awesomewordsofcreation-blog

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Teaser

A year I have waited, just over a year. I didn't have time to grieve or leave. I just had to wait in the shadows. I had to wait in the shadows for her. There was no rest for this town who'd suffered greatly trusting someone that only betrayed them in the end. I waited patiently in the shadows. Waited for her to resurface. She wasn't someone that could handle not being the centre of attention. That narcissist woman and the manipulative games she played. I'd come back to work during the week but during the weekends I was obsessed. I claimed I was only going on roadtrips but really I was trying to find her. That woman that would destroy lives all for the sake of keeping her squeaky clean image and her secrets secret.

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Finished Product

So now that I have finished my novel I am going to go back to my creative writing course. All the while planning on doing Camp NanoWrimo next year in April. The book I plan on writing then is going to be the sequel to Plastic Disciples. This book is going to be called Amateur Occultists which I a going to have to do a bit of research on before I write the book.

Stay tuned for more writing to come. My book Plastic Disciples will be revised edited and possibly sent to a publisher in January next year.

That's all for today folks.

Catch ya!

Sarah-Josie

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The finale of my book...I’m on the home stretch of NanoWrimo now

He could see how much I ached inside. He could see the river of pain inside me. The forensic team walked past me and asked me where the body was. “The body?”

That’s all I want to give away so far. But as you can see it’s coming to an explosive ending. Stay tuned! Watch this space!

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44,000 words and I’m thinking about the next project.

The next book I write. I want to write an explosive novel. Even more explosive than this one. I may or may not publish it but it’s about a Woman reminiscing on her relationship with her father and talking about how this relationship has affected her life as an adult. This book will be a fictional novel of course.

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My little NanoWrimon

[url=http://thousandroads.net/fanfic/nanowrimon/][img]http://thousandroads.net/fanfic/nanowrimon/serve?user=preraphaeliteofthemoon&id=3876[/img][/url]

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Plastic Disciples (NanoWrimo)

So as some of you might know I have already signed up to NanoWrimo. I started my novel yesterday and today I am aiming for the 3000 word mark. Here’s a little snippet of what I have written so far.

Justice is like a beautiful mythical creature that gets dangled in front of me whenever I hear  the word ‘Murder’. Justice is what I believe in; it’s my motto in life. ‘Live you’re life for justice or die a worthless piece of shit.’ Of course that’s not everyone’s gig but if I can’t get justice for one person in a hundred cases, then I’m a worthless cop and  should quit while I’m ahead.

I hope this fills people with wonder about what I am writing.

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Time to choose your costume - it’s Halloween time!

My first animation only done with Photoshop.

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Blood on the floor...you inch closer and realise there is a severed head on the floor.

Oh no, you just broke a window

You didn’t mean to do it. But you did it. And now there’s a spooky noise coming from inside the house. You’re terrified but you can’t just run away without looking. You inch slowly toward the shattered glass, peer into the living room, and see

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Wild Things.

My life has always been boring. It had no risk, no excitement. I was just a corporate zombie. My name, a beautiful name as it was, was not something I had lived up to. My name was Divinity. Divinity Woods. My mother would always say that there was a deep and beautiful secret in our family and when the time is right, I would discover it for myself. I rolled my eyes and said to my mother, 'If its money, its not beautiful' My mother would sigh and would just carry on as if the conversation never happened. I always wondered why she was the way that she was. I felt like she had no fight in her. She always seemed to not suffer in life and that everything came easy for her. I hated that she was that way. She never had a care in the world. She never hated anyone and she never appeared to get angry. Her charm would work with everyone and everything she wanted just seemed to gravitate to her. My mothers height always seemed imposing to me. I hated feeling so small in my everyday life but there she always was, towering over me in her baby blue apron while she asked me to pass her the grannie smith apples and asked me would I like some apple pie? I never liked sweets. Life to me was bitter, so why pretend its not by stuffing myself that would make me wider as well as shorter. Another thing that really annoyed me was her obsession with fleetwood mac. Her gypsy songs always reminded me of how confined I felt in my little body and in this money obsessed society we live in. My mothers hippy trippy lifestyle would really give me the hives so I visited her as little as I could.

My life was not so spectacular so I guess I was envious of my mother. I had no skills or talents. I flunked high school and when I made it to the real world I ended up getting a traineeship in administration at my local council building. All I knew how to do was to make money. I was just another cash cow, another government statistic, they had to cater for. Every man I ever dated was a user or a drunk and my friends would always ditch whenever they got a new squeeze or just a man for the night. One time I had a friend who was so high on spliff that she ditched me for the night for a woman. This is a straight woman I'm talking about. The next day she was vomitting and called me telling me how much she regretted eating pussy, expecting me to pick up the pieces and come over to bring pizza and chocolate. I told her to lose my number.

My life was a shithole. I had dark almost black hair and brown eyes, pale skin. I looked like a vampire half the time. I often wished I was blond. Blonds have more fun and by what I heard of Marilyn Monroe, have better luck with men too. I mean John F Kennedy? Ring a ding ding. If only I had his number. My life was a mess and I was desperate for something different. Maybe I should skip town and run away to a different country or state? I could backpack in new zealand. All these ideas seemed useless to me as I was too lazy to follow through with anything.

My life was a maze and the rest of the world was laughing at me because they could fit into it better than I could. One day as I was walking home from work, I saw a raven. It croaked at me. 'Yeah Yeah, I said. Say Nevermore. It would be so cliché' but the raven just looked at me strange and flew off. 'No? You're not going to tell me about my dead wife Lenore? I'm no Poe rookie'  I kept walking into the dark forest. At this point I didn't care if someone were to kidnap and rape me. It would have been a more interesting event in my life then the usual events I had in my life right now. No more fleetwood mac mum, please no more.

My gaze fell upon a mysterious knotted looking tree, all twisted and worn looking. I imagined it was me and I placed my right hand on one of the knots in the tree. All of a sudden I saw a green snake moving slowly towards my hand. I yanked my hand back and screamed, my shrill scream echoing through the air, reverberating in my eyes. I blinked and all of a sudden I realised that there was nothing there. Clearly I was losing it. The sleepless nights working must have finally cracked my brain. A flock of ravens flew off and my heart sank into my stomach. Chills ran down my spine and fear injected itself into my heart, making it beat a thousand beats a second it felt like. I felt a hand on my shoulder and a warm breath in my ear. I heard a quite, slow and echoing 'Divinity...' I turned around to see who was behind me...no-one. I felt lightheaded, a cold breeze making the hairs on my neck stand up and the last thing I remember, was hitting the ground with a loud thud. I don't know what happened when I lay in front of that twisted up tree unconscience. I immediately thought I could have been drugged or kidnapped but all this was the furthest from the truth.

I woke up in a stange sort of reality. I must have been drugged. There's got to be some sort of logical explanation for this. Why on earth do I have wings? What's this in my hair? Glitter? What kind of drugged up party have I landed myself in?

I looked at my hand and words came up on my palm. The Wind Faerie. The room I woke up in was beautiful, the curtains were a pealescent white. The walls were silver. The bedsheets beneath me seemed to be white silk and white velvet. Whoever designed this room knew what they were doing. The room smelt like burnt sage and all my woeful thoughts started to melt in my brain. I could hear a harp playing. Still I was confused. Where could I be? Just then a wise looking man with long grey hair and gasses walked into my room. "Sorry to come in uninvited like this but you are the daughter of a faerie. I know tat sounds bizarre. Your father was a Scottish man, all human but your mother tried to conform. You had to have a normal life before you could fulfil your destiny." "And what is my destiny?" To protect the Merlin. The Merlin's job is to protect our future King Arthur. Well it was until the selfish Elaine became so powerful she entrapped him in a tree. This was many centuries ago. Arthur is long dead and Merlin's new destiny is upon us. Merlin is to return to our great land. Your destiny as part human, part wind faerie, is to open up the tree and release him so he can save our world through his powerful magic he will conduct in the most enchanted forests in the world" "...And how am I supposed to do that exactly?" "Take this key, hold I close to your heart always. The magic of compassion will activate this key magically. Walk through the forest until you find the only tree with purple flowering sage grown all around it. Once you find this tree the key will burn in your hand. Place the key on the biggest knot in the tree and as soon as the key is placed in the tree, the tree will unravel itself and Merlin will walk out of the tree. But if you hear Merlin's name whispered in the air, act fast." The man handed me a small key with a square head. "Hold it to your chest and tune through the forest. Find the enchanted tree fast, remember its the one surrounded by all the purple sage flowers." I nodded and ran out of the wooden cabin I was in, clutching the key to my chest.

I was running for 14 minutes until I found the tree. The sage was glowing purple around it. All of a sudden I realised it was the same tree I had fallen unconscious in front of. I placed the key over the knot but the tree was no opening up yet. .....merlin..... I heard a whisper and a sword was rising from the lake to my left. A women's hand clutching it. "Hurry, Hurry, Hurry" I said to the key. Finally the tree unravelled itself as a woman in white was holding a sword up to my neck. Merlin showed up in the nick of time as the woman was about to slice my neck in two. He exclaimed something in Celtic and pointed to the woman behind me. The woman disappeared and I fell unconscious to the ground once again. When I woke up, I was in front of that tree again. With no sage around it. But the sun had stared to rise and I realised I didn't have wings anymore. It must have been a dream I thought and I looked at my hand. There was a Celtic symbol on my hand that was fading as I as looking at it. I dusted myself and walked into the sunset, wondering where Merlin was and whether or not what I had just experienced was a dream.

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True.

I started my journey walking from home. I didn't like catching the train to Emu Plains. I always walked. I made my way out of the glass doors at the front of my apartment block. The air was sticky and humid and the air kissed my skin with the warmth of the sun. I was all done up. Looking beautiful and wearing heels. On second thought maybe it wasn't the best idea to walk in heels. I caught the train after all. I put my music into my ears in the form of earphones and pumped up Britney Spears, my soundtrack to this date. "Your toxic tongue slipping under, with the taste of a poison paradise" hmmm, maybe not that one, I flicked through the songs I had of hers on my iPad. "I can't take it, take it no more, never felt like this before." that's better. That song resonates with my mood.

 I sat at the station for a while in my black glitter body hugging dress, and I felt great in my new round black sunnies. I felt so beautiful. I heard a high pitched sound, looked to my left and the train pulled up in front of me. The doors open and I carefully walked in, watching the gap extra carefully in heels.

When I arrived Emu Plains station, it took a while to find him. I was kind of nervous. I hadn't been on a date in years. After a few texts I finally found him. He was on the O'Donahues side. I walked over to him. He was casually dressed. He said "Hi how are you?" as he hugged me hello. "I'm good. How are you?" "Yeah I'm good" we walked over to O' Donahue and surprisingly I felt calm. Usually on first dates I was a nervous wreck but this guy made me feel calm and safe.

We went to O'Donahues and talked about our lives, our family, the family we love, and the family that bring us down. We're we've been. Where we were born. All those sorts of things. I felt like I had known this man all my life. His stutter was adorable and I found him so easy to relate too. I always felt inadequate with most dates, but this guy made me feel like a person. A person who was likable and down-to-earth. His red hair was so beautiful. I was captivated by everything about him but still I felt grounded and calm. I was glad to not feel nervous or jittery.

His freckles on his nose seemed to make him seem like he had so much boyish charm, but his eyes were beyond his years. He had seen a lot in his life. Probably too much. The bar tender mixed us some nice cocktails and encouraged us to occupy the dance floor. Our body language was so close, like he knew me and loved me before he even knew my name, and as our bodies flowed into the flow of the rhythm of the music, he leaned in and kissed me. He was unafraid to make the first move. It was like he thought, now that I have you in my arms, I have to kiss you. Show you that its your heart I want to keep forever. Later that evening after we kissed and cuddles and laughed and flirted, he told me "You know what I want to say right now?" "What's that?" "I think I love you" I kissed him in response.

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The Fool on the Stage.

She saw him up there, performing on the stage of an old lecture hall. He talked about being an artist in a melodramatic way.' How could I have been so stupid?!' she thought. Damien was a self absorbed art student at her college. He was a musician and ice addict that slept around with as many girls on campus as he could. Seeing him act in a poorly written play made her even sicker to her stomach. While these butch type musician beer drinking, messy, 70's wannabe hipsters paraded the stage thinking that just because they knew something about writing for music, meant that they could write for anything.... But it was perfect in a uni situation because uni students were notorious for being heavy drinkers and you would have to be completely wasted to enjoy this. She looked around, 'oh yeah that'd be right everyone has a beer in their hand' the hypocrisy of it all... Let's go educate ourselves and further our careers while we do everything we can to kill our brains and destroy our minds with alcohol and drugs after class. These were spoilt 'Avant gard' rich kids who had the luxury of an education but didn't truly appreciate it. And Annabelle got sucked in to their culture to serve their own carnal desires and spat back out like gum that lost its flavour. All because she wanted to be accepted into what she thought was her tribe. Artist or no artist, art school was a mistake and Damien was her worst mistake. She thought she was in love with him, even drove into the depths of madness and despair while he dangled her on a string and only called on her when he decided he wanted her. There was no mercy in his self absorbed destructive ways.

She wondered if he saw her. Saw her in the crowd. Saw her one last time with his eyes. There's the girl I let my friends destroy her like wolves. There's the girl I destroyed. I wonder if there is still love in her eyes for me? Let me zero in to her eyes from here.

But her eyes were cold, filled with emotions of revulsion, disgust and anguish. There was no love in her eyes at all. Maybe he would have taken a step back in his mind thinking 'but every woman I have been with has still at least liked me. I'm a nice guy, I just can't commit'

But she saw the demons he unleashed. She finally saw him clearly and walked away once the play had ended. She at least gave him that before she walked out, moved on, found someone better. Devotion gets wasted sometimes, but if abused, devotion wanders to someone worthy. She finally opened her eyes to the truth. It was not her loss. It was his. Her true love was waiting... despite the cynicism she had... Love would find her because she gave so much. The good do not go un rewarded. 

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Update!

So my fiancé and I have decided we really want to do an online course in creative writing. We are both writers and would really love to get our work published. I am so excited about 'tis. Not only am I getting involved in Nanowrimo next month but I am going to do this course in creative writing. I was just reading a bit of bio about my pav writer just now: Gillian Flynn. She was raised by to academic lecturers. Her Father taught film and her Mother taught Reading. Two of her books have become films... Which made me realise that it wasn't such a waste after all doing half a Visual Art degree majoring in film. I still absolutely love film, but I don't feel like I am any good at directing. I was good at writing about it though and my film theory lecturer even offered me a possible place as one of his honour students once for my tutorial and essay on abjection film. Abjection is my field I suppose. Even with writing. Gillian Flynn is one of the best abject writers I think. I canny wait to start this course. 😊

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Abandoned.

I woke up in the morning...I think it was 7am because that's the usual time I get up. I walk to the kitchen to find Daddy laying on the floor. He looks asleep. I walk over to him to wake him up. But he won't wake up. Just as I shake Daddy one more time, my little brother comes out. "Sis! Where's Dad?" "He's asleep on the kitchen floor but he won't get up." My brother looked worried and scared at the same time. "Mummy won't get up. She's very warm ad turning black" I'm confused. Why wont Mummy and Daddy get up. "Maybe Mummy and Daddy stayed up past their bedtime, lets wait a while, play cluedo and then try and wake them after that." "Good idea, I'll find food and you go open the game up." I opened the game box and my brother started to rummage through the cupboards behind Daddy. I started to set up the game board when I heard my brother sighing in frustration. "There's nothing to eat!" "What?" I exclaimed. "Oh here we go, here's a tin of dog food. I'm sure Flynn wouldn't mind if we shared his meaty chunks with him." "Errr ok" "Argh! I can't get the tin open. Ah here we go, biscuits" My brother and I ate biscuits sparingly, hoping Mummy and Daddy would wake up and feed us a good break. What felt like 3 hours later, my brother and I tried to wake up Mummy and Daddy. Jim my brother tried to wake up Daddy and I tried to wake up Mummy. Still they wouldn't' say a word o open their eyes. Mummy looked very black and barely like Mummy and she smelled awful. I cried and ran to my brother. We were scared and crying. We were so confused. Why was Mummy and Daddy being mean and ignoring us?

It had bee two days ad Jim and got bored out of our brains. We were so happy Flynn wasn't ignoring us. We gave him his doggy biscuits mostly. And a little bit of his canned food. All of  sudden the phone rang. "Can we speak to your Daddy or your Mummy please?" "Mummy and Daddy are asleep" "We'll can you please try an wake up your Mummy for me?" "I don't like Mummy anymore, she's turned black" The lady on the phone sounded like she was having trouble breathing..." Would you mind giving me your address so my boss wake up your parents?" "Ok, but I don't think you can... It's 2/23 Hampshire lane, Stephanie Court." "Thank you Miss, we will also bring you some Ice Cream for your help." "Yay! See you soon" finally, someone can help us.

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MAGNA CARTA 2

True love

Music

A little guy triumphing over a bully.

Pretentious writing.

Overcomplicated writing.

Books about normal blue collar people.

Books set in the workplace.

Happy endings.

Happy and predictable plots.

Cheesy titles and story lines.

Books about mainstream music and celebrities.

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MAGNA CARTA 1

First person narration.    

Quirky characters.

Crime.

Poetic writing.

Reference to other literature or real life events.

Strong charismatic protagonists.

Improbable romances.

Plot twists.

Unexpected alliances.

Smart but unpretentious writing.

Cliffhanger chapter endings.

Conspiracies.

Supernatural themes.

Two faced characters.

Animal narrators.

Irredeemably malicious main characters.

Mentally ill main characters.

Dysfunctional sibling dramas.

Books consisting largely of a characters thoughts.

Weighty moral themes.

Unhappy endings.

Complex endings.

Thought provoking endings.

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A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.

Gillian Flynn, from Sharp Objects (via lifeinpoetry)