I told you I was doing Writing 101 in random order, didn’t I? Anyway, the point of the assignment to go to a cafe, park, or a public place and write something that is inspired by what I see. There’s a catch, I cannot use any adverb. Continue reading “Writing 101: Death to Abverb” →
Today’s prompt asks: Write a summary of the book you’ve always wanted to write for the back cover of its dust jacket. Continue reading “A Quick Synopsis” →
The assignment is to write about a fear, anxiety, or worry. The twist is to write it in a style that is distinctive from my own. I’m not exactly sure what other styles there are to writing but I’m going to try my best. Continue reading “Writing 101: Your Personality on the Page” →
Today’s prompt is way way way too similar to the one I did on March 23 that it’s practically identical. If you wish to read my response, it’s right here. Therefore I’m going to do Writing 101 instead. The assignment is to write a story about my most prized possession. Continue reading “Writing 101: The Things We Treasure” →
People say childhood are the best years of a person’s life. Continue reading “Writing 101: Happy Fast Food” →
The assignment is to write a post based on the compare and contrast of two things. This is also a response for today’s prompt: Pick a letter, any letter. Now, write a story, poem, or post in which every line starts with that letter. Continue reading “Writing 101: Give and Take” →
Today’s prompt asks: When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are. Describe this new you. Continue reading “Unpredictable Transformation” →
I recently began to compile all the short stories I have written into a mini-collection. There’s almost enough there for me to turn it into a book. So who knows, it might be my first published work. I even already have a title for it, “A Light in the Dark: A Collection of Short Stories”.
So is a blurb really necessary? Because I know that most people nowadays read ebooks. At least I can’t remember when was the last time I picked an actual book. Also there’s no book jacket in ebooks. So what’s the point?
But since that’s what today’s prompt asks, I might as well write something. Enjoy. 🙂
So here’s the gist…
I believe at some point, everyone experience sadness, darkness, misery, you name it. It all just depends on when. This collection of short stories is about my fantasy and life. A few years ago, I went through a period of misery, sadness, and anger. I lost my interest in school and life. I watched the days just slide on by.
One day, I decided to get over it, to shine a light in all of this darkness. What did I do? I closed my eyes and whisked myself to another world. Then all of a sudden, a part of my fantasy came to life.
It was hard to believe that a few months ago when I peeked into my files that I discover I have written so many short stories. I am so excited to be able to share such collection with you and I hope you enjoy my short stories as much as I enjoyed writing it.
No one was fated to spend a life in such a small space, especially not these brothers, just barely getting by, dependent on its caretakers to feed and bathe them. The book, Temporary Home, chronicles the brothers’ daily life and reading their story will bring you to tears.
Temporary Home begins in the brothers’ early days when they had spent in an aquarium. They had many great friends but somehow their friends would disappear now and then. Their then-caretaker told them he had found a great home for their friends. On that fated day, their future caretaker, a girl with long silky black hair and glasses approached the tank. “Which do you like?” Their caretaker had asked the girl.
The girl pointed at the brothers and at that moment, they knew the girl would be their new home. The moment they arrived at their new home, the girl fed them pellets she had bought at the store, just three. The brothers ate hungrily and after that eyed the container of pallet, wanting more but their owner had stopped caring for them.
A few months later, the brothers were passed onto their owner’s friends while their owner went on vacation. The brothers’ life at the friends were even worse. They spent day after day, almost drowning in their urine and feces.
A few months later, the brothers were once again passed onto another. This time, a lady and a girl. At first glance, the brothers knew they would be the same as the friends but at the same time, they knew this would be different. They were right.
Their new caretakers made sure they were well-fed, clean, and warm. This was the best home they ever had but they knew this is not forever. Eventually, they would have to return to their lives of starvation and misery.
My review: five out five stars, definitely.
I love the personification of this book. The author portrait the turtle brothers like real people. Reading it the first time, you can never tell whether it was talking about the life of a person or animals. The brothers seemed so real.
It definitely made me cry, alright especially the part of the brothers not getting enough to eat. I felt so bad for them. No one should be starved. So yes, I will definitely recommend this book even if it’s not written.
Okay, I’m going out of order here so I can catch up with this week’s writing 101 assignments. This is Day 9’s assignment. I hope you will enjoy my bit of flash. 🙂 Continue reading “Writing 101: Point of View” →
I do not know her. We have never met before. Continue reading “Writing 101: A Character-Building Experience” →
In 2006, I was given a fresh start. I had moved to a new city, new state, new home, new school. For the first time, I got to choose my classes, not the other way around. I finally got to be in classes I would have never thought I could like web design and choir. Continue reading “Socializing is Not for Me” →
Today’s prompt asks: A hundred years from now, a major museum is running an exhibition on life and culture as it was during our current historical period. You’re asked to write an introduction for the show’s brochure. What will it say? Continue reading “The Museum of New Ages” →
I feel like a kid answering this prompt. You get to design your own planet: tell us all about your planet — the weather, the seasons, the inhabitants. Go.
My planet would be similar to Earth except it wouldn’t have any of the danger like earthquakes, drought, tsunami, etc. It would have California weather, perfect everyday and no sudden shift in temperature. There would be rain, definitely. I will not have drought on my planet. Rain would ensure harvest each year.
There would also be snow up at the higher elevations so there would be variety instead of sunshine all the time. 
So I have mountains, plains, cities, what am I missing? Of course, water! There got to be lakes, rivers, and reservoirs, not to mention oceans and beaches. If I design a planet, I might as well go all the way. There would be pristine beaches with water like the Caribbean except it’s calm. Like I said, the weather danger of Earth does not exist on this marvelous planet.
Last by not least, the inhabitants. Hmm, that’s an interesting question. No gangs! I grew up in a horrible neighborhood in the suburbs of Los Angeles where thieves, vandals, and other horrible people ran around freely damaging other people’s properties. Sure, there can be bullies but I will not have those people ruin this beautiful planet I’ve designed.
The prompt for Day 5 of Writing 101 have us write about an encounter when we stumble upon a letter. Please note that this is completely fiction. Continue reading “Writing 101: Be Brief” →
I hate it and dread it every year. Will someone pull a prank on me? Will someone prank me so hard that my chest pound and I have to watch my back the entire freaking day? Will I get hurt? I might be able to stand pain but I hate to get hurt. Continue reading “So Not a Fan” →
Head throbbing, throat aching, voice going coarse, and my bottle of anger is full again.
My weekend was crappy, worse than usual but I’m not going to complain. I’m going to let it out another way, a story. I’ve weaved my crappy weekend into a tale between two roommates, Leslie and Sarah. First, I should apologize for this incredibly long post (I can’t help it) but anyway, enjoy the dramatic tale. 🙂
Leslie sat before her computer on a Saturday morning, studying for an afternoon exam. After more than 6 months, she still hadn’t adjusted to fact that she had to find her own time to complete the exams for her classes. At least this one’s open-book, open-notes, she thought happily. She wouldn’t had to go through the tedious process of making a half-page note-card.
By noon, her stomach was growling. She often skips breakfast to save time on studying. So she quickly went to the pantry, pulled a ramen from a plastic bag with her name on it, and popped it into a bowl. She dumped the tiny bag of soup mix, added the water, and popped it into the microwave. By the time she finished with her ramen, she heard a click of the locks. Sarah was home.
“Hey, Les, can you help me with these groceries?” Sarah was carrying at least six bags of food.
Leslie took four bags and hurried to the kitchen. “What are you trying to do? Feed an army?” She dropped the bags on the counter.
“They’re for both of us, duh.” Even then, it would be too much. Leslie went to the sink and clean up while Sarah put her purse on the chair. “Listen, I need your help with something.”
“What?” Leslie asked as she wiped her hands dry.
“I have this paper due Monday and I’m wondering if you can help me since, well, your writing is better mine.”
“What is it on?” Leslie asked quickly.
“It’s a research paper, 6-9 pages. I don’t know what’s on yet. The instructor wasn’t clear.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait. I have to go take the exam.”
“Then go,” Sarah replied. “We can talk about it when you get home.”
Three hours later, Leslie finally came home. The exam took much longer than she had thought. It was 24 questions on 30 pages and each question took forever to complete. Tired but still full of energy, she knocked on Sarah’s door and almost instantly, Sarah wrenched the door open, shoving a paper in Leslie’s face.
“You see this?” Sarah shrieked. Leslie grabbed the paper and looked at it carefully. It was the rubric for the assignment. “It makes completely no sense! He doesn’t explain anything. He just gives the assignment and expects us to understand it at a snap of a finger.”
“The paper said to pick four or more variables affecting the operating environment. What kind of operating environment?” Sarah led her to her laptop sitting on the desk and showed her a PowerPoint presentation on Argentina. “What does Argentina have to do with anything?”
“He assigns us each a country and we’re supposed to apply the variables.”
Leslie frowned. “I don’t know. What do you want me to do exactly?” Sarah handed her an index card. On it are the words, “political, military, economics, social, information, infrastructure.”
“These are the things I need you to research and write about. I will write the rest.” She switched the screen to a word document. “It’s all formatted. All you have to do is fill in the information.”
By then, Leslie only vaguely understood the assignment. “And why can’t you do this yourself?”
“Do I look like I have the time to do both?” Sarah snapped and Leslie threw her hands up and retreated to her room. “I want this done by tomorrow.” Sarah called as Leslie shut the door to her bedroom, she leaned against the door for a minute and sighed.
Sarah always does this, wait until the last minute and just snaps her fingers. Just like that, Leslie to the rescue. She was like one of those nerds that does bully’s homework. Leslie went to her computer and opened the file Sarah had just sent her over dropbox.
That night, to decompress from the long exam, Leslie decided to watch a few shows on TV. She’s already had two pages completed. Lounging on the living room couch, Sarah joined her. “So, roomie, have you completed my paper yet?”
“Not yet, almost though.” Leslie replied.
“May I make some suggestions though?” Leslie nodded. “Focus more on how each variable affect the environment.” Leslie wasn’t exactly listening but Sarah kept blathering on. If you want me to do your assignment, don’t tell me what to write. I have my own methods. She thought.
Leslie screamed when she opened her eyes the next morning to find Sarah hovering above her. “What are you doing?”
“It’s 8, time to get up.” Leslie glanced over at her alarm clock, it was only 7:30. She moaned and sank her head back on her pillow. “Come on, Les, I want it done by 10 am. You do want to have time to do you own thing, don’t you?”
She went to the window and opened the blinds, the light streaming into the room made Leslie shrank and curled. Leslie groaned. “Fine, I’m up!” Leslie stumbled out of bed over to her computer. She yawned and clicked open the file. It looked like Sarah had updated it, she added a few more sections and miraculously, it was completed.
Groggily, she made her way to the kitchen to scour the fridge for breakfast. She settled with a yogurt and ate it over the sink, her head was still throbbing from the blast of sunlight. She stumbled back into her room and sat before the computer, the words blurred and the more she read, the more it was becoming more puzzling.
“Is it done yet?” Leslie jumped, suddenly realizing Sarah was behind her. Had she been watching me this whole time? Leslie wondered. This was beginning to feel like Sarah’s got a gun to her head forcing her to write.
“Almost.” Leslie answered.
“Almost?!” Sarah shrieked. “It’s been two hours!”
Leslie rubbed her temples and said tiredly. “I’m doing the best I can. It’s not that easy, you know.”
“Hurry up,” Sarah snapped. “I’ve been waiting on you all morning and you can’t even write two paragraphs? I am way faster than that.”
Leslie bolted up, “Fine, then write it yourself. I’m tired of your bossing around. My head hurts, I’m not in the mood.”
“Fine!” Sarah screamed. “I don’t need your help. I will write it myself.”
“Fine!” Leslie shouted back and pushed Sarah from her room and locked her room. They didn’t exchange a single word the remainder of the day. Leslie worked on her own homework. Now and then, she could hear Sarah rehearsing in her room, always the same line and this is how their story ends (for now) because do stories ever end?
Last week, I was surprised and amazed when I received a ping-back from Izzy of Izzy-grabs-life. Izzy has nominated me for the Blog Tour Award! I didn’t even know such award existed, I’m so honored.
WHAT ARE YOU WORKING ON AT THE MOMENT?
I’m currently working on my homework. Ha ha, just kidding, I’m taking a break from my cost accounting homework.
Um, at the moment, I’m actually about half-way done with what-I-think is a short-story but it’s turning into a novelette. I’m think probably another 3000 words on top of the current 4800 should do it. It’s a rewrite and it used to be called “The Forgotten” but I think the title’s a little lame. So I’m coming with a new title at the moment.
HOW DOES YOUR WORK DIFFER FROM OTHERS IN YOUR GENRE?
Honestly, I do not know. We all get our inspiration somewhere, whether be TV shows or movies or books. I pull ideas for my stories from those places but at the time, I would try to add something different, my own touch but I suppose, in a way, my work can be comparable to others in my genre.
WHY DO YOU WRITE OR CREATE WHAT YOU DO?
My head is filled with pictures and ideas. Every time, I watch a TV show or a movie or read a book, I instantly get pictures, pictures that once I lose them, I am not getting them back. Since I am not an artist (I can’t even draw a car right), I choose words as my medium. So writing is really my way of painting those mental pictures. The paper is my canvas, as some would say, and I’m painting it with words.
HOW DOES YOUR WRITING/CREATIVE PROCESS WORK?
Well, like I said, I get pictures and I just writing it down as to artist painting the canvas. I don’t exactly have a process. I just get these flashes in my head and as soon as I get them, I would jog them down somewhere, anywhere, be it an existing story or a new story. Otherwise, it will feel like what Maya Angelou says.
However for the flash fiction challenges and prompts, it’s different.
It is my pleasure to nominate the following individuals:
I am looking forward to hear about everyone’s creative process!
Seriously???
Telling jokes have been one of my biggest weakness ever since like the dawn of time. I am simply incapable of telling a good joke. Even when I was in Toastmasters and I had to stand before everybody to tell a joke because I was chosen to be the Jokemeister of the meeting. I’d recite my joke and silence would ensue. I could hear cricket chirping in the background.
I don’t even get the joke, why should they? After all, I had forgotten my task and left it to the last minute to scour the web for a good joke.
Anyway, I am not even going to try to tell a joke today. Instead, I’m going to resurrect one of my old humorous tales from way back in my archives.
By the way, I didn’t know this until last week but I have published over 500 posts! Of course, those include the ones I imported from the other blog as well but still, I wrote each and every one. Over 500! Wow, I’ve certainly never expect to get this far. Anyway, enough chitchat, here it is…
Have you ever seen that car commercial where the little boy sits in the backseat asking all kinds of questions? Like, why can I see the sky or why is my butt hot?
Well, Michael is one and the same. He is 10 and one curious boy. When he began elementary school at the age of 7, out of nowhere, questions would start popping from nowhere. After that, everyday, right after he got into his mom’s car after school, questions would start flying. At first, his mom was just ecstatic about her son’s curiosity. “That the way kids learn these days.” She told herself but after three years of enduring Michael’s ridiculous questions, she had just about enough.
One night, right after his mom tucked him to bed. She leaned in and said, “Now, give mama a kiss goodnight.”
Michael frowned and shook his head, “I can’t, kissing you means I kissed a girl.” His mom looked at him, confused. “Mrs. Rachel says we are not allowed to kiss any girl until we are 16.”
“Now, kissing mommy does not mean kissing a girl. Now give me a peck on the cheek.” Michael obeyed. He lifted his head and kissed his mom’s cheek. “Now, go to bed.”
She walked to the door and was about to switch off the lights when Michael asked, “Why, mommy?”
“Why do you have to go to bed? Because you have school tomorrow.” His mom automatically answered, tired.
“No, why we are not allow to kiss any girl until we are 16?”
“Uh, uh,” His mom stammered before she thought of a great answer, “uh, why don’t you ask Mrs. Rachel tomorrow? Now, you need to go to sleep.” She switched off the lights and shut the door and took a giant breath of relief.
Today, daily prompt has asked an intriguing question. What is Love? What is Love, by the way?
Here’s the ending to my fiction/non-fiction retell of my first crush. I think it’ll answer the question by itself. Happy Saturday.
We grew closer and closer to each other, in a playful kind of way, of course. In P.E., we jogged together and sometimes, when I was tired, we’d walk. Although neither of us would admit it, I can tell he likes me. If he didn’t, then he’d ditched me long ago, in eighth grade, perhaps.
It was very sweet and I’ve never felt sweet before. I knew it wouldn’t last. Nothing ever lasts with me. I was dead on. Everything came crashing down in a landslide that afternoon when I arrived home to find suitcases lying all over the living room floor.
“What’s going on?” I’d asked.
“We’re going to China!” My step-dad had announced excitedly. He had never been out of the country before.
“What?” I’d shrieked and Cindy had stood beside me, frozen. “When?”
“Next week.” My step-dad’d answered.
“What about school?” He stared at me, surprised. Since when are you so concerned with school? His look had told me. I tried hard not to show that I want to go to school just to see Jaime, it would tell them I have a boyfriend and they’d made it crystal clear I’m not to have a boyfriend. I changed the subject. “Why all of the sudden?”
“Your mom got a great deal a few months ago.”
“And you didn’t bother to tell me this until now?”
He’d shrugged. “We forgot.”
“But if we go, then I’d be way behind in school when we get back.”
“Oh, you won’t be go to school. We’re also moving to Texas.” My jaw had literally dropped. They’ve been talking about moving to Texas all through my middle school years and now when I’ve found my happiness, they decided to do it?
The following week would be brutal and sad. I told Jaime I was moving to Texas, he had replied, “That’s okay, we have plenty of tools we can use to stay in touch.” Who was he kidding? My parents monitored everything, who I call, who I talk to at school. We could never stay in touch.
Then we just drifted apart. He no longer wanted to be near me now that he knew I was moving and I was left to walk the lap alone in P.E., running my fingers along the chain-link fence that separated the school from the outside. At lunch, he’s nowhere to be seen and I was left to eat with Cindy and Anna. I felt alone and betrayed. If he’d liked me, he’d stick by me no matter what. If he’d liked me, he wouldn’t leave me just sitting here or walking laps alone.
That Thursday, the day we’re supposed to go to China, I spent my morning checking out of my classes and the school, returned everything that belonged to the school, and retrieved my belongings from my gym locker. Through that morning, somehow, I felt like a part of me was holding out for Jaime, hoping we’d get a few more minutes together before I leave for good but no, I never saw him again.
I told you we are going back today, didn’t I? This picture was taken on December 21, 2001 and it brings back great memory when I look at it. Continue reading “Five Photos – Five Stories Day 5” →
We are once again going back in time. Continue reading “Five Photos – Five Stories Day 4” →
Daily Prompt: Take a subject you’re familiar with and imagine it as three photos in a sequence. Tackle the subject by describing those three shots. Continue reading “An Unforgettable Sunday” →
This is Another Story