Writing Update 1/20/17


Writing is hard. It’s even harder when you’re financially unstable and therefore stressed most of the time. Even more so when you have so much on your mind because part of your family life is an absolute mess and there’s nothing you can do about it.

But still, you continue to write. Why? There’s always a why. Everyone has a why.

And here’s mine:

I write because my head gets so full and the only way I can empty it out enough for me to think straight is by writing. It keeps me from going crazy… Most of the time, anyway.

So that’s what I’ve been doing this past couple of months. I haven’t been posting the things I’ve been writing because a good bit of it is really just journaling. And I’d rather not post my personal diary on the internet. Sorry.

Generally when writers have writers’ block or just don’t feel like writing, figuring out why they write helps them get back into it. Most people, in my own experience, are more willing to do things sometimes when they have a real reason for it.

So, what’s your why?


Untitled Work 4


But one day the truth will come out. And even then I still won’t get an apology from either of you. And that’s fine, that’s on the two of you. But at the end of the day, I know who and what I am. And I am none of the things you say I am.

Short Story Sunday!


Welcome to another Short Story Sunday! As you can see, I really love doing these. I find so many prompts around here and Tumblr that I just love putting to use. They’re a great way to get me writing and warm me up for anything else I’d like to write.

Anyway, here is the prompt for today. Hope you enjoy!


The Big Thirteen. That’s what my father had always called it. The day I get to find the item to channel my magic through for the coming years of training. It would be an essential tool for my future. And it all starts with today. In this magic shop.

They always say that you don’t get to choose your item. That’s not how magic works. Your item will choose you. And, generally, it’s something that can be used to describe part of your personality or your interests.

For example, my mother’s item was a beautiful antique hairbrush. And my father’s was a lovely calligraphy pen. It works because my father is a writer and my mother has been known for her luxurious locks of aubrun hair.

EveryEvery day for the past week I’ve been trying to figure out what item would pick me. Perhaps a pen or an antique sword. Maybe even a necklace of sorts. No matter how much I try to figure it out, though, I can never quite settle on one thing or another.

When my parents and I enter the magic shop I look around in wonder. It’s like the most enchanted thrift shop anyone could ever find. The walls are lined to the ceiling with various items. Some beautiful and others… Well, others are just average items.

“Go on, sweetie. We’ll wait for you right here.” My mother says, smiling at me warmly.

I look at her and then my father, my stomach rolling nervously. I’ve waited for this day my entire life and now that it’s here I’m nervous. It’s a big day, of course, but I shouldn’t let that scare me.

With a deep breath I begin making my way through the store. I’m not sure where to begin so I just walk straight down the middle. I run my fingers along each item, waiting to see that telltale glow my mother always told me about.

It doesn’t come, though. Not until I’m at the back corner of the shop. I can see a faint glow and my heart begins to race. It’s like a magnetic pull is leading my to it now that I know it’s there. I grin, glad that I’m finally about to find out what item has chosen me.

When I reach it I am taken off guard. It’s nothing like what I expected. And it’s impractical, to say the least. Am I really expected to haul this thing around everywhere I go? How ridiculous. This has to be some kind of mistake.

I look around, wondering if there’s someone else around that could possibly be the newfound owner of this item, but I’m still the only one here. I sigh and reach out, grabbing the heavy typewriter with a grimace. Of course this would be what I get. The universe sure has a sense of humor.

Short Story Sunday!


Welcome to another Short Story Sunday! I found this prompt here. I actually thought it was pretty funny and inspiring. I tend to be the girl around that doesn’t smile a whole bunch when I’m not with friends or family. And while I’m not totally covered in tattoos, I’ve still got enough to where people will either avoid me or approach me to tell me how cool they are. (I should do a blog post about my various tattoos. They’ve all got some pretty cool stories behind them!)

Anyway, as usual, if you use this prompt please link the tumblr it came from so the proper person gets credit! Link me in it as well so that I can read it, too.

And now, without further delay, here’s my short story for the day!

Ross sits in his last class of the day- calculus. He’s never liked math, but if he wants to get a good paying job at some point he has to just deal with it. For now. Usually in classes like these he gets bored out of his mind. He’ll just sit all the way in the back and watch the clock.

But this class is a different story. All because of Sabrina.

Sabrina is covered in tattoos from the neck down, as far as Ross can see anyway.  She’s even got a little one on her temple that he’s yet to decipher. On top of all the tattoos, she’s got piercings. A hoop on her nose, two near the corners of her mouth, and even more on her ears.

She’s generally a mean looking girl with dark, piercing eyes and constantly pursed lips. It’s like she’s always thinking about the best way to bash someone’s head in with her backpack. Usually she’ll sit next to him or just a few rows down, but she was late today. That mean’s the only free seat was the one right in front of Ross.

With how broody she constantly looked, Ross always justed assumed she was really focused on her classwork. Or evil plots. But what he sees today completely blows him away.

She’s got her lap top open with funny cat videos pulled up. The last thing he thought he’d see on her computer. He wonders how she’s able to watch those adorably funny videos without even cracking a smile.

When she tilts her head down to look at her notebook he peers over her shoulder. His mouth drops open when he sees her doodling in the margins of he notebook. With the way she looks, he thought her doodling would be of… Well, grim things to say the least. But in reality she’s doodling little kittens and balls of yarn.

The bell startles Ross and he quickly sits back in his seat. Sabrina looks back at him, cocking an eyebrow at him. He smiles awkwardly at her and hurriedly puts his things into his backpack. He wants to talk to her, but he honestly just has no idea how to start a conversation with this puzzling girl.

“Erm. Those are some really cute kittens you drew.” He blurts, his ears growing hot with embarrassment.

“Thanks.” She mutters, blushing a little bit as well as she rises from her seat.

“Well, uh,” He scrambles out of his seat and follows her, “You’re not what I expected you to be like.”

Sabrina looks at him, a hint of a smirk on her pierced lips. Oh God, why do I keep putting my damn foot in my mouth? Ross thinks, mentlly facepalming himself. He wants to shut up, but it’d be even weird if he did.

“I mean, it’s just… Well you-” He sighs, shaking his head, “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I get that a lot, you know.” Sabrina chuckles, giving Ross a warm smile he never thought she’d be capable of.

“Right, I bet you do.” He nods and breathes a sigh of relief, “Why do you… Well, why do you have all those tattoos? They’re sort of intimidating.”

“I don’t see why people are always telling me that. It’s just art. It’s not like I’ve got tattoos of satanic symbols or anything. I mean, seriously.” Sabrina rolls her eyes.

“I guess you’re right. I just haven’t been around people with so many tattoos. Plus you don’t really smile much.”

“So that makes me a mean person? Tattoos and not smiling?” Sabrina asks.

“Well, not mean. I guess more unapproachable, you know?” Ross replies, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Have you ever thought that I just don’t want to be approached then?” She snaps, cocking her head to one side.

“Geez, sorry. I’ve got a bad habit of putting my foot in my mouth.” Ross sighs.

“Whatever. Don’t worry about it.” Sabrina huffs, “It’s just a touchy subject for me. I mean, my mom sent me to the doctor in middle school because she thought something was wrong with me. You should’ve seen her face when the doctor told her I just have a serious case of resting bitch face.” She laughs.

“Wow, that’s… Wow.” Ross laughs, at a loss for words at that one.

“Yeah, and things got even more hilarious after that.” Sabrina grins.

“And how is that?” Ross asks, starting to feel a little more comfortable with talking to Sabrina now that they’ve gotten past his faux pas.

“Well, there was the piercings in my first couple years of high school. Then, when I was seventeen I got my first tattoo gun. I did a few wicked pieces on myself back then.”

“Which ones are those?” He asks.

Sabrina shows him her various tattoos, some she did herself and others she got from someone else. They continue to laugh and talk, sitting in the quad for hours on end. By the end of it all, Ross has made a new friend and learned many lessons. The biggest one being that judging someone by their outter appearance is one of the dumbest things you could do.

Short Story Sunday


And here is another Short Story Sunday, because I’ve been using lots and lots of prompts lately! This week’s prompt comes from this lovely blog on Tumblr. I’ve had it saved for a while and figured now would be a good time to use it for inspiration.
I like to borrow your lipstick – it feels like a kiss. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to your lips on mine, isn’t it?

These words cross my mind as I apply the blood red lipstick. I want to say it. I’ve wanted to say this and so many other things like it since the day I met her. But I can’t. She’s in love with him and thinks that I’m nothing more than her best friend.

It’s obvious that she doesn’t think I’ve got feelings for her. She’s constantly trying to hook me up with guys at parties we go to. Hell, she even set me up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. I sucked it up and went only because I thought it’d make her happy. It did.

So tonight we’re all going out. Together. On some sort of double date. I’d rather tear my hair out than go, but I don’t want to miss an opportunity to spend time with her.

“You look great.” She said, her reflection smiling at me through the mirror.

I do my best to smile back at her. I wish like Hell she meant it in a different way. I wish she would say it in a way that insinuated that she wanted to kiss me or tear off my clothes or.. Or something.

“You look sort of troubled… Wanna talk about it?” She asked, leaning against the wall by the door.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” I assured her, bringing back that false smile I keep plastered on my face when she’s around.

“No, seriously. You’ve been acting weird since your blind date. What’s going on?”

I sigh, not wanting to scare her off, but also wanting to just get this off of my chest already. Keeping this secret from her has been so frustrating. It’s hard not to confide in my best friend. It’s even harder being in love with her and not being brave enough to say anything.

“I’m just nervous about seeing someone. I’m not really into dating right now, I guess.” I finally mutter, shrugging for empahsis.

“Well why didn’t you tell me that? I wouldn’t have made you go if I’d have known.”

“It’s fine, really. I’ll give him another shot.”

“Okay. If you don’t like him enough to keep seeing him after this I won’t set up anymore dates.” She grinned.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes and smile back at her.

As she leads me to the car that night I find myself wishing that I would have made the leap.

How I Met My Husband


Hey everyone! I’ve decided it’s been a long time since I’ve done a post about one of my many adventures with my husband. I really enjoying sharing these memories with everyone so I figured I’d keep doing it.

The last one (and only one) I did was about our imprmptu roadt trip to Disney, which was an amazing trip. The one I’ll be talking about today is how we met. It may be a little long, given we’ve known each other for so long.

I’ll just start the story telling instead of rambling. 😉


So, at the age of about fourteen or fifteen I was in a band with some of my friends from school. The drummer was my best friend at the time so I’d spend a ton of time at her house outside of band practice. The bass player lived in the same neighborhood and was also a good friend of mine. When we didn’t have band practice he would bring Tedom (husband) over, or my best friend would drag me down the road to Tedom’s house to invite him over to her house.

After a few months I stopped hanging around there and we lost touch. A year later we went to a birthday party for a mutual friend and a year after that we saw each other at a local concert. We never dated since I had a steady boyfriend at the time and he generally had a girlfriend all of the time.

BUT after three years of no contact at all, we found each other again. I was supposed to be moving three hours away, so I invited two of my friends out to the bar for a going away party. My guy friend invited Tedom out with us, and he actually showed up. Seeing him again gave me butterflies, especially when he gave me the biggest smile.

He sang karaoke up on stage and played pool with me, making me laugh so much I teared up. The funniest thing, though, was when the owner of the bar (someone we both know pretty well) asked him if I was his wife. He just smiled at me and shook his head.

We clicked instantly and it was like no time had even passed. We were attached at the hip for the rest of the night, he even slept over at my house. (My cat adored him so I should have known it was a done deal, but I’m stubborn, so.) Two days after I moved away he came visit me, buying me lots of candy and burgers because I wasn’t feeling great.

Two weeks later I moved in with him. Driving three hours to him and three back nearly everyday was way too much. Besides, how could I turn down such an offer from someone I could actually see myself being with long term? Instead of running from him like I had with two guys before him, I stuck around and it turned out to be the best decision of my life.

The biggest lesson I learned was that everything happens for a reason. I left someone I had been with for six years and even though I was afraid I decided Dominick would be worth risking it all for again.


Hope you enjoyed this one. It wasn’t as much of an adventure as the last time, but I still wanted to share it with all of you. ❤

Writing Prompt Response


Hey everyone! I hope you’re all having a wonderful week. It’s almost Thanksgiving! (One of my favorite holidays, because food.)

However, I’m not doing the traditional “have dinner with the family” Thanksgiving. I am going to be spending my Thanksgiving in North Carolina with my husband and his brother. He’s a United States Marine and just happens to be stationed about fifteen and a half hours away from home. (By car.) So, we will make that trip and spend time with him.

What are your Thanksgiving plans? Do you celebrate it? Let me know, I’d love to chat!

Anyway, here is the writing prompt response as promised:

I lay back in his bed, watching him make music at his desk top. He bobs his head to the beat, a cigarette between his lips. The smoke swirls around him, the smell of menthol familiar to me.

I smile a little, watching his hands work. I think back to about thirty minutes ago, remembering the way those hands traveled across my body slowly. His breath smelled like red wine when he kissed me ever so softly, sending shivers down my spine. The smell and taste of him got me drunk in a way I never had been before.

And those eyes. My God, those eyes… The lightest of greens, reminding me of the sea. It was so easy to get lost in them. I could stare at them all day, studying the pattern of his irises.

Everything about him makes me want him. From the way he holds a cigarette to the way he squints his eyes almost too much when he laughs at something completely ridiculous.

This realization terrifies me, but I tell myself to deal with it. I tell myself to give him a chance instead of running away the second either of us becomes too attached. If I never give anyone a chance then I’ll never truly connect with anyone. I know that I may not be ready for it now, but someday I will be. And I think he is the perfect person to connect with.