The Crab Moves On

If you've been hip to what I've tried to accomplish here
If you are an open-minded sort who is capable of engaging in polite exchange even when disagreeing with someone
If you want to be a part of something truly unique
Then click the banner below and join the Strange crew.
Because from now on, all things relating to the book and my mission will be found there.
If you were part of things here, thank you. I hope you will continue to be a part of it at my very own bizarre little home.

Visit New Strange World

To Book Sign or Not to Book Sign

I believe it was Jodi Picoult who once said that while book signings benefit certain authors, there are other authors who it actually hurts. I believe I would fall into the second category. I'm extremely shy by nature (which is the reason I used to get seriously smashed at any kind of social event) and my voice has a tendency to shake when I get too nervous. Also, I'm not much to look at, so I don't like having my picture taken.

Sometime this summer I'm signed up to do a "blog tour." Even that makes me kind of nervous. I've been so tired for such a long time and under so much stress that I don't know if I can muster what it takes to sound excited about my project. I hope I can pull it from somewhere. There's nothing like having people say "well, she doesn't sound very intense about what she's doing, why should we be?"

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u need 2 lrn 2 spl

There is no such word as "u" in the English language. The word is you. Y-O-U. "U" is a letter. Get it? Got it? Good!

Just had to get this off my chest. Especially when I see people using "u" for "you" on a so called "serious" website, I just want to go postal!

Using "u" instead of "you" makes an otherwise smart person look super duper uber stuuuuupid!!!!!!!!

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Paying for Entre Card

I use Entre Card (entrecard.com) and I do think it gets results. However, I simply do not have time to be doing drops on a regular basis. I think it is helpful to go through and examine the various blogs once a month, however, to find possible advertising sources, as I am always looking for cheap, effective advertising.

I decided to pay for my Entre Card advertising. At 60 cents for 1000 impressions or 4 cents per click, it is pretty affordable. And unlike Google, I can pay as I go rather than having my debit card nuked for a minimum of $5 a day. While a lot of Internet marketers use Entre Card, it seems that a lot of creatives use it as well. I get no compensation for sharing this information. It is simply my impression of the service.

I also intend to add a question to my main site asking people to tell me where they found me.

Sometimes its hard for us right brain types to wrap our heads around the left brain stuff necessary for promotion. It's been a hell of a journey for me. Which is why I like to share what I find, to make it easier for others.

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My latest 1 Million Monkeys Snippet

It was noplace that I could ever remember being in my life. It was so beautiful and clean. No smog on the horizon, in fact, nary a sound of a motor anywhere. The buzzing of bees, the chirping of birds, this was all I could hear. I walked over to the lake and waded in up to my knees, then walked back out and sat down on the wonderful soft grass. Could I have died and gone to Heaven? This was all too beautiful to be real.

I looked at the trees surrounding the lake. There seemed to be every kind of tree imaginable. Palm trees, pine trees, willow trees, apple trees. Truly, this must be Eden, or some very close approximation.
I walked over to one of the apple trees and grabbed an apple. It was perfectly ripe, not a blemish anywhere. As I was about to take a bite, I heard a low, hissing voice beside me.
"Don't eat that. You remember what happened last time."
I looked slightly down and to my right. A serpent was coiled around the tree. A talking serpent, admonishing me not to eat the apple.
Then something cold and slimy tapped me on the left arm. Another snake proceeded to speak to me.
"Don't listen to that wuss. These are good apples. The best in the Universe. Every one filled with knowledge. You know you want to eat it. Trust me."
"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing," the first snake warned. "A lot can be downright deadly."
I looked at the snakes and back at the apple. Did I listen to the snake on the right or the snake on the left? Whatever I chose could effect every being in the Universe. What to do?

Read the rest of the story here.

Adam Finch's Legacy

http://www.lilystrange.com/



Adam Finch’s Legacy

From Nightshade

Copyright 1978 by Aldon R. Quay

C&P Granite Quarry.

The twin towns of Cyrus and Prentice, Iowa had been built up around this hellish hole in the ground, a quartz mine established in 1853. 27-year-old Adam Finch desperately needed to discover the truth behind his family’s one-time livelihood, now but a scar on the Earth, depleted of the minerals that once made it glorious. He needed to find out what evil had been unearthed in his recent attempt to reclaim the mine and turn it into something other than a wicked blight on the land. Because something was killing the citizens of Prentice and Cyrus, and Adam felt responsible.

Adam had known that something inexplicably bad was going on in the area when that poor girl, Claudia--no, Claudette—told him the impossible story that had confirmed his worst fears. Claudette was a pretty but unassuming California blonde with a French-sounding name bestowed on her by her former model mother. A sweet, fun-loving girl like Claudette belonged in San Diego, but her father’s job as a mine inspector had brought her to the hellhole that was Cyrus during her last semester of high school. The damn ugly twin towns with their ugly people had not only clouded Claudette’s sunny attitude but had destroyed her very life. There were murders that couldn’t be proven because the dead rose and walked soon after their slaying. There was no turning to the law for help in a matter that defied all natural laws, especially when the peacekeepers were themselves part of the problem. Adam wished that Claudette were still here to help him with her sharp mind and her insider’s knowledge. But she couldn’t deal with that knowledge and so she went away. Adam wondered if Claudette still lived, if living you could call it, or if she had eliminated her earthly body along with the risk of corruption of her eternal soul. No matter, Claudette was gone. And if Adam didn’t do something, a lot of other people would be gone too. The only other people who could tell him anything were long dead themselves, but Adam prayed that the words they had left behind could hold the key that could save himself and the still-innocent people who had no idea what to do about the supernatural corruption that was spreading through their towns. So Adam picked up his great-grandfather’s diary and began to read.

Adam’s great-great grandfather Jason Prentice and his cousin Sam Xavier Cyrus had been clever, hardworking young Southerners wanting to escape the chaos that threatened their home. They didn’t want to fight to defend slavery, an institution they reviled. They didn’t, in fact, want to fight at all. Their parents were dead, their siblings living with aunts and uncles. So they took the small fortunes left by their fathers and headed North. They were young and idealistic: Jason was 23 and Sam was just 19. Bright and full of enthusiasm, they reckoned that everybody else was mining gold, silver and coal. Why didn’t they mine for the less pricey but very useful quartz? The gravel that resulted from the operation could also be useful to line the roads of towns sprouting up in the young west. If the North won the war as Jason and Sam prayed it would, they could hire cheap labor among hopeful Negroes coming from the South looking for work, and from anyone else in need of a job. The wages might be negligible at first, but they’d offer three meals a day, adequate water, and bunkhouses for the men who had no other home. And they’d offer something that every soul craved no matter the color of his skin: respectful treatment.

The day that Jason and Sam arrived in the tiny coal-mining town of Devlin, Iowa they purchased a surveyor’s map and two plates of stew. They then rode out to meet one Noyes Istrodja, the owner of the land upon which lay the proposed site of their mine. Istrodja, a Balkan immigrant, had discovered the mineral deposits, which led him to place the advertisement in various newspapers around the country regarding mineral-rich land for sale. He had no interest in mining himself, and intended to move further west to the new territory of Utah where land was cheap and fertile. He wanted to bring his mother, brother and sister from his homeland. He was restless and didn’t care for the flatlands of Iowa. He wanted to be reminded of the mountains of the country he’d never see again.

Istrodja, with his father and grandfather, had built a rather impressive house with a little farm plot not far from the mining area. Jason and Sam were thrilled. The land now seemed like an even greater bargain. The house could be both a dwelling and an office. The men who had wives, mothers, sisters, or children old enough to work the land could help create a little working farm and all would share in the bounty.

The Istrodja family had a small cemetery plot behind the house. The gravestones displayed the names of Lorand Istrodja, Noyes’ grandfather; Kriztian Istrodja, Noyes’ father; and one Zsolt Ekjvater. Noyes reminisced about his father and grandfather. Both, he said sadly, had died from anemia apparently caused by hepatitis. He too had nearly succumbed but somehow fought off the infection and regained his strength. When asked about the third grave, Noyes paled.

“Better some things stay buried,” he said. “Better this ground never be disturbed.”

“What do you mean, Sir?” Sam asked.

“I am a superstitious man from the old country,” Noyes said with a sheepish smile. “I am forty years old and set in my ways. This land is, I fully believe, a good place for a mine. My father felt so too, and we would have followed his dream had he not died. But I feel the womenfolk of my family will be happier working a farm than a mine, and so I shall make haste to more fertile ground. The land here is workable but I have heard from a cousin that the land in the new territory shows great promise and beauty. Still, though I am but a superstitious old fool, I must offer words of caution. Out of kindness disturb not the graves of my kin. For the safety of the bodies and souls of all, disturb not the grave of Ekjvater. The souls of the good go to Heaven and the souls of the damned go to Hell. But when the damned have opened a doorway between Hell and earth, it sometimes takes extra measures to close the doorway again. If the sorcerer remains buried, your happiness shall flourish in this place.”

Jason and Sam believed that Istrodja was honest, if a little touched in the head. So they closed the deal on the sale of the property and celebrated with Istrodja who left before the break of dawn while the young men were sleeping off the prior night’s libation. Jason and Sam’s lucrative venture had just begun.

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Crown of Creation Chats

http://www.friendfeed.com/…f-creation

Two Crown of Creation meetings planned. Sunday April 26 from 6-7 PM and Monday April 27 from 5-6 PM. Both times are US Mountain (UTC-7)

The Crown of Creation is a chat room for creative spirits. Discussions of favorite authors/artists/movies, our creative processes, busting through writers' block, whatever floats your artistic boat!

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Meet Me in the Rest Room

http://www.friendfeed.com/…-rest-room

Chat planned for Tuesday April 21 from 5-6 PM US Mountain Time. (UTC-7)

The Rest Room is a general topics chat room. You can bring up anything you want, from the book to affiliate marketing to ??? It's a free-for-all! The only rule is courtesy.

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Distrukshun of the Inglish Langwije

The Cheesemeister had a tic in her eyes for hours after reading the announcement for the Easter Egg Coloring party at the Gerri Atrik Retirement Community, which contained this advice:

Where clothing suitable for working with dies.

WhoHub Interview

Lily Strange [lilystrange]
WRITING
What did you first read? How did you begin to write? Who were the first to read what you wrote?
I'm not sure how far back I should go with this, but as a very young child I was kind of precocious with reading. Not so with math, but that's a different story. The very first books that I actually learned to read were Dr. Seuss books at the age of four. That may not be particularly unusual, but I think that the fact that I started reading Edgar Allan Poe when I was six--and liked it, even though it sometimes gave me nightmares--might be a bit indicative of what inspired my enjoyment of the horror genre. My father was a professor of literature and this might somewhat explain my early reading habits. My first grade teacher was also very impressed with my writing and always encouraged me. She would ask me to help my classmates who were just learning to read and write.

What is your favorite genre? Can you provide a link to a site where we can read some of your work or learn something about it?
I actually like almost all genres, although its rare that I read romance. As for writing, I tend to prefer working with horror or comedy. The official website showcasing my published novel is http://www.lilystrange.com To read chapter samples, the best place is probably my E-Snips folder at http://www.esnips.com//web/MyChapters/ I do have a blog that is ostensibly for promoting the book, but it can wander off the beaten path and be more than a bit disorganized. However, should anyone wish to view it, they can find it at http://lostbeneaththesurface.blogspot.com

What is your creative process like? What happens before sitting down to write?
This probably isn't very helpful, but my creative process simply involves me saying "damn it all, I'm going to write now." My life is pretty chaotic and a fair bit busier than I'd like a lot of the time. I don't know how much this has to do with my being prematurely gray, but I'll go ahead and blame it on this.

What type of reading inspires you to write?
The classic horror novelists, such as Poe, Bierce, Lovecraft, and those works by Kipling that most people don't think of, but especially Stephen King. I've always appreciated the way he tells a story as if he was sitting down and telling his good friend all about the horrific experience that he had or witnessed. There is no arrogance with King's work. I've always tried to achieve that in my own writing, but can't be sure how well I've succeeded.

What do you think are the basic ingredients of a story?
The setting is important, the plot is important, but the characters make the story happen. Without interesting characters, a story remains only an intricate outline.

What voice do you find most to your liking: first person or third person?
It really depends on the story. I don't have a favorite between these.

What well known writers do you admire most?
Of the classic authors, I got to know Edgar Allan Poe when I was only six years old and have been a great fan of his work since that time. H.P. Lovecraft is the king of atmosphere, and I consider it a terrible shame that most people only know Ambrose Bierce for "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge." This is a fine tale, but many of his others are equally good if not better and deserve to be read and enjoyed and in fact learned from in many cases. I also enjoy the works of Christina Rossetti. I was inspired by her poem, "The Goblin Market," at a very young age. Sadly, I know less about Rossetti's life than I would like to. I do, however, know that Poe, Bierce, and Lovecraft all dealt with adversity in their lifetimes and I admire them for perservering in their craft in spite of the strikes against them. Poe, of course, suffered from severe depression. Bierce was a veteran of the Civil War, and his experiences inspired much of his work. Lovecraft was a sickly child and suffered from depression as well. Of contemporary writers, Stephen King has been my favorite for years, but there are others that I admire the works of. I enjoy Dean Koontz and Brian Lumley. I work in the health care field and thus have a fondness for Robin Cook's medical thrillers. And though this is a bit of a guilty pleasure, I enjoy the V.C. Andrews books. Melodrama and purple prose aren't all bad!

What is required for a character to be believable? How do you create yours?
A believable character has flaws. The only seemingly flawless characters that I have ever created are used in comedic writing and tend to be the butt of jokes. A character may just come to me out of nowhere, but often I am inspired by looking at photographs. It is less the physical appearance of the subjects of the photographs that inspires me than an attitude or emotion that may be expressed. Most of my major characters were inspired by real people, though it is rare that the person who initially inspired the finished character will be recognizable in that character. Beyond the primary inspiration, I let the character create him/herself.

Are you equally good at telling stories orally?
No. I stumble over my words and make a fool of myself. I'm much better in writing than I am in person. Though if I know my audience and am comfortable with them, I tend to be able to present them with my ideas better than I would with an audience of strangers.

Deep down inside, who do you write for?
Myself, I suppose. More specifically, for my younger self who had such big dreams. Although my works tend to be morality plays of sorts, and it is my hope that I can impart my message to my readers and thus somehow make a positive change in the world. I hope that doesn't sound tremendously arrogant.

Is writing a form of personal therapy? Are internal conflicts a creative force?
It is absolutely a form of personal therapy. When I was younger I used it to soothe the pain of being bullied at school. I resumed writing again after a number of years when my marriage started breaking up. I don't really end up incorporating stuff that happens in my life at this point because it's just too boring. I more tend to go back to ideas that I had previously and expand on them.

Does reader feed-back help you?
I actually tend to avoid reading reviews. The ones that I have read have been mostly positive and the negative points were voiced in a constructive way, so they were helpful. However, I am so sensitive to mean types of criticism that I could have ten good reviews, and if the eleventh were absolutely scathing, it would upset me for a month or more literally. So I do find constructive criticism helpful, but I am so very fearful of encountering the other kind that I tend not to seek feedback. This is probably a lousy attitude to have, but it's self-preservation.

Do you participate in competitions? Have you received any awards?
I generally do not participate in competitions and the only award I've received is the "Well You Finally Published it, A-Hole" award that I gave myself back in 2007. For whatever reason I did sign up to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. Because the material that I publish professionally is horror, the manuscript that I work on for them will be comedy. I don't really believe you can compete against anyone but yourself in the arts. Everyone's tastes are different. What one person enjoys another may despise. I don't have any need to be better than other people, just better than I was the last time.

Do you share rough drafts of your writings with someone whose opinion you trust?
This will sound strange, but my ex-husband is my editor and I do trust him to be an objective critic. I share them with him.

Do you believe you have already found "your voice" or is that something one is always searching for?
I think I've found it. If I haven't, I'll delude myself that I have. I'm old and tired. I don't have it in me to keep searching.

What discipline do you impose on yourself regarding schedules, goals, etc.?
I try to write at least one chapter a day at least four times a week. My "real life" schedule doesn't allow me to sit down and write for 12 hours at a go these days. I have to take it where I can get it.

What do you surround yourself with in your work area in order to help your concentrate?
Sorry, but I could die laughing at this question. I'm broke. My work area is the same dilapidated couch that I sleep on. I'm usually surrounded by cats. The walls in the ole trailer are thin and I always hear noise from outside. I have type II bipolar disorder, so concentration and me are something of polar opposites anyway. But if I have an idea and I get working on it, like Larry the Cable Guy said, I just Git 'R Done.

Do you write on a computer? Do you print frequently? Do you correct on paper? What is your process?
When I was younger I insisted that I would NEVER EVER EVER!!!!!!! work on a computer. Now its the only way that I do anything except jot down ideas. Things change. My process is to grab the laptop, put it on my lap, and Git R Done!

What sites do you frequent on-line to share experiences or information?
I have some blog friends. I also sound off (translate: rant) at my blogs, Creative Crabbing (http://amoeboidfungus.blogspot.com) and Lost Beneath the Surface (http://lostbeneaththesurface.blogspot.com) Other than that, I lurk about on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/people/Lily-Strange/1653291128 (...) ) and occasionally MySpace (http://www.myspace.com/bloomingpsycho)

What has been your experience with publishers?
They suck! That's mostly a joke, but seriously, I'm not the sort to paper my wall with rejection slips. I'm too old. I used a POD publisher, Outskirts Press. (http://theminiurl.com/ed50) I will be using them again for my forthcoming book.

What are you working on now?
The prequel to my current novel, Lost Beneath the Surface.

What do you recommend I do with all those things I wrote years ago but have never been able to bring myself to show anyone?
Whip 'em out and start working on them again! You never know--they could mushroom from a boring two-dimensional gothic romance into a previously unknown and utterly terrifying thing that has a life of its own... Well, that's what happened to mine, anyway. Seriously, get them out and look them over. Show someone you trust. Some of them may be fine the way they are. Others you might be able to work into something else. And then publish them. Life's too short to worry about who might think your work isn't "good enough." You have something to say, so say it. Life would be boring if only a certain kind of voice was ever heard.

Signs of the Apocalypse

This discussion, found on My Yearbook, lets me know the end (at least the end of sense) is nigh.

King vs. Meyer two of the most famous authors of today. Steven King and Stephanie Meyer. I, myself have read some of both their books, and honestly, i like them both. King's books are more sophisticated, but can be confusing/hard to read. Meyer's books are easy, romantic (some of King's are too), and capture you away in her story. so i wanna see who the public (of myyearbook) think of these two. so who do you like better and why? just leave me a post and lets chat. :D!

Comments:(5)

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Rachel's the fucked up chick you can't help but love

April 4, 3:57 PM

Meyer is pretty good, but she's not even in the same arena as King. King is a literary genius.... (more)

abigail armitage

April 4, 3:32 PM

right.
sometimes in King's books i get confused with the way he writes, but he's still amazin.

Sheena Johnson

April 4, 3:31 PM

I like both but to me it's easier for my imagination run wild with Meyer's books

crabbing

just posted "Jesus Hates Zombies/Lincoln Hates Werewolves Second Printing" :

http://ping.fm/QeRKu

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My Klingon Fan Base

http://www.google.com/search

Klingons love me! Check it out--I've got all the top spots on Klingon Google!

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crabbing

http://ping.fm/i5mrU

I will be in the Haunted Outhouse for the next hour if anyone cares to join me.

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crabbing

http://ping.fm/i5mrU Chat room for open minded types interested in the paranormal. Open 1hr tomorrow 6 PM MST.

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Section 1: Just Below the Surface

http://www.lilystrange.com/

Giving you another chapter from Section 1 of my book today. Why? Because I like you or something.



Just Below The Surface

July 13, 2009

Balthor, Ontario

Aldon Quay shuddered as he read the beautiful, eerie poem sent to him by his longtime friend and fellow author, Terry Bruckham. Terry was like a daughter to Aldon, and “Beneath the Surface” seemed an apt title for her as well as her latest creation. There was always something unspoken beneath the facade that Terry presented for the world. Aldon had known Terry since the time that she, at age 14, had written the then thirty-year-old author a letter praising his debut novel, Nightshade. He was impressed with his young fan’s intelligence and genteel yet forthcoming manner, and the pair had forged a friendship that had lasted a lifetime. Terry and Aldon both were now well-known novelists and, in 2007, they finally released their first collaboration to the delight of their readers, who thought that it was many years overdue.

Terry had always been prone to melancholy and had suffered several debilitating traumas over the years. Aldon hoped that things had settled down and that his friend could at last be happy and at peace. Aldon thought about Terry’s engagement to his second cousin, Elvin Barris. Both Elvin and Terry had previously endured long, unhappy marriages. It was good, Aldon thought, that two of his favorite people seemed to be making one another happy. But obviously, not everything was what it seemed.

In the email that the poem was attached to, Terry said she had an idea for a story. It would be a gothic romance interspersed with poetry accentuating the protagonist’s dark emotions. Terry thought that this poem should be the starting point. It certainly would work well in such a tale, Aldon agreed. It wasn’t the dark atmosphere of the poem that concerned him. He too usually wrote dark subject matter, though he was actually a reasonably happy fellow. A big bear of a man with dark red-brown hair liberally frosted with gray, Aldon sported a full beard and tended to favor checkered flannel shirts and jeans. He looked like a member of the logging crews that worked up the road from his farm and was far more jovial in manner than would seem to befit a famous horror novelist. But it wasn’t Aldon’s waking self who was inspired by sepulchral visions of rotting creatures who refused to die or malevolent spirits who destroyed the lives of those who accidentally invaded their territory. Rather, the visions came to the self who journeyed behind the walls of sleep and communed with the Gods and Goddesses and benevolent spirits who roamed the Elysian Fields and the gardens of Celephais and who gathered in Thoth’s library and Freya’s palace for grand festivals and intellectual discussions. For, in order to partake in such blessed events, one must also be prepared to defend against those who would bring ruin in a desire to subjugate all beings to their whim. Aldon’s gifts allowed him to see things that ordinary people could not perceive. And, he realized, most people would think him mad if he presented such things as real. Terry had inherited the same gifts. Like Howard Phillips Lovecraft and Ambrose Bierce before them, Aldon Quay and Terry Bruckham hid their real otherworldly adventures in the guise of fictional works.

“The truth is there for those aware” was a catch-phrase popularized in a series of light-hearted novels about a trio of reluctant Scandinavian monster-hunters, thinly disguised versions of three of Aldon’s real-life friends who also knew that not everything real was visible to the physical eye.

“’T’ain’t logical, McGee,” Aldon said quietly, exaggerating his slight Irish brogue. “But methinks perhaps logic be overrated.”

“Ah hell, Terry,” he sighed, switching the telephone nervously from hand to hand as he contemplated calling his friend. “How can I address my concerns about this to you without seeming callous about your feelings? Please, Angela Mia, don’t let this pain rip you apart. Heaven help me, what do I say to her?”

“Aldon?” his sister-in-law’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What is it, Hannah?” Aldon asked.

“Aldy, I’m so sorry to interrupt you,” she said. “But something awful is happening to my sheep. All of the lambs have fallen ill. It may be anthrax. Dr. Kippersoff and Will Wyzynski are quarantining them from the other animals. They want to test all my livestock and it could take them awhile. I know it’s been years since you took those veterinary courses, but I wonder if you could come help. They really have their hands full.”

“Sure, Hannah, I’ll be right there,” Aldon said, putting the phone back in its cradle. He scribbled himself a note which he understood completely but which anyone else might find cryptic and eerie:

Call Terry re: poem.

Have the dark dreams returned?

Aldon followed Hannah up the stairs, his worries about his friend temporarily pushed below the surface of this current concern.

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Talk about an odd auction

Asian Beauty Lily’s  Two Horror Books starting bid $3,000,000.00 dollars?



WHAT?  Is this for real?  Apparently it is and both auctions will end on May 30th.  The winning bidders will secure the rights to the books.    It seems like a scam but apparently she is trying to sell off details from her relationships with 2 well [...] <a href='http://cli.gs/vQ5G2a'>http://cli.gs/vQ5G2a</a>

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blue star, green comet

http://ping.fm/6Y0mK and more ...

http://ping.fm/BJqpO

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crabbing

I fear I may have to put working on the new book on hiatus for a month while finishing this semester. I am feeling like death warmed over.

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Poem: Lost Beneath the Surface

This is the lead-in poem for Section 1 in my published novel. It is ostensibly written by my protagonist.

http://www.lilystrange.com/



The One Who Waits Beneath the Surface



I hate the moon—I am afraid of it—for when it shines on certain scenes familiar and loved it sometimes makes them unfamiliar and hideous.

H.P. Lovecraft

“What the Moon Brings”



Beneath the Surface

Forgotten over the years

Pushed to the back of minds weighed down with mundane concerns

He waits in solitude for the day

When someone may remember, and keep him company



A chill wind blows from the north

Reminding one who lives along the shore

Of someone she held dear in time long past

Yet the thought is more a whisper than a shout



He feels the pain of being a promise broken

Yet still he abides behind the veil

A soul immortal cannot die

But can be buried by the wretchedness of anguish borne alone



He looks down upon the sea below his vantage point

And longs to be free of his boundless solitude

He extends his arms, and falling forward from the height, joins the sea birds in their flight

Twisting, wheeling, unafraid



The soul immortal cannot die

He touches surf and is drawn beneath the waves

The sun reflects off the surface of the water,

Revealing a dark, familiar shape below



Along another shore in a world far away

A woman feels a pang within her breast

She is weary and wishes she could sleep forever

And walk the shores of an eternal dream



Something lies beneath the surface of her memories

A treasure that she lost long ago

Someone who understood the unflagging sorrow

A breath inhaled and exhaled, lost forever



She will reach beyond the veil this night

And take the hand of the one who waits

Forgotten to the conscious mind that buries dreams beneath stacks of unpaid bills

Burdened by joys thrust aside in favor of unending toil



Some things cannot be explained away by logic

Tested away by science, prayed away by dogmatic religion

She has labored long and hard for futile gain

Happiness has waited long enough



Tonight she shall sail away to join the one who waits beneath the waves

To dwell on shadowed shores where the blinding light of the orthodoxy never reaches

She is weary of a world wherein to survive she must forget what she holds most dear

Tonight is her last night among the striving masses



Tonight at last he rises from the sea

To dwell forever in the shadows of a land

Created by the dark dreams of souls misunderstood

Never again shall he abide alone

For at last he has someone to dream with



Teresa Kathleen Bruckham

July 12, 2009

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crabbing

http://ping.fm/XxpS1 Latest Care2 Share describes my mission and gives links to ways you can help make it a reality

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crabbing

www.change.org/myfundraising/wfmhchange My drive to raise $500 for WFMH by the end of the year.

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Imooch

http://ad.vu/q2tb Check out my Mooch, another way to pimp the book, and find out about Imooch, a way to pimp your own work.

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crabbing

http://ping.fm/3fKnW Got something interesting and informative to say? Trade your intelligence for back links at Qassia!

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crabbing

http://ping.fm/8uQ5a

Poem from Section 1 featured at Quarterlife.

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crabbing

I don't know how they do it, but http://ping.fm/5usoP offers lots of online storage space, free. Back up your critical files.

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What Goes Around Comes Around

Moonlit Path gave me a reciprocal link so I'm spreading the love. Check them out! http://www.moonlit-path.com/

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Wendy's Writing article

http://www.squidoo.com/…tdidntwork

Check out the article and my responses.

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Prologue

http://www.lilystrange.com/

Prologue

Bringers of Decay and Fallen Angels:

A Genesis of Evil

Before the dawn of the world as we know it, the great Gods and Goddesses, angelic beings, devas, genii and nature spirits were born whole from the Wellspring of All, which is called Kether. They were created out of love to always tend and care for the beings who would be born on the developing worlds in the material universe. Yet while the Heavens were still taking shape, a group of these spirits began to believe that they knew more than the power that had created them. And some among the Gods and Goddesses came to care more about power than about the developing Universe over which they had been given stewardship. These wicked deities were cast out of the Heavens and the evil angels who followed them were also exiled. Swearing revenge on those who had spurned them, they began to seduce the minds of the developing children of the Universe that had been created out of love by the Lord and Lady of Kether.

On the developing worlds in the material universe which is called Assiah, many of the children began to assume a crude imitation of the higher beings who watched over them. Most followed the path of the Benevolent Ones who had created and guided them. But some followed the blighted path of those who promised power over others. These were filled with an unholy passion. Seeing the intensity of their emotions, the evil angels were intrigued. Some of them entered the bodies of these young beings, possessing them, controlling them. And over time, many of the fallen angels forgot that they had once been celestial beings, but subconsciously remembered the power they once held and their former immortality. Desperate to re-achieve that once immortal status and break free from the cycle of reincarnation, they heeded the voices of their former companions, the unholy deities of corruption and decay. The Fallen committed horrific acts under the direction of their immortal, unholy masters, giving rise to a race of Undead, a perverted offspring of incarnate mortals and fallen angels and a mockery of the Divine. Thus have vampires existed since the dawn of humanity. The first are rumored to have come from the lost continent of Lemuria, which formed a land bridge between the Malay Archepelago and Asia some 55 million years ago. The late medium Madame Helena Blavatsky spoke of a race of highly intelligent apelike humanoids who were capable of mind control and telepathy. Most people laugh at Blavatsky’s assertions; but there are those who know better.

In the time of Lemuria, a group of these beings sought to dominate the other early humanoids, believing themselves to be superior. They saw the other humans as lower than herd animals and treated them with a contempt and brutality. Inspired by the telepathic communications from hideous ancient gods mercifully forgotten in this modern age, the Superior Race enslaved and experimented on the lesser beings, sacrificed them, and consumed their flesh at ritual celebrations. They were especially fond of eating the brain and heart and drinking the blood, as they believed consuming the brain would enhance their own telepathic abilities, the heart would bring them strength, and the blood would lengthen their lives. As the dreaded ancient Gods, horrible beings far older than the earth itself promised, the Superior Race changed swiftly. From consuming the brains of the other humanoids and ancient dolphin-like sea mammals, their telepathic abilities increased tenfold. From consuming animals such as the wolflike creatures that walked the night they experienced improvement in their night vision so drastic that daylight began to hurt their eyes and they preferred to be out after dusk. And from consuming these wolf-kind and other strong animals, their strength multiplied to ten times that of the lesser hominids. For their obedience to the terrible Great Old Ones, their lifespan increased to the point of virtual immortality. Thus were the Vampires born.

The benevolent deities were horrified by what was happening on the young Earth. They smote the evil race, destroying the continent of Lemuria to stop their spread. But some Night Stalkers managed to escape. They slowly spread their taint wherever they settled, though their race no longer held the mastery it had in Lemuria. The survivors vowed to regain mastery of the Earth even if it should take an eternity. This is the story of a pair of these immortals and those whose lives they touched. They were brothers, princes and heirs to the throne of a long and unjustly forgotten kingdom, a province in what is now Romania at the time of the reign of the family Dracul in Wallachia. Called Stracha, it sat by the sea near Moldavia and Wallachia and was a place hailed for its beauty, prosperity and the benevolence of its rulers. It is also the tale of an ancient and fearsome being who brought the plague of immortality to these princes, casting fair Stracha into undeserved oblivion. Long-lived though this being was, he was a mere babe compared to those who had bestowed upon him the curse of immortality, and they were but infants compared to the ancient undying evil that had spurred their creation.

The vampire race was perfected as the human race evolved and new civilizations arose. Beloved were they of the powerful but lesser-known malevolent deities warned of by Howard Phillips Lovecraft and others in tales thought to be fiction. Kali, merciless Indian goddess of death, helped increase the power of those who made sacrifices to her. In Egypt, the cunning and manipulative Set took up their cause. In Mesopotamia the cult rose to power again when Lamashtu gave them newfound glory through blood sacrifice. But this rise to greatness truly began anew in lost Atlantis where the race almost achieved world domination. This is why the benevolent Gods had to destroy Atlantis as they had Lemuria. Many lives were lost on that fateful day, many who loved one another were separated.

But the wheel of reincarnation shall ever turn. None of those souls that lived in lost Atlantis were destroyed in that calamity. With successive incarnations the calamity that ended their physical existence in that lifetime was consciously forgotten. But late at night many lifetimes later the more enlightened of them would dream of that fearsome event and would wake in a cold sweat.

This book occurs near the end of a story of a great battle for the souls of this world. This is a story of love and loss, of triumph and destruction, and of the knowledge that nothing in this world will last forever. It is a story of the fear of death, the pain of betrayal and the triumph of the eternal soul. It is a story of ties that cannot be severed, kindnesses that cannot be forgotten, longing that cannot die. But souls are not of this world. They shall never die. Within each soul is a limitless capacity for love. Each being was created with love by a benevolent source. The love within us can never die. The soul is eternal and love is eternal.

This is, if you will, a love story.

Thoth, Scribe of the Holy

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New Plan for Story Promo

I'd been doing just sentences and paragraphs on Utterli but think I'll do full chapters instead. As Mehitibel would say, Ohwhatthehell.

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Chronological Sentence from prologue

And over time, many of the fallen angels forgot that they had once been celestial beings, but subconsciously remembered the power they once held and their former immortality.

http://www.lilystrange.com/

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Write, Durn Ye!

Well, I'd best work on a chapter before my co-author lays an ass whuppin' on me.

Only joking. He's never done anything of the sort. The worse he does is mess with my hair. And since I'm hardly the perfectly coiffed type, this is far from a big deal.

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Beevities Tilson

WTF, you may be asking? I know I was when I got this word verification!

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Chronological sentence from book prologue

http://www.lilystrange.com/ Some of them entered the bodies of these young beings, possessing them, controlling them.

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The Rest Room is Open

I know it's short notice, but my Friendfeed chat room, the Rest Room http://friendfeed.com/…-rest-room will be open tonight (January 30) until midnight Mountain time (MST) if anyone wants to drop in. I considered making an announcement and opening it from 8 to 9 tonight, but its a good thing I didn't. I ended up falling asleep about 5 this afternoon and slept till 9.

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A Quickie with Stephen King!

Not really, but the title was provocative, no? Duma Key is not a quick read. But it is a damn good read! This is my review from Goodreads.

Duma Key by Stephen King

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
Isn't there a better rating than 5? Because this book shows why Stephen King is and always will be The King of Horror. He was at his best when he wrote these, inspired by horrors from the Other Side, to be certain! If you have never read Stephen King, this one will make you a devotee!


View all my reviews.

Shameless Self Promotion Done Shamelessly

Just a copy of what I posted in the Shameless Self-Promotion group on Shelfari. Because I'm kind of OC that way.

Although I'm actually a very self-effacing (and self-depricating) person, I love the hell out of shameless self promotion when it comes to my book.
To find out more, visit my site at http://www.lilystrange.com to find out more.
No, I was not particularly creative in creating that URL.
If you want sweetness and light, ordinary subject matter, and a complete avoidance of controversial subjects, avoid this book like the plague.
I actually reviewed my own book here on Shelfari. I don't know if that's kosher or not, but I'm not particularly worried about it since I rarely do anything according to protocol. It is on my shelf. I'm trying to figure out how to add it to the group shelf but can be kind of a tech-tard, so don't be particularly surprised if I never figure out how.
This book is not a particularly easy read. The sentence structure is straightforward enough, but it is actually a group of short stories that piece together to make one long story. I like to think of it as organized chaos. Something like the structure of the universe itself.
I'm not actually arrogant enough to compare my literary creations to the magnificence of the universe. But I do in truth think of the universe as organized chaos and the chapter structure does follow my vision of the universe, and not only the physical universe. There are an infinite number of creatures all existing in conjunction with one another, yet completely separate. And the circumstances of even the lowliest of these is critical and magnificent, capable of affecting the fate of all other things, and yet at the same time is of no importance at all on the cosmic scale.
I've actually had mostly positive reviews of the book, with one exceptional thing standing out. Everyone despises the cliffhanger ending. Well, there is another one in the offing, due out in 2010 if all goes well. And there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth on that day.
If you are the philanthropic type, you will appreciate the fact that 50% of the profits from the book (the portion that would have gone to my co-author if he were among the land of the living) go to the World Federation for Mental Health. You can find out more about my drive to raise a million bucks in my lifetime for WFMH, and about their mission, by going here. http://www.changingthepresent.org/drives/show/1675
Or you can join the cause on Facebook.
http://apps.facebook.com/causes/190050?m=611088da&recruiter_id=39435033
Thanks for letting me self-promote. And shamelessly.

Million Monkeys Snippet

A Snippet from the Choose Your Own Adventure Story on 1,000,000 Monkeys Typing.

Wait For The Flames
Realizing that there is nowhere to run, nowhere to escape, you wait for the flames to engulf you. Expecting excruciating pain, you are surprised to instead see the room fading around you as the flames lick about you painlessly. Grateful at least for a seemingly painless death, you fall into a faint. When you awaken, you are lying on the bed in a somewhat shabby hotel room. You look about, trying to determine where you are, but nothing gives any immediate clues. Taking a moment to consider your options, you notice that there is a telephone, a television, and a door leading out of the hotel room.
Do you:
Call the front desk and talk to the clerk to determine what hotel you're in?
Turn on the television to see what you can determine?
Leave the room?

Chronological sentence for 20 January 2008

Seeing the intensity of their emotions, the evil angels were intrigued.

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Imooch Addition

http://www.imooch.com/…chs-legacy Added another chapter for Imooch. Imooch is a new service that allows you to show your work and possibly earn tips of $1 at a time. Currently signing up for the service is free. It will eventually become $6 for each entry. $1 goes to the service and you have $5 to tip other people.

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Correction

http://www.openzine.com/…rangeworld Mistake on the original link to the zine. Sorry about that, y'all

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Got something to say?

http://jobkiller.qassia.com/ Share your articles, stories, poems, rants, and well-written promotions on Qassia and earn links to your own blog or website.

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Chronological sentence for 18 January 2009

"But some followed the blighted path of those who promised power over others. These were filled with an unholy passion." (Today's chronological sentence from my novel Lost Beneath the Surface.)

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Chapter: Just Below the Surface

http://www.quarterlife.com/…he-surface Read Just Below the Surface on Quarterlife and check out my portfolio

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My backpack

I'm studying nursing--out of necessity rather than desire. It might make a few more dollars and give some job security. I've actually been having nightmares about going back this semester.

I prefer to think I'm a writer, and even though it's not made me much money, I do have a published book.

Getting old and curmudgeony does tend to make one flinty! ;-)

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Story sentence selection January 15 2009

On the developing worlds in the material universe which is called Assiah, many of the children began to assume a crude imitation of the higher beings who watched over them.

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New Chapter in E-Snips Folder

http://www.esnips.com/…MyChapters Extra chapter from my book for you today in my Esnips folder. Why? Because I like you!

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The Crown of Creation

http://adjix.com/ae6a Creative types: if interested, please join me tonight at 9 PM mountain time for the first meeting of the Crown of Creation Club by clicking the Adjix link. This is an informal club for artistic individuals and supporters to encourage and help one another, offering brainstorming to break through creative blocks, CONSTRUCTIVE critique of each others work, places to promote our various efforts, and hopefully a bit of fun. It doesn't matter what sort of artistic work you do or if you're "only" a supportive admirer, you're welcome to come on down. The meeting will last for an hour. Hope to see a few of you there. This is my first time trying to run a chat room, so exercise patience with my noobness!

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My Mini-Zine

http://www.openzine.com/…rangeworld My first issue of my mini-zine was just uploaded. It may not be pretty, but it's got personality!

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Facebook Cause: Drive for WFMH

http://apps.facebook.com/…ses/190050

Please join my drive to raise money and awareness for the World Federation for Mental Health.

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Joe Popular

http://adjix.com/35rz Try Joe Popular a fun social network that lets you showcase your websites and yourself.

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World War I History Site

http://TwitPWR.com/…WIhistory/ If you study history for whatever reason, I highly recommend this comprehensive site of World War I history.

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Imooching

This is a new service where you can put your work on the line and potentially earn tips. So far I haven't, but it's a way to promote your work. These are my mooches:

http://www.imooch.com/…he-surface

http://www.imooch.com/…he-surface

You may have already seen these works, but check them out in this format if you like!

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Imooch

http://ad.vu/q2tb Check out my Mooch, another way to pimp the book, and find out about Imooch, a way to pimp your own work.

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Chronological sentence for January 4 2009

Swearing revenge on those who had spurned them, they began to seduce the minds of the developing children of the Universe that had been created out of love by the Lord and Lady of Kether.

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New Strange Blather

http://newstrangeblather.yonkly.com/ Creative, mystical, and open-minded folks: you can cross-post from my microblog, New Strange Blather, to Twitter. Increase your exposure for your thoughts and products even more! Plus find support from like-minded people.

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