Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: An Evil Chalice #amwriting #fiction #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

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Timo and Erica had been stranded in the desert when their small plane crashed near Cairo. Sunburnt, exhausted, and thirsty, they were shocked to see an Oasis. 

“An Oasis Timo, we’re saved. There’s water and even a chalice to drink from,” Erica yelled. 

“You’re seeing things Erica, there’s no water and no chalice.” 

Really look, it’s only a few steps away — we’re here,” Erica said rushing forward to drink from a beautiful pale blue spring; however, whenever she tried to cup the spring water with her hands, it slide away. 

“It won’t let me drink and I’m half-dead,” she cried. 

Timo rubbed his eyes, finally believing the blue spring underneath a palm tree existed. A chalice made with a human skull sat in the middle of a stone alter as well. It gave him a feeling of dread. 

“Erica, to drink the water you need the chalice but don’t do it. There’s something terrifying and evil about this cup.” 

She turned to Timo, giving him a dark stare, “I’ll drink from the chalice if I want.” Erica strode to the alter, bowed mockingly and lifted the chalice to kiss the skull on the mouth.

Timo grimaced as she scooped it into the water and drank. It was an Indiana Jones’ movie come to life as Erica’s life force was sucked from her body which disintegrated until she was dust. 

He decide to try drinking from the spring without the chalice. Timo drank all the water he could then sat down beneath the large palm tree in the shade. He wondered why cupping his hands worked for him and not for poor Erica as he drifted asleep.

When he awoke, Timo heard the blessed noise of rescuers in the distance and hollered for help. To his amazement the Oasis had disappeared along with the chalice. 

He contemplated what he should say happened to Erica as no one would believe the truth. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Interviews, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Writing

Interview With Simon Farnell


Welcome to another bi-weekly interview. I’m excited to share with you today a writer and blogger by the name Simon Farnell from the blog: Planet Simon. Ensure you check-out his site. He is an avid and imaginative science-fiction and fantasy fan who writes superbly. I enjoy his Titan Mystery Serial and his thoughtful and interesting articles on the The Solar System.


simon-farnell
Simon Farnell

1. Hi Simon, Please Tell Us About Yourself:

My name is Simon Farnell and I come from the UK. I’ve lived here all of my life and I’ve rarely been away. The only time I’ve been away from the UK is for work. I’m a nearly forty-two-year -old man who grew up with a great imagination and a poor understanding of math.

Nevertheless, I became an engineer and started working with electronics, soldering, wiring, and fixing things. After many years some crazy person thought I should design electronics and through much blood, sweat, and tears, I still am.

I have always loved the outdoors and I have an avid sense of adventure in the natural world outside my back door. I’ve climbed numerous mountains, sailed around on the sea, and canoed to different places. This sense of exploration and discovery shows in my tastes of reading, films, music, and writing.

I’ve always loved Star Wars from when I was young and I love the science-fiction and fantasy genres. Through the years my love for these genres has shown especially in my taste in music. I listen to wonderful tracks that take me on great adventures.

One day I realized I have a vivid imagination and that maybe I should write some of my thoughts down. That’s how it began. 


planet-simon
Simon Farnell

2. When Did You Start Writing and Blogging?

I started blogging in 2012 when a friend I was working with suggested should write and share my thoughts as “I have something to say.” I didn’t blog much at first but I had a few ideas which I posted. Looking back on some of these first posts, I see some of it was terrible. I struggled working with WordPress and almost gave up on my blog until I figured out how to use the WordPress platform and discovered its power.

When my mother died in 2014,  I discovered I had all these emotions inside me and while I didn’t pour them into my blog, I found writing to be an escape for me, a kind of therapy. I believe it’s still helping me find the real me inside myself.


“When my mother died in 2014,  I discovered I had all these emotions inside me and while I didn’t pour them into my blog, I found writing to be an escape for me, a kind of therapy. I believe it’s still helping me find the real me inside myself.” – Simon Farnell


3. What Does Writing and Poetry Mean To You and Why Do You Write?

I write because I feel I need to write. I have stories I want to tell, worlds to discover, and feelings to pour out. When we read a story it’s someone’s story or imagination in written form and poetry feelings in written form. While I didn’t start my blog to write poetry, I have written some pieces which are my feeling painted by my fingers into words.


4. Where Do You Find Your Own Inspiration and Motivation to Write? Is There A Time Of Day You Prefer Writing?

A large part of my inspiration is from music. I’ve always loved movie themes and music soundtracks without words.  I’ve discovered the likes of Two Steps from Hell and Audiomachine which take me to places only my mind can go.

I like to write anytime,  but the evening is easier; however, even that is difficult at the moment – so I write any time I can.


“I write because I feel I need to write. I have stories I want to tell, worlds to discover, and feelings to pour out. When we read a story it’s someone’s story or imagination in written form and poetry feelings in written form.” – Simon Farnell


6. What Are Your Current Writing Projects or Do You Have Any Future Projects Planned?

A. For my blog I’ve been writing a serial story called the Titan Mystery – the title is crap and I’m going to re-work it later. The series is about a huge ship that bends time. It traps another ship and its crew in a time bubble and the story is of how the crew escapes.

Here is a link to the beginning of The Titan Mystery 

planet-simon-the-titan-mystery1


Continued . . .

B. I’ve also found that Minecraft is a useful vessel for telling stories and I have a series with Minecraft Steve:

Here is a link to Simon’s Minecraft Steve and the Lost City Part 4.

simon-minecraft-steve


Continued . . .

C. I’ve also been posting a series about conspiracy theories which have come to life and I study them to test their viability. It’s amazing how many mysteries there are out there and scary ones too.

Apart from these serials,  I have two books that I have started and I am slowly working through them. I’m not saying anything about them yet, but I’m hoping future posts will have information and updates on the books. Lets say, they should be pretty amazing.

Here is a link to Simon’s SciFi Files: Lunar Atmosphere

simon-sci-fi-files


7. Please Tell Us About Your Process: 

My writing process is to write what comes to mind or what I feel. I like to write more than I like to edit and I think this shows. My viewpoint is, spending time editing is time wasted which could be spent writing or something else. I know that when I write my book(s) that will have to change and I will have to edit.


8. What Are Your Preferred Genres of Reading And Writing? Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers?

I like to read and write science-fiction and fantasy stories, this way I can let my mind go anywhere and anytime. I believe writers and bloggers should write themselves first. I know that if you want to sell you need to have a product. But make sure you write for you most of all.


“My writing process is to write what comes to mind or what I feel. I like to write more than I like to edit and I think this shows. My viewpoint is, spending time editing is time wasted which could be spent writing or something else.” – Simon Farnell


9. Do You Have Any More Pieces of Writing You’d Like To Share With Us?

This is more poetic piece that I wrote recently based on thoughts and feeling I was having at the time:

Torrents of Memories

By Simon Farnell.

simon-water
Simon Farnell

I stand absorbed by the falling water. Like moments in time they come and go so fast. Lost to the pool below, mixed together in an inseparable mix.

Yet my pool of thoughts can be separated, in mixed from the rest to bring g back moments in a drop, feelings lost to be rediscovered.

Soon I’m lost to every falling drop, memories crash over me in a crescendo and the moments lost in the torrent until I can feel them again.

Simon ☺


Continued . . .

This one is more humorous, based piece on someone I was working with:

 


Thank you Simon for answering the interview questions and sharing with us your fascinating science-fiction writing, fantasy writing, and thoughts on the world. If you would like to be apart of my bi-weekly interview series, please reach out to me on my Contact Page on Mandibelle16.

Until Next Time!


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nonfiction, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Prose – “Poker Face”


Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem based on things you remember. Try to focus on specific details, and don’t worry about whether the memories are of important events, or are connected to each other. You could start by adopting Brainard’s uniform habit of starting every line with “I remember,” and then you could either cut out all the instances of “I remember,” or leave them all in, or leave just a few in. At any rate, hopefully you’ll wind up with a poem that is heavy on concrete detail, and which uses that detail as its connective tissue. Happy writing!

Please see NaPoWriMo for more information.

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There are memories and memories inbetween memories, things you shouldn’t know. But I write and I say, what naturally comes to flow. Spending a day building raw story into characters who have flaws and appeal. Characters who are relatable and show affection, lust, a special connection with each other.

 I am building story from the ground level, thanks to a friend, who tore my story down line by line so I am able to build. I’m grateful for everything he sees that I do not. How the story doesn’t flow and how the characters actually appear.

What’s believable in real life? I think an interesting situation because the story involves magic and in real life we don’t believe in curses and the power of magic. We write of it extensively wishing for such power, such talents, such super-human abilities. Probably because we’re human, and sometimes being human makes a person feel mighty small. 

Today’s memories are about editing and refinement. Answering questions I wouldn’t know how to ask. I’m learning. Digging deeper, past the simple, into the complex. I don’t want a one-dimensional story. Though it has magic I want the characters to be real people and I want their flaws and likes/dislikes to show. I want what they’re good at, their occupations, their speech and actions, the people they have around them, to demonstrate their characters.

The minds of people are endlessly fascinating, especially the minds of those who say everything or say nothing. My Grandpa said little, his mind was complicated. He was a Pastor whose smoking habit ended his life at seventy-three -years-old. He would ask questions which made one think and consider alternate routes as he taught me the games of cribbage, chess, and when we attempted cryptograms and crossword puzzles. Grandpa’s questions always hinted at digging deeper, searching for another method, and missed details.

But my Godfather, he says everything. And what he says is thought-provoking. He is always thinking of other people, how to help. He is the bestfriend to his friends and he has many. He can listen but mostly he talks and he’s wise with his words.

I miss him and the second place I call home, his and my Godmothers charming house. His wisdom and continual thinking, his belief in God solving all problems, and finding answers from an omniscient God are well expressed; he gives me such peace after we’ve had a conversation or I’ve listened to him talk.

 And I’m thinking about a paint night I’m doing with friends at the bar Sunday night. Painting, did you know I love it? I will need a couple drinks to merely do as the instructor says, but I know what my hands and mind will do.

 I will mix the paint, either ruin or add to the design. I desire creativity. I’ve said it before, creativity cannot be boxed in its true form. But with a drink or two and two good friends, the evening will pass and I’ll come home, painting in hand.

 Also, finding a good guy — one whom you enjoy being with and talking with is difficult. You need to be attracted to their looks and their intelligence. You hope they such as you, have plans to do ‘something’ with their life. Finding a guy with all these parameters, is it asking too much? I’m not sure. I’m not extensively experienced here.

But time after time I’m disappointed when a date becomes, “come over to my place,” usually at night but sometimes in the day. There is no dating involved. There is no understanding of, ” I’m not interested.” And certain men keep messaging or calling. 

I’m not adverse to sleeping with the right guy. I haven’t found a right guy lately. I don’t know if I’m such as Alice’s friend at tea I’m, ‘mad as a hatter’ to believe there are good guys out there who want to have fun out of bed and when a woman trusts them, in bed too. Laying that foundation of trust is vital.

 I don’t think this thought of mine is right accordingto God but I’m trying to find a happy middle. Maybe my happy middle won’t make me happy? 

I’m tired of guys who only want a night here and there. That was university, I’m going to be thirty-one in July. I’m not twenty-one and even twenty-one year old me would have smacked a guy who kept after her after she repeatedly told him to back off.

Guys don’t get it, they scar women. This is stuff I cannot believe I’m writing but eighteen-year-old me was extremely naive at the bar. Her friend ditched her for some guy. She was all alone and trying to get away from this guy who followed her around the bar. She didn’t have the confidence a girl three or so years older had at the bar, batting away and shooting down idiots before they became stalkers for the night. 

She was so stupid. It’s effected her sense of trust ever since. He didn’t stop for a long time; it only felt like eternity. The repeated “No” in his ears, he was deaf to it until she cried wet tears. There were different guys after that, few who she didn’t mind getting close to.

But always, I have this disgust for men who treat women as if a woman’s existence is for their pleasure, because she wants or needs sex too. Should she have to sleep with a man after she has deliberated and said, “no?” No she shouldn’t, it’s always a woman’s choice, it’s her body after all.

Guy’s scar with their repeated advances boardering on harassment. They scar bruising you badly where they should be gentle. You look to see how purple your bruises are. Not understanding how he didnt comprehend, “don’t be rough.” 

Enough. To much info. But this poem is prose; it is memories past and to come — some awful and some exciting. Building memories writing and living in a world that can be cruel at times. 

But I think if you’re building if you’re working towards a goal you can be proud you’re using your talents despite the cards life and your stupid self may have dealt you playing poker.

Cheesy analogy but ever since I learned to play poker — Texas Holdem — in the basement of my Pastor’s house with friends I’d grown up or met in church at that time, I always think back to poker seeing such a carry over for life. 

Each day, place your bets and see what the ‘river’ holds, and how the cards in your hand can be played. Ask for another card if you dare, trading one in . . . 

We’d drink beer and play poker. We’d watch NFL football and play video games. I never entirely got why some days my poker playing was terrific, while other days I could fold most hands and end up broke. We paid twenty dollars in a pot at the beginning of each game. At times my one brother and I would play with the other players until 3:00 am or 4:00 am in the morning.

I didn’t play much poker after those years ended. But I feel sometimes as if I’m placing my bet, and trying desperately to hold onto my poker face. Tomorrow, more building. It keeps me going.

——

“Poker Face” – Lady Gaga

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.