head, then decided to explain. “Actually, I don’t let people know this, but we’re orphans. Our parents died a few years back.”

“Don’t people notice? What if you get a report card? How do you live without parents?”

“I stay under the radar. I don’t get excellent grades, but I never get awful ones either. And as for funding, our parents left us an inheritance. Not much, but enough to live on.” She glanced at Carol, who had fallen asleep due to her hysterics. “At least she’ll be asleep for it.” She sat down with her back against the wall, silent for a few minutes. “How much longer do we have?”

“I’ve got about 4 minutes. You’ve still got 11.” She sighed, leaning her head against the wall.

“What about you? Any family or friends?” He shook his head. “My family’s dead, and my friends were all soldiers in the war. Those who survived have probably assumed me dead. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been gone for?” She shook her head.

“All I know is that you were in a coma when we came here, and that was a few years back.” She thought for a moment. “What war did you fight in?”

“The American-Canadian war,” He replied.

 She stood up. “But that wasn’t a war, it was two battles! It was decided when a Cornel, Cornel Mason-“ She stopped short. “You. It stopped when you won us the battle.” He stood straight up.

“I won you the battle? We’re on the same side?” She nodded.

“You were a war hero. No one knew what happened to you after the battle. All this time, you were here: a tiny hospital in the middle of nowhere.” He smiled at her, shaking his head.

“All this time, I was fighting a war that I’d already won. I really am an idiot….” He collapsed to the ground. She was at his side in a moment.

“Are you ok?” She asked. He snorted.

“I’ve got 45 seconds left.” She took a shaky breath.

“How do you feel?” She asked, tears finally staining her face.

“Weak, but other than that I’m fine. I’m joining my comrades. I’m going home.” She smiled at him, and his eyes lost their focus. She caught her breath. She hadn’t seen someone die since her parents had passed away three years back. She closed his eyes, and moved back over to her sister. She didn’t want to check if she was dead yet or not, She had to be, but she could pretend otherwise. She sighed, laying down next to her sister. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end.

Less than half an hour later a tactical team made its way into the hospital, checking to see if anyone was alive. They had cleared the surrounding area, and were kitted out in biohazard suits. They made their way to the main lobby, and looked around. There were three bodies lying on the ground. The men looked at each other. The assignment had only mentioned two.

“Anyone alive?” the leader called. A few moments later a voice called over to him

“It looks like patient zero made it, but not the other two.” There was silence, then the leader called again:

“Arrange for funerals for the other two. But bring patient zero outside. Get the ambulance.”

Once outside, they checked for infection, then the leader took off his helmet.

“As suspected, patient zero shows no sign of infection. We’re safe.” The rest of the team took off their helmets, and proceeded to take off the rest of their biohazard suits. One of the younger soldiers, the one who Colin had taken the gun from, came up to the leader.

“Sir, what should we do with the building once the bodies are removed? Is it safe? Or should we burn the whole thing down?” The leader shook his head.

“It’s not safe, but burning it down would just make this thing spread. No. We need to quarantine the building, and check back every few years to see if it’s safe yet.” He glanced over at the ambulance. “It looks like patient zero is coming around. You can let her friends through, she’s safe.” The soldier was about to leave, when the leader spoke again. “Oh, and don’t mention how she survived. It’s probably best that they don’t know that she’s immune because we were developing the virus from her to begin with.” The soldier nodded, then ran off to let the people through.

“Carol, Carol!” called Kyra’s friend Earl as he ran up. She looked around confused.

“Earl, I don’t understand, what happened?”

“I don’t know. Are you ok?” She nodded shakily.

“I’m fine but…Kyra, she’s…..” She broke down in tears, and Earl hugged her tightly.

“I’m so sorry for you.” He muttered, wondering how any of this could have happened. 

~ 

OK, that was rather long. What did you think? Do you want me to write another short story? Was this one too dark? Oh, and thank you to my friend who helped me edit this! That really meant a lot! Anyway, I'll try to keep up with blogging! 

Scribe ergo quae vidisti vivere!

Shady Friday #18

Hello Bookworms!
Well, I'm having difficulty getting the next post written, but I managed to get some writing done on this! This is from the first book I ever wrote. Well, the plot at any rate. I was really young when I started writing the book, so the original was terrible, however the basic story idea was still interesting, so recently I decided to rewrite it. This is the start to the first chapter, and frankly it's all I have at the moment, other than a prologue. Still, I hope you enjoy it! I am currently referring to the story as 'The Winding Tower Arc"

~

Six in the morning is early. If anyone says differently, their sanity should be called into question. Danielle and Fabian Hunter didn’t even want to get out of the sleeping bags that morning, let alone wrap them up and place them with the rest of their belongings in the back of a moving truck headed for Roanoke Island, North Carolina. Danielle staggered to the front seat of the van.
“Please tell me we have chocolate.” She groaned, climbing into the passenger seat. Her father, smiled at her.
“Oh, would you look at that? It’s the orange zombie! If you want caffeine, I don’t understand why you won’t drink coffee.” She slowly reached over and buckled her seat belt in.
“If you want me to drink coffee, then find me some that doesn’t make me gag.” Her younger brother Fabian climbed into the back seat and quickly buckled his seat belt in then tapped some complicated rhythm on his knees.
“Hey, are we ready to go?” He asked, grinning cheerfully. Danielle glared pointedly at him.
“How are you alive? It’s too early!” He shrugged.
“Don’t know, I’m just excited! So? Are we going?” Mr. Hunter nodded, turned on the car, and started driving.
“So, what should we do? Should we sing songs? Talk about the new house? We’re living right on the beach you know, that was hard to do! Abandoned lighthouses are hard to get, did you know Danielle? Danielle?” Fabian tapped his father on his shoulder.
“Shh dad, she’s asleep!” Mr. Hunter glanced over for a moment. Sure enough, Danielle had drifted off. She remained asleep for over three hours. The sun was already high in the sky by the time she woke up.
“Oh, now you’re awake?” asked Fabian. “You slept through the rest stop. Twice. We had breakfast, but don’t worry, there’s plenty left.” Danielle, more commonly referred to as Danny, sat up.
“Really? What was for breakfast?” She yawned, and stretched.
“Granola bars and fruit mostly. We’ll actually stop for lunch, but we wanted to keep going and we have plenty of snacks.” Explained her father.

~

Okay, that's all I have written at the moment, please let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Demidium facti que coepit habet!

Shady Friday #17

Hello Bookworms!
Two blog posts in 1 week? Wow, I must actually be catching up with the blogging thing! So, yes. Today, I am posting another Shady Friday. What is this, the first one since February? Ok, I know, I need to keep up with my blog! :)  Anyway, I decided that I should share the prologue of the book I am calling TreasureHood, and please leave comments on how you think it turned out!
~
 There are many emotions in the known world that act as catalysts for virtues, and also vulnerabilities in the human mind. The grief, rage, sorrow and loss felt by the parting of a loved one act as one of the strongest of these catalysts.  Sometimes it creates self-motivation, a sense of determination to rise up and live to the fullest; but sometimes it instills a sense of rebellion and denial which morphs into a desire to distance oneself from anything and everything that person stood for. This was the case of our main character, one Miss Hawk, or Jim. Instead of accepting her mother’s loss and trying to move on, Jim’s grief told her that everything her mother had stood for meant nothing. This resulted in a complete and total rebellion, which lead her to her father’s library in search of solitude. This was the beginning of the tale which changed her life; I’ll leave you to decide which was better.

For the precise details on the tale, we shall be exploring into the diary of our main character. Do not worry, I have her permission to share these details. She has also been guaranteed a version of this report after it is published to ensure that no more than what has been agreed upon is released. Plus, for those of you who are nervous about her not taking the opportunity to tell us if she is bothered, but simply dealing with it, don’t fret over it. She won’t waste a moment in telling me off if I get a fraction of this off. Enjoy.

From the remarkable Diary of Miss Hawk, (A very fine, respectable young lady who would never tell anyone off, has never been emotionally incapable, and is just the handiest person for this, incompetent loudmouth who can’t keep out of peoples business, to write about.)

~

So, what did you think? I'm probably not going to include the person whose perspective this is being written by in the rest of the book, as I have no idea which character is the one speaking. Still, I wrote this near the conception of the book, and everything else just came together. Please let me know if you want me to post more of it! Until then, I actually know what I'm posting about next! Yay!

Dimidium facti que coepit habet! 

Shady Friday #16

Hello Bookworms!
Ok, so I'm still working on my schedule, finding time to blog and all that. So, I noticed that I haven't really posted that much about my book "Shadow of a Leader", or Soal, as I call it. Therefore, today I will be posting a riddle from it. This riddle is what starts the events of Soal, so it's not the kind to solve immediately. I hope you enjoy it!
~
Follow the star of the north ten days,
to seek out the answer, the cure,
Seeking my refuge in wavering ways,
Who'll find the answer? The pure.
From this dark mountain I'll seek my home,
then flee to the fortitude high,
I can return there from where I roam,
There where the answer shall die.
I sought for my rest then was searched for,
Through dark forests many have come.
I seek out the city of Luntror,
To darkness I'll never succumb.
I travel to seek out the answer for all,
Those seeking me will find,
That dark men when finding me will fall,
While only the pure will keep mind.
~
So, I know it's not much, but it is the catalyst for the story. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!
Habent sua fata libelli 

Shady Friday #15

Hello Bookworms!
Alright, so it's been a while since the last Shady Friday. Still,  I've been pretty busy. So, Shady Friday time, what have I been working on? Power point! But don't worry, I don't know how to include power point in my blog. So, right now I'm running out of short ideas and working on longer books, which are harder to include. So, for the next few Shady Fridays I will be working on sharing the book idea I had about a month ago.
This idea is rather simple, and yet fascinatingly complicated. The basic idea is a zombie apocalypse book in second person. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's where instead of saying "He raced" Or "I raced", it says "You raced". Only, I'm also doing it present tense, so it's going to be "You race". Here's a small preview.
~

You really wish your life had turned out differently. There’s something wrong with you, you know. Yeah, you know it alright. You’re the type of crazy that knows it. Insane. That’s the perfect word to describe you. A crazy lunatic that no one believes; no one appreciates. Well, they will soon enough, those that are left. You hear the man in the box, He tells you it’s getting worse, the plague is spreading. You smile a little. Ah yes, this you knew.

 ~

So, basically it's about this one girl who gets a small hint that the zombie apocalypse is going to happen, but ends up in an insane asylum until two weeks before it strikes. The other thing to keep in mind is that she actually is a bit insane, so I'm not sure if it's actually happening, or she just thinks it's happening due to post traumatic stress disorder, as she was previously employed by the military, and wounded in action. 

Thank you so much for reading, PLEASE let me know your thoughts on the book! Thanks! 

Habent sua fata libelli. 

P.S. Yes, it may have been slightly inspired by Warm Bodies, but the main idea is mine

Shady Friday #14

Hello Bookworms!
Thank you so much, I just reached 1,000 views on my blog! Ironic, two amazing things happen around the 14th Shady Friday, and my favorite number is 14. Anyway, I wrote this a while back, but I think it is my second best poem ever. Plus, it's the prologue to the second book in my trilogy. Enjoy!
~

The stars guide the nations that fall into ruin,

The stars guide the ships that sail to their deaths,

The stars guide the travelers that never are found;

How treacherous the stars that we trust with our lives!

Yet when the worlds fall, and our people all die,

It’s back to these treacherous stars that we flee.

Those stars by their millions have stolen our hearts,

Yet always we gaze up to them in our plight.

What would we do if the stars disappeared?

If our guides would just vanish, ne’re to be seen?

As the stars fall away the kingdoms cry out,

As light fades from life, the oceans decay.

Back then, when this glorious light filled the sky,

Back, when the people knew not what would come,

The light from our lives began its descent,

As the treachery of mortals invaded the sky.

~Treachery’s end game, by Ciella Woodsbridge, chief squire of the forgotten lands.

~

OK! I wrote that one morning on a long car trip, but for some reason it stuck. Oh, and yes, it is written in free verse. Thank you again, PLEASE comment, I would love to know what you all think! Oh, and please follow! Habent sua fata libelli!

Shady Friday #13

Hello bookworms!
Interesting story behind thirteen. Apparently, (and I heard this from my sister, so don't quote me) back in the days when one of the monk's job was to maintain the calendar, the monks would schedule monthly feasts around the twelve moons of the year. Unfortunately, there are thirteen moons, so it caused a lot of headaches. (These monks weren't mathematicians.) Therefore, thirteen was named as unlucky, while in the end it was just another challenge to be solved.  Anyway, I will be working more on the poems as it ends the month, however I do have quite a few already. Enjoy!
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15 is the Age
Some girls say that sixteen's it.
The age of romance, rebellion, fun.
The age you run to, dream of, remember,
The perfect age, what else is there?

I'm here to say, fifteen is great!
The age of confusion, chaos, dreams.
Keep running around, you'll miss out on life;
Parents, sisters, brothers, forgotten.

Fifteen is the age of planning your future,
Saying, "I'll do this!' knowing it all.
It's your last real chance, to be just a kid!
It's the first time you get to be an adult.

Fifteen is when your worst mistakes start,
When mom's always mad, and dad's upset too.
It's when you notice the flaws in our world,
When life all seems hopeless, and everything's old.

Fifteen is a challenge, when nothing makes sence,
When life is a circus, dragging you with.
When everything's over, there's a whole new beggining,
And nothing will ever quite be the same.

So get up, get going! Get on with your life!
Don't forget the past, but don't forget the future!
Never lose sight of what God has done,
Keep moving, keep growing. There's a point to find.


The Tale of the Stars
A dusty road, a long lost dream.
Fantasies haven't begun to take flight,
Abandoned paths that never were traveled,
Thus begins the tale of the night.

Soaring high beyond  our eyes,
Dancing, laughing in their glow,
Gems in the night restless seek
The secrets of mortals here below.

Amidst their hoards of crimson, scarlet,
They dance to each other in rings of gold.
History written in their eyes,
They remember what none have told.

The secrets they hide are beyond compare,
Their glory is beyond us simple kind;
As tales are spun of their glorius might,
Their wonders leave us far behind.

These wonders astound as we forget ourselves,
Yet back to our planet we must now return;
The everyday struggles of everyday life,
Return to those who in anger do spurn.

Ah, that dear country, up hid in the sky;
Where sleep has no meaning, and dark reflects light.
Yet stuck I remain on this simple land,
As stars stay beyond reach, just barely in sight.


The forest's tearful gem (Riddle, please don't solve)
A rift runs between culture and art,
The past and the future, they are worlds apart.
Roaming the wilds, the calm serine woods,
I long to leave this culture, for good.

Past the plain, not past the bridge,
Which spans my heart and spans the ridge.
Left not right, and right not left,
Of rest my weary limbs bereft.

So seek the steps of wood and dirt,
The vast divide between heart and hurt.
And yet don't pass the amber stream,
Nor travel on the bridge of dreams.

Do not stop on the valley of moss,
Yet travel past the split hill tops.
Stopping on the woodland's hem
Lies the forest's tearful gem.

A family's death, ne're remembered;
The lines between remorse and insolence blurred.
A child, carven out of stone,
A child, weeping, died alone.


Cafe on the corner
There's a cafe on the corner,
Its windows trim and neat,
There's a cafe on the corner,
On iron lace I take my seat.

In that cafe on the corner,
The waiters know what you want best,
In that cafe on the corner,
not a sound disturbs  your rest.

In that cafe on the corner,
I drink my coffee, topped with foam,
In that cafe on the corner,
I don't know why, I can't go home.

In that cafe on the corner,
The fluttering rags of a curtain shows.
In that cafe on the corner,
The breath of wind never blows.

From in that cafe on that cafe on that corner,
They've never had a patron leave.
For in that cafe on the corner,
We're the ghosts of Christmas eve.


End of a dream (For Esther)
What do you do when all your dreams die?
When everyday pleasures become just a wish?
When everyday life is no longer worth living?
When the simplest goal is a ginormous feat?

What should you do when the world turns its back?
When all that you trusted betrays you in turn?
How should you cope when the pain fills your life?
When agony tears you our of sleep's peace?

What should you do? Depend on me!
Let me work through this struggle with you.
Turn to me and I'll do all in my power,
Know when you hurt, I'm torn up inside.

Yet, know through this struggle that darkens your days,
It will make you stronger, it will make you fight.
Never forget that I'm there to catch you,
You're not alone, so please, reach out!


Midnight Fantasies (Inspired by Lindsey Stirling's Beyond the Veil)
A step, a leap into the night
A fairy waiting to take flight
Moonlight streaming on the ground,
Where tales of mystery abound.

Pale revery complete,
A simple stone the perfect seat
Air as fresh as the dew of morn',
This perfect land where dreams are born.

Sky as blue as the ocean's depths,
Grass as soft as a maiden's steps.
Countless stars to light the way,
Who would ever choose the day?

Trees are anxious for dawn's light,
Yet I need not the sun for sight.
My eyes gaze up till I fall down,
Back the the gem without a crown.


Summer Fun! (Inspired by Imagine Dragon's On Top of the World)
 Summer's the time for fun and games,
To see old friends, make new ones too.
The time to dream impossible feats,
And plan the craziest parties and games.

Life is full of crazy adventures,
The laughs, the jumps, the tears, the falls.
When all you knew turns upside down,
Then keep your spirit, and keep on turning.

Summer's full of mistakes and errors,
Heart breaks and scrapes added in.
So pick yourself up, dust off;
and join the fight with twice the spirit.

Though tragedy strikes hardest when your having fun,
and the sand runs out when your least prepared;
a friend is there to pick you up again,
And help you live your life to the max.


Whispers in the past
 Come with me, my friend;
Let us tarry here no longer,
Let us flee these cursed walls,
For restless shapes seek my demise.

Can you hear them, plotting now?
Can you hear their shrieking cackles?
Can you see, the door is bared-
Can you see, they've locked us in.

The floor is falling, so are we!
Through the door of our demise.
Our past is clinging, dragging us down,
Down the hole, and down the pit.

Can you see? They're watching.
The eyes of those who came before,
are watching us become like them.
We are staring at our death.

But no, they are not done with us,
The door is opened, there is hope!
But hope for what, a living death?
Within the maze of snarled roots.

Yet run we must or soon we die,
These creatures shall not have their way.
I see a chance, a last way out!
The marble steps, and then the door!

Alas, on running up the steps,
to freedom, and to safety,
I trip upon a vine I cut,
And land upon my dagger's blade.

So warning heed I pray thee friend,
Though treasure great you find,
Do not enter this my house,
Or death will haunt you still.
~
Ok! Thank you so much for reading all of that! I don't think I will get all fifty poems done by the end of the month, but I'll do my best. Some of the poems were written for my book, and some were just to provide a striking comparison between the normal everyday life and the world of literature. Sorry for not posting for a while, I hope to get back in the routine! Habent sua fata libelli!

Shady Friday #12

Hello Bookworms!
Happy Fourth of July! So, today I only have one poem for you, and it's about America. I just wrote it today, and I haven't worked that hard on making the rhythms match, just rhyming the words. Anyway, have a great holiday!
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Remember America
This country began in the long, long ago,
Thirteen colonies, how far they would grow.
But each to his own, and each to his season,
Now we amble around, without rhyme or reason.

America's strong, its roots now stand firm,
But a parasite's grown, and its spread like a germ.
Now the leech of self entitlement grows,
As the people forget their American heroes.

The people who gave their lives for our freedom,
Weren't fighting to protect some fairy tale kingdom.
They were fighting for us, we should show our respect!
Instead of stuffing our faces every chance that we get.

They stood for our liberty, our freedom, our rights,
For what we hold dear, they gave up their lives.
Now we celebrate with family and friends,
but forget what it stands for, as the festival ends.

So remember our founders, this fourth of July,
As the fireworks blaze up into the sky.
Remember the price that was paid by our men,
Remember it was worth it, what they did way back then.
~
I hope this inspires you, (And hopefully doesn't offend anyone!) I wanted to dedicate something to the men who have died for the country we celebrate today. Habent sua fata libelli!

Shady Friday #11

Hello Bookworms!
So, I've actually come across writer's block again! (I need to stop doing that!) Today I decided to continue the story I began in Shady Friday #5. However, I have also decided that this story is a several person first person adventure, so there will be several different stories all being told at once. I hope you enjoy this one!
~

Madness is necessary; a simply necessary part of society. Every genius is some part mad. Only the truly brilliant ones embrace that madness though. Without madness, humanity would have nowhere to look when it needed reminders of the fact, that the entirety of humanity is blind. Crazy, I know. But then, I wouldn’t be called mad if it wasn’t!

My name is William Kelvin Maxwell, and I’m one of the mad scientists that every average clinical mind dreads to meet. My insanity ranges from ‘I think that I can speak to all animals’ to ‘the octopus stole the banana from the shark, I have to go reclaim this ancient relic!’ Both of which I have, unfortunately, uttered within the past two hours. The year is 1947, and I am currently on the run from the loony bin; although I don’t know of a man alive who would live on the floor of the ocean. Sorry, not what I meant to say, but then my mind does random things. I just jumped back to the time an hour ago when I tried to save the banana from the octopus. It turns out I was in a market where a fish stand had been set up next to a fresh produce stand. Imagine my pride when I had finally vanquished the mighty jellyfish! Or was it a turtle?? Ah well, that’s my introduction. Live life to the full, and don’t forget to by insane, my brain! 

~ 

Alright, so as you can tell, we, the readers, all represent ideas jumping from one person to the next as the characters give slight updates in their minds. (Confusing). So, basically it's just like any other first person, only it's written in the moment. Most of the people are crazy anyway, so they have invented people inside their heads that they are talking to, and basically we as the readers get to listen in on the conversation. Or in other words, it's like a diary of thoughts. Anyway, I hope that you like the story! Habent sua fata libelli!