It’s that time again. No more distractions, no more school. Time to focus, self-educate, and re-ignite the blog. Consider the ribbon cut. Mylifesentenced is back in operation, baby — the gears are turning! I am excited to share new found insight, techniques, and creative pieces. I think I have made significant progress in the craft, and with it, will be bringing some revamped, newly scheduled content that I hope you will all enjoy. Stay tuned for the first post for the new and improved site. Carpe Lucem!
-God it feels good to be a writer.
Jeff sat in an endless field of orchids in his wife’s favorite wooden rocking chair. He was wearing the blue button up shirt she bought him on their first anniversary, along with the pants she gave him at Christmas, the shoes for his birthday, and the watch she got him for the hell of it. A cold breeze blew the field of orchids in unison like that of a synchronized water dance. They brushed against the back of his hands, and a sensation of serenity fell upon him. He closed his eyes and surrendered himself to it. Read more at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/623771
I knew reading was just as important to hone your writing skills as writing is, but I never really comprehended what that meant, until now. When you are armed with specific analytical tools, and you can jump into the text and read as a writer, it is an amazing feeling. Every book I read now feels like I am just fueling the brain tank and learning the techniques of the masters. (more…)
Here goes nothing. Rachel’s gun was in her hand, and she stood just outside the door. With a swift kick, the door snapped open sending splinters inward. The four men inside the room were already on their feet and reaching for their guns. Rachel unloaded two shots into the man closest to his gun and another into the one who was charging her. The remaining two men in the room reached their guns and began firing into the doorway where Rachel stood. (more…)
John sat at the table in the local cafe and enjoyed his coffee while reading the daily paper. A man in a tuxedo sat down at his table and placed his briefcase on the floor. He leaned back into the chair and opened his paper. John, bewildered, stared at him attempting to make eye contact before speaking. It never came. (more…)
“What brave man dare stand against me?”
The man in the arena was huge, and he had just ripped a guy in half. He walked around the inner circle of the arena scanning the crowd for a contender; none dared meet his fierce gaze. Enoch brushed off the bits of entrails that had fallen on him during the previous fight and poured a cup of water on his sweat-soaked head.
When the Champion rounded Enoch’s portion of the circle, Enoch broke the ceramic cup over his head and kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling backwards. Enoch jumped off of the arena wall and landed a few inches away from the Champion’s head after he rolled to avoid the killing blow. The Champion was on his feet now, staring at Enoch when blood began to trickle down his face.
Sweet! The kickoff to my daily writing series has arrived. I realize some of these will suck, but writing through the block is the best way to write better. Enjoy!
The baseball bat caved in his skull.
“That’ll do it,” Vincent said. “How many more do we have today, Jimmy?”
Tossing a handkerchief to Vincent, Jimmy rose from his chair and joined him in the center of the room, patting him on the back, “As many as it takes, Vince. As many as it takes.” (more…)
First I’m running through a golden field of wheat, nothing but mountains in the distance and the blue sky above. With my hands fully stretched out, I can feel the tips of each piece of wheat as it gently brushes against the palms of my hands. The grain begins to shrink below my hands, but I realize it’s not shrinking, I am growing. Then I realize I’m not growing, I am flying. (more…)