So my plate is full today and my blog will be short. I leave you, my devoted followers with another of the music video’s that helped inspire my book. I hope it helps you get through the Manic Monday Blues! I will be back with my not so packed mommy schedule to leave you a blog post you can’t resist. Thanks for following and enjoy!
So what inspires you to write? I find I love music as much as I love writing, so I blend them. I find from time to time i have to stop and belt out a few lines of the songs from time to time and it helps me keep a clearer mind and fresh eyes. I always make sure that going into one of the important events in the story I belt out a few lines of my favorite inspirational songs. I even keep a play list for everything I write. I often wonder if anyone has ever given a recommended listening list with their work before? And would it help the reader be pulled in more feeling the emotion of the music like it does for me, or if it would be too distracting. I am all for reading but I need a little background noise too of I feel like I'm dead. However when you have kids that is only because silence means they are getting in trouble. So here is a video of one of many songs that inspire me to write my loving heart out!
All Hallows Eve aka Halloween is once again upon us. It's the time of year when all things that go bump in the night are free to walk the earth...to mingle among us humans...ain't it cool!
And while my writing style is deeply woven in all things creepy, unsettling, and yes, sometimes disturbing, it sparks my creativity. It's what horror writers do best. Ah, Halloween...the time quickly approaches when both sinister and harmless creatures of the night settle in to wreak havoc and mayhem upon their mostly unsuspecting recipients, delivering huge doses of unnerving fright and horror.
Those of you who have already previewed my soon-to-be-released debut novel, Red Hunger, know that fairy tales are not exclusively for children. We adults also enjoy a good dose of tricks or treats. Why? Because scary can be loads of fun! With just the right mix of legend, magic, good, and evil, even the most righteous skeptics can be made to believe. So I say, this Halloween, cast aside your disbelief and enjoy all that the season of the macabre has to offer. Don't be afraid when your skin starts to crawl, your heartbeat quickens, and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. Afterwards, when you find it hard to fall asleep, embrace your fears, face them head on, and don't be afraid to take the time to walk on the dark side with my deliciously wicked fictional offering at https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1131820 Happy Reading!
I think back to the day I sat down in front of my computer and started penning my first soon-to-be released novel, Red Hunger.Little did I know, it would take three long years of dedication to flesh out my vision from start to finish. The concept, the situations, the characters...MY CHARACTERS...it was like dreaming in a conscious state...before work, during work, after work--everyday. Who are they? Who would they become? Where did they come from? Where do they live? How do they work? How do they play? What do they feel? What motivates them? How will they fall? How will they rise? What is their pain, their frailties, their flaws? And most importantly, how would I paint their picture to the world, to present a finished canvas, to tell their story in such a way as to strike a resounding chord within my readers and force them to connect with my creation...my characters, for they cannot be discounted.
The light bulb turned on, the red flag flew, when I realized that like conception, the birth of my characters began within me. I had to be them... to feel what they felt, to see through their eyes, to hear and react to what they heard, to smell what they smelled, and to taste what they were tasting. In order to bring my characters to life, I had to become them--for me, there was no other way. I wanted to experience esoterically what I had created. I owe that to my characters--my creations, and I definitely owe that to my audience. It's what's expected, and it's my job as a writer to deliver!
So, when you sit down to press pen to paper, don't ever forget the importance of what you are about to embark upon. Your creation, your characters, should be as real as life itself! They should make you laugh and make you cry, fill you with anger, frustration, and joy. They should thrill you, disappoint you, and in the end, make you proud, as proud as a parent when you first behold the beauty, the pure majesty, of that which you have created...your characters. Now, breathe...and take a few moments to check out the preview of my first born at https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1131820 Enjoy!
I always used to wonder why people said artists were destined to suffer for their art. Never truly knowing what they meant, three years ago, I started penning my first manuscript, Red Hunger. Because I am a life-long lover of supernatural books and movies, I first toyed with the idea of making my debut novel a paranormal romance, but I quickly learned that my true talent laid within horror fiction, so it didn't take me long to return to my own style of writing, darkly rooted within that genre.
After enduring a devastating computer crash, which sent my first completed draft into oblivion, I picked up the shattered pieces of my emotions and carried on. But fear not, for that hard-learned lesson (failure to back up my file) led me to creating a much crisper, professional version of my story. It was then that I realized the important concept of the struggling artist: At some point, we all must suffer for our art because its birth is never without pain in some shape or form. It just comes with the territory.
Life is funny like that. All valuable things come with a price, and the sacrifices you make--time, money, and emotion, are the key ingredients in honing your talents to produce the best product possible.
So on those lonely days and nights when it may seem that your diligent efforts are all in vain, please remember, nothing worth reading is ever created without pain. But if you ask me, it's all worth it in our pursuit of the elusive dream of becoming successfully published authors. And that, my fellow writers, makes the bitter journey all the more sweeter! Don't forget to check out the preview of Red Hunger at https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1131820 and leave me some honest feedback.
Since the time I was a little girl, I've always been fascinated by those things that go bump in the night, the things that give you goose bumps and make the hairs on back of your neck stand up. Staying up late to read books, watch TV shows and movies that created many sleepless nights for me were the very things that led me to writing horror.
Fast forward to the present...my passion for adult horror, in particular the supernatural genre, allows my creative juices to flow freely as I explore the dark recesses of the human psyche. You see, for the most part, the things that scare us are often projections of our own imaginations. They are reflections, if you will, of our internal struggles, our conflicting emotions that we try so hard to keep hidden deep within ourselves. But all it takes is an engrossing tale of fright to bring those fears bubbling to the surface.
As with any genre, good writing is key to capturing an audience of readers and engaging them throughout your journey. Always be conscious of your audience, for they come to you with the hopes of being entertained, and it is our job as writers to deliver! There are a lot of us who enjoy the thrill of a good scary tale. So remember, as we head into October, the season of all things creepy, keep your eyes and ears open for the upcoming release of my debut novel, Red Hunger. Get a sneak peek at https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1131820 and rate my preview. I'd love to know what you think. Happy Reading!
I simply love incorporating diversity into my writing. The stories I create seem much more flavorful when the characters I conjure cross the usual or expected boundaries of logic and establish an identity of their own. Take the Dhampir for example, otherwise known as a half-breed. Children brought forth by human/vampire union, this legend got its start in the old folklore of the Balkans.
Ah, such a lovely mix...they possess all of the strengths but none of the weaknesses associated with their bloodsucking parent.
Back then, it was thought that male vampires possessed a strong desire for human women. News flash, they did and still do! Through that unyielding desire, the legend of the Dhampir was born. Initially, these creatures were believed to be imperfect, with bodies housing no bones and short life expectancies, but over time, their undeniable attributes gave birth to a more favorable, downright gorgeous appearance. After all, why should Dhampirs be viewed as abominations when their abilities are so apparent?
I chose to make this amazing creation the focus of my soon-to-be-released debut novel, Red Hunger, to illustrate the power of diversity. Isn't variety the spice of life? The ability to experience mostly all that is human while maintaining the virtually invincible nature of the vampire does have its advantages. Ok, who am I to say. You be the judge. Check out my sneak preview at https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1131820 Don't worry, you don't have to download, and please leave your thoughts in constructive feedback. Happy Reading!
This is most convenient way of testing the product and getting the users views and this options helps you in improving your work and updating it in due course of time as and when new readers comment reaches you and you get notice of the minor or major loopholes. The Amazon has really provided millions of young and dynamic writers a voice and space to share his ideas. Earlier authors had to wait for a long to get the approval of the traditional publishing houses which usually takes many months to reply and couple of years to publish if you don't have enough money to invest and get timely attention of the publishers. I have been self-publishing my creative works for last few years and making handsome money from the royalties from Amazon. This gives me moral boost to keep up creative writing a continuous process. This has added new dimensions to my creative personality. There are many other publishing houses which are giving such opportunities but the platform that Amazon has created is unparalleled in the publishing market.
The time bound production of the print and eBook on the readers demand who keep on visiting my website http://www.sureshotpost.com for updates on my views and suggestions on diverse topics which I cover. The flavour of writing and creativity can be cherished and nourished through the constant endeavour and sustained practice in the print and electronic media sector.
CreateSpace is a platform which is most valuable for reaching in the vast ocean of the Amazon. This is a channel created for the young and dynamic writers who wish to give the world a new flour in time bound manner. The speedier resolution of the publishing intricacies is the benchmark of the CreateSpace. CreateSpace has been very helpful in bringing out my creative writing outputs in a professionally designed books which can reach a much wider audience which my website might not be able to do for me.
I am self published after having bad experiencies with vanity publishers. I have not yet got into the grasp of promoting my work as yet. I have all my books on kindle and amazon, and slowly finding a way to get my work noticed.
I wrote my first book as I had been through so much truma due to so many situations in my life, and managed to find my way out.
I then decided to write a book to help or inspire others. But the first company I went with took all my savings. I then had to learn all the process myself.
And so I am now self published. I have since done three other books, and I will have a new fiction coming out in September 2013. I can't wait, as I am slowly learning how to promote a little, but I think it will take a bit more time to grasp the promoting. I wont give up on my writing as I feel fulfilled when i'm writing. I cater for children, teenager's, and adults. My name is Tara Mooney and if you have any comment's about self publishing and or publishing houses, please leave any comments. Thank you.
As of today I'm coming close to finishing the first Twisted Tales of the Macabre story. The Twisted Tales of the Macabre stories will be a series of short dark comedy cyperpunk stories and each one will be loosly connected to each other. Very much inspired by the horror anthology genre. I'm not sure how meny I would write however I might do 13 of them. since 13 is my personal favorite number. The release date for the first story will be somewhere within October and then each following story after that could be maybe released every 1 or 2 months after that, I do not know we shall see.
Outside of that I would like to get more involved with the community here so if anyone has any questions or just want to just want to talk about stuff that's all fine.
He didn?t mean to do it . . . Yet the shock in his victim?s eyes told David Hockey differently.
?Oh my god . . .? He whispered. And then tickling the sides of his face were the quickly morphing tears of coming madness.
?Ma??The sound of his non-emotional voice is what sickened him, not the ****-wretched smell of his mother. However he felt himself changing; he didn?t know it, but he felt evil personified. ?Mommy!? He said, trying to get more emotion into it, but all the word ?mommy? did was evaporate into the air, and hang there just before the whisper from David?s lips said: ?I killed my mother,? made the word disappear completely.
David walked over to his dear mommy, staring at the freshly sharpened steak knife sticking out of his mother?s throat. Blood tried to leak freely from where the wound would be if the knife were to be removed. Blood had navigated it's way down to her white blouse, seeping through and revealing her black sports bra, which to David now looked purple.
Dave just stood there, shadow over his mother?s body. He stared at the knife and then at her eyes, and that?s when he closed his own in terror. They stung. He closed his mother?s dead, terrified, and shocked eyes. They still seemed to have soul. God had not taken her spirit; not without getting David getting to feel at least some guilt.
Though David?s tears felt hot, along with this pounding remorse was the feel of a great and powerful?dark?high.
I killed my mother, David thought, enchanted by the words dancing through his mind. ?I killed Mommy,? he said aloud. ?And I?m only ten.?
Click.The sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then noises of people. His sister saying something, and what? Her boyfriend too? Yeah, it was Greg?laughing at something she was saying to him; probably a corny half-assed joke?Beth wasn?t that funny, at least Dave didn?t think so; she was annoying.
At first Dave froze in fear, but then a crazy idea occurred to him. Killing his mother, though horrible, gave him the thrill of his life.
Wonderful wasn?t it? His own voice, yet somehow darker, seemed to speak to him from the front of his mind. Dave?s eyes then filled with insanity; he could hear the shallowness of his breath, the rapid beating of his heart.
?Mom?? Beth called, as Dave heard her heading toward the kitchen.
?She?s in here sissy.? Dave said, surprised by the steadiness in his voice. Dave then ran over to his mother, and quickly grabbed the knife out from the inside of her throat. Blood sprayed upward a little, like a quick leak from a fire hydrant.
?Oh my god, Mom!? Beth screamed as her own tears started to flow. And as she started to run toward the corpse of her murdered mother, she didn?t seem to notice that David still had a blood drenched knife held tightly in his right hand. Dave didn?t let her either, because with it he charged at Beth?s boyfriend, and killed him?thrusting the freshly blood-painted knife into Gregory?s abdomen.
Greg seemed to gulp the air, as little David took the knife out of his stomach. Darnit, David reflected, as Greg?s blood seemed to spill a little on David?s shirt. Greg fell to his knees and stared in disbelief at David?s wild enraged eyes; for a moment Greg thought he saw full black in his gaze instead of that adorable little brown.
?David!? Beth cried, and when her darling little brother turned around, she did not see him. She saw the spawn of Satan.
Smiling, Dave started laughing his full head off and ran toward his sister.
Beth booked it, and Dave pounced but missed, by just a few hairs.
Suddenly whatever insanity had overwhelmed Dave completed its possession. Windows then locked on their own, so did the doors. Everything sweet about David Hockey was also locked.
?All because I had top go in the corner!? David yelled. His voice was not just the cute high-pitched voice of a child, but deep and gurgling like that of a monster. It seemed a sinister, baleful creature was speaking behind him as David spoke.
?Beaaaaathhhhhhyyyyy?? David said in his most playful tone, which would make just about anyone shudder. David laughed, ?Aw, you?re such a good sissy, you never play hide ?n seek wit me.?
Dave was walking toward the door. Slow. Smiling wide enough to make his jaws creak.
It took a while?he was having fun. However soon, David stopped, his arms swung loosely in front of him, as if they were broken. He cocked his head like a dog; you could hear his neck crack as he did so.
?Found you.? David whispered and ran with arms swaying from side to side. He then ran, laughing toward the brown leather easy chair, and that?s when the door banged open.
?Freeze!? A young policeman said. Behind him was a slightly older one. Both looked shocked, but David knew that she had called them. David stopped all right, murmured something in what sounded like Latin, and then just dropped.
The younger cop ran toward the boy and to his surprise yet sickened relief that was held inside his stomach . . . ?He?s dead.?
In Autopsy, Dr. Stanley was stumped with this boy. Not only had he died of a heart failure and had virtually no physical problems, but also from the questions the authorities asked Elizabeth Hockey regarding if her baby brother showed any signs of being?well psychotic, she actually made the kid sound like a little ******* angel.
The police had also found a ouji board in David Hocky's room, and though one officer found this to be suspicious, it was immediately dismissed.
Suddenly Stanley heard the automatic door swish open, but saw no one coming through. The air felt suddenly chilled as the doctor realized the door just opened on it?s own.
Strange, Dr. Stanley reflected as he felt a jolt of adrenaline and anger coursed through him. He went back to the body and picked up one of his instruments: a large blade. Suddenly the deceased David Hockey opened his eyes, blackness started to rise out of the boy?s pours, and then for a split second . . . and the doctor's eyes turned black with insanity.
While I was attending Sheppard Hill Elementary school I had to hide my passion for writing. Whenever we had to write in our journal I'd leap with joy inside, but acted frustrated and annoyed becauseliking writing wasn't normal. It wasn't until one hot day at recess that my two friends I normally play with were in time out, and I had nothing to do . . . except write a story of course.
"May I have a notebook?" I asked a teacher, after my failure to find someone to play with.
"Yep. Just a minute okay, bud?"
The teacher got me a notebook and I wrote in it. I composed a story about a waffle named Billy who missed the bus one morning. Billy lived in a town called Syrup City, and as he is forced to walk the starchy sidewalks, he sees (inside a dark alley) a pancake named Petunia getting beat up by a gang called the French Toast Sticks. Billy puts on a cape, becomes Super-Waffle and saves the pancake.
This was my first story, and when I showed it to my teacher she said the content was like someone in a eleventh-grade level. Nothing anyone has said since, has made me feel any happier. So from there, my one and only dream has been to become a writer.
AND NOW that dream is coming true. I wrote that waffle story when I was nine; I'm twenty now. I've read countless books over the years on writing (some of them should have never been published)andon editing your own work. Therefore I'm not just a writer, I'm my own self-editor. For years I have fought with joining CreateSpace because I had no clue if I was good enough to be writer, no matter how enticing the wholefreepublishing experience may be . . . But I did work hard, reading a lot and writing a lot until I had enough confidence in myself to become a writer (getting a short story published in my school's literary magazine--Hybrid--helped as well).
Now I have countless short stories (first collection soon to be published September 1, 2013) that I want to share, and hope to get some feedback in reviews for some of them.