Meet The Weirds by Kaye Umansky.
A wonderful book about friendships being built between children who come from the opposite ends of the social spectrum; a really funny read that left me wanting more, however the book ended abruptly and made me feel a little cheated as there were hardly any plot; the book should be extended.
Meet The Weirds by Kaye Umansky.
You’re a bad man Mr. Gum by Andy Stanton.
I read these books in June 2014 as they were highly recommended to me by various members at goodreads.com and I have to say I am bitterly disappointed.
I would never let a child of mine read these unless they were teenagers, I really don’t find these books suitable for under twelves; they seem to condone animal cruelty, crime, dog poisoning, selling rancid meat and all sorts of undesirable trash that makes being evil seem cooler than being good, which in my opinion is not something I want to convey to my children – in fact they make the good people in the book come across as total idiots and evil people as being very clever, truly shocking as a children’s series to be honest, I was expecting far better.
The rating for these books is low, despite the humor in some pages; I think these books should be re-categorized as adult fantasy comedy.
A ball of burnt orange and red felt is clasped within my hands, I can smell its fragrance it taunts me to take a bite, I feel obliged. Slowly I bite the over ripe fruit and the juice trickles down my chin, drenching my white blouse but I do not care, for the moment and those moments after is sheer heavenly bliss.
The ball of felt has teased all of my senses, the furriness caresses my lips, and the fruit is tangy, watery and cool on my tongue and in my mouth, the fragrance appetizing, alluring, and enveloping and the sight soul clenching.
A slight embarrassment takes me over as I hear the lapping of the juices around my mouth, a little laughter of my friends who’ve noted my secret pleasure with the summer snack, abashed I take a napkin and wipe myself clean, that fruit was simply, perfectly supreme.
I am back after a long illness, still not fully recovered but missed updating this blog a lot.
I had a sinus infection in December which affected the chest too and by late April I got pneumonia because of the prolonged infection; thankfully pneumonia is no longer an issue, though I still have those infections even now and I have been told on Wednesday that there could be further health complications with my ears.
The sinus has caused pressure in my left ear which has affected my hearing due to making the ear drum deformed (hopefully temporarily); this is scary stuff as I am already completely deaf in my right ear and have been since 1997, so this is worrying news indeed.
Originally posted on Thought Catalog:
1. We cry at home for you.
Nurses might seem like we have it all together while we are working hard to take care of you, but the truth is that sometimes after a particularly heavy shift, we cry our freaking eyes out over your/your families pain. Sometimes the stress of taking care of you while you are very critically ill is not only mentally, but also physically exhausting. We spend twelve hours at a time running around to get all of the supplies we need for your various tests, procedures, medications, and therapies, but really wish we could spend more time just holding your hand. Lots of people tell us “We don’t know how you can be a nurse! I could never do what you do.” Well, the thing is, we have all those same feelings too. The emotions that we have from watching…
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Originally posted on Flavorwire:
The hard work, the MFA vs. NYC debate, the negativity, the importance of a good Twitter account, the parties you have to go to, the readings you have to do, people you should meet, the agents you need to impress — amid all the different ways writers have found to obsess over what it takes to be successful, we sometimes forget the most important thing of all: great writers need to be great readers.
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My mind is like a racing car, it takes me to familiar places or far
It speeds from thought to thought in ever careless turns
It spurts out random wisdom that I’ve in past have learned
My mind is unpredictable, my thoughts they rush and whizz
Sometimes I fear I’ll burn out, my brain will just fizz
I need to slow the pace a little, but I’ve tried and surely can’t
My mind is like a racing car, hear the crowds all chant
For my mind has many voices, that all shout at once at me
How I wish my mind would just give me one thought at a time please
My head feels like it’s been squeezed
Originally posted on Handmade by Hannah:
A few weeks ago I stumbled upon a website called Readitswapit. It was recommended in a book on money saving tips as a place where you can swap books with other members, so the only cost involved is the postage. One the surface it seems like a good idea, especially for book clubs, as many people post the most current popular fiction up there. I thought I would give the website a go and see if it is worth it.
Initially, the swaps that I took part in worked out well as I traded some books that I had bought in my early teens for some newer books that I would like to read. As the books that I was posting were very light, the postage only cost around ninety pence, making it a worthwhile investment. However, when posting books any longer than two hundred pages, the postage cost can…
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The universe is a black ocean
Full of twists and turns
How I love to swim in its darkness
And fly too close to the sun that burns
This world is my prison
I sit and wait and stare
I have beautiful dangling prisms
That shimmers in lights glare
I watch those pretty crystals
Hanging above my head
I dream of another world
That I’ll go to when I’m dead
I see the wonderful flowers
In a sunny meadow bright
I’ll sit under green bowers
Soaking in the sight
I can’t wait for death to take me
Away from this bloodshot world
I hope fate has heard my plea
Under this branch I am curled
I’ll dream of another life
In another place
I hope it’s a life without strife
Or where I’m seen as a disgrace
I can’t abide this morbid world
Not for another day
I am lost in a netherworld
I need to run and play
This world is my prison
I am sure of it today
I need to fall into the crystal prisms
And leave this life that’s grey
One of the most inspirational authors of all time in my opinion is Paulo Coelho.
I have a particular fondness for his book “The Alchemist”; it is full of spiritual inspiration, positivity and motivation.
“The Alchemist” was one of those books where I couldn’t put it down for long and I am a slow but avid reader which meant this was two days’ worth of reading for me and I found every word spectacular and poetic.
I think perhaps this book touched me because I have always believed in the theory of cosmic ordering, working with the universe by changing your personal thought processes into a more positive structure – surrounding yourself with aspirations and motivational comments, reflecting on the good things in your life and trying hard to forget the bad things or at least, prevent the bad things from becoming the forefront of your mind.
There are sections of this book that indicate to me that Paulo Coelho must also believe in the philosophy of cosmic ordering himself though I may be wrong but the following quotes are very cosmic ordering suggestive;
“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
“So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.”
“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”
“We are travellers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”
“Every blessing ignored becomes a curse.”
“People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they don’t deserve them, or that they’ll be unable to achieve them.”
These are just a few of the many wonderful words written in the book “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho and from what I’ve heard (though haven’t yet read) that his many other books are also filled with the same inspiring prose as this all-time classic. I do endeavor to read more of Paulo Coelho’s books soon, when I do, I am sure to update my findings here.
This book spiritually changed me for the better and set me on a new path in life, I truly recommend this book for anyone who is losing faith in the world around them (by faith I am not talking religion but by faith in human nature or faith in the universe looking out for you).
Originally posted on Vampire Maman:
Alright, I have to admit I wrote that headline to get your attention.
I should have written “Haters are going to hate” or “Read whatever you want – I don’t care.”
This morning I glanced at an article on a well-known news website about Romance writers. It was interesting. It was fun. The writer mentioned the male models who grace the covers with their splendid bodies. Fun stuff. At least it was fun until I scrolled down to all of the rude and snarky comments from those who “don’t like romance.”
OK assholes, if you don’t like Romance DON’T READ IT. If you don’t like Vampires, Erotica, Popular Fiction, Mysteries, Suspense, Zombies, Ghosts, Westerns, Werewolves, Dragons, Fantasy, Time Travel, Medical Drama, Travel Logs, Lumberjack Drama, Amish Adventures, Magical Realism or any other genre type of book then DON’T READ IT.”
I have a secret for you…all the stuff you…
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I once knew a vampire who couldn’t accept the kill
Always sat back thoughtfully, making himself ill
He called himself an ethical vampire
That all others should aspire, to refrain from the killing of mortal men
Yet to him I lift the pen
And wrote to him this
To kill for your nourishment may not be bliss, but read my words carefully and listen to this
There are beasts in the world that kill like you do, and mortal men eat meat just as you used to
Therefore what’s the difference, between now and then? Other than the blood you take’s fresher
Is it because you’ve seen its life end?
He replied after a while and a letter I received
It said, thank you my dear for clarifying this fact
You’ve made me less anxious in the killing act
Now away I will go, into the night
I will now have my first guiltless bite
I never heard from him again, but I have heard from another vampire friend that he is quite well
And growing strong, and has always said he’ll remember me in fond
I cannot satisfy my blood lust anymore
It attacks me each and every day
In each and every way I want more
I cannot refuse it, but it doesn’t quench my thirst
So I carry on, my eternity is turning grey
I wish it would stop, to fate I implore
I’ve heard some of us go mad
The vampires of old have said
Drink blood till it’s cold and bad
A blood-lust can get you can get in your head
I can’t control it, it controls me
I can’t run away, from myself I can’t flee
I kill tirelessly, drinking, crying, and watching people dying because of me
I’m a vampire; I’ve gone mad I’ve bats in the belfry
I cannot stop the killing, someone please stop me
A vampire kills to survive, not more than three a week
Yet I keep on killing, I hunger for the last heart beat
That beautiful sound, that reason gets drowned in
The peace of the death of the victims I hold
The light in their eyes go out, this time is precious like gold
I am in heaven when they’re dead
For just a few moments
How I wish I could join them there forever
For I’m weary of heavens fragments
The vampires of old, they worry about me
They know I’ve lost my mind
But for now I cannot flee
Like an alcoholic I drink blood like wine
Drunk on the death of mortals
Endlessly seeking a portal
To end my existence
If you offered a way to end this
I’d take it in an instant
I cannot bare the sorrow anymore my love
You don’t know how you pain me so
You hurt me every time you go
For I’ve no idea of what you’re doing or where you go
I dream that you will change but deep inside I’ll always know
That you can’t or you won’t
But that’s my fault, for I love a demon
And so can I really blame you so?
If evil is in your nature, should I be the one to out your glow?
For I wouldn’t love you if I did, you are perfect as you are
But you scare me every time you’re away and every evil doing leaves a scar
My heart will forever break, but I hope it won’t shatter into powder someday
A little crack here and there will always make me thank that day
For things could be more worse than they already are
My heart is healing with its one thousandth scar
Demons are demons and that’s the way that they are
I have been going through some rigorous planning of a rather complicated storyline for the last couple of weeks and it has almost consumed me; I’ve drawn up maps and personality profiles of the places and people involved and I’ve never been so thorough and I’ve never enjoyed myself so much either.
If I ever finish this story it would probably have to be published in a multitude of volumes for its sheer size, this is all thanks to the inspiring fourteen books I’ve been reading of the Land of Oz written by L Frank Baum, The Harry Potter series by J.K Rowling and the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S Lewis; not to forget also the Dragonlance series of books and the immortal highlander, all of these things are meshing within my mind and are giving me great ideas.
I can’t tell you what the story is going to be about other than it’s going to be a fantasy novel for sure with some horror thrown in for good measure, I wouldn’t suggest at all that it will be as family friendly as the books I’ve mentioned above but I can guarantee that if this gigantic story ever gets finished and published that it would be a thrilling read for generations to come; full of action, adventure, fairy-tale, romance, heartbreak, betrayal, revenge, vampires, slavery, struggles, imprisonment and steamy sex.
Why can’t I share a snippet of the storyline with you? Well, I’ve noticed I am one of these annoying writers that when she shares her plot the plot loses its magic and I find myself unable to finish it; stories which remain a secret have ended up becoming finished so I am not taking any chances anymore and now I understand why legendary writers tend to guard their stories as top secrets until they’ve finished so fiercely… I think I might end up doing the same. Do you know that I have started twenty seven stories in the last seven years and I’ve only finished two of them and they were short stories? All of them were plots that were shared with others and at least eight of those plots were used to spark off other people (who also write) to write something similar to me, I don’t know, call me a snob if you like but that just loses the magic for me and I don’t do well competing with my writing, I don’t like it becoming a contest, and I think that’s why I didn’t partake in NaNoWriMo like I wanted.
I have found which market I want to write for and although I may not become as well known in that market as others who are more diverse I am happy in finding my feet amongst fantasy and horror for adults and fantasy and horror erotica.
I just promise myself I won’t be tempted to get my books published via e-readers because I want my standards to be professional, not dissing e-reader writers at all but the editing is usually sloppy I’ve found (since I’ve bought my kindle and read a few) and I find that unacceptable.
So, forgive me if my poetry has gone on the back bench a bit and please understand I am involved in something a little more exciting, though I will endeavor to try and post at least two poems a week as I don’t want my blog to falter.
I’ll post soon xx
Delicately my footsteps follow a path through the forest of night
I am overshadowed by things of delight
The mossy branches overhang above my head
I am dancing a weave through the crowded trees
I disturb a spider in its web
Tiptoeing graciously into a clearing
I find the moon shining bright
I take the hood off from my head
And bathe in its light
My time is midnight
And it is night here
I hold all nightly things close to my chest
For to me, they are dear
I am the mother of the night
My children are the stars
I know only peace at night
Away from the morning scars
I whisper wishes onto all
Of dreams that may come true
I am the whispers of the night you know
My voice it heals and soothes
I’ll lull you into sleep each night
Away from daily woes
You always follow in my footsteps
But you will never know
I am the mother of the night
The children are my stars
For you all shine brightly in my dark
And I keep you in my jars
I hang you up in the darkened sky
To shine your radiant lights
So you can light the path for me, the mother of the night
Shielded by the December moon, I am protected from the violent frosts
Away from dangers that bloom, in the wintery night I shan’t be lost
For I am the dreams that winter makes
I am here until the frost breaks
The shadows surround my soul
Enveloping me, I behold
Their love, their song, their warmth
With them I am free from taunts
With them I in the universe am launched
Higher than the moon, beyond the golden stars
Where I hear the universal tune of the ascended masters
These are colors of the winter that I am seeing now
Painted with greys and whites the pictures to my tale
A tale of winter harsh and cold, of a time that’s best forgot
Of a time when I discovered, a body that morbidly rots
Along the banks of the canal, a ladies leg I saw
And I was ushered away fiercely, from the ravenous crow like caws
And I remember running, a running from that sound
I had no clue where I was going; I did not know where I was bound
I chose that moment not to tell, or speak of what I saw
And mockingly it followed, the crow with the callous caws
Why I did that I can’t tell, for fear is a funny thing
But to this day I still hear it, the mocking crow still sings
Caw, Caw, it goes all night, Caw, Caw, it goes all day
It will never leave me now, it will always stay
A punishment for cowardice, a punishment for my fear
No matter how hard I run from it, those caws I’ll always hear
I am being sent insane, a chastisement for my dread
And I will never forget this, not until I’m dead
Opportunity knocks on my door
Will I choose to open it, or will I ignore?
Seldom do I answer, the knock, knock, knocking calls
I am too afraid of leaving my four walls
Imprisoned in fear, there is no hope
I cannot be something now
For I did not open the doors to see what fate for me had ploughed