Poetry 6.1

Surrounded on all fronts
Everything requires energy,
Can’t focus,
Sit down, the brain stops functioning
Just one day of peace
Just one day

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Writing thoughts.

I have read many posts about writers tips. Professional writers advice that could be in themselves books long. Most of them say the same thing. Keep a writers journal. Make sure you think about this, and think about that. Or if you have writers block step away from the project and come back to it later? Never delete your previous copies. All that sort of thing.

I’m not going to write any tips I think could work.

Instead, I am thinking about what I come across when I am writing. Some of you may find these things happen to you, if this is helpful then great. If not, then I’m sorry I’m not a writing guru. I wouldn’t even say I’m that good. I just enjoy doing it.

My writing when I start is never really planned. I normal begin with a concept in my head. An image that I think about in my head. Normally that image may not have a beginning, or may not have an end. There may even not be a middle. But I normally start with an idea that can just spark.

But this idea normally leaves me with an ache. I crave to start it like a bad craving for a chocolate bar. It doesn’t leave me lying awake at night however, and no it doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night either. But I find myself impatient throughout the day.

All I wanted to do is write this piece. Even if I look at my other projects that are unfinished I just want to start this one idea. Even if it is just a first sentence. Once that first sentence is down the ache in me dies. The idea is still exciting but the urge to write it is not so urgent.

Of course, sometimes self-discipline means that focus should remain on one single project until they are finished. However, once that ache sets in I can’t focus myself on other projects. The right words just don’t come out, and the words that do are clunky. Unnatural.

Once I have started that project, I can put that on hold until I finish the other projects. So, this isn’t how people would recommend writing but it works out alright for me.

This is something that I find when I start a project. If anyone else does I’d be intrigued to find out what any of you think.

Xperia 7.3

Like two carefree teens they snuck back inside from the balcony. Both their lips swollen from the long spells of kissing. They didn’t speak a word to each other. They didn’t have to.
They crept through the corridors, Arellia slipping out of her shoes and padding around barefoot. They had managed to avoid detection all the way up to her main chamber. Which had her fighting a giggle as she locked the door.
Giddiness overwhelmed them. Cheeks aching from smiles that had spread so wide and were automatic when they imagined what would happen next.
Alasdair sat patiently on the edge of her bed. He had removed his extras – sword, belts, boots, and any other layers – a white loose shirt hung from his squared shoulders, untucked at his waist band.
Arellia could see him admiring her while she was still at the door. She thought about the dress she was wearing. It was beautiful. And looked beautiful on her… Would he rip it? Or could she be unabashed enough to strip gradually as she slowly moved towards him? Her thoughts then panicked to the image of her body and she hesitated. He was so handsome…
“Don’t do that”, his voice was low, rough even. But the words were not harsh. She didn’t feel scolded – just obvious. He got up from his place and without a moments thought he approached, wrapped her arms around his neck, then scooped her up. He wrapped each leg around each side of his waist. His hands moving to cup her arse. He carried her to the bed.

Xperia 7.2

A week after the hospital, Arellia watched Alisdair leave the hospital and not come back. In that week she had commissioned Jeremy to raise an army, and builders to re-enforce the wall.
The threat they had thought was gone, was thriving beyond the borders. She couldn’t risk not being prepared if the crevice closed. Or… If they could fly. She stepped out onto one of the balconies of her home and looked out at the sky.
“Please, do not have creatures that can fly…”.
The glass doors opened behind her and Alisdair walked in. He closed the doors behind him then turned to her.
With a deep breath he stomped his way towards her. She opened her mouth to speak. What did he want? She didn’t have to wonder long. He lifted his hands, cupped her face, and crushed his lips to hers.
The force of his approached pushed their bodies into the balcony railing. Arellia felt her whole world spin. Heat surged through her body until everything seemed to tingle.
He pulled away from her and every cell in her being craved for him to return. Her hands travelled up between his elbows, snatched at his clothes around his chest and pulled him into her.
Their hungry kiss synced, they found each others’ balance, their arms wrapped around one another until they were as close as they could physically get.
They finally paused. Their breathing laboured. Their eyes locked. Arellia watched him scrunch his eyes closed. He pressed his forehead against hers and with a deep breath.
“I love you”, his words stopped her breath. He bit his lip then looked into her eyes like he was frightened. Before she could catch her breath he added. “You were never just a job, she was just a friend”.
“I love you too”, her voice was breathy and it made him smile. The doors behind him rattled. Then someone knocked.
“Your highness, Jeremy is here to see you”, it was Cora.
“He can wait”, she called over Alasdair’s shoulder. He laughed and they kissed again. Enjoying the moment.

Poetry 5.9

Reading a book on spoilt rich
Going outside spoilt poor
Entitlement is a dangerous attribute
Nothing is earned only given
Modern day parents forget
It shouldn’t be what you give them
Or how much you give them
Real success – are they a good person?
Blame the computers
Blame the TV
Blame everything else
Because you can’t face the real failings
Parents you are the most important
You are the main contributors
To influence
To discipline
To affection

Book Thoughts – Subtle

I finished reading a book called ‘The Secret Wife’ by Gill Paul a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t want to write anything about it right away because I wasn’t sure what I thought in the end.

At first I was intrigued.

This story was about the Romanov family, before and after the tragic brutal murders, and the sparking romance between Tatiana and Malama. As well as running parallel with a modern narrative about a woman called Kitty that fled from a cheating husband.

A reader that has no idea on the Russian history I was interested in this story. I mean the only knowledge I have on the Romanov family was picked up roughly from the Anastasia cartoon film. Even I know that that isn’t real. So, it can be assumed I know absolutely nothing.

Well obviously this book is not a history book. It’s a piece of fiction so please don’t take this story as gospel as to what actually happened to the Russian Royal Family. However, according to the writer in her acknowledgements she did research before writing this story. So, I’d imagine some details could be true.

Returning to my original point, I went into this interested, I like the idea of a sparking romance and a secret relation in someway to Romanov bloodline in a story. This theory, on the other hand, did not happen. This story surprised me in the outcome but maybe not in an all positive manner.

The writing itself was impeccable. There wasn’t a moment that lost me. I knew exactly what was happening every word in. Very descriptive, emotional, and dramatic. There were scenes of war, gruesome deaths, and passionate love.

I have one word to describe this book and I can say you probably won’t guess unless you have read it and agree with me.

SUBTLE.

Everything is and was subtle in this story. From the first page to the last final moment. The author was subtle. Subtle foreshadowing. Or Subtle hints as to what is going on. Awful things happen and yet no real satisfactory result came from it. Scenes that should have been exciting and emotionally impactful were left feeling prolonged and overstretched.

In a typical story outline the middle would dip into a low dark place. Sort of like a line on a graph. Then that line will plateau for maybe a couple of chapters then will suddenly spike up towards the end. This book didn’t feel like it did that. Once rock bottom was hit, rock bottom was all that was left. Things just felt worse, and worse the more it carried on. Like it should have ended a lot sooner. I understand that the character was suffering from PTSD and depression. But even the second main character’s story was nothing but subtle. But the time I hit the middle of the book, I just wanted it to end. I couldn’t just leave it. And this wasn’t a bad read by any stretch. But just not for me.

I will say that this book did come with a huge moral to the story kind of message. Communication is key in any kind of relationship. Family, friends, or partners. That message was perfectly clear at the end.

Overall, the book was a good read, but not something I would have chosen for myself.