Normal Days #41

Hate Me

Why don't I wish for a life filled with love? Why there's a doubt in my mind? I always say love like erasing yourself but then why I hold back myself, some part of me from being broken? Why don't I throw caution in the wind and let go of all the inhibitions?

 

May be I need to take a peek into my soul or may be there's something which will always haunt me. some ghosts never leave you, you just make friends with 'em and live like a haunted house, trapped, believing one day there'd be a miracle but when that miracle comes you're too afraid to let go of that ghost coz you're thinking you might lose this sense of belonging too, this friendship with your ghosts. So you shut the light out and laugh at the stupidity of the notion of some miracle along with your ghosts but secretly wishing that door would open and someone will hug you so fiercely and let you cry, sobs and all and won't hit you or push you away when you'd be insecure and cling on to 'em like lifeline. But then you'd get a tap on your shoulder from one of your ghosts and you'd smile and go back like the things were.

 

At night before you fall asleep you dream of some face you'd long forgotten, some memory you can't take out in the light of the day and you cry, silently feeling so broken that you know you can fix yourself but you can't, and you hurt yourself more, you hurt ppl around you. When they leave you, you scream from inside but your ghosts are too loud and too busy making you laugh at that. The dust settles, there's no one but you, alone in this world, fighting, laughing with ppl you know and they don't have any idea what is there inside you.

 

Polish yourself and smile bright you douchebag, nobody loves you.

 

(To be Contd..)

White Swans: A Regency World by Annamaria Bazzi

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Kendíka’s second chance at life begins as a nightmare.

Will the eerie eyes always looking down from the sky reveal themselves?

Kendíka challenges the aliens no one has ever seen to bring about a better life for the humans trapped in the surreal Regency world she wakes up in. While getting to know her alien owner, she discovers the aliens aren’t so perfect and have much to learn about humans.

Will Kendíka survive or perish, attempting to make life better for the people living on Regency?





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Excerpt:

Startled by the lack of movement, Kendíka sat up in bed, scanning the shadows in the moonlit room. Perspiration beaded her forehead while her heart pounded against her ribs. The last thing she remembered was sitting in the limousine next to Mr. Vetrano, arguing about her future. He insisted the will mandated her future, not him. Did the pill knock her out? How dare he drug me!

She blinked and, holding her breath, glanced around the unfamiliar room. When her lungs screamed for air, she exhaled then took another deep inhale. What the hell? What happened to the limousine?

Butterflies unsettled her stomach. Her back stiffened. Her heart drummed. Oh, my God! When did I get out of the car or come to this room? Why would Mr. Vetrano bring me to such a freaky place? Fear and the thought of her parents’ death brought fresh tears to her eyes.

She slid out of bed and shuffled her bare feet along the stone floor, hands held out to make sure she didn’t bump into anything hidden by the shadows.

At the opposite end of the room, she could make out a dark blob, which she hoped might be the door. Somewhere along the wall near it, she would find a light switch. She advanced slowly, making sure not to stub her toes. Her fingertips ran along the smooth wood. The handle felt cold. She pulled on the knob, but it didn’t budge. Strange! Her heart missed a beat. Why is the door locked?

With all her strength, she pounded on the door. “Mr. Vetrano?” She paused. “Is anyone out there?” She beat her fists on it a few more times, but when no one came to investigate the commotion, she slid to the floor and buried her face in her hands. Think, girl, think. Standing again, she moved her hands along the smooth walls at the edge of the molding, feeling for a light switch. Why can’t I find it? She tried again…nothing but wall. Why is no one coming?


Fun Facts:

- One of the more challenging items I researched was how to address people. I had been under the impression that I could refer to a duke as ‘My Lord.’ Boy was I wrong! To do so is quite degrading. A duke is addressed as ‘Your Grace’, and he’s introduced as, for example, ‘Charles Emory, the Duke of Deverow.’ Yes, he is one of the leading characters in my book.

- What about the funny little hat maids wore that looked like a shower cap? Well, that’s called a mob hat, and no, it has nothing to do with mobsters and gangsters. It was an essential part of a maid’s uniform.

- Speaking of servants, I had to understand what a footman does versus a butler. A footman did a variety of indoor and outdoor jobs. Important to me were the indoor jobs. Learning that a footman laid out the table, served the meal and tea, and assisted the butler helped me determine what Wordsworth’s duties had to be in the book.

- During this research, I learned that the butler was responsible for household security and most important, the wine cellar. The butler didn’t wear a uniform, but he wore a black cravat instead of a white one so he would not be mistaken for a gentleman.

About the Author:

Although born in the United States, Annamaria Bazzi spent a great deal of her childhood in Sicily, Italy, in a town called Sciacca. Italian was the language spoken at home. Therefore, she had no problems when she found herself growing up in a strange country. Upon returning to the states, she promised herself she would speak without an accent. She attended Wayne State University in Detroit Michigan, where she obtained her Bachelor of Science in Computers with a minor in Spanish.

Annamaria spent twenty years programming systems for large corporations, creating innovative solution, and addressing customer problems. During those years, she raised four daughters and one husband. Annamaria lives in Richmond Virginia with her small family where she now dedicates a good part of her day writing.

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Antique Forgery (Alicia Trent #2) by Eileen Harris

This second book in the series takes the reader further into the life of Alicia Trent and her friends. Magic, forgery, betrayal, and fabulous jewels surround Alicia as she struggles to find the reason for her friend's death.








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Excerpt:

We were nearly halfway up the stairs when I heard Lawrence groan. I turned to see what had happened. He was deathly white, and while I watched, he sank down on the closest step. He was sweating heavily and clutching his stomach. He didn't seem coherent enough to answer any questions, so I ducked into my room and called for an ambulance. They only took about ten minutes to arrive, but it was horrible to wait. Lawrence was obviously in great pain, but couldn't tell me what was wrong.

The ride to the hospital took an eternity. They wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance, and I was so afraid of what would happen before he arrived. I was shaking and behind the wheel of a car was the last place I should have been, but as the ambulance tore through the streets with the siren blaring, I was right behind them.

I ran from the parking lot into the emergency room just in time to see them take Lawrence through a set of swinging doors where I couldn't follow. I slumped into a chair, and for the next two hours I sat in a waiting room with dull green walls and hard metal chairs. I never moved while I waited. My mind was busy begging Lawrence to hold on.

Since I was the only one waiting, when I saw an exhausted-looking man dressed in scrubs walk into the room, I took a deep breath and hurried to his side.

He said, “Are you the relative who brought Lawrence Hall in tonight?”

Afraid they wouldn't tell me anything if I confessed to not being a relative, I just nodded.

“Mr. Hall is a very sick man. He's been poisoned, and we think he must have eaten poisonous mushrooms. Our tests indicate they were probably green-spored lepiota.”

At this point I wanted to scream at him to just tell me his condition. He could explain the details after I knew how Lawrence was.

However, he wasn't finished explaining. “This particular mushroom doesn't normally cause death, but among its other symptoms it can dangerously lower blood pressure. Mr. Hall must be on some type of medication that has the same effect, or at least exacerbated the effect of the mushroom, because we nearly lost him. It's a good thing you got him here when you did. We have him stabilized now, and he should make a full recovery.”

I barely heard anything the man said except the last statement. Lawrence was going to be all right! My knees weakened with relief and I sank into the nearest chair.

He continued, “He's awake, and we need to monitor him closely for a while. We want to keep him tonight and tomorrow for observation, but he can probably go home after that. If you want to see him, you can visit for a short time, but first, can you tell me what type of medication he's taking? He was still pretty confused when I talked to him and wasn't able to tell me.”

“I don't know the exact medication. Lawrence is bi-polar, so it has to be something for that. I'll see if I can find out the name for you.”

I got the room number and was practically running in my need to see for myself that he was alive and recovering. I burst into the room, nearly knocking over a nurse on her way out. She cautioned me the patient needed rest and, with a frown in my direction, left the room. I pulled a chair up next to the bed and took Lawrence's hand. “You look so much better already. You have some color back.”

He said, “You look terrible. You can relax. I'm going to be fine. I was a little worried in the beginning because the confusion felt the way some of my episodes used to begin. The confusion is gone now, and I really am fine. It's left me very tired, but they don't want me to sleep yet. Tell me exactly what happened. I'm sure the gory details will help keep me awake. The last thing I remember is starting up the stairs, and then brief moments in the ambulance.”

I wanted to answer in the same matter-of-fact way he'd asked the question. I tried, but before I could begin, tears were running down my face and I couldn't find my voice. I didn't sob or howl. Strangely, I didn't make any noise at all. I just stared at Lawrence, horrified because he might have died trying to help me. All the while the silent tears kept coming.

He said, “Ali, we can't have this. I've seen you go through some horrible times, but I've never seen you cry. There's no need for you to be so upset. I promise you I will be out of here tomorrow, and all will be well. Even the doctor says so.”

I gulped a few times trying to find my voice. It didn't sound good, but I managed to say, “I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. When you get out of here, you're going right back to Scottsdale! I should never have involved you in any of this.”

“Whoa there, girl! In the first place, I'm a grown man and you can't involve me in anything I don't choose to be involved in. In the second place, you and your crazy mixed-up life are the main thing keeping me from getting old and bored. Bad things happen sometimes, but none of this is your fault. Now dry those tears and tell me how I got here.”

I hiccuped a few times but got myself under control. “Okay, I'm not trying to take the blame for what happened, but I was so scared. It seems you were poisoned. I wasn't in much shape to listen to the doctor, but it was some kind of mushroom. There were mushrooms in the food we ate at supper, but we both ate those. Someone targeted you specifically. At the moment, I have no idea why they did it, but I don't think whoever did this was trying to kill you. The doctor said the symptoms were severe but not normally fatal. The problem seemed to be a reaction between the poison and your medication. Whoever did this couldn't have known that you take anything, or at least not that your medicine would react with the mushrooms. The doctor asked me to find out the name of your prescription.”

“I vaguely remember him asking me, but I was pretty confused then and couldn't remember. It's Geodon. They tried dozens before, but nothing worked until this came along. I'm one of the lucky ones, because it not only keeps the problem in check, but I don't suffer from any severe side effects. This reaction with poison mushrooms is something I certainly never expected. I should have told you ages ago in case of a relapse or some bizarre circumstances like these.”

“I'll let the doctor know the name of the medicine. I don't know if your medication lowers your blood pressure, but it dropped dangerously low. That's what had the doctors worried.”

“I don't know either, but the doctors will figure it out. I understand I have to be in here until tomorrow evening, even though I tried to talk them into letting me go sooner. You need to promise me you won't do anything the least bit dangerous until I get back. One day isn't going to make any difference. Whoever did this may have planned it to separate us for some reason. So promise me you'll be careful and not spend time alone.”

The frowning nurse came back and warned me I needed to leave. Visiting hours were over and the patient needed rest.

I said, “Don't worry about me. I promise I will take every precaution until you're out of here. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon and will drive you to the house when they release you. Just get well!”

Outside the room, Detective Wilton was waiting for me.


About the Author:

From living off the grid in the Arizona desert, Eileen has moved to the woods of upstate New York. She has authored a standalone adventure novel called Desert Shadow. She is also the author of Alicia Trent Series. The Black Cane : Dowager Diaries Book 1 is her latest release.








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How to create a successful arc for your character by Johanna K. Pitcairn

About the Author

Johanna K. Pitcairn has dreamed of becoming a writer since childhood--authoring her first novel at the age of nine, and countless poems, stories, and screenplays by the age of seventeen. Later, rather than pursuing a career as a director and screenwriter, she decided to go to law school, driven by her father's opinion that "writing does not pay the bills."

Ten years later, she moved to New York City, which inspired her to go back to the excitement, wonder, and constant change of being a writer. Pitcairn is a huge fan of psychological-thriller novels and movies, and delves into her hopes, fears, friends, enemies, and everything in between in her own writing.

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How to create a successful arc for your character 

First and foremost, thanks for the opportunity to be featured on your blog. Every indie author needs all the support they can get, and I’m very grateful for all the support I’ve received and am receiving.

Every character has to be as realistic as possible to be believable. The psychology of a character plays a really huge role in the plot and the overall quality of the story. Many timeless tales have shed light on a character’s evolution throughout a perilous journey by diving into the character’s mind. His/her internal conflict, coupled with the external conflict, gives depth to the plot, and more room to play to create a beautiful arc.

The arc is your beginning and ending point. Each character has its own arc. The story itself has an arc too. The arc can be huge, if your protagonist is the main player, or it can be very small for secondary and tertiary characters. The size of the arc doesn’t matter. The arc will act as a measuring stick for the character’s evolution throughout the story.

Let’s take an example: Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. There are many characters in this book with many arcs. Let’s focus on two of them, Javert and Jean Valjean.

Beginning of the arc for Jean Valjean. A good man, trying to do the next right thing by stealing bread for his sister’s children during a time of economic depression, Valjean is sentenced to spend years in prison. He becomes this despicable character in the eyes of society. The world sees him as a bad person, unworthy of trust and love. Picture his arc growing from the ground up.

Javert is depicted as the ultra-self-righteous police officer who doesn’t believe in forgiveness, and redemption. His arc actually starts high and gradually goes down.

Valjean will mature, and evolve, to become this man everyone loves and respects, even when he tells the truth about his past acts and demands to be brought to justice.

Javert will turn into a bitter individual, bloodthirsty for revenge, becoming the super villain everyone will hate. Javert will realize that his sense of justice was wrong, and Valjean, despite being a criminal, was a better man than him all along. He ends up taking his own life because he cannot accept that truth.

Valjean and Javert represent the sides of the same coin, and their arcs certainly bear similarities. But as Valjean’s arc goes toward good/order, Javert’s arc goes toward bad/chaos, his sense of justice morphing into abuse of power and personal vendetta.

Readers will root for Valjean. Who doesn’t want the underdog to win? Javert could have earned some stripes if Hugo had decided to shift his arc upward toward good again. But he didn’t do that.
A well-executed arc will manage to draw the readers in and keep them glued to the pages like it’s crack-cocaine (it’s actually an expression I heard from fellow authors when talking about books they devoured in one sitting).

The arc offers thousands of possibilities, shapes and directions. There can be a million plot twists, which will shape the arc with multiple peaks and valleys. The arc can never be a straight line (because a straight line doesn’t show evolution). Ultimately, the arc will reach its high or bottom. However you want the character to evolve, a powerful arc will resonate with readers and make them addicted to the story and the character. Bear in mind that a character can evolve while not radically changing his/her point of view. The storytelling will guide the character to cross-roads (climax of the plot): change or remain the same but there must always be evolution.

About the Book

To the average onlooker, the city of Los Angeles represents glitz, glamour, and the celebrity lifestyle. But to seventeen-year-old Julie Jones, the city is a vast host of problems she’s longing to get away from. The latest? An unfortunate disagreement with her ex-boyfriend Mark—one that could land her in some serious hot water.
So rather than face the troubles that torment her, Julie decides to run away from her old life and start fresh somewhere new. But her parents aren’t on board with the plan, and she soon finds her bank accounts frozen and her wallet empty.
With just seventy-five dollars and a full tank of gas, the troubled teen is far too stubborn to turn around and head home. So what’s a girl to do?
What Julie doesn’t know is that her travels are about to take her somewhere unexpected—a place where she’ll be forced to come face to face with the ghosts of her past in order to secure her future.
A tale of redemption, hope, and freedom lost and found, 32 Seconds is a thought-provoking exploration into the human spirit and the nature of forgiveness.

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