The cloud overhead was thunderstorm green. We could taste the storm brewing. The air charged. Hairs stood on end. First waves of thunder heard. Lightning lit up the skies. Then rain. Warm, sticky, humid, salty rain. Not refreshing. Fitting. For today we laid you to rest.
My story is being written I wish it was in pencil I could erase the pain then But it is in pen Make mistakes Moment never forgotten No matter the strife My story is being written So much remains Unwritten It is in pen Never to be erased So I live life until the very end
I crash into the ground From the highest of highs I pick myself up I close myself off I crash I burn I will stand up I will fight on I will survive I crashed I burned But I stood up Closed myself off To have you rip down my walls And… Love Wins
Justice was held down by chains of corruption. Her white robes changed black with death of innocenence. She remained blind to the sight… But the smell of the burning of freedom, would always remain. A tear fell from under her blindfold hot against her marbled cheek. It was time, once more, to pick up her sword. It was time, once more, to rage war on corruption. But the chains held her down. She could only lend support to those who were trying to break them. So much pain. So much heartache. Movements marching around her. Freedom. Equality. Justice. It was the right of the people! Yet corruption locked her away. She struggles against the chains. She sees the good helping. The Movements! The riots turned parades! Chip by chip the chains are breaking. People have had enough! They want her freed! She needs to be freed! For She serves only the people! She rises up and stands in front of the crowds. No more. Chained no more. She lends her soul and sword to the generals of this war. May it be enough… For Justice may be blind, But She isn’t dead.
As a child we wish upon stars Told wishes can come true As adults we just hold scars And wishing on stars we outgrew I no longer wish upon the stars I work to make my wishes come true With pride I wear all of my scars But making wishes I never outgrew I just became my own star And work hard to make wishes come true
Ah prep for my Camp NaNoWriMo project is done. Bare bones outline: check Plot idea: check Cover: check
So this is the one I am sorta writing chapters as TV episodes.
I was also told about kindle vella, which may work for this type of writing.
Anyways, it is a basic LGTBQ+ Suspense type novel.
Been done to death perhaps. But it is a story line that won’t leave my head.
James ‘Jay’ Clossen never imagined life this way. Once upon a time the dream was going pro as a quarterback. But in a blink of an eye his life changed. He joined the Marines. Came home got a Behavior Psychology degree. Became a detective in his own hometown. Now at 38, his life is in shambles. Addicted to heroin from an undercover job, one night he shoots too much. On that night his life is saved by Arcas Raska. Never would Jay think this paramedic firefighter would not only save his life, but his sanity and soul. Now there is a serial killer in town. One that seems to be obsessed with Jay. Will Jay face this challenge and come our whole, or will he finally break once and for all? Arcas may just be the key to this fork in the road. Only time will tell of Arcas will answer the cry screaming ‘SAVE ME’. And save Jay from the demons within.
ALL HAIL THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR! Life revolves around money. The greed of the world taints our vision green. What’s in it for me? Nobody helps their fellow beings without payment. We go to jobs that kill us. Make money. Spend more than we make. All hail the almighty dollar.
Fall from Grace I felt the Sulphur pour My golden halo burned My soul no longer shined I fell to temptation I let them in to my heart I let them into my soul My halo shined again I wasn’t just another fallen soul I let myself believe Believe I could be whole again
They walked to the rose. An endless black. With shinning stars. Drawn into the beauty. They reached out a hand to touch. To be stopped. ‘Never touch!’ Was the warning. Alone once more. They reached out. Brushed a petal. They were no more. A new star joined the darkness.
Iowa had a sense of being stuck in the past. The summer was the best example. Lounging in truck beds. Parties in the fields. Skinny dipping in the lakes. All after working the fields. Iowans work hard, play hard. Sometimes being stuck in the past makes the best summers.