Tag 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

Fiona’s Hero Part Three

Welcome back back, owlnerds! Enjoy Part Three: The Argument

Flipping on the living room lights, I headed toward the kitchen. With piles of dishes in the sink, I ignore the mess and open our stainless steel refrigerator. Opening the bottom drawers, I pulled out an apple and a string of cheese. Shutting refrigerator door, I rolled my eyes.

Mom had placed both of her hands on both of the counters so I couldn’t get out. “Fiona, please don’t blame God. Your father wouldn’t want you to act like this.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Like what, mom? How can I be normal when my father dies? People say the grief will pass. It’s a lie. How can they know anything? All the people who tell me this, have never lost anyone.”

Tears dripped down my mother’s face as she placed her hands off the counter.

Racing past her as I opened my bedroom door.

My room was like an average bedroom with a bed in the middle under the window. My white wooden desk on the right and my night table on the other side. The bathroom stood on the left side of the room. Falling flat on the bed as I pull a pillow off and hug it. Slowly my eyes shut and I pass out.

My eyes widened as sweat paced down my neck. Shifting my head, I realize what I was seeing was just a dream. Sitting up as I rubbed the back of my neck. It was a dream, I tell myself. Dad is gone, the shooters are not coming to get you. Just breathe. Removing the sheet of my sweating body, my eyes turn toward my nightstand where my father’s bible sat there. Turning my head, I jump off my bed and into the bathroom. I strip down, turned the hot water on and dip in. Steam fills the air as I begin scrubbing my head with lavender shampoo. My ears perk up as I hear something.

“Come on, Melinda, Let’s surprise Fiona.”

“Kenneth, you can’t surprise her if you are not whispering.”

Tears drip down my face as I remember the exact moment in time that conversation had happened. It was the morning of my sixteen birthday I just woke up because of my “whispering” to my mom. Crouching down as I curled my hands around my knees as I ignored the fact that my skin began to burn bright red as the water continued to run. “Papa, why did you die? I should be taken your place. You never deserve to die.”

Fiona’s Hero Part Two

Hello, owlnerds. Here is the part two of Fiona’s Hero. Enjoy!

The Drive Home

The honking of car made me turn quickly. A car had slowed down in front as the passenger’s window rolled down. A older woman around her forties with dark brunette hair with olive eyes smiled at me. “What have you being doing? When I saw that you weren’t on the bus, I started to get nervous.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I’m fine.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Where is your backpack?”

“I lost it.”

“Lost it, Fiona how could you have lost it?”

I opened the passenger door as I slipped in. “Charles Avery, thats who.”

Releasing her foot off the brake, she continued to drive north. “Charles Avery, maybe I should talk to his mother.”

Lifting my feet on the car’s dashboard, I turn my head towards my mother. “Please, don’t. At least he didn’t get to my wallet or phone.”

She turned her blinker on as she turned left on Elite Street. “Well either way I am going to talk to Mrs. Avery besides how is school going?”

“I would say great but that’s not true. I failed my math exam, lost my science essay, and was called into the principal office.”

Turning her car on our driveway, she stopped the car and turned her head toward me. “Principal’s office?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know I couldn’t play hooky for English class.”

“Why did you skip class?”

I raised my hands in the air. “I didn’t make my big presentation. How can I make a presentation where I can’t bring the person part of it is dead. Hmm, mom. What am I going do?”

My mom lend forward and squeezed my hand. “Fiona, I hope you are not blaming Him for this?”

“Maybe I am. He would have been a life if there was no shooting.”

“Fiona, you can’t believe that.”

Unbuckling myself, I opened the door. “I am, mom. I am.” Tears dripped down my face as I walked toward our white town house front door. Pressing down the correct combination, the door unlocks as I head inside.

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.

My Stories

Welcome back, owlnerds. This week, I am sharing my stories.  Enjoy and let me know what story you excited to read. Or what project I should do next?

Contemporary Stories

Lynn: 

When one of Lynn’s friends disappears, she begins to track down her. Soon to discover a scandalous organization is behind all of it. Slowly killing each leader of the pack, she discovers her life is more threatened. Will she protect her friends or will she be the next victim?

Indian Gathering:

When an important day comes, her past returns to haunt her. Scrambling to discover the real truth of her past, she learns that not everyone close to her is worth the trust.  Is she self-doubting herself or is the past going to lose the reality of what is? Will she return t Io the heavenly Father she once believed? Or will fall back into the sin she was so consumed to trust?

Historical Stories:

The Raven’s Quill:

Azalea was never ready to be the woman. Her mother wanted her to be. Having grace and marrying into a wealthy family. She wants to enjoy life like it has always been. She wants to marry for true love. Lost in a world of men, Azalea must choose the right path. A path to follow her heart or live by her mother’s. To write as her passion or be like all the other married women.

Drowning Daughter:

Lilith never knew she was different. Living on the sea as a child until she is offered a chance with a foster family to take her in. She learns who her true ancestors are and what power she carries. And the monster, she really is.

Sci-fiction Stories:

Paralyzed:

When Brianne discovered that she was a mutant in her mother’s womb. Everything changed. Life gets more complicated than it already seems. Brianne living with her husband, Zack, clueless of her powers. Playing the part of a nurse in a building where she could cure anyone. Brianne ventures out in the outer world as a world breakout comes to reality. When she discovers the worse of secrets, she must choose her fate or lose any understanding of what life is all about.

 

Dystopian/ Post Apocalyptic Stories

Ezra:

After an epidemic of nuclear radiation, a family of three loses a loved one. Ezra must hold his responsibility by taking care of Nia. Without Caitlin by his side, Ezra is afraid. He must venture out and find a safe haven before time goes against them.

Ditexa:

As the daughter of the president, it would seem like a dream come true. But when she discovers what her father has done, she must choose to protect her people. Or stand by and watch as the world around crumbles before her eyes.

Cancer:

Every person is born with a twin. One is good and one is evil. One day, Marlie is arrested for a crime she never did. Thrown into a hidden territory by the government, she has only heard stories of. When she arrives, she learns where all evil comes from and it’s not from earth.

Fantasy Stories:

The Phantom of the Sea:

A retelling of Ursula. Since her older brother, Tryon married, Ursula has been pushed to the side. Ursula has continuously felt unloved. Year by year her nieces are born and she feels as though her life is unmeaningful. But one day Ursula meets someone. Someone who will change her fate forever.

 

The Crown of Scales:

When Odessa discovers something from her past, will it ruin her chances of being the heir to the throne? Or is marriage even option? Can she even overcome the pressure to juggle them all at once?

 

 

If My Heart Could Speak

Welcome back, owlnerds. This week, I will be sharing a poem wrote this past weekend. Enjoy!!!

If my heart could speak

If my life could collapse

The world would disappear

Into the thinness of nothing

If my cold feet

Couldn’t surface

The endless beings

Of this world and be on

I would take away everything.

My own being, my own mind.

My own fears and trusts

Life is like an existing pain with light

At the end of the road

And we are so afraid

Of that light

That we cast away

In the shadows

Of those lost souls

That refuse to believe in anything

And we become cursed

As our souls begin

To disappear in thin air.