Let's Fly Together grab my button Used only as a link on your blog Not to be used in any other form
Join Houston Havens' VIP Lounge
Houston Havens Secrets
All I Want and More Books
I contributed to a RUNNING STORY over at "The Porch"
Come read what Miss Houston and Mister Valance are into next, from sweet romance to robbing bank in the wild wild west...where everyday it's something. So grab a bottle of whiskey and take a seat in one of the rockers and enjoy or join in the fun! Just click on the photo it will take you to Mr. Valance's Porch.
Visit "The Porch" and become a character or just enjoy the running story.
Is the Reality You Don't see
Is Just Another Part of Our Reality
Ah, I just love this little guy, Thank you Cecile.
Awesome Award from my Friend
Isn't he beautiful.
This Blog's header, footer, signature card at end of post and buttons have been specially designed by Designs Sapphired Dreams for the private and sole use by Houston A.W. Knight. Any copy and or use of any of the graphics from this site is illegal.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
You had to ask and get me brain going again, didn't ya'?
O.K., Blame Natasch for this posting! Last weeks post on how our moods affect our writing she asked, "I'm curious now, to see if other people who read the same manuscript had the same experience with it, was something said about that?"
Now ya' all know me...if ya' going to asked a question I'm gonna find the answer...so here we go. I wrote two vignette endings to two story last year in a Romance Bandits contest...read them and then tell me what mood I was in when I wrote each of them. Let's see if you all can pick up on the mood or me as the person behind the words I wrote.
Will you all come out of this feeling the same thing, or will some of you pick up on one thing and others another? Was I angry when I wrote one? Was I happy or stressed? Is there an underlying mood to my writing...what do you see between these lines? Does my private persona as a being come through in my writing? Or have I managed to detach myself from the story so all you feel and read are my Hero's emotions?
Let's find out.
#1 The room was empty. No mutt, no Drew. The entire room had been cleaned out. Just a single chair sat in the middle of the floor. A lawn hose stretched threw an open window. It was curled up on the floor near the chair. It looked like an interrogation area. An interrogation with all purposes of not turning out too well for the one being interrogated. “Care to have a seat.” Drew’s deep sexy voice asked from the doorway behind me.
#2 “May I be of Assistance?” Colt shot a smile at the angelic looking bride in the white gown. Derek sat up taller in the passenger’s seat. A tremble passed through his body. The bride had a Nicole Kidmen paleness to her beauty. Her gown was clean but old, must be her grandmother’s hand-me-down. It creeped him out, though he knew it shouldn’t. Lots of brides got married in their mother’s gowns…a tradition, some say. A tradition he never cared for.
She seemed to float over to the front of the car. “Please, I’d be so grateful.”
“Where you heading?” Colt asked.
“I’m late for my wedding. Can you take me there?” She headed for the passenger’s side.
Reluctantly, Derek opened his car door and slid out, tosses a warning glance at Colt; this was going to be trouble.
“Ah, sure.” Colt nodded. “What church?”
“The Little White Chapel, in Las Vegas.”
“Just the way we’re heading. Get in.”
“Colt!” Derek jumped out of the bride’s path as she passed. A sudden chill in the desert air stood the hairs on his arm. The sensation of cockroaches climbing up his back made him swipe at the nape of his neck. He hissed over the car as the woman disappeared into the front seat. “Don’t you think this is odd? We’re three hours from there and she’s standing out here all alone in a wedding dress?”
“Shut up and get in. We both might get lucky before the ride is done.”
Derek slumped in beside the bride as Colt released the brake and head south. “So,” Derek glanced at her with his side vision. She appeared normal but she smelled like dirt. “Don’t mind my asking…how’d you get all the way out here? I didn’t see a house or car anywhere.”
The bride turned and looked at him with soft blue eyes. He shivered. It was as if he’d see those trusting eyes before.
“You know, don’t you?” she said.
Derek shook his head. “No. What?”
“You’re the one who brought me out here.”
“What?” His body stiffened.
“You told me to wait for you,” she said.
“I don’t know you, lady. It wasn’t me.”
“Yes, my fiancé.”
“Why would your fiancé bring you out here?” Colt asked.
Derek shifted nervously. Something wasn’t right, but what? He looked at her hands. There was no engagement ring! He looked at her feet. No shoes, and there was dried blood between her toes! “Colt! Stop the damn car!”
Colt slammed on the brakes just as Derek jumped out and screamed at him, “Get out of the car, man.”
The bride remained motionless as Colt leaned over her to look at him. “Are you crazy, Derek? What’s wrong with you?”
“Look at her!” He pointed to the woman’s feet.
The brides head cocked at an awkward tilt, a leer stretched across the taught skin on her now emaciated face. “I’m baaack. You can’t get rid of me now.” She hissed in a deep demonic voice. Turning with a ghostly speed, her nail flashed blood red just before they sank into Colt’s neck. Killing him.
Faster than Derek’s eyes could follow, the bride was now in front of him. He threw a fist into her face, but it push right through her.
“Holy Mother of Mary….you’re a ghost!”
She gave an evil smile. “So sweet of you to join me, Derek. I’ve waited so long for your return.”
Well I hope you enjoyed the vignette spots...so tell me, what mood/s was I in when I wrote them and do I reveal anything about me personally as an author? What is between the lines?
Back in September of 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies school teacher at Robinson High School in Little Rock, did something not to be forgotten.
On the first day of school, with the permission of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she removed all of the desks out of her classroom. When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks.
Ms. Cothren, where're our desks?'
She replied, 'You can't have a desk until you tell me how you earn the right to sit at a desk.'
They thought, 'Well, maybe it's our grades.'
'No,' she said.
'Maybe it's our behavior.'
She told them, 'No, it's not even your behavior.'
And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still no desks in the classroom.
By early afternoon television news crews had started gathering in Ms. Cothren's classroom to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room. The final period of the day came and as the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the deskless classroom.
Martha Cothren said, 'Throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he or she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom. Now I am going to show you.'
At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it. Twenty-seven U.S. Veterans, all in uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. The Vets began placing the school desks in rows, and then they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place those kids started to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned.
Martha said, 'You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. Now, it's up to you to sit in them. It is your responsibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don't ever forget it.'
By the way, this is a true story. And this teacher was awarded Teacher of the Year for the state of Arkansas in 2006.
Please consider telling others about this message...tell them to come here to read and ponder then pass along, so none of us will ever forget that the freedoms we have in this great country were earned by U. S. Veterans.
To contact for a header and footer of your own go to http:designssapphiredreams.org/