The Space to Write – Day 6

So we are writing about our space, where it is that our writing is taken in the physical.

Currently mine is at a desk I got off of a trading site ( for free, which was actually pretty lucky! It was a beat up old thing when I first picked it up and it still is, except for the part that’s used to store and write/type at.
So to actually tell you what it is. It’s probably only a couple of years old and not sure where you would have bought it. It’s made from chipboard pieces so relatively cheap and in the shape of a wardrobe. It has a set of swing out doors at the bottom and two shelves, one smaller, one bigger, at the top. As for the middle, a door swings down and is fixed now by chains that I installed and it becomes a desk. It’s beautiful although tacky for me since it is where I can unwind and write posts such as this, even play a few games or two on my laptop. inside the main compartment are more shelves both vertical and horizontal to store all your little treasures you may have, it also features a lockable compartment inside and an old brass cased light to shine down on your work as you plod away.

This is my space to write so far and I can’t wait for the future of my own home to be able to create my dream space. That’s a post for another time.

A Story in a Single Image – Day 4

Today we write from a selected picture to invent a post as yesterday we had chosen a single word to present the same. Here is my little tale.


My hands were ice, I forgot to grab my mittens but managed to steal my blue jacket being held by the coat rack at the door running through at full stride. I knew if there was any chance for surviving my escape, it would start with this. I could see my breath in the crisp air, how long was I running for? It seemed like miles before I came to a halt within the depths of these accursed pine barrows. As a kid I would play on the border gazing in at the magic it held, oh how innocent the mind of a child is. That’s the one thing missed most is not seeing the danger, or not knowing in the first place, in everything that is around you. I fumbled in the pockets of my pants for his phone, numb fingers grasping at in-animates and unknowns was all that registered in my mind since the sense of touch was completely removed from my wrists to the tips of my now ghostly white appendages. The feeling of being watched was all to present now the world has slowed down, I can see and hear clearly instead of feeling the blistering wind stinging my eyes and making them water or the deafening whisper of wind in my ears. There was a rustle behind me, distant, but gaining ground. I had to find my phone fast, I had to get a call out to Jack before it was too late. Maybe he could help me? Maybe he will come looking? I don’t expect him to after how I treated him, leaving him running after the car with tears in his eyes calling me back to him, I miss him so much. Finally, my phone was foreign in my dead like hand but my brain knew enough to make it work even without the luxury of touch. It started to ring, I started to walk. Tall pines passing with every few steps, a lengthy maze of trunks but no walls besides the sea of brown that may have passed for one. I couldn’t see the end, I had to keep moving, my fear still had a firm grasp on my instincts and all it queried was, MOVE! Running with phone in hand and hand placed against what I think was my ear, god it’s so cold I can’t tell, the reassuring sound of a dial tone cut through the air blowing past. “hello this is Jack?” Jack said concerned. “JACK HELP! HE IS AFTER ME!” I screamed. “Amanda?” His tone emitted confusion as if he couldn’t believe if it really was me. “Amanda, where are you?” “In the pine barons” I replied “You… You were right, I shouldn’t have left”. Jacks voice filled with urgency “Get somewhere safe now and call me straight away, I’m coming to find you now! Run Amanda, RUN!” I should have listened to him, my legs were burning with each foot fall, I just want him to hold me again so I know it’s all over, tears streamed down my cheeks. I was running harder than I have in my life, only because this time my life was on the line, he was after me. Time was lost and everything was a blur of brown, coldness and silence apart from the occasional whoosh of wind slithering through the trees. Through my own chaos the silence was suddenly broken, an all too familiar metallic screech followed by a thunderous crack. He could see me, he knew how to hunt and I was the prey, I couldn’t see him. Darting through trees I couldn’t help but let out a yell for help of anyone near by…

Unfortunately this is where the tale lies. Again this one is unedited although I have spent more time writing it out. Hope you all enjoyed.

Now it is time for me to hit the hay but I also wish you all a good day/night and all the best.

One-word inspiration – Day 3

Today’s piece is asking for us to choose one of the 6 words..

.Hope, Regret, Home, Choice, Abundance, Secret.

.. and use the inspiration of what we think about when seeing that word, what is  it that jumps to mind. I myself was originally going to go with the word regret and do some personal writing, but because I wanted to take writing 101 to inspire me to write each day + write a novel = the outcome of my writing being fictional and something spontaneously written without too much thought.

Lets see what I can come up with and see if you can spot which word I chose, should be a cinch.

“I.. I didn’t mean for it to end up this way!”
Athakis, as hardened as he was in the battle against the Kitsilli’s nothing could have prepared him for this.
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH TRAITOR!” a thunderous voice from behind the mask of the executioner hit him, like a Kitsilli’s venom injected straight to the neck!
Athakis recoiled with a sudden fear and doubt, he was finished in this world, his life about to be taken away by everyone in his position does. Usually his position licensed him to his own battalion, in the front lines of the seemingly endless war that’s raged since before he was born. Being trained by his father and like his father before him, this is how he has such a taste for violence, but this lust for carnage is honed only for the devilish Kitsilli and never has he turned blade to man nor woman!
Only this time.. this time there was no volition.
Shivers crawled under his skin in every direction as the spinning stone wheel screeched against the executioners axe. The sound pierced the angry roars of the onlooking gore fans awaiting the bloodshed owed in justice for treason against the man who so claimed would bring final victory.
A tomato walloped Athakis in the cheek, juices spraying and the acid stinging the eyes. He couldn’t see well through the tears that forcefully rimmed his eyes, he closed them. This is for the best, he thought to himself, through the darkness I will be brought to peace and no more shall i have to suffer.
It was here again, the voice, the voice of an unknown prophet in his mind playing puppet master from behind closed doors.
Please, leave me in peace, I will have no more of your lies!
Why did you make me do it? I didn’t want this! Why are you here?!
No one knew what was really going on, all eyes were on the executioner. His trademark tool glinting in the setting sun, holding it high to entice the ever forming mob. It was entertainment with the exectuioner being the main show and he knew his job well, after all this deep in the outer reaches of the front line colonies this was a delicacy when it comes to merrymaking.
The heavy newly sharpened axe is raised high, beads of sweat slowly running down the bare elbows of it’s owner.
There would be a feast once the head rolls, everyone thought, a wonderful night of partying and drinking.
Falling slowly, straining against the high gravity on this small planet, the axe lowers to Athakis’ neck. A practice to get his aim right, he doesn’t want to miss. A quick death was ordered to be given, since before his actions Athakis was an essential pawn in this game of chess and what pawn he was.
Any event that draws a crowd like this is excuse enough to forget their troubles for a night, eyes fixated and even heads bobbing with the movement of the axe, as if hypnotized.
Gripping its wooden handle with all that could be mustered, the executioner takes his swing. Slicing the air and travelling with such precision that you could tell it was surgical accuracy of man who has done this enough to perform it blindfolded. The bellow of the crowd heightened nearing the end of Athakis and the start of a bad hangover to come.
But stopped.
Stopped just like the executioners axe.
Gasps escaped the crowd. Excitement turned to confusion and just as quickly to outrage. No head was rolling, no blood streaming down the stained chopping stone, no drinks would be drunk tonight.
A force that could not be explained but seen with the eyes of all who saw reflected the axe as if it struck metal. Sparks flew with the contact of this unknown and uninvited mishap, but what couldn’t be seen or heard is the commands being directed by the puppet master with in Athakis.

So ahh, that didn’t go as expected. My story changed along the entire way and new ideas were incorporated as I went but didn’t see it happening as such. This is also unedited, nothing has been changed since it’s been typed.

Anyhow if you have reached the end and didn’t fall asleep through it I would greatly appreciate feedback as I’m practicing to write a novel. Critiques on viewpoint, structure, description or even character involvement would be a great help. I know its only short in comparison to a book but we all have to start somewhere.

Wish you all well.

The journey begins..

For those of you tuning in and have read my first ever post it mentions something about me wanting to write a novel. This is my current first page rough draft of anything fictional that I have ever wrote and shared to the public. FEEL DAMN PRIVILEGED!! hehe, just joking. I’m happy to share even if there is a negative outcome but that will only make me work harder, so in turn to that i say thank you.

Now without any further procrastination or ramblings here is the first page (as far as i have gotten at this point) of my novel in the making.


“Dad, I’m coming!”. Sebastian called back. “This pick axe is heavy”.
“Hurry son, we don’t have much time left”.
I know we don’t, Sebastian thought to himself with frustration and nervousness, this isn’t the first time he’s crept out to the old silver mine with his father.
Speaking softly to his horse.
“Come on Waldermar”.
He pulled the old leather reins wrapped in his hand, cracked and dried fibers scratching against this young skin.
Waldemar let out a snort of annoyance that bellowed in the surrounding canyon walls, it was an ominous sound echoing back from the shadows, but the steed followed obediently.
His fathers pick axe was lugged over shoulder, it bounced up and down with each step along the forgotten back mountain trail.
There was a cold wind out, blowing its brisk breeze, cascading through trees and being directed by the flow of the valley and rocks within. This didn’t put Sebastian at ease as the sun was almost below the horizon long eclipsed by the natural walls with which he walks, his father was not phased.

So ahh yeah, enjoy and hopefully will have some more thrown up down the line of time.

All the best.

@meredith thank you for being eager to read any of my work that i was willing to put up, I hope you like

Make a list.- Day 2


Gee that was easy to convince wasn’t it? Haha. Previously, taking a seat at my writing desk after a wonderfully productive day at work, a quick session at the gym cut short due to knee pains sustained at work today (not happy) and now all showered scoffing down a bowl of the usual my-eyes-are-bigger-than-my-stomach butter chicken and rice.

I’m to write this list for the day two writing 101 and i’m going to choose all three of the list headings to write about, i believe 5 majors of each should do.

Things I Like:

  • The Beach.
  • An intellectual and if not, sustained conversation.
  • Food.
  • Friendship.
  • Looking at other peoples house interior. (nice ones)

Things I have Learnt:

  • Chivalry in generations 1990 till now is 99.9% dead.
  • A simple yet powerful quote ‘Be like water my friend’.
  • To have confidence and pride in myself.
  • That etiquette both male and female is also 99.9% dead.
  • Human beings are a terrible species.

Things I Wish:

  • To be able to have an adventurous life.
  • To be able to fly without use of machines.
  • To have my own house designed and on a block of land big enough for self sustainability. 😀
  • That i can meet my one true soulmate soon.
  • To be the best that i can be

Thank you all for reading, I enjoyed this little project and I look forward to the  next piece of assessment.

Wish you all well.

First Post, First Day

I’m to start this writing blog off with a topic of why I write, this is in regards to a month-long process of writing 101 and I hope to read some good stories from others in this same starting group for November. So here it is.

I write because… To be honest, because I don’t know…

May I start with a few years ago, around 6 I do believe, I used to write but only a little. This bizarre and extremely foreign occurence would come to me whilst in an extreme upset mood, yes I’m talking about wallowing in a sheet puddle of tears due to what i believe was a form of depression (that is another story, that might not get told). I would write, yes write, poems to be exact. I wrote poems that only I would see and they would be written about the events that led me to be upset, it would be brief but complete. 10 minutes and I would have one written out with me left thinking “how the hell?” but also with me feeling better like the ink on paper slowly draining from pen was carrying away my sorrows from within and leaving them there on the page.

Fast forwarding to now.

I write (type), currently, to perhaps produce a novel. Whether it becomes published or not I don’t care, I know it will not be good enough and that is ok because practice is all I am after. I write because I don’t want to be apart of the young world filled with mobile phones glued to face and fingers, a personality of a stick and the social skills of a cat (we all know the use humans to get benefits those damn cute little felines). But mostly I write because I know it will improve me as a person, vocabulary, happiness, true friendships not based on a type of  blind social status thought up by bad sorts, to tell stories for all to enjoy, the list could go on but i think you understand. I want to improve me, I want to be clear on improve and not change, I’m happy with who I am but I want to be the best me I can be.

For those who have read this, I do thank you for your time and I will be following this month process closely (I hope I can keep up) and by then end I wish to be at least a chapter into my book with the kickstart of my artistic mind to habit a day-to-day writing procedure to incorporate in my life.

Wishing you a good night/day,
Yours truly.