Tag Archives: writing

The Shadows Between Us by Tricia Levenseller Spoiler Review

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So, I want to talk about how good this book is and to do that, I’m going to spoil some things. To that end, if you want to read this book, stop reading here and go read it. It’s a great read, I couldn’t get enough of it. Check it out.

Alessandra is a straight up piece of shit and I love her for it. She is self-absorbed, conniving and power hungry. She’s also highly intelligent and charming. She’s been overlooked by her sister and now she wants to step into her own. She has a plan to do this by marrying, fucking and killing the current leader of the world, the Shadow King. Step one of the plan is scamming a bunch of idiots into giving her money and jewels. She uses that to fund her trip and we’re off to the races.

The thing is with this book, is that neither lead are good people. In fact, they’re both monsters that occasionally do nice things for each other. I think that this is great and such a refreshing take on one of these kinds of novels.

Alessandra helps him hunt down and kill the local Robin Hood. Every time the king is displeased some of his servants die. This is against the backdrop of him conquering the world. There’s never a point these two ever get better.

I once had a conversation about Roy from Full Metal Alchemist that my friend didn’t like that he was so charming despite committing so many war crimes. My other friend countered that that was the point. He came back from the war and put his uniform on and makes you forget. That’s what real monsters do.

Alessandra and Kallias do the same thing, they make you forget they’re terrible by being nice… to one another. Everyone else to them is disposable.

Yet, I couldn’t stop reading. The writing was so excellent, each twist drew me further into the book. It was phenomenal.

The only minor complaint I can have is that it felt like Alessandra got out of certain trouble a bit too easily. It kind of reminded me of Josh Hartnett’s character in the movie Trap(2024). When that happened it didn’t make me think that she was that smart or resourceful. But there are other moments where her intelligence does shine through. So, maybe it evens out.

This whole book reminded me of the tone of Creep by Lygia Day Penaflor. Where the narrator helps draw you in with what’s going on and you start understanding, accepting and somewhat even encouraging the terrible things the narrator’s doing until you shake your head and remember no this is bad. It’s good for us to have books like this where terrible behavior isn’t excused. The author just presents it and you get to make your own choice.

In short, highly recommend. Five stars, 10/10, check it out.

Our Perfect Gentlemen

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(This is a preview of one of the stories that’s going to be in my collection of horror stories entitled A Heartbeat in the Darkness.)

It was an unfortunate thing that most people were happy about the missing child posters.  Though they would never say such a thing to the distraught parents.  They would place their hands on their arms and say it was such a tragedy and they were in their thoughts.  Meanwhile saying good riddance behind their backs at various social functions.  The one bit of sorrow was that their older daughter still wandered the streets putting up the signs.  A hopeless endeavor.  It made them sad because she was a good girl, so different than her brother.  People liked her.  Maybe if they had liked him a little bit more.  He wouldn’t have turned out this way.  

Or maybe he just needed a firmer hand than his parents had been willing to use.  At least that’s what the Pince sisters thought.  Two older women who had relaxed into a life of retirement with a nice little nest egg.  He was their current house guest.  Wasn’t he just so fine now, sitting in their living room across from them.  Serving them tea.  His smile so much better than that nasty look he had on his face at all times before.  Constantly frowning, constantly smirking and giving people the finger.  What a naughty little boy he had been.  

They had fixed it.  It had taken quite a bit of work but they had fixed it.  Just like that they had so many times in the past.  They had this down to a perfect science.  He would be their house guest for as long as they could keep him.  Not that anyone ever left by choice.

Night came and so the two sisters retired up to bed.  Leaving him downstairs by himself.  One of them gave a quick flick to the machinery on the wall.  It spun and the resulting slackening was near instantaneous.  

The young man’s arms fell to his sides, his mouth finally fell away from the rictus smile that it had been forced into throughout the day.  It was hard to decide which was the worse pain.  The ones in his arms, mouth or in his cut achilles tendons.  The rings that had been sewn into his skin and then laced with fine piano wires ached.  He was made uncomfortable by the IVs that fed him as there was no longer any use for his super glued together teeth.  

He sat like a doll that had been left in the corner.  His body limp and useless.  There was no escape.  No way to get out of here.  He remembered the day that he had broken in here.  Looking for something of value to steal and sell.  How he hadn’t heard the one sister behind him before she struck him with the encyclopedia.  Knocking him unconscious.  Where had she gotten that strength?  

He had woken up this way.  Covered in the rings.  His jaw clamped together.  They had kept him like a toy ever since.  That had been months ago.  He assumed that they had killed their husbands.  Were living off the life insurance policies.  How else could they have afforded this?  

He slept fitfully this night and every night.  His body wrapped up in its various pains and discomforts.  The next morning, he rose with the sun in his eyes.  But the women weren’t there.  He couldn’t hear them.  The day passed.  The IVs ran dry.  Still no sign of them.  There hadn’t been a day when they hadn’t come down to torture him and play out their sick fantasy so what had happened?  

Night came again.  He wondered if this was some trick.  If they were going to come back and hurt him in some way.  He sat.  A second day and night passed.  No sign of them.  By the third morning, he figured that they had died in their sleep two days ago.  Good riddance, you god damn monsters, he thought.  He knew he had to go now.  He knew there was only way to exit.  

He bent his body forward and began to pull.  

Stagnation

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For the last three years, I’ve been trying to move out of my old apartment to finally live on my own. I’m not upset by the amount of time it took, I liked living with the various roommates I’ve had throughout the years but now it’s time for me to be on my own. Since I’ve been living on my own, I’m never going back. I will never live with another person again unless I’m in love or that person is need.

However, my last big endeavor was getting my degree in IT. I did that and that led to the job I have now and my moving out on my own.

Over the weekend, I was enjoying Star Trek: Lower Decks and doing puzzles. I finished with that and started to go into my room to play some Persona 3. It was then that I stopped myself and thought. I don’t have an actual goal. In that moment, I felt so lost and afloat.

Fortunately, several decades of therapy have prepared me for moments like this. I thought about that thought. Where did it come from?

I think it came from the idea that I was stagnating. That I wasn’t moving forward anymore. That there was no direction forward.

So, as I played Persona 3 because if I’m not going to figure out Tartarus who is? I thought about the next goal. First, I would like to move forward in my career at some point. Secondly, I would like to go to Maine and to Acadia national park to hike its many trails. For that I would need to train. Thirdly, I would like for someone to read my books and tell me that they like them. Whether that’s self published or through a publishing company.

Even if I hadn’t come up with this, I think that it’s important to have some kind of destination in mind. It doesn’t matter how long it takes to run the race. Just that you have a finish line. Something to go for.

I’ll let you know how this goes. The steps I’m taking, this website being one of them, to get to my various goals.

A Moment in the Lives of Two Early Risers

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The sound of her leather jacket was soothing. She had done her makeup the night before and put her hair into a bun on top of her head. Wrapping it with a bandana. There was the crunch of gravel underneath her feet as she walked into the convenience store.

There was an old man standing behind the counter. He was reading a paperback novel. There was music playing on the overhead speakers. Given that it was morning, she bought a small sleeve of donuts. He had a pot of coffee going and she poured herself a cup. Adding her sugar and cream, she approached the counter.

“Morning,” he said setting down his novel.

“Good morning,” she said.

He looked at Julia. She was young, somewhere in her early twenties. She had bright red lipstick and her skin was pale. She wore a buttoned down dark blue shirt with white polka dots tied at the waist. Black boots and black leggings.

She glanced at him. He had a Santa quality about him. Was probably a grandpa. He wore a black Motley Crue T-shirt and jeans. He had tiny reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

He glanced at the clock. It was five in the morning.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’re you doing up so early, dressed so fine?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Julia said. “Thought I would take my bike out for a ride. Go see the sun rise.”

“That sounds like a helluva morning,” the old man said.

“I noticed your sign has different hours. You shouldn’t be open this early.”

“Couldn’t sleep so I figured I could make some money to early risers like yourself.”

“That’s fair.”

“Where are you heading to see the sunrise?”

“West Quoddy Head lighthouse. I’m racing the sun.”

“Funny, isn’t it? The most eastern point in America is called West Quoddy. Interesting.”

She held out a twenty.

“Keep it,” he said. “You have a good ride. Wish I was your age again. Sounds like you’re having fun.”

“I am and I don’t want to short a small business, especially one run by such a gentleman,” Julia said.

“Fair enough.”

He took the cash and gave her her change. She offered her hand and the took shook. She walked out of the store and threw her leg over her bike. She started it up, revved the engine and took off down the road.

The road to the lighthouse needed people to be wide awake. The coffee was a boon to her. She got to the lighthouse and parked her bike in the parking lot. She climbed the small hill and waited.

There were others there with her. They were doing the same. Waiting for the sun. Waiting for a new day full of promise.

She thought about the breakup that she had gone through recently. How for so long, she had felt wrong and foolish for breaking up with him. He had done such a good job putting her down. Trying to dampen her light. Now though, as the sun rose turning the sky pink. The feel of the sea on her face, she felt alive again. Light and beautiful. She raised her cup to the sun and hoped that the old man at the convenience store had a good day as well.

The next day was rainy and cloudy. The day after promised clear skies.

Because of this, an older gentleman, white of beard and aching in his bones rolled a motorcycle out of his garage. An older but slightly younger woman, not used to being awake at this time of day but happy that her husband was happy, came walking out of the house securing a helmet over her hair.

“Let’s go, mama,” he said.

They drove into the coming dawn. They saw the sunrise. They hit the road again. They saw where the day could take them.

Should I Still Be Embarrassed Writing Fanfiction?

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I have written fanfiction since I was thirteen years old. I told no one for years. I still don’t tell that many people. But I just watched a movie called Turtles All the Way Down where Star Wars fanfiction features heavily into it.

Is fanfiction cool now? I severely doubt it but I wonder… because we’ve seen fanfiction go mainstream. Fifty Shades of Grey became one of the biggest franchises in bad BDSM history and it’s just Twilight fanfiction. Ditto the After series, which is just Harry Styles fanfiction(If I was Harry Styles, I would totally sue for that). Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan got their start writing fanfiction too.

I read a few articles about the subject and they all come down to the same thing. Writing is writing and it’s good or bad. We should be celebrating people being creative, not shame them for it.

However, much like how DND has become more mainstream, there is something that is still considered nerdier than it. LARPing. Disclaimer that I want to try LARPing and play an NPC that never goes on adventures. I just want to be a barkeep that offers quests to people and never leaves his bar or an item shop owner. Seems like a nice peaceful life.

Discretion over, my LARPing in the fanfiction world is real person fanfiction. There’s just something too parasocial and offputting when you write about real people.

Though to be fair, another great work, Dante’s Inferno is real person self insert fanfiction. Where Dante is like “I met Vergil and we became best friends and also I saw all these people that didn’t like me in hell”. So, maybe it’s not my cup of tea because I’m too blind to it.

There might come a day that I’ll feel confident enough to share one of my fanfics on this blog. Put my full name on it. Today isn’t that day. But for those that are able to do it, I salute you.

And hey, if you’ve written your own fanfiction and want to share, leave a comment with the link.

If you haven’t written fanfiction, go forth and do so! Get weird with it.

Write Fanfiction Before You Start Writing

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(There’s a scrape of metal on wood as I drag a chair over and turn it around. I sit on it backwards. I’m clearly uncomfortable but going to push through.)

Hey, kids. Let’s rap. I’m down with what the kids are with it these days. Let’s talk about writing.

So, you have rough ideas of your characters, the setting and concept for your manuscript. But you don’t know how to start or where to go with it. Well, I have the solution for what ails you.

Write fanfiction.

I see you slamming your hands against the table as you jump to your feet. You point your fingers like a bunch of Phoenix Wrights.

Hear me out. What is the purpose of fanfiction? Fanfiction has many purposes, it’s great practice for early writers who haven’t come up with their own concepts yet, you can use it to explore relationships that you haven’t seen in the media you’re fanficcing, add missing scenes that you feel should be included. But most of all, you can use it to learn how to write in voice.

And that’s why you should write fanfiction of your own work. You don’t have to worry about the scenario or place your characters in, you can just throw them in the sandbox and see how they interact with one another. You can establish how they interact, possibly hint at their past and then workshop that into your main work. You can also figure out what the tone is regarding your work. Is it fun and playful or dark and mysterious. That’s how you have fun. Hell, you can try your characters in different genres.

Anyway, that’s what I wanted to talk about today. Stay cool, kids.

(I get up from the chair and I was clearly uncomfortable because I’m walking poorly.)

Walk

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I listened to the song of the leaves as I crunched along the road. There was a chill running up my back that my coat couldn’t keep out. It was nice to feel, it had been a long walk and I was starting to overheat.

I was thinking of you as I listened to my music. Would you like this song? Would you think it was silly or something that was right up your alley? Would you sing along?

I remember when we sang together. Going down the same road in a car instead of by foot. That car was a lot like our friendship. Dented and old but unstoppable.

Those dents, I could never buff them out. We had done things to one another. Caused each other pain.

Sometimes you just have to live with it. Walk with the damage done to you. Was it unforgivable? Not this time. Would we forget? Probably not.

Okay, I’m back

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It’s been about two weeks and I’m fully in my apartment alone, dug in like a tick. Boy, oh boy, do I love it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still on good terms with my old roommates. But there’s just something to be said about coming into my apartment, immediately throwing my pants away and just enjoying having to answer to no one. I’m never going back.

It took me about two days to get my apartment completely in order. I had it all planned out in my head before I started so that helped me get everything in its right place. I have a closet for my hobbies, I have a great utility closet and I have the nest.

The nest is a large futon mattress that I can put up into a little couch or its original mattress form. I did it this way so my bros can come over for sleepovers. The kitchen has the main downside in that the oven is very old and not as good as I wanted. I also don’t control the heat, which is weird.

But a home is like a pet, it’s never perfect but that’s what makes them so special. I’m never going back to living with people until I fall in love with someone.

My mental state just feels so much better too. I have so much more energy and ability to do things. I can’t way to really dig into my hobbies. Last night, I was pushing through my exhaustion to finish a wonderful glitter unicorn puzzle.

I also know that it’s important when living alone to stay social. You can get weird if you’re left alone. Well, I’m kind of getting burned out by people. I’ve been hanging out a lot with people to the point that I could kind of use a break.

If nothing else, I’m going to start doing this blog and it’s only going to get weirder.

The Spider-Man Factor: Make Your Hero Suck(a little bit)

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Batman prepares. Batman is always prepared. Superman can do anything. These are the reasons that these characters are loved and people think they’re boring. They’ve lasted for so long. But it’s also been said they’re hard to write for.

There is a problem in DC where super powers can become so godlike that it becomes hard to think of challenges for them. The great cry in every MCU movie is “Why don’t you just call the Avengers?” well, in DC it becomes “Why does anyone try anything when Superman is around? Or Shazam? Or the Green Lanterns?”. There are so many massive threats that it’s ridiculous that anything other than God coming down to throw down with the heroes of Earth.

Marvel understands this and has kept most of their heroes “street level”. They are only able to do so much. It’s why people can become fearful of mutants. Some mutants are known as Omega level and that means that they can destroy the world if they so want. In my eyes, that just means that they’re on the same level as Superman.

When Spider-man fucks up, you can say, well that’s just who Spider-man is. He’s powerful, super strong and fast. But you could probably kill him with a small army and some air support. There’s a reason that his villains to bring him down didn’t need to ascend to god level, they just had to come at him all at once.

You can see this in Supernatural, the boys hunt monsters and all these things for near two decades during the run of the show. However, they’re still idiots and that makes them compelling. Because even the best fuck up.

That’s how you should be able to write Batman and Superman but people think of them being too perfect. Too powerful. That’s why one of the most loved versions of Batman is the one from the animated series. He’s a human. He’s smarter and stronger than the average human but he can still get stabbed by the Joker.

We don’t want Gods. We want good people doing good things. A hero shouldn’t stand above you but with you. They should be selfless and kind and inspire you to do the same. There is of course some variation to keep them interesting but that’s what a hero does.

It’s something that I try and put in my writing. I write the person first and then figure out what their power would do to them. Would it make them good? Bad? Corrupt? That’s up to what happens when I put finger to key and pen to paper.

You Can’t Break This Stallion’s Terrible Handwriting

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I’ve always had terrible handwriting. Even now as an adult, nothing has really changed. I write down the magic items in my DND campaign and half the time have to read it for my players.

When I was younger, they gave me extra writing homework to try and improve my handwriting. It never worked. No matter how many sentences I wrote. Cursive? Forget it. The only cursive I could handle was the loud band that sang about terrible relationships.

I had a thought today about why my handwriting was so terrible. I think it’s because I get really excited whenever I get the chance to do it. It’s the same reason that my typing is so full of typos. I’m kind of like those dogs that sprain their tails from wagging them too hard.

I thought about practicing it more but outside of the working world and my DND players, no one else reads my handwriting but me. Anything I do creatively I do in a word processor. I keep a diary so it’s a good way to make sure that no one reads that either. I think that was an episode of Doug.

When I have to write a love letter again, I’ll make sure to take my time.