Showing posts with label Writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writer. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Happy JunoWrimo!




Greetings and Salutations Nerds!

I know, I know it’s been a minute between blog posts. Things got a little busy, but fear not! I have not forgotten about thee! I’m in the middle of reviewing two books, writing my own, writing four critical analysis for my short story class, and drudging my way through my oceanography lab. You would think that would be enough for me, but come on now! I’m a multitasking nerd, and I found some awesome motivation for my story.

Now, most people have heard of NanoWrimo – at least the people I speak to online. Not everyone in my real life knows what it is because they are not absolutely obsessed with reading and writing like I am. However, what some people may not have heard of – but still have the chance to get involved with is:




DRUM ROLL PLEASE!!

JUNOWRIMO!!

JUNE NOVEL WRITING MONTH!


This is brought to you by:


These two lovely ladies have personalized JunoWrimo. Now, I generally participate in NanoWrimo – but I rarely if ever finish. The truth is I’m not a big fan of the layout of their site, the mass groupings, and to me, it's just not very personal. Now don’t get me wrong, NanoWrimo is great! It motivates and prompts people to write their asses off! But, I’m more of an interactive person. I work full time, go to school full time, sleep part time, review books, write stories, and so many of the Write-Ins for NanoWrimo just don’t happen for me. (Of course that won't stop me from trying again this year.) Their motivational posts by published authors also help, but with JunoWrimo – at least to me – there’s more of a sense of community.

If you have a Twitter account I highly recommend following @JunoWrimo on twitter. There are writing sprints, word mongers, and these wonderful ladies take the time to reply back to people individually, personalizing JunoWrimo and the motivation that comes along with it. I also very much enjoy the layout of their site, and the fact that they add little prompts into the tweets for the writing sprints. They also remind you to take breaks and stretch your legs. For someone like me, who has a million and one things to do during the day, but is still pursuing my dream of becoming a writer, this is perfect. I’m meeting new people, fellow writers, and truly enjoying this experience.

My suggestion – whether you think you have the time or not – sign up at www.JunoWrimo.com You may well surprise yourself at how much you get done with the support of this fantastic community. Also if you get a moment don't forget to like them on facebook. :)

Friday, May 17, 2013

Book Review: "For Those With Eyes To See" by Troy Blackford


There are many reasons I love Twitter.  The personality of people, the breaking news updates in the publishing world, book promotions, and not to mention the fact that sometimes you can catch an author looking for a book reviewer. The ladder is how I snagged a copy of Troy Blackford’s short story collection entitled, “For Those With Eye’s To See.”  

When he asked if there was anyone who wanted to review a short story collection, I asked, “What sort of short stories?”  To which Troy replied, “Mostly horror, but all completely weird.”  Yes, this was our twitter conversation.  Mr. Blackford, you had me at weird.  I’d also like to mention that in his introduction, Troy states:

“The short story isn't the most respected or read form of writing right now, but I don’t see why that should be the case. If tawdry romance can make a literary comeback, then I think the short story’s time is due.”

I couldn't agree more.  I love short stories, reading them, writing them, drooling over them – and they are the perfect thing for someone to read who has a busy day.  Catch a story in between tasks at work, at lunch, or on the bus ride home.  So, for anyone reading this who hasn't given the short story a chance, I would suggest doing so, and if you’re into the weird, the macabre, and the twisted – like me – I would definitely suggest picking up Troy Blackford’s “For Those With Eye’s To See.”

These stories are fiendishly twisted, beautifully described, and never fail in sucking the reader right into the thick of things.  Each story is vastly different from the next.  His scenes are subtle, and he knows when he needs to show or to tell, and how to blend everything in between.  Blackford’s imagination is fun, original, and will no doubt in a few instances have the reader going:  “Seriously, dude, what the hell goes on in that head of yours?”

It is excellent and refreshingly original, not to mention it’s something you can read on the go.  I foresee many good things coming from one Mr. Troy Blackford.  Be careful though, wildly creative talent and addictive fans often lead to stalkers – which may only fuel more of the authors imagination.

"For Those With Eyes To See," by Troy Blackford gets FOUR ½ out of FIVE stars from me for being engaging, not having the same repetitious crap in one book, and I’ve only shed the half star because in the story “All In Your Head,” Mike knew the name of all the surgical equipment after doing crazy research, but Victor in “Promising Candidate” - a veteran trucker well versed in the lingo - never once referred to a refrigerated truck as a reefer unit.   However, that’s just my own little peeve because my daddy was a trucker in his younger days.  Don’t let that little tidbit deter you at all.  Trust me this is well worth the read if you enjoy the dark side of literature.


 1/2


About The Author:

Troy Blackford is a 29 year-old writer living in the Twin Cities with his
wife, two cats, and a son on the way.



His stories have appeared in places like Bewildering Stories, Roadside
Fiction, Roar & Thunder, the Glass Coin, Rose Red Review, and
Inkspill Magazine.

He has three other publications available on Kindle and in Paperback.

You can find out more about him on his website:

or follow him on Twitter: @TBlackford3




Thursday, March 28, 2013

Short Story: Missing


Missing
By Natasha Post

Ona was the type of place where everyone knew everyone’s business, the best sweet tea was made daily at the Mobile station down the way, and every old biddy over fifty thought they were the moral judgment of the town.  Dan’s aunt, May Cartwright, was among them.  She valued herself a Godly woman who came from a good family.  They were good Christian people who attended church, had prayer groups, bake sales, and charity events.  May directed each and every one of them with an iron fist of fire, brimstone, and judgment.  She believed she was ten feet above the rest of the town with a clean soul, God on her side, and shit that smelled like the aroma of gardenias on a warm summer day.  May didn’t think herself a sinner, but thought that just about everyone else was.  She enjoyed letting folk know it too.

It was just after Sunday church that news broke of her brother in laws unfaithfulness. May felt her family had been shamed.  A few months later the harlot announced she was pregnant, and May was certain the embarrassment would drive her to an early grave. Her sister forgave the cheating bastard and thought it the right thing to do to raise the child, since the harlot wanted nothing to do with him. 

Dan’s father and step mother had been loving parents, but Aunt May had no problem opinionating just how worthless the bastard boy was.  She’d often throw slights his way, punish him for things he didn’t do, and promise that God’s wrath was coming for him. Dan’s parents passed away in a car accident not long after he turned nineteen – which May imagined was God’s justice slamming down upon them for harboring the boy. She took in their younger child, Gidget, but since Dan was of legal age, she figured he could make it on his own.  

Dan got a job at the local tourist attraction, Swamp Lands Airboat Gator Tours, and found a small place in town.  It wasn’t much, just a one bedroom studio over the old bar that’d been around since before he was born.  To supplement the rent he did a bit of handy work around the building.  Most folk had no problem with Dan. It was only May and her gaggle of judgment bringers that felt the need to remind Dan he would never be worth the breath they were wasting on him.  It made him wonder why May had been so insistent on doing so. Dan did his best to avoid May, but since she was watching over his little sister, and anyone could just about spit from one end of town to the other, it was inevitable to cross paths with her.  He’d lived with May’s view of him for long enough and learned, for the most part, to ignore it, despite the anger it stirred in him. Turning his resentment outward, only ever made things worse.  His daddy had whipped him once when he was a child for voicing his opinion of May.  Afterwards he explained that while May was wrong, Dan was too, and he needed to learn that people would think what they thought, but ultimately, who Dan would be was up to him.  After that, no matter how cruel May acted, Dan never raised his voice and politely greeted her in turn. 

Gidget disappeared from her bed in the middle of the night, and May called him. Dan was too worried about his sister to think about how much it must have prickled May’s pear to have to ask him for help. Dan found Gidget at the cemetery next to their parent’s graves, curled up, and sleeping in the dirt.  She had started sleep walking.  He’d brought her home safe, but May didn’t thank him. She believed God was now punishing Gidget because of the tarnish Dan brought upon them. Pushing away the anger, Dan sighed and left. May took precautions to keep Gidget from getting out of the house, but every so often the girl would manage to sneak out, and May would call Dan.  She’d tell him to check the usual spots.  He’d be surprised she knew the usual spots since May never went out to look for her. Each time Dan would find Gidget, bring her home, and May would find a new way to place the blame on him.

When Gidget wandered off she was usually in one of three places: the cemetery, the park, or the drive-in.  This time, Dan found her on the highway five miles outside of town beneath the Swamp Lands Airboat Gator Tours billboard.  It was worrisome that she was going out of the town, and when Dan brought her home with bloody feet, May decided it was the last straw, and explained to Dan that she was going to put the girl in the local mental institution.  Dan started to protest, but May reminded him he had no say in this.  She was only telling him because it was the Godly thing to do.  Dan didn’t think the Godly thing was to lock away a teenage girl.

The quaint country themed living room with wood floors and tanned couches set the scene for the verbal boxing match.  Dan and May started yelling, slinging slander, and saying things that Dan knew he’d regret later, but May probably wouldn’t.  It was the first time since Dan had been a child that he’d vocalized his anger and hatred.  It escalated into fury, dredging up every memory of May trying to verbally beat him down, each punishment he hadn’t deserved, and compounding everything with the fact she now wanted to lock Gidget away.  He knocked a lamp from the side table. It shattered, the pieces scattering across the floor.  The resentment Dan had been concealing, that he had so carefully controlled for well over a decade dissolved, and so did his world.  

Dan didn’t know how much time had passed, but when the world came back it was vivid.  The sun streamed brighter through the sheer curtains over the window making the broken lamp shards glitter on the ground. A wood pecker grated its beak against a tree and a metallic, sharp scent grounded Dan back in reality.  May’s body lay on the floor lifeless and covered in blood.  Fear slammed into him, his chest tightened, and Dan looked down at his hands.  They were drenched in the crimson, his pocket knife glistening in his grip. Stumbling back, Dan fell on the couch. Gidget stood at the base of the stairs, trembling in shock with a look of horror on her face.

There was a triumphant smile on May’s wrinkle lined lips, as if in death she was justified with everything she’d said about him. Dan’s memories were missing, but there was no doubt it had been his hand that ended her life.  May have been a cruel old bitty, but she hadn’t deserved this. He could have taken Gidget and run. Dan had lost time, killed May in a rage, but if he ran now, everything she had claimed about him would be absolute truth.  He’d spent his life defying May’s beliefs of him.  There was no way in hell he was going to let her words hold meaning, especially not now.  His voice trembled as he reassured Gidget it would be all right. Taking out his cell phone, Dan called the sheriff.
***
Just a side note this was written for my fiction writing class.  I got a 96%, worked on it more based on the critiques and thought I'd post it here.  Dialogue was not allowed. I hope you enjoyed.