A Sound of Beauty

Image From Google

Image From Google

A Sound of Beauty

I walk alone amid the sun-bright woods,

so quiet

so calm,

and in my head, hear clear dragon song.

***

Soft whispers, deep voices, loud and melodic,

ever calling

ever singing,

reaching out, and ever seeking.

 ***

Locked in silence, I’ve no words to describe,

to explain

to tell,

of this sound of beauty in my quiet hell.

This poem is inspired by a character of mine by the name of Hawkian; his novel is entitled Whisper and it’s in the same series as my first novel Believe.

The Desert Sun

Here’s a piece of flash fiction to finish off Writing and Writing Advice Week my lovelies, I hope you’ve enjoyed all the writing posts! I tend to avoid things like this as it usually takes me quite a while to flesh out my thoughts and I’m too wordy for short pieces, but I figured I’d give it a try. No doubt the piece definitely needs work, but for the challenge of writing quickly and tersely, I’m pleased with it (and with myself!) 😀 It’s a snippet of a scene from a WIP called Ashes

Image From Google

Image From Google

The burning desert sun haloed his strong face, painting a golden-orange glow on his already dusky brown skin. She knew he knew that she was staring but couldn’t help it. Didn’t want to more like. He was so beautiful. She’d thought him so when they first met, but now…

It was this place, it had to be. Everything about this stark, isolated Realm– his Realm– made him seem more. She could see now how nervous he’d been before, in her home with her people, though she’d have never guessed it. But here he was truely comfortable. Here he was happy and confidant among his own people and the home he’d known his whole life. The difference had her near shaking…

By the Spirits she wanted him.

Six months they’d said. She’d never make it that long. Not now.

Almost as if he knew her thoughts, Varrick turned to stare at her appraisingly, a wolfish grin curling up the corners of his lips. He reached a hand out to trail his fingers along her jaw but stopped just before touching her, and she knew he was thinking of her guard and the others waiting for them below. She blushed, her father’s man was probably staring at them in the fading sunlight, watching and wondering if he should intercede… But still she wanted Varrick to touch her.

Finally he stepped closer and dropped his fingers to her lips, softly tracing the curve of them and setting her skin ablaze. “I should never have agreed to this,” he half-whispered. “You’ll be the death of me.”

The Wisdom Of A Hair Stylist’s Daughter

Having grown up in numerous salons my lovelies, I’ve been fortunate enough to learn some of life’s most valuable lessons in a setting where — as a woman, and the daughter of a hair stylist — I feel most at home. Some of my earliest memories are of the smell of hairspray and perm solution and the joy of being the center of attention as a crowd of loving faces told me how cute I was and how much I looked like my mom and/or dad. I know for most,  hair salons are just a place people visit once or twice a month to blissfully relax, beautify themselves, and gab freely with their therapist stylist, but for me, they’ve always been my favorite playgrounds. I visited the shop nearly everyday of the week and everyday there was a new adventure to be had! I was probably that annoying kid who sat next to you and talked the whole time your hair was being cut, or who sat there in contemplative (creepy) silence and watched you get your hair done, or the especially evil one who stopped your session twenty times by going “Momma! Momma look at this!”

But it wasn’t all fun and games I can assure you. Sometimes major life lessons were learned going to work with my mom, and today (considering I’m visiting the shop) I feel like sharing some of these lessons. Hopefully they enrich your lives with their sound wisdom and undeniable truth 😉

Let’s begin shall we…

1) The sink is a perfectly acceptable place to launch epic naval warfare.

Image from Google.  Some of the most awesome naval battles have been fought here!

Image from Google.
Some of the most awesome naval battles have been fought here!

With a rag to plug the drain, an intrepid and brave Styrofoam cup, and the spray nozzle to supply the raging oceanic storm and hurricane-like rain, a life at sea is within your reach… Until your mother sees you splashing water clear across the shop in an effort to make the voyage look more realistic, then run…just run.

2) Gossip is the stuff of life.

Image From Google. "Did you hear about...?" "No! But did you hear...?"

Image From Google.
“Did you hear about…?”
“No! But did you hear…?”
“That’s not what I heard!”

Whether it’s from rag-mags, E News, the grapevine, or straight from the horse’s mouth (facebook), gossip is the goods. Be ready to fully explore the sociological, psychological, philosophical, metaphysical, and spiritual meaning of Miley’s (horrid) new hair cut, Bieber’s arrest (don’t care…I just don’t care), and the next-door neighbor’s fascination with garden gnomes *shocked gasp*!

That being said…

3) Everyone you meet in a salon will already know everything about you before you even introduce yourself, including what you should be doing that day.

Image From Google. "So what are you writing today?" "Actually, I'm just on facebook." Uncomfortable silence. "Well how can you get any writing done on Facebook?" More uncomfortable silence. Quietly whispers something that rhymes with duck and clicks off of facebook.

Image From Google.
“So what are you writing today?”
“Actually, I’m just on facebook.”
Uncomfortable silence.
“Well how can you get any writing done on Facebook?”
More uncomfortable silence.
Quietly whispers something that rhymes with duck and clicks off of facebook.

I cannot tell you how many times my mother has introduced me to people and the first thing they say is Oh, the writer! I’ve heard all about you! All the while staring at me as if they know the very secrets of my soul, which they might.

4) It is never permissible to clip the Nail Tech’s brushes with fingernail clippers…ever!

Image From Google. Just don't try it...trust me!

Image From Google.
Just don’t try it…trust me!

I don’t really thing I need to explain this one. Suffice it to say, I’ve done this and it did not end well…

5) The spiral hairbrush is to be avoided at all costs!!!

Image From Google. To this day it strikes fear into my heart just to see this brush sitting out.

Image From Google.
To this day it strikes fear into my heart just to see this brush sitting out.

For the love of all that is beauty, stay away from this brush, it’s the most dangerous thing in the entire shop and if you see it (out of the hands of a trained stylist), RUN! RUN!!!!! It tempts you with its spiral-ness and just waits for you to innocently wrap a tendril of your luscious hair around its treacherous bristles before turning on you and snagging a hellacious knot so badly tangled that it cannot be undone without frantic tears and bitten-back screeches of horror. Over the years, I’ve become immune to the charming allure of this brush and I can now see it for the villain that it truly is.

And there you have it my lovelies, I hope this list was helpful and will make you think of things a little differently when next you visit your stylist! What about y’all, any tidbits of salon wisdom, or stories you’d like to share? Let me know! 😀

Captive In The Beast’s Forest

“You’ve been kidnapped and given a choice: would you rather be stranded on an island, dropped into an unknown forest, or locked in a strange building?” — The Daily Prompt, Captive’s Choice.

As soon as I read the Daily Prompt this morning my lovelies, I was irresistibly drawn to the idea of being left to fend for myself in the wilds of a beautiful — yet frightening — forest, completely alone, with only the bounty of nature, the tingle of uncertainty, the prickle of fear, and the exquisite sexy allure of the unknown to accompany me.

To me, nothing is sexier than the unknown, the unexplored, the infinite what may be’s that lie ahead, filling us with hope and the desire to keep going, to keep living and dreaming no matter what.

Who knows…perhaps there is someone waiting for me in the forest. A prince under a beastly curse. A castle waiting to awaken. A future I’ve always dreamt about. Destiny. Fate. Love.

What if…

Image From Google

Image From Google

Not Everything That Sparkles Is Glitter

Hello my lovelies, I hope you’re all staying warm and cozy on this frosty, wet morning! I know it’s January and all but honestly, I don’t understand why it has to be this cold this far south, this morning I was actually longing for a pair of mittens…MITTENS I tell you. I don’t even think Florida imports mittens…but anyway, since it is so wretchedly cold, I urge you to go and grab a cup of hot cocoa.  I’ll be right here when you get back, and let’s face it: everything is better with chocolate!

Image From Google

Image From Google

Now as I was saying, it was freaking cold this morning — the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and makes you feel like you’re turning into one giant marble statue who will never again know human warmth — but I have to admit Nature did leave me quite a beautiful surprise to make up for making my toes feel as though they would fall off at the slightest touch: a back porch filled with thousands and thousands of twinkling, incandescent diamonds! It was breathtakingly beautiful. Y’all know how much I love anything that sparkles at me! I stood transfixed, staring googly-eyed at the sparkling lights, fully convinced that somehow someone had dumped a truck-full of silver glitter on our plain wooden porch in the middle of the night while we were all sleeping, like some kind and benevolent Glitter Fairy. It wasn’t until my mother snapped me out of my revelry with a warning not to slip on the ice that I realized my newfound sparklies were not the work of some bedazzled Glinda-esque being, but of Mother Nature herself. After a moment of chagrin for pondering the existence of a Glitter Fairy, I shrugged with a loopy smile and went back to gazing reverently. Suddenly the cold wasn’t so bad. It’s very rare we get anything resembling snow or ice here in my home of sunshine and sand (as I mentioned in post Mythic Snow), so seeing such unexpected beauty in a moment of real discomfort was a gift indeed. It made me feel grateful for being awake so early so I could be one of the few people to see the delicate latticework of new ice glisten and glow in the light of a luminous full moon.

Image From Google

Image From Google

It also made me think of all the times I’ve let my discomfort and general grumpiness blind me to the wonders of the world around me. I’m an extremely moody person, partially because I have an anxiety disorder, and partially because that’s just my personality (or my writer’s personality, as I like to call it lol). I’m snarky and proud of it. And I’ve always thought that being moody made me a better writer because it allowed me to feel the high’s and low’s that my characters experience, but I’ve also noticed that I tend to miss out sometimes on the small happiness’s presented to me because I’m too fixated on what’s bothering me at the moment. This is something about myself that I want to work on this year. With all my wonderful snarkiness and all my moods, I want to try to remember to look for the hidden sparklies in all situations. I don’t guarantee I’ll succeed every time, but as the great and wise Dory says “Just keep swimming!” Admit it, you’re singing the song now aren’t you?

*Just realized I still have no cocoa. Must rectify this. Be right back!*

Image From Google

Image From Google

Ahh chocolate-y goodness 😀 Chocolate is a sparkly you know.

Well what about you guy’s, any unexpected surprises or resolutions for the new year? Are you a fan of snow and the cold weather? Let me know! Oh and before you go: P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney!

A Sound of Beauty

Image From Google

Image From Google

A Sound of Beauty

I walk alone amid the sun-bright woods,

so quiet

so calm,

and in my head, hear clear dragon song.

***

Soft whispers, deep voices, loud and melodic,

ever calling

ever singing,

reaching out, and ever seeking.

 ***

Locked in silence, I’ve no words to describe,

to explain

to tell,

of this sound of beauty in my quiet hell.

This poem is inspired by a character of mine by the name of Hawkian; his novel is entitled Whisper and it’s in the same series as my first novel Believe.

Moving Day!

Hello my lovelies, I just wanted to let you know that the day I’ve been preparing for for the past month has arrived. What day is that you might ask…none other than MOVING DAY! Yep, all those lovely boxes I’ve carefully packed with memories and things I just can’t throw away are being loaded up and moved! *Happy Dance* So that means that I may not post for a while — perhaps a week or so — because you know, now that the moving has commenced, the time to UNPACK is almost upon us. And I don’t know if the internet is up yet at the new place… But have no fear and try not to languish in your misery at my absence (you know I love you guys), I shall return as quickly as possible and normal posts will resume once everything is settled. I may try to post one last thing later on if I have the time, but if not, I’ll save it and share it later 😀

And so I leave you all with a pretty picture to distract you from my absence (which for all I know might only be a day or two hopefully):

Image From Facebook

Image From Facebook

 

And one more because I just think it’s cute:

Image From Facebook

Image From Facebook

Enjoy!

Monday Movie: Dear Frankie

Hello my lovelies, it’s time again for another installment of Monday Movies and this week I’ve chosen the incredibly moving film Dear Frankie, starring Gerard Butler, Jack McElhone, and Emily Mortimer. Somehow, and I still don’t know quite how, considering the types of movies I generally watch, I was unaware of this film’s existence until a little over a year ago when the bestie and I saw a preview for it on another DVD. Apparently Dear Frankie was released in 2004, but no one I know ever got the memo; I guess it’s a little known treasure that really needs to be seen by the general populace. Needless to say, the bestie and I embarked on a search to find this movie and watch it for ourselves (the trailer was just amazing) and finally last week I discovered it on YouTube.  After she forked over the rental fee, the bestie and I sat back and waited (and hoped) to be amazed…and we were!

Image From Google

Image From Google

Dear Frankie is one of those films where everything is just superbly done, the cinematography, the story, the acting, the EVERYTHING, and it leaves you breathless and perhaps a bit teary at the end. (That last letter…OH  MY GOODNESS…the tears!) Personally I whimpered throughout the entire thing, but like I’ve said before, I’m a notorious crier when it comes to films, I can’t help it – I mean, every time Frankie said “Da” I about lost it. And thankfully, it wasn’t just a one-note film: there was a great deal of complexity and comedy, a dash of romance, suspense, warmth, and just so much more. It truly runs the emotional gambit. Emily Mortimer’s portrayal of a mom trying her hardest to protect her son was emotionally spot-on, I constantly felt her fear, angst, worry, and the all-encompassing love she had for her son.  And being a serious fan of Gerard Butler, I have to say this may be my favorite movie of his now, just the way his character interacted with Frankie touched my heart. Though, I think Jack McElhone’s depiction of Frankie stole the movie from these other great actors; really, he was amazing!

Image From Google

Image From Google

The premise of the movie is this: Frankie, his mother, and his grandmother are almost constantly on the move, they settle into a place for a time and then leave whenever they (the mom and grandmother) feel it’s necessary, (the movie explains why but I’m trying to avoid spoilers, though in all honesty I’m probably going to give something away later…just because I want to give my two cents on the subject). Frankie’s father is noticeably absent, but almost all of the narration is Frankie talking to his father through letters which he faithfully writes and has sent to the ship at sea where his father supposedly works. Frankie, we learn, is deaf, so his narration is the only way the movie-watcher gets to hear his voice and inner thoughts, and incidentally, it’s also the only way his mother gets to hear his voice, as she is the one who receives these letters and she is the one who writes back, pretending to be Frankie’s father. Why the deception, you may ask, well you’ll find out later.

Anyway, Frankie has a giant map in his room with which he tracks his father’s ship as each new letter explains where the ship is now and what it’s like in this new place and through the letters he bonds with a father he can’t even remember. And after a bet (involving his treasured stamp collection that contains all the stamps his father has sent him from across the world) is made at school involving a bully, Frankie learns that his father’s ship is heading back to Scotland and he hopes to finally see his mysterious father. Frankie’s mother then leaps into frantic action, she can’t let Frankie down, and so she goes about “finding” him a father, sort of like hiring a daddy-for-a-day. Gerard Butler ends up being that man. So Frankie finally gets to meet the father he loves so much and over the course of two days, Gerard realizes just how special Frankie and his mother are.

Image From Google

Image From Google

Now, I don’t want to give away the ending, so I’ll stop my synopsis there (though I will say the ending is more hope-inspiring than the cathartic release I was expecting). I went into this movie hopeful but unsure and left cheering. Frankie completely captured my heart, as did the rest of the characters, and I just couldn’t believe how well done this movie was. It was simply superb! And although elements of the story were a little fantastical, it didn’t feel that way, everything came across as really realistic, especially the scenes we see of Frankie’s real father.

*Spoiler Alert* These scenes chilled me to the bone and I was incredibly glad they were few and very brief. Having personally experienced mental abuse, I could completely relate to the grandmother’s near constant panic and the mother’s reluctance to let her guard down with such a man as her ex. The scene where the father is so apologetic and charming and then completely lashes out the moment he is denied something he wants, wow…trust me, it’s very realistic and it left me clutching my chair with quite a bit of force.

So if you’re one for semi-heartwarming tales of family, love, and the unpredictability of life, I’d say definitely give this movie a try! I also advise bringing some tissues, just in case you’re anything life me (seriously, I whimpered/sniffled the entire length of the movie)! If you have seen Dear Frankie, what did you think? Did you tear up a bit, or were you stoic on the outside but a complete emotional wreck on the inside? Let me know what you think!

Image From Google

Image From Google

(Next on the must find and watch list is: Adam, starring Hugh Dancy. Sooner or later, I’ll find this film and I have high hopes for it!)

A Sneak Peek At Ashes!

Hello my lovelies, I’m sorry for being a bit lax with posting this week but it’s crunch time with all the packing for the move, so I’ve been up to my elbows with old memories and plastic containers! But to make it up to you, I’m going to do something I NEVER do: which is give you all a sneak peek at what I’m working on novel-wise at the moment! Technically, I should be working on Prophecy right now, as it’s the second book in the series I have planned, but I’ve been captivated with Ashes for a while now so the snippet you’ll read here is from Ashes (a novel further along in the same series as Believe and Prophecy). As of right now, Ashes is looking to be a two-part novel written in first person, with the first part being told by one character and the second by another. This sneak peek comes from the second part and it may work its way into the novel itself, or it may end up being just a character musing that I work off of and tweak. Either way I hope you enjoy!

A clip entitled “Mother” from Ashes (pt 2):

It’s been over twenty years and I still dream about her nearly every night. Her copper eyes – my eyes –twinkle back at me from an unearthly lovely face framed by dark, flowing black hair as she laughs –a throaty, feminine sound – at something I cannot see or do not remember. The crown of blue ink stands out vividly against her pale brow, and I long to trace those entwined lines with my fingertips again, feeling the slight ridge where marked skin meets flawless porcelain. Her face is as familiar to me now as it was then; other details of that life long ago have faded, but not this. Often I find her near our home, standing amid the stark beauty of the reddish-brown desert with the heat of the sun bearing down upon us both as we search each other’s faces for traces of the passage of time. There are other faces in these dreams as well – dark, blurry images – that leave me with a tingling sensation of home and something lost, but always I reach for her.

At times she evades me and hides in the darkness of the place I cannot enter, a place she won’t let me near. The darkness is off-limits, a place out-of-bounds and forbidden, even here in my own dreams. Don’t…don’t look back.

Some nights she weeps there in the darkness and for a brief moment I can see her stretched over-top a pile of stones where she slumps into herself, broken and sobbing, asking me where I’ve been, why I’ve not come to find her yet. Help me…help me Ryzan, she begs before she begins screaming, those awful, tearing screams that haunt me and leave me shaken and drained for days afterward. Her piercing voice shifts from agonizing howls of pain, to gorge-rising screams of fear, before finally becoming the guttural shrieks of rage, so filled with hatred that I’m suddenly thrust back, forced from her presence as though shoved by a full-blooded vampyre.

From these dreams, I always awake trembling and reaching for her, fearing that once again I am lost and knowing that for a moment, she had been near enough to grasp. Thankfully these dreams are few, and most nights I merely see her smiling face haloed by the buttery, yellow light of the desert sun – the face of my memory – and I know. She is out there still, waiting for me to find her.

One day I will.

Image From GoogleAll Rights Belong To The Artist

Image From Google
All Rights Belong To The Artist