Category Archives: writing

Why my current WIP is not Christian Fiction?


I am a Christian and I don’t label my current WIP as Christian . Here is why..

My story, currently titled Fallen World is not Christian Fiction but does mention God, adoption, and salvation but I do plan on publishing this book traditional and I know for sure the publishers will not label my story as Christian.

There is nothing bad in the story. There really isn’t any romance. I don’t swear/cuss in the story. Its really the graphic side of it and the deep themes I go into.

There are several scene where I go into detail about things most people don’t want to talk about. I mention the inside of an abortion clinic, small summary of what the abortion process is, a go into detail of a house that once was used for sex trafficking, the problems against it, a speech of ex. sex assault victim, and the criminals for sex assault.

I mention the LGBT community but the darker side of it all.

The plot of the story is basically if we reversed certain laws back to illegal but would happen. A rebellion against the people against the government aka America rebelling against the Truth.

There is violence along with the graphic detail. There are gun shootings and others things I haven’t plot out or brainstormed yet. Its a bit the adult fiction side of things. Unless you like violent books.

Would you consider this Christian? Because I honestly don’t. Let me know in the comments below.

Last night, I hit 100 followers on this blog and to celebrate I am going share a snippet of my story… Enjoy!!

Metal cages were shook and we slide away from each other. Slipping as we raced toward each other but failing miserably. Thud! My head pained me as I touch my forehead. Blood drips from my head and I notice everyone was caught by a net and somehow I missed the mark. 

“Attention.” Heaving stomping and a woman speaks and my head spins as blood splashed everywhere. 

That woman is not from around here. Her pale skin. Brunette hair. What is she wearing? A suit. I thought men wear them. 

“It has come to my attention, aliens.”

I pointed a finger at her and walked over to her as my friends stared at me. “Aliens, the aliens? You might think you so high and mighty but no you are a stranger here. You invade our land for some reason, I have no idea. You cage us for fun. Are you planning on trafficking us next? Please hun, I am bleeding to death.”

Click. Click. She walked toward me with those devilous pointed heels. “Excuse me, and who are you?”

I reached my hand toward her but pulled away back in place as she stared me down. “Well, not friendly then. Estella and who might you be?”

“Officer Dipper.”

I laughed and knew it was a fatal mistake. Bang! I looked behind me as one of my friends fell. Something fell across the room and hit her in the gills. Water spilled out as she fell forward and then the rush of green blood came next. Panicking as no one moved. My eyes looked up as Kaius’ mouth was open and he stood in shock. I scrambled over and pressed my fingers into her wound. My reflexes jointed as I could feel a vomit coming but pushed it down. Naida was more important. A cold took over me as I watch her blood and water freeze. I looked up as Officer Dipper raised eyebrow. “Kaius help me, you idiot.”

His head shook as I rolled my eyes. Pushing through the crowd, I watched him take Naida from me. “Estella, what are you planning? There is no way out.”

“Oh, darling. You know nothing.”

Dipper crossed her arms. “And what do you plan on doing, alien?”

“My name is Estella, stupid.” My eyes widened as the bleed that once dripping from my forehead disappeared and the thing replaced it was a frozen icicles. Shattered as red icicles fell from my head. “That’s new.”

Officer Dipper snapped her fingers as people of some sort came in. They wore rubber spandex suits. Astronauts, a thing of myths. “Kill her.”

Thanks so much for reading!!!

Under the Grave: A Poem

Welcome back, owlnerds! I am currently open to blog post ideas.

Here is a poem, I wrote a few weeks enjoy!

I laid there silent and cold

As the world continued on

Under the surface of where people walk

Talked and embraced

Clueless of what will happen next 

After the service where people throw dirt

Upon the new bed, I now lay on

I am dead as a doorknob

I can’t think of the memories

I once had.

Or the sweet and soft touch of my beloved.

Will I go to heaven or hell?

Before we die, we look at two options

Chained and tortured in hell forever

Or fellowshipping with Jesus and deceased loved ones.  

I for one do not skip a heartbeat 

I know I will go to heaven

I believe Him as the One True God

His Son came down to earth

He chose me with the filth

 And wickedness, I carry.

Lord willing, He will open the gates of heaven 

And greet me with open arms

And now you are questioning 

If I know if I will see my loved ones in heaven

And no, I don’t. 

But I trust Him. 

There comes a time

Where we will die or 

We find out that someone close died

Its a sad time but we should rejoice

 That we will meet again in heaven.

Death, a thing which is unnatural in our way of life

A thing we shouldn’t take lightly

Created by our ancestors

The founding father of man, Adam

 And ourselves for we are from him.

We were tempted by the serpent 

To disobey God 

For we believed that we would become a

Godlike such like

 Our Father who made

But it was lies.

Now we are dead. 

Under the ground

Cold and alone

 Preparing for our judgment

The time is drawing near

And whether  or not

We will be under grave

Is a question

That will be soon answered.

Final Part of Fiona’s Hero

Welcome back, owlnerds. Here is the final part of Fiona’s Hero

The Synopsis:

Fiona’s world begins to fall apart. After a recent gun shooting, her biggest supporter is gone. Now she is struggling to keep the faith, keep her grades up, and stay out of trouble. Will Fiona keep the faith in one of the darkest times of her life? Or will she blame God for losing her father



Read Part One

Read Part Two

Read Part Three

Read Part Four

Want to be a dear and help me a lot? Comment down what you would rate this story and tell me how you like. Thanks. Enjoy!!

The Run:

My ears rang as I could hear the gunshots. Running out on the streets as cars honked their horns as I ran across Mainstreet. A caution tape wrapped around the entrance of the theater as a large crowd circled around to curious of what happened. Pushing through the crowds, I noticed a body that was surrounded by medics. Fighting off the police officers that grabbed my arms trying their best to pull me away.

I ripped the tape as my heart froze, there laid my father with his chest covered in blood and breathless. My heart drowned in tears as my mother screamed by name in the distance.

***

Jerking my head upwards and realizing I was only dreaming.  I stripping myself from the bed as I pulled another tank top over me. Pulling a pair of sneakers from under my bed, I grabbed my navy bum bag as I clipped around the front of my waist. My fingers gathered my messy hair as I tied it up in a messy bun. My eyes blinked as I realized it was only six thirty in the morning. Of course. I rolled my eyes as I decided to run away. Forgetting my phone in my room as I tiptoed to the kitchen and pulled a water bottle out of the refrigerator and placing inside my bum bag. I closed the door of the house as I headed out. The sky was barely awake as it was fairly dark outside still. I smiled as I remember there were street lights to the place I was heading. Turning right off Elite Street, I ran until I stopped at a trespassing area. Looking both ways before climbing over the fence. I started to jog as she soon was swallowed up by the woods that surround her. Soon I was able to be out in the open area again as I noticed the stone wall my father first showed me when I was little.

Sitting down on top of the four-foot wall that oversaw the city of Hartfield. Thinking of how my father’s death my father’s death caused me to act. And sure I thought daily people lose someone but was it necessary to act like that? The fact that life isn’t about me or what I want. Life doesn’t go what I plan on.

I turned my head as I realized how I acted toward my own mother. A jerk, a dumb jerk. Sitting up as I ran home, barely noticed the sun rising from the east.

My heart stopped as the door of my house was wide open. Mom. I ran inside the door as my head turned as I noticed one of my mom’s lamp was shattered in pieces. “Mom, mom. Where are you?” I scanned the room as I noticed my mom’s room was opened. My spine noticed as I saw clasped on the bed from a stranger. “Hey.”

The stranger turned as he smiled.

My eyes widened as my mom had tears dripping down her face.

“Run, Fiona,” she moaned as she fell on the bed as the stranger smacked her face.

The stranger walked toward me as he placed his hand across my face.

My heart raced as I watched his movement.

“Well, it isn’t Kenneth’s daughter. If only you saw your father’s reaction when he realized who I was.”

Cyrus. “What are you doing here? You killed my father and got your revenge.”

“Ha, you think by killing him I feel better that he killed my wife.”

“He didn’t kill her.”

He gripped my throat and he slammed in a wall that a hanging picture. The glass pierced my back as I gripped for air “The only thing that will make me happier is killing you and your disgusted mother.”

I moaned as I could barely speak. “Kill me and only me. Leave my mother out of this.”

“Like I am going to do that.”

I looked over Cyrus’ shoulder as I watched my mother trying to dial her phone.

He released the grip from me as he pulled out his gun toward my mother.

With barely any strength, I threw myself as he clicked the gun. Falling on the bed with blood dripping down my chest.

I could barely hear my mother scream in pain as she dropped the phone and scrambled toward me.

In the background of everything going through my head, I could hear the faint sound of sirens. My vision blurred as I couldn’t see Cyrus anymore. My head lifted up as I could feel the warmth of my mother’s tears.

“Fiona, whatever you do. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Mom, please forgive me.”

My mom shook her head.

“Please, mom. I was selfish. I forgot how you are feeling since he died.”

She unraveled my hair as she began to pat it gently. “Shh..”

My head lends back as my eyes began to see only darkness. My eyes fluttered as I knew my time was coming to an end. Please, God, forgive me of my selfishness. And God please protect mom and the innocent people who deserve more love and forgiveness than I have with You. “Mom, I love you.”

THE END

Fourth Part of Fiona’s Hero

Greetings, owlnerds! Here is the fourth part of Fiona’s Hero.

Here is a recap:

Synopsis: Fiona’s world begins to fall apart. After a recent gun shooting, her biggest supporter is gone. Now she is struggling to keep the faith, keep her grades up, and stay out of trouble. Will Fiona keep the faith in one of the darkest times of her life? Or will she blame God for losing her father?

Read Part One

Read Part Two

Read Part Three

The Revelation (Fourth Part):

 I looked up as I felt a presence with me. My eyes widened as my father stood before me.

                He placed his hand on my back as he grinned. “Fiona, don’t blame God for this. Even when Job lost all of the children, he didn’t blame God for it. Its states in Job 1:21, “And said, Naked came I out of my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord”( Job 1:21). You need to remember how mom felt when her father died. She didn’t go into deep mourning and disappear from existence. She remembered that the Lord will guide her in the darkest times of her life.” I will bless the Lord, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night seasons. I have set the Lord always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore, my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope. For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is the fullness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures forevermore” (Psalm 16: 7-11).

            As the shower curtain pulled open, Mom placed a towel around my bright red back. “Fiona get up, baby. Your back is bright red.”

          My eyes flickered open as my head jerked back. The stinging pain of hot water caused me to moan. I slowly stood up as I bit my lip causing my lip to bleed.

          I looked at my face through the steamy mirror as my mom helped me into my bed.

               She grabbed a sports bra and helped me put it on. Slowly pulling down the towel, she gasped. “Oh, Fiona. My baby girl, your poor back.”

             I squeezed my eyes shut as my mom touched me.

            “I will be right back. I am going to get you a pack of ice and some aloe.”

              Turning my head, I wrapped the towel around my waist. I pulled open a drawer of my dresser and grabbing a pair of shorts. underwear and a tank top. Dropping the towel as I changed to a pair of black athletic shorts. Slowly I changed into a thin blue tank top.

                The door opened as my mom gasped. “Fiona, what are you think?” Grabbing my top as she tried to pull it off.

             “Mom, stop it.” My head turned as my eyes narrowed towards my mother.

               Mom’s eyes widened as she released her grip from my tank top. Placing the aloe bottle down as she clicked it open.

              “My mom please, I can do this by myself.”

                “Fiona.”

               Does she think I can’t do this? “Mom, now.”

                My mom stood up as she left the room.

               Good job, Fiona. Yell at your mom, like that is going to help anything. My eyes rolled as I grabbed the bottle and dumped some on my hands. Trying my best to cover my back as my shoulders began to ache. Slowly lying to the side of my bed, I wondered if I was seeing things or my father was actually there. He is dead, I had to repeat myself. He is not alive anymore.

Comment down below if you are enjoying it so far.

Thanks for reading!

Fiona’s Hero: Part One

Its Monday. I decided that each Monday, I will posting a new blog post. These posts will be either book tags, stories, poetry, and book reviews. Lets see how long this will last.

Fiona’s Hero

Genre: christian fiction, short story

Synopsis: Fiona’s world begins to fall apart. After a recent gun shooting, her biggest supporter is gone. Now she is struggling to keep the faith, keep her grades up, and stay out of trouble. Will Fiona keep the faith in one of the darkest times of her life? Or will she blame God for losing her father?

Part One (The Bus Stop)

Rain poured down from the horizon as I lifted up my heavy book bag over my head. Rushing to the closest subway stop, I collapsed into the seat. I gasped as I realized that my science essay had fallen out of my bag and was soaking in a nearby puddle. Leaning my head back as I sighed. What was I going to tell mom?

The creaking of the bus stopped beside the subway as my ears cringed from the squeaky noise of the tires. Holding my back tight across my chest, I stood up and headed toward the door of the bus.

As the door opened my rival, Charles Avery stepped out of the bus.

He smirked in a mischievous matter. He raised his eyebrows as he saw me. “Oh hello, failing Fiona how is school treating you?”

I nodded my head trying to avoid the anger boiling inside of me.

“So how is doing school at home? Is it true that your mom pulled you out of school because you are failing?”

She bit her lip. It was true. I was failing. Failing so poor my GPA was under a 3.0. “No, my mom that it best for a better environment.”

He laughed. “Seriously, that is your answer. You will never be going to Harvard, Fiona. You are a failure just like your father.”

My father was not a failure. He died saving people’s lives. My heart began to race as I knew the waterworks were coming. “You’re just jealous. My father saved lives.”

“Your father could have stayed at the hospital where he belonged but no he decided to go the shooting and he was next victim of another shooting.”

“At least he was a hero and died a hero. Your father is a coward and only cares for himself.”

Throwing a punch toward me, I fell hard on the sidewalk. I knew I shouldn’t have at said but sometimes he has always got on my nerves. As my eyes fluttered open as one of my eyes squinted as the ache from the punch entered. He had punched me in the eye. What will I tell mom? Lifting myself off the ground, I realize that my backpack is out of sight. Rubbing my forehead, I stood up. Gathering up my dirty blonde hair in a ponytail, I head north off of Henry Street toward my neighborhood.

My spine shivered as past the theater where my father and so many victims died. Why did my father have to die? He could have lived a long life, but no you had to kill him. He was my backbone. I looked up in the sky. What do you want from me? You killed my father. You did it. 

Emotions

Another poetry post. I honestly don’t care if any of you decide to unsubscribe. I am clueless what do with this blog. I feel like I failed by not doing weekly posts like I promised from the beginning.

So without further ado, here goes nothing.

I think the hardest thing to do is to breathe

To cry

To let your emotions break free

But it so easy to bury them

To pretend everything is ok

To look as though everything is under control

To hid it under your skin

When all you want do is scream

Hit a wall

Or maybe its this year

Where I release everything

That shatters my mirror

Hurts me worse than bruises

Emotions or overreacting

Like people will say?

I am just overreacting?

Or I losing myself completely?

Who knows anymore?

The fear now is if I will ever return to normal.

If normal is the new thing

Or will have this thing

Digging at me

My whole life

Destroy all the relationships

I hold dearly

Or will it ruin a new relationship

I come across.

Who knows anymore?

Thanks for reading.. maybe next week I will have a more uplifting post.. Maybe?

A Life Update through poetry

Five years I felt the pain of sorrow

And now I feel like its repeating itself.

The strings of my heart are being tugged

Even now I am hiding it from human’s eyes.

I had shut the world out.

Being a timid and emotionless person was easy to be.

I was safe.

I kept people safe from my uncontrollable emotions

Now I still hide in that shell.

Afraid of what people would say if I told them the truth

Would they care less?

Or just laugh at me?

Pity me?

I’m just a hidden shell of insecurities and trust issues.

From losing a loved one. To losing a close friend who was almost like sister.

Now knowing a childhood friend is gone away

And will be only seen them until I be in the grave.

I am afraid. I will never open up again. Afraid I will be my old self.

Being that awkward teen who only hanged out with her older brothers’ friends.

Confused who to talk to.

I am lost soul.

You look at me online and see me as outgoing.

But in reality, its all lies.

You would think I would cried over the sorrow I experienced

But I hid it under my skin

Until the sadness became nightmares and hallucinations

I think something wrong with me.

Why do I cry when I laugh?

And not when I am sad.

Is something wrong with me?

I probably should see someone for this.

But even again, they will probably put me on meds

And I can’t have that again.

I have seizures when I was a child.

And barely survived the daily medicine I had to take.

It was not bad.

But to have a repeated past

would honestly break me.

Seeking God is my top priority 

Praying and reading the bible is my only comfort now.

I pray and dream of the day I will be outgoing for only a moment.

But that seems so far away.

Now I must wait for the plans He has for me.



A poem: A Crush

People say you don’t know love

But you say you do

Looking at your sweetheart

Through the corner of your eye 

But not saying a word 

Not thinking one thing 

Except maybe I’m in love.


Maybe it’s not love

But liking that special someone

Or avoiding that person

For long periods of time

Since you are afraid 

Of what she or he will say.

Maybe its a category of love

Maybe just maybe?

Maybe I know nothing of love

Since I never been 

In a relationship?

Maybe I am clueless 

To even notice a difference

Between like or love

Maybe I’m dumbstruck

Maybe or maybe not?

Love is this thing

Which so hard

To explain

And songs can never explain it

Even if they tried.

Or maybe I am just losing it

And never will experience

This thing we call love. 

Maybe or maybe not? 

Show Raw Emotion

Welcome back, owlnerds. Its been awhile. I recently read a story from Olivia J. Bennett and made me realize we should express raw emotion. Real emotion. We should dig through all the thoughts and put them on paper. To have realistic characters, we need to understand what the character is going through.

And times, we don’t share this emotion or thoughts because it isn’t vital to the plot itself. Maybe it is.

Ex.

The world was collapsing and she with it. Gripping her cheeks as she screamed. It can be happening. He can’t be dead. Flashes of red, white, and blue covered the scene as everything happened so fast. Her body shook as paramedics began to talk to her as they questioned what just happened. Seeing blurrier figures walk toward him. She rose as she screamed at them. “Get away from him.” Her eyes looked behind her as some of the paramedics grabbed her as they pulled her into the ambulance. No, don’t dare put me in there. He needs me. He will wake up and will wonder where I. She slammed on the doors of the ambulance as they shut the door. “No, you fools. He needs me.” Falling to her knees as she continuously mumbled to herself, “No. He can’t be dead. No. He can’t die. I need him. What am I going to do without him.” (FYI, I was going to write a war battle scene, but since they were going to brutally wound description. I gave you this emotional sad scene.)

Raw Emotion or Show not tell. I currently question whether or change my title. Just trying to show some originality or attempting to. What I stated before “we need to understand what the character is going through. ” I know people say you need the experience to write certain things. I usually imagine what if I was in that situation what would I do. Or if you can’t do that, ask someone. I am sure someone could tell what they would do or feel in that situation.

I know for a fact that showing and telling is difficult even I struggle with it. I think if we write one step at a time. I know you want to finish your draft as soon as possible well I was there too. If we take each scene slowly and feel like the character themselves we will have less editing to do.

That is all for today’s post. Let me know, what you would like to see next.

Open Your Horizons

Greetings, owlnerds! It’s the first blog post of 2019. This year will be a crazy year. I plan on finishing my rewrites by the end of March. So I take the next big step toward publishing. More info for that will come soon. For today’s post, I am telling myself and all that we should expand our research, our ideas, and development of worlds. Enjoy!!

As I walk around a bookstore staring at books besides the classics. I see heavy duty romance, stories of assassins, and the chosen one. Popular books and over-hyped books. As writers, we should expand our ideas above the horizon. We usually get our ideas from other popular books.

As a fantasy writer, myself. I enjoying my setting be based in the medieval times, of course. I chose this setting because I am inspired by Tolkien. I decided to expand my imagination by modernizing it. Still medieval themes with several adjustments.

We should start looking back at the basics. We could do some retelling with biblical characters, fairy tales, mythology, etc. We should take events in history and create our own worlds. We should use politics as a means of ideas. We need to observe people more. We should watch the behavior of how people react to certain things. We should listen to how people talk. We should notice more carefully how the world around us works. We should notice how each season changes to the next. We should notice how certain people dress. We should study other people’s cultures. We should notice the different landscape other countries have.

The main reason for this blog post is to stop looking at the screen for an answer and observe the world a little more each day. See ya soon.