Thursday, December 29, 2016

tw- Depression SUCKS

Dear Me of the Future,

I hope you get this depression thing in check- get the right meds, seek comfort from truly loved ones and keep getting help- because right now, depression SUCKS. Like really badly. Like this is probably the fastest thing I'll write about today. I got to get this off of my shoulders.

So every winter since 2014 I've dealt with a serious bout, or bouts, of depression. It hits me like a ton of bricks and it takes a long time to get out of it. It just sucks... or blows...whichever one is worse.

It starts with something mundane, like spraining an ankle while training for a marathon or breaking up with someone, that sends it spiraling out of control. The results? Nothing short of the mental equivalency of having the flu, but in your mind. No physical symptoms similar to sickness like a fever or coughing up phlegm. I mean sitting in bed all day, losing interest in eating or sleeping, not caring about anything that happens around you, no urge to do anything productive, the absolute assertion that not only is everything meaningless, but that it will NEVER get better. It's how I ended up discovering that college just isn't for me- and the fact that apparently these depressive episodes have occurred since I was in HIGH SCHOOL doesn't make me feel any better about myself. I know I'm droning on, with barely any editing going into this post, but I seriously don't care. Depression is something pushed down by people who think it's a sign of weakness; hah, like the same way animated movies are "just for kids". They try to understand, but their frustration at how I act makes the situation even worse.

There are times that I need sympathy from those closest to me, and I never get it. They keep telling me to "keep my head up" or to cheer up but it never stops until the season passes. I don't know how on Earth I can stop this condition and whether or not it will ever be fixed. So future me, I hope you make sure to get rid of this before I end up going insane. It would be a good case study for some of my characters, but it's not something I would want to experience first-hand, like an LSD trip.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

So 2016 happened... Beginnings at the End

This is nuts. Specifically, buckeyes (get it? Because Buckeye is one of the Lost? If you didn't get it, I wouldn't blame ya...)

Lame joke aside, this should have been written ages ago. I know I'm shouting into an empty room, but I don't really care. This is important to me.

So if any of you knew, I posted my story on Inkitt (fantastic website by the way...) and WOW! What a support group... for a few months. They featured my story on their home page and I was flying high! It was AWESOME. I got over 75 views a WEEK! Now it's kind of plateauing at 400 views after 6 months of being on the site, so maybe it's time to move on. Not really sure where to migrate now, but definitely open to new ideas.

Also, I haven't touched PP &TL in MONTHS. Mostly my fault, but I've been too busy graduating college and trying to get a substantial job to finance this expensive hobby to write any more new content. Right now, it's about re-releasing STTR, but it's going to take awhile to get it out there, as I'm only up to Chapter 6. Yeah, I know- but the edit is EXTENSIVE, be it removing full paragraphs or figuring out the best way to word a sentence to use the least amount of words. Depression doesn't help either.

The "Review" of The Second Star got, like, NO viewers, so that's not happening. Maybe I posted it incorrectly.  Anyways, I'm just gonna write for me, so you could share this blog with others or not- it doesn't matter to me. I'm going to avoid looking at the viewership, as it was just my own personal ego-trip, a half-witted attempt to one-up John Green somehow. Now, I'm just gonna keep it personal, so yeah, anyone reading this will be seeing spoilers abound here on this blog. I don't even care if anyone finds out about some big thing about the book here.

SPOILERS from here on, if anyone cares.

Speaking of the book, Peter Pan and the Lost is stuck at this one really crucial point that I just can't get around. The story orbits around a Fairy Festival at this point, soon to be spoiled by a new batch of Roarers led by Captain Hook. This festival is kind of like the way generic JRPGs begin, with the inciting incident that introduces all of the main elements of the story. The main elements here are, essentially, a treasure map, Foxtail's extended tail, Maple and Talon watching from the distance, introducing all of the Indians by name (which could be incredibly racist if done wrong) and bringing all of the characters together. However, it starts well, with Lively's Dance and Rising Sun's extended tail to Foxtail, as well as other gifts to be given to other members of the tribe. It sets up our understanding of the characters involved; Buckeye's gift is to someone he has a crush on (Rising Sun), Lively's creativity and boundless energy, Foxtail's pain, Rising Sun's Generosity, Tiger Lily's Leadership and Bravery, Soaring Eagle's Pride (the good kind), Peter Pan's innocence and levity, Queen Mab(of the fairies)'s compassion and enjoyment.

Yet here is a problem. We reach Foxtail's pain. It's not good, because he's from a broken home, an abusive childhood and now is in paradise, a breather of sorts and a place to embrace his pain and make it better for himself. Yet it stops all of the good energy right in its tracks as he presents his gift to the rest of the group- his personal story...
Wait, maybe he can forget about it and just tell Lively later? Huh... that's not a bad idea...
.....................................................................................................................................
So I just fixed the problem and it actually WORKS!! Him forgetting to tell his story and telling the others that he forgot actually makes him a braver character. Yes, we're back on track!! This is gonna be fun. Of course, it will need a heavy edit, but now it's something.

Anyways, what we have learned from this part of the story is that dancing changes any sad mood into a happier one. Maybe that's nothing new, but it definitely feels new to me.

At this point, I have nothing else to report, but now I'm just proud that I found a continuation of the story and a place to think about other stories, even if anyone can see these. 
I don't honestly care anymore.
This blog is meant to be sloppy, as the greatest talent a person can have is to create something great, inspirational and amazing amidst the chaos.
That's what this blog is about- the rough drafts, the weird stories with disconnected plotlines and uncovered holes. The worlds under construction. The characters with half-planned arcs. The unfinished conflicts and villains.

That's what I plan on writing about in 2017. This is my resolution.

All of the stories I have planned, all 31 of them, will be written down as plotlines/ story bibles at some point on this blog. Screw it if people read this or not. I'm not going to chase anyone too much to read more about my stories. Anyone can write a blog like this, but mine will be different; I'm going to write unfinished stories and rough drafts for the world to either critique or change for themselves. Or I'll change them at some point in the future, which will be what happens anyway.

SO...

If you read this far, then congratulations! You're officially a friend of mine! If you comment, that's even better! If you don't, then whatever, we cool. Enjoy the rest of 2016 and

                                                     as always,

                                                                         see you in the sunlight!

From my world to yours,

Zach Neuman

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Obligatory hiatus status update

I know, I know. It's been a while, so I'll keep it brief.

1) Peter Pan and the Lost is taking much longer than expected. I'm stuck at a somber point in the story that I just can't get around. The Summer 2017 deadline will have to be pushed ahead if it's going to be the final version, which it probably won't anyway. More likely it will be released in early 2018 if anyone is asking.

2) A new version of STTR is being edited and will be available as soon as possible. I will definitely let you all know when that happens. Until then, the older version is available for less than 1$ on amazon now.

3) Other projects have been continued as well. Pokemon: TPI has some new content on Wattpad, as well as Stingray: Flight. More to come on those as well, but STTR and PP&TL are a top priority, even though Pokemon has been getting significantly more views on Fanfiction.net. Will try to let you know as more content is made.

That's about it as of now, but you'll be hearing from me soon enough. Can't wait to share better news with you all soon.

Always there to see you in the Sunlight,

Zach Neuman

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Sample part- Lively's Dance

Okay, so I just wrote a really fun segment for Lively. I'll give you some setup and you could read it.

So there's a fairy festival taking place where each person gives something to the festival, whether it be prepared or made up on the spot. For this segment, Lively is presenting her gift to the fairies:

“Lively,” Tiger Lily called out, “It’s your turn.”
       All eyes turned to her as she swiftly rose from her seat. She glided towards the center of the circle, her hands behind her back. Foxtail watched in awe as she leapt towards the center circle.
“I’d like to present to the Lovely Queen of the Fairies, a song and dance.”
She called to the wind to play the song they practiced. She saluted to the fairies as the trees started the symphony. The whole island heard flutes, horns, drums and fifes of other worlds. An orchestra of phenomenal sounds enveloped the universe. A song was heard in the ears of millions of children, and half of the world smiled at the same time.
       Then Lively began to dance. She positioned her feet at a graceful angle, her hands beside her slender body. Her pirouettes followed her high steps as she leapt above the fires. She circled the world with every spin and danced to the beat she felt inside. She cartwheeled, jumped, spun, jitterbugged, shimmied, swung her feet and waved her hands in intricate moves, as if making it all up.
       The rest of Neverland joined in. First, Foxtail, Buckeye and Morning Sun. Then Tinker Bell and Fireflyer, then Tiger Lily and Soaring Eagle, and the rest of the soldiers. Peter Pan flew above with his flute playing at full blast while Queen Mabs and the fairies flew in tight circles around the procession. The whole island danced as Lively’s song intensified above the world. An artist got inspired in Greenwich Village. A composer found a melody in the East End. A certain mermaid princess and her servants danced in moonlit lagoons before rushing to investigate the sounds. A boy and his crocodile suddenly felt curious to where the sounds came from and even danced along as they floated towards the sound.

       By the time the set ended, they each had danced when the other wasn’t looking. Faires got so excited they sprinkled their explosive dust over the flames, shooting up fireworks over the whole island, setting the sky ablaze with bright pinks and reds mixed with yellows and golds. The whole world felt happier, and the universe was grateful.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Sample Chapter 6- Peter Pan & The Lost

The grottos crawled underneath Neverland, bringing flowing water along with winding paths above the surface of the river. Electric eels illuminated the water’s surface as the two of them trekked along in silence. Foxtail and Lively were too curious to be scared of the darkness. They knew that the only things that scared them was their own imagination, so they only thought the happiest things possible. Each time one of them had a happy thought, the eels shined brighter, the water flowed calmer and they smiled at each other. Foxtail’s tail would whip around in excitement and Lively’s freckles would dance.
“HELLOOOOooooooooo.”
The calls echoed through until it bounced back to them.
“Helloooooo,” Foxtail called back, “Hoooowwww arrrrrrrrre yoooooooou?”
“FaaaaaaaanTASTIC!” Lively replied to hoots of laughter. The eels shined another way to go. Foxtail’s tail could whip a fly away from 15 feet. Lively’s freckles danced a konga line.
       Rivers of glowing light flowed throughout the cave, even glowing from the ceiling, to a bright opening on the other side. It opened to another side of Neverland, overlooking a coral reef surrounded by shady mangroves and birch shoots. Brightly coloured fish dotted the water as they looked out beyond blue waters, catching a glimpse of Maple dancing with her mermaids alongside the horizon of blue colour.
       As they skipped on the water’s ripples and crawled through the wave’s holes, they didn’t speak a word. Foxtail and Lively knew each other well enough not to need conversation between them all of the time. Besides, the Fairy Festival would be coming up soon, and they needed a gift to present to the fairy queen. Lively had already chosen a gift, but Foxtail needed an idea. As they reached the other side and found different ways to climb the same thicket, Foxtail still hadn’t thought of a good idea.
“Hey, Lively?”
“Yeah Foxtail?”
“What can I get them?”
“Get who?”
“The Fairy Queen and the Indians. I can’t think of anything to get for them.”
“Why not something scary?”
“But that would scare away the children.”
“That’s true…”
Lively plopped a finger onto her chin as her feet flew through the leaves.
“I would get them something gross.”
“You have the worst ideas.”
“At least I have a few. Unlike someone who doesn’t have any.”
She jolted a shoulder upwards as her eyes rolled to the trees.
“You asked me. I told you what I have in mind for you to get them…at least what I’m thinking of right now.”
“What in Neverland could you be thinking that is scary and gross?”
Lively hadn’t been looking where she glided until she fell flat into a mud puddle.
BLORP
Her eyes pierced through the mud dripping off her face.
“I guess that was it.”
She looked down at her favourite shirt covered in mud… and had an idea.
“Here, catch!”
She gripped a splatter of mud and threw it at him, smacking him straight in the face.
“Oh you clumsy clod! I’ll get you back for that!”
He rushed her into the mud pile, sending sloppy mud everywhere. By the time their ruckus ended, there wasn’t a single drop on the ground, and a dozen fairies laughing along with the two mud-soaked children in the distance.
They decided to cool off in one of the many lagoons floating above the island, swaying atop a massive flamingo indifferent to the two children climbing atop its massive legs. As they slithered into the warm waters, they didn’t notice someone watch them from above the flamingo’s head.
“’Allo, muddy freaks!”
They slunk backwards as they recognized the mermaid princess.
“Where are your mermaids, O great and talented one?” Lively didn’t know of sarcasm, only genuine emotions; that was fear. Foxtail admirably watched her bravery.
“Them? They’re too afraid to come up here. Besides, they’re napping not too far away. You seem not to scary, so I can trust you. Right?"
The two of them nodded as their mud slipped away, keeping the water clean. She slid down the flamingo’s neck and into the blue water, the three children fitting comfortably in the lagoon.
“Why is your name Maple?”
“Why is yours… Wait, I don’t know yours. What are they anyway?”
The two of them took glances, as if giving away a deep secret. Then they brought their faces back towards hers and Lively spoke first.
“I’m Lively and this is Foxtail. He’s got a tail and Peter tells me I’m ener-getic. He never explained what that word means. Maybe I should ask him.”
“He’s got a what?!” Maple’s eyes opened wide as not only did she hear that, but when Foxtail actually showed her his tail, she actually got to see one. Something definitely was odd about this place…
“So who’s Peter?”
Foxtail tried stopping her, but she said it anyway.
“He was the one who attacked you yesterday… well, by accident.”
“Yeah, he didn’t know who you were…”
“So why did he do it if he didn’t know me?”
They both shrugged their shoulders simultaneously. Maple raised an eyebrow in contemplation. Her arms stretched as far around the lagoon as possible, as if her personal lounge chair. A cloud lazily drifted between the flamingo’s legs.
“So, how did you get to this crazy island?”
“No idea,” Lively put a finger to her chin again.
“The last thing I remember was waking up here, with a big bandage on my head, like I had fallen into Neverland. Wait, I don’t remember falling… I have no idea how I got here. What about you?”
Foxtail’s eyes looked upwards in thought while Maple readied herself to answer the question. By the time she began to answer, they all felt the water cool down to uncomfortable levels so they all agreed to jump into the ocean below. The waters eagerly ran up to greet the three of them, as the mermaids rushed up to greet them.
“Before you greet me, meet Lively and Foxtail. They are my friends, and therefore yours as well. That is the rule of the waters. Capisce?”

Azure agreed on behalf of the rest of them and brought them all to the warm mainland, the sand warm to the touch and drying their bodies as they lay on the sand with the Mermaid princess. She weaved her tale with big words and hand waves, mesmerizing Azure, Lively, Silverfin, Sirena, Dolphin, Foxtail and Madeline with how she got to Neverland. As they walked together into the darkening brush and to the festival, Foxtail knew what gift to give to the Indians and Queen Mabs of the fairies.

Monday, May 2, 2016

Sample Chapter 5- Peter Pan and the Lost

He heard of people that started their life anew, and had attempted to do the same. He set fire to his foster parents’ home, stole all of the cash in the cupboard and left his world behind. By the time the energy in his legs gave way, he had outrun five policemen and a car, climbed across a bridge, jumped five fences, and sought refuge in a garden as big as his world had been small. He woke up in a world where the air didn’t smell of mold and diesel petrol and the sun embraced his weary body. Immediately he slipped out of his tight t-shirt, stuck to his chest with sweat, and let his thin arms dangle lazily to the sides. He wiggled his taunt shoulders as he basked in the sunlight of a different, happier color.
He likes his nickname better than his actual name, so we’ll call him Talon instead of Whitney. He is short for his age with tan- coloured skin stretching thinly over his muscles and face. His cheekbones make a good frame for the dark eyes on the sides of his upturned nose. He pushed his bangs away as rustling came from the thick brush. At first he blushed. He never showed his bare chest to anyone, let alone while wearing ripped pants and no shoes. Then the blood rushed away as he saw a behemoth of a crocodile saunter out of its nest into the sunny morning, its mouth open to accept the sun’s rays. He slid to the reptile’s side, feeling increasingly more comfortble wearing only pants, and hopped on a felled tree.
“’Morning, Crocky. Out for a stroll?”
It stayed put, charging its body like it fed off of light.
Talon’s stomach rattled beneath his ribcage as images of food raced across his mind. He wished he had brought something edible with them before he left. Talon ignored those gripes as the sun waved at the moon as they passed each other by.
They strode off into the murky water of the lagoon, the tiny boy on the lookout for their favorite prey; rabbit.
Sure enough, as they lazily drifted through the water, they found a herd of white rabbits grazing a field like a spot amongst the shady pear and sycamore trees. Talon sunk into the warm water and crawled up the sloping shoreline, Crocky waiting by the brook. He crawled on all fours to the edge of the trees on the other side of the spot, his fingers and toes smudged to the point of matching the dirty forest floor.
The morning sun heated up the air to a stifling degree as he felt the sweat drops fall down the line of his spine and from his bangs into his eyes. He blinked them away as he waited for their absolute silence. Then came the fun part; he leapt out from the shelter and gave chase to the heard of hundreds of rabbits.
“OOGA BOOGA OOGA BOOGA LAYAYLAYLAYLAY HA!”
He laughed as he screamed, the sweat flying off of his face and cooling him off. Talon knew exactly where he was pushing them to.

The lagoon. Into the mouth of a patient crocodile. They did this since he had raised it from a tiny egg floating down the snake river in Kensington Gardens. Talon rested on the crocodile’s ragged back, chewing the remains of a rabbit leg. They got 15 rabbits today, enough to keep Crocky full and content. They floated down the river in complete bliss, even so far as to fall down a waterfall without batting an eyelash.  

Monday, April 4, 2016

When it Gets to the Other Side, We Always Care Where We Land

Even the Doubleshot Energy & Cinnamon Dolce couldn't keep her awake. Sara allowed herself to succumb to dreams of happy chaos as her face relished the supple leather of the backseat, her perfect hair shielding the light from her face. Katrina sat on the other side, her green eyes glued to the widescreen hovering over her wrist and the limo bounced down the swollen highway.
Silence typically occupied their mobile office. It had been an unsung rule between them ever since they went to elementary school together. Mornings were quiet, afternoons exciting... at least that's how they used to be.
Katrina looked up at her sister, an older, taller version of her, with the same green eyes, auburn hair and narrow waist. Even when exhausted, she looked ready to go on a date. Then again, everyday felt like dating a time bomb. A duffel bag was clutched in her arms like a big Barbie doll, dwarfing her slim arms in her grasp. The Snapout! article about pencil skirts' comeback didn't seem so enticing anymore. Her eyes flickered through group texts, Snapchat and Oodles before settling on media more intellectual and meaningful.
Katrina shut off the holographic screen on her wrist and put in her head-buds. The warmth of her ears triggered the playlist to enter her ears via silvertooth. She turned to face the world outside and listened to an introductory clip of "Wind it Up" by Rob Thomas before transitioning to the smoothly intellectual voice of Carl Walker, also known as the Ballroom Philosopher...
"Welcome to the freshest episode yet. Hope you all are doing awesomely today. Sky seems like it's pissed off about something... I just don't know what. All I know is that I saw the North Star this morning, so I know something is going to go well today.  
"Y'know, I was talking to a bunch of friends last night and we came up with a very interesting thing about us. About humans...
We bunch together like schools of fish, each to their own group. I know I talked a lot about being ourselves and making others accept us for who we are. But there's also a very interesting about fish. They tend to swim together in very tight knit groups, like without any elbow room, well that would be if they had elbows.
"Anyway, scientists have proven that this is a defense mechanism embedded in every ichthyoid. They stay together to survive. To not die, y'know? So if we are so much more advanced than fish, why don't we do that?
I mean, fish are primitive species, don't get me wrong, but it would seem counter-evolutionary to go off in our own ways, to purposely be different just to express yourself when it isn't good for survival. Maybe we should be a part of society just until we could do something different..."
The limousine turned off of the highway. The only path standing between them and Sally Ride Institution private school was a straight line and twenty buses attempting to squeeze into one narrow valet spot.
"...Then there's the salmon, who's main challenge is swimming upstream. If it doesn't, it dies with no legacy of baby salmon living on its name. So the only way to make a legacy is to go with the flow until the time comes to jump the stream. That time is up to you all. Think about it. See you tomorrow, beloved audience. Always think out loud and wind it up..."
Even after 20 episodes, he still didn't explain what he meant when he said "wind it up".
Maybe it's a college thing, she thought as she gave one swift nudge to Sara's leg to give her time to wake up and fix her hair. They would kiss each other on the cheek and leave from different doors, each waiting for the day to end for a different reason. 

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Stingray- Because Some People Don't Get to Fall Onto Solid Ground

Morning woke up the city in a warm shake. By the time the sun had risen above the horizon, Katrina had been up and out of her queen sized bed and checking her phone to find out what happened since 12 am last night. She heard Sara rustle in her bed next door as Elibeth, their housekeeper, woke her up with a jolt of EDM on full blast from a Bluetooth speaker.
Her phone read off 158 new messages as she flash-showered, put on a cute outfit and colored her face to look a few years older. By the time she slipped on her new flickback heels, she had been caught up on all of the drama and problems surrounding her friends and had even added her own opinions to the multimedia chatroom they all shared. Some of the advice felt evil to give, but she always gave herself reasons for it. It was a popular-eat-popular world at her high school, even if she had inherited the chaos; she still had to earn it, even if it meant pruning the tree here and there. Yet there was one friend she truly loved. Her younger sister was a treasure Katrina would never give up. Sara was good and very resourceful, but Rhonda... Rhonda was too precious, too innocent, to allow others in. The thought of her being hurt in any way shook her bones in the worst kind of chill. 
On a different note, her phone gave an exciting notification beep. Her favorite media-cast updated with a new episode!
He called himself "The Ballroom Philosopher" and he gave insights on things she would never catch by herself. He sounded pretentious and overly complicated, but that was what drew her to him. Not that she had a crush on him -hell, she never even saw his face!- but that he spoke of truths only a 20-something year old guy could make while living in a one-bedroom apartment, wearing the same clothes more than once a week, and eating eggs and toast 2 meals a day. That lifestyle didn't interest her except in the chance that she might be able to learn more about life through him. So she listened to his 35-minute long daily podcast while oblivious to the beautiful world outside, on the way to school.
However, there was one thing she always did, even if she was running late and skipping breakfast to hop into the limo to school, not even to grab her homework...
...
Rhonda waited patiently as her best sister Katrina gathered up her knapsack, tablet and head-buds before saying goodbye to her. She kissed her gently on the forehead in the shape of an 'O', her favorite letter, before whispering her favorite words in her ear:
"I love you"
It was the only words Rhonda could say clearly. Yet they meant more to her than being able to say the whole dictionary.
The door closed behind her with a small click as she wobbled down the rest of the wooden stairs, her legs flailing underneath her. Elibeth helped hold Rhonda's fragile body as they slowly descended to the kitchen.
It had taken her only 30 minutes to get dressed to show Katrina her new favorite blouse-and-skirt, the one she had bought for her. Rhonda was so proud that she couldn't wait to wear it.
The youngest Gevra sister had to keep her eyes closed as she had woken up. The light of the morning stung her eyes like sharp needles and her lack of balance caused the world to spin around her. The only remedy she found best was to shake her head up and down while grinding her teeth. Sometimes it was too hard for her to violently shake that much, so she stopped and allowed herself to try and handle the pain. This would go on while Elibeth shut the blackout shades and dimmed the lights in the room.
As they lumbered into the kitchen, she knew to strap herself into her specialized high chair, complete with steadying gloves and gel-leg rests to help her erratic body calm down. The moment she felt secure inside of its warm embrace, she no longer felt like she fell through the air, constantly tumbling past clouds as the ground whipped across her view. Now at least she felt like she sat in a roller coaster- at least she felt protected. Elibeth prepared her breakfast as Rhonda practiced her breathing exercises and reviewed the day's plans. She was going to finish learning how to say those words and how to cut out and paste shapes onto their correct spaces so she can finally start learning other things.
But she was trapped. She could barely say anything. She could barely control herself. She wanted to scream out to Katrina, to Elibeth, to Sara, to her parents, that she wasn't weak. She wasn't out of control. That she was normal like everyone else. But she just had a few more roadblocks to deal with than others, a few more kinks in her system that needed to be fixed.
But when her head wasn't spinning, the light piercing her skull, sounds ringing in her ears, the feeling of the ground overwhelming her legs, she tried to practice her basic ABC's. She couldn't get past "Q", no matter how hard she tried.
Maybe that will change today.
If only she could make a way for her mind to speak for herself, instead of needing a mouth...
Even with all of those problems, she still enjoyed her oatmeal, no matter how plain it was, trying as hard as she could to keep control of her hand from feeding the bib tied around her neck. She gulped down her strawberry-banana smoothie, even though most of it missed her mouth, and grumbled as best as she can to say "Thank You" to Elibeth.
"Drrrnku"
Thank you.
"'Mrtgonuuuu."
I'm ready to go now .
Thankfully, Elibeth learned how to help people like Rhonda, especially when the youngest Gevra was just a young girl. She lovingly unstrapped her and held the little girl safely to her chest, as she slowly led her to the classroom next door to continue their lessons.


Stingray- And now for the news...

This should be read like a play...

ANNOUNCER: This is WBZRK, news at 6am! Bringing you all the news that matters to you, without all of the anxiety and stress that comes with normal broadcasts.
MONICA HOROWICZ: Thank you for tuning in. I'm the substitute reporter for this morning. Mary Mackentyler is off tonight for a well deserved break. Her Instagram album sure shows a lot of fun in the sun!
Our first story comes out of Downtown -the place on the south of town for anyone who's triggered by slang speech that's never explained-, where a poor man was taken into safer custody as he tried to forcefully borrow some produce from Stanley's Grocer. The produce was slightly damaged,but it's okay since it was recycled for fertilizer for Stanley's own palm tree.
(Camera pans to the palm tree, slightly wilted to one side but more or less undamaged.)
Such a beautiful palm tree huh? Stanley himself said that he was slightly shaken up but will receive counseling for his newly diagnosed PTSD.
(Camera pans back to MONICA)
We'll be back after these messages.....
COMMERCIAL ANNOUNCER:    IF YOU'VE BEEN INJURED IN AN ACCIDENT, A FALL, AN ARGUMENT, YOU MAY BE ENTITLED TO MORE THAN JUST MONEY. CALL 1800GETBACK FOR RECOVERY FROM THE FOLLOWING  DISORDERS OBTAINED BY THESE INCIDENCES:
PTSD- SOCIAL MEDIA, SOCIAL ANXIETY DISORDER-FAMILY OUTINGS, PERSONALITY DISORDER-CAR ACCIDENTS, IDENTITY CRISES-GETTING FIRED, LACK OF AFFECTION -ARGUMENTS WITH A PARTNER,
AND MORE!
JOHNSON, REECKO AND GEFFNER ARE HERE FOR YOUR MENTAL DISORDERS AND THERAPY NEEDS. WE DON'T ASK FOR MONEY UNTIL YOU HAVE FULLY RECOVERED AND GOTTEN WHAT YOU FULLY DESERVE. CALL 1800GETBACK NOW. THE CALL IS FREE AND THE CONSULTATION IS FREE. CALL 1800GET BACK NOW.
(Commercial ends. Camera turns back on to MONICA)
MONICA: Welcome back. Now let's check in with our upcoming weather report, sponsored by Paradise recovery centers. Here to tell us is Richard Prytweller.
RICHARD: Thank you Monica. Judging by these winds and cloud formations, it looks like there will be some rain- but don't worry people. For those scared of rain, we are giving you plenty of time to get your rain gear, as it's coming in two days. For those scared of the clouds before it rains, we urge you to call a therapist if your anxiety starts acting up. The winds will be slow -around 1 1/2 miles per hour, so it will feel more like a soft breeze than anything else more violent. That's the forecast over the next two days but when we come back, we'll tell you when the SUN returns!
MONICA: GREAT! The sun's coming back!! Can't wait!
RICHARD: Me neither Monica! Back to you!
MONICA: Thank you Richard. We'll get back to his full weather forecast soon, but first a special report.
ANNOUNCER: THIS SPECIAL REPORT IS SOMETHING GOOD I'M SURE.
MONICA: Not today, Announcer. For those that get triggered by this, we urge you to call a therapist.
A masked character was spotted on police surveillance as it seemed to demolish some traffic lights and street lights to cause a major accident on the throughway. No one was seriously injured but it did cause traffic to halt to a standstill throughout the past few hours.
As well, a whole street downtown has been shaken up since last night after a masked infiltrator caused hundreds of dollars in damage to cars, trees, a mailbox and manhole covers. No one has identified the person but they appeared to fly away afterwards on what looks to be a jet back. We'll have more information as it develops, but for now, let's check back in with Richard on when the SUN comes back... 

Stingray- This is More Fun Than Banging My Head Against a Wall

My teachers all think I have ADHD. Some of them think I have something called Anti-social personality disorder. My nanny makes me take adderall every morning with orange juice. While Katy submerges herself with her favorite articles on the web as we drive to school in our limo, I just look out the window at the others on the streets. Sometimes I wonder what their stories are, what their goals are and what their lives are like. Other times I wonder how their lives suck, how they fell to where they did; even how easy it would be to seduce them into going to that bad place- to where they'd be willing to throw it all away for fantasy.
I work on my evil sneer sometimes when I look in the mirror. Look, I'm not a villain. I'm nothing like the ones I hear about on the news. I hear of people like the Joker, Harley Quinn, green goblin and others on the news all of the time. I could never be like them. Ever. Trust me.
I'm just bored. Yep. I'm just bored. I feel like the champion of a video game, like I mastered every single level already and I've reached my prime. Now I just keep thinking about how to make the most of it.
So I cheer on both sides of the fight, even if it felt like our own private fight club, with the grunts and punishing blows exchanged under the amber lights of the parking lot.
Katy and Elibeth know that I go to hang out by my friends' houses afterwards. My parents, even while serving in other countries, know that I come home late, with my work done and my outfit untouched.
But they know nothing about this. We cheer and drink as the boys fight. We splash them with water between breaks. Girls even try to intimidate the other by necking boys in front of them. It's a mess. A glorified mess. Yet the only mess I'm truly interested in is the one between my legs.
My duffel bag, you sicko. Once the fight is done (no one really cares who won) and we all retire to one of their houses to listen to Slackhorse Nifty's EDM experiments sprinkled with even more gossip and laughter, I bade my time. I bade my sweet time while following the currents of what everyone wants to do. Sometimes the city is ours; other times it's just mine.
The party ends late every night, but I have a ride bring me home, all the while with my engraved Engrini Sofle duffle bag close by. Yet I don't come home yet. They aren't expecting me home. I learned to break the rules only when they find no proof that I did. So I ride up past the penthouse, up to the roof, past the water towers and solar panels and pull it out like a prized possession.
It looks like equipment from a forgotten sport. The suit is a mash-up of spandex, kevlar and speedo, a weird combination I got from a shady friend who had connections. I fold my clothes neatly and slip into the familiar cloth, without a care that I just publicly changed clothes atop the highest tower in the city. I strap on the marastrike 480 propulsion kit to my back, its 45 pounds weighing me down, with only the promise of it holding me up in a few seconds. As I slip on my trikkity three-sixty biker helmet, I begin to feel my life slip out from underneath me- in a good way. After finally finding something to do, my heart beats out of my chest. This isn't the first time I've done this though. This has become a ritual for me, to do something extraordinary.
As I fly, I think of myself as a psycho with wings. And it feels good. So I raise hell.
Why?
Because I'm bored. And I need something to do.
......................................................................................

Stingray Chapter 2- Unnamed

I wish my sister would stop grinning like that. I swear, if she flashes her teeth, she looks like the Joker. Really. She has the features around her mouth, just in much softer tones than him. Although I can't help but wonder why he acts like that. Literally tries to set fire to Gotham every time he breaks out of that stupid asylum.
Whatever. She's cool anyway. She latches on to me like a leech, but instead of sucking away the good, she's getting rid of the bad. I look at her and see myself when I was her age. So young and reckless- I love that.
Hang on a second. There's this girl trying to get a seat at our table, licking her chops like she had just given head to some jock on the football team. Like that was a VIP pass now.
"Move away from our table, you dirty skank. Just because you blew Thomas doesn't give you a right to sit with us. Get your sexed up face out of mine you hook."
That's better. She was stinking up the place anyway.
As I take a bite out of some lame excuse of a lunch I launch right back into the juicy gossip swidling around me at our little table at the far left corner of the huge lunchroom.
What are the other girls talking about again?
"...So Tommy, like the loser he is, is trying to get back with Zoey but Alex already got to her. He found out the hard way."
Right. Tommy. Melissa's ex-boyfriend. Like really ex-boyfriend. Like he-wanted-nudes-before-the-second-date-desperate-material ex-boyfriend.
"When's the fight?"
"Tonight, in the parking lot when the principal leaves."
Fights were always an exciting time for her. We got to see a few dumb jocks duke it out on top of asphalt. Shirts would be torn, sweat will glisten on their bulky bodies, blood will be drawn...
"Speaking of parking lots, oh my G-d," Spener spoke out loud, his chin quivering without an ounce of self-control.
"Look at Katie's thermals. They look like she rubbed them on the asphalt before walking in."
"Ha! More like tried fitting into them first!"
After Kim's additional comment, we laughed long and proud. Who was going to stop us? Between all of us, our parent's ran the school, owned companies, won numerous military awards and accolades and single-handedly monopolized the divorce lawyer market. Who would dare stop us?
I sigh loudly, a trademark of mine, somehow even drowning out the bell for class.
Man, what a time to be alive.
"Sara, you deaf? C'mon girl," Kim called to me, waking me from another perfectly good trance. "Bell rang. Let's go."
As we leave the massive room together, I toss the remainder of whatever lunch that was into the garbage, disregarding the recycle signs. All I can think about is the fight that's going to happen. No wait, that's only the first good part; the best will be happening after that...
As the gossip and selfies flutter around me like beautiful butterflies, I get a glimpse of my own Katy before heading into my own classroom(Katrina hates that I call her Katy, but it's a cuter name, right?). She's in the back of her classroom, wearing that cute shirt and jeans combo and laughing with a bunch of my own friends' siblings. That girl is going to take over the school, I'm sure. And she'll enjoy every moment of it.
Every evil,
nasty,
horrible,
wonderful part of it.



Thursday, March 17, 2016

Version 2.0 AVAILABLE NOW!

Hey everyone!

Just wanted to let you all know that the best version of Second to the Right yet is available now! With these changes and more:

- Enhanced dialogue and content
- Extra tidbits to bring the story more to life, such as new fonts and pacing
- Spacing and other grammatical errors fixed


Order your enhanced copy today! Let me know what you think!

Monday, February 29, 2016

Peter Pan and The Lost Sample Chapter 4


She woke up surrounded by the smells of fish and algae, while her dark hair stuck to the round edges of her face and scattered over the rocks. Her legs ached in a satisfying way. The young girl gathered herself at the edge of a lagoon, the blue-green water steaming like smoke over fire. As she groggily stood up on the rocks, she could see shapes in the water, like ones dolphins make near the surface. As she took in the world around her, she had a feeling that it wasn’t home.

 As she climbed up the rocks to get a closer look, she noticed the shadow of a high cliff overlooking the lagoon. A trickling stream fell off the edge like a child into their father’s arms. The cliff had apparently lost rocks over the years, so she stepped on the huge rocks protruding from the underside.

Curiously, she was still wearing her bathing suit, a one-piece with maroon and yellow stripes down her body, like a colourblind Zebra. She felt rather uncomfortable after wearing it for what seemingly felt like days. She vaguely remembered her trip with her Aunt Bertha to Kensington Garden’s pond, where she loved to swim. Yet her Aunt had brought someone new along and didn’t want to spend time with her that much. Somehow she found a new island in the center of the pond inhabited by birds, including tiny flamingoes…

Which she now realized had grown so tall, their heads poked above the clouds! Their enormous pink feathers blew in the winds above as pillar-like legs shuffled the water, their backs carrying a body of water that swayed with each step.

Lagoons, on top of flamingoes! But that’s not possible…

She stared upwards until she heard another voice call to her-

“Maple! What are you waiting for? The water is fine!”

Turning down in surprise, she saw a girl waiting for her at the mouth of the lagoon, someone older than her with a beautiful shell in her hair. Her eyes were wide and blue, with sharp cheekbones that gave room for gills and slits for where a nose should be. Her pale webbed hands folded in front of her, gripping onto the moss.

A mermaid…

She knew it was a mermaid, and that it knew her name. Then she remembered thinking that the island could use a mermaid or two, or three. Suddenly, she saw two other equally gracefull mermaids jump through the water in glee, as if they had returned hom from a long trip away. She looked down as more of them waited for her, their tails flapping happily beneath the water, the sun illuminating the colours in their barnacled hair.

As she stepped away from the cliffs, she jitter-bugged to the edge of a diving board. She used to do that by the ocean, but now she had no smelly saltwater to worry about. Without a second thought she shimmied off the edge into a perfect dive over their heads.

The lagoon had bathed in sunlight enough to make the water perfectly warm. She swam up for a breath as the other mermaids surrounded her in friendly circles. Maple knew that mermaids were magical, and this time she was the reason they existed. She had seen them hatch from their unprotected eggs and led them to the sea. They even considered her royalty amongst their kind, as they never saw a human before. How many girls would reject the offer to become a mermaid princess? Surely Maple wouldn’t turn that down. She even gave them names; Madeline, Dolphin, Silverfin, Azure and Sirena (a word she learned from her friend).

Her strokes were clumsy compared to the grace of the mermaids. As she swam faster, she forgot about Aunt Bertha and her whiny boyfriend Johanns. They found underwater caves and played underwater tag. They flew with the fish, her new friends helping her swim faster than she ever though she could, her legs pumping with their powerful tails. Now she remembered why her legs hurt. Sirena held her shoulders as they streaked across the waters of Neverland, in what could only feel like a dream. Only when they suddenly stopped did she wake up; the fact that she didn’t have a stopping system like the mermaids caused her to skip on the water’s surface like a smooth stone.

“Oh no! Maple!”

Flipper dived down after her, but she couldn’t find her. Only Azure had the idea to look up at the shoreline, the place their domain ended.

Maple looked up in a furious daze, forcing her brain to stop moving. She stood up and took in her surroundings again, this time with the light of the sun constantly smacking her eyes shut. After shooing it away with her hand, she finally took in the warm sand curling around her toes, the breeze churning the leaves of the palm and oak trees and the neverending stretch of beach covering the island like the cover of a beautiful picture book.

She never expected to see other humans here, yet there they came. Two of them and a third flying-

A person was flying?! She had never seen that before.

Then the flying one sped at her at top speed, a sword glinting in the light.

She knew what it was like to see someone wield a weapon at her. It never ended well.

“Maple!! Come back to the water! Now!”

Dolphin crawled up to the shore, her powerful arms pulling like a sea turtle. She heeded her advice without second guessing. She was safely in the water in time to seek cover amongst the mermaids.

It’s never been documented what a mermaid looks like when in danger, but when their favorite human is threatened, they don’t swim away quietly.

They snarled at pitches only a crocodile could match in ferocity. Their mouths extended downward, exposing many rows of ripping teeth. Their eyes expanded as their gills inflated to double their size. Their tails found a balance in the water, standing on the water itself to a frightening 6 feet above.

Yet Peter stood his ground, facing them with the Glider poised in his favourite form; sword extended in his left hand with his right petting the air behind the ear. Lively, Buckeye and Foxtail stopped running and stared at the spectacle only a few feet in front of them. Only Lively could speak through the standoff.

“What are you? Some kind of fish?”

Madeline turned directly toward her, massive blue eyes meeting hers.

“We are neither, human! We are Mermaids, denizens of Neverland and ruled by the gentle and talented Maple! You touch her and you’ll suffer a slow death beneath the depths!”

Lively contemplated those words aloud, in her typical fashion.

“So you’re mermaids. Got it. But who’s Maple?”

“The girl you just scared into the water!”

Maple raced up to the surface gasping for air. Her fear compressed her lungs and didn’t allow enough air to get in. Lively ignored Azure as she talked to the girl.

“Oy, Maple, right? Can you get your friends to stop trying to attack Peter? He didn’t mean to do that.”

She waded in the blue water, surrounded by her aquatic bodyguards, with the advantage in her favour.

“And why should I do that? You’ll just kill me when my guard is down.”

The mermaids hissed in unison. Lively stepped back while motioning to Buckeye to step in. By the time he could gain composure, the mermaids whisked her away, the biggest one carrying her on its dorsal fin.

They all stared in unison as the mermaids sunk beneath the blue waters, their splashing turning to waves at their feet.

“Why did you do that for?! How could you not tell that she was a grown up?” Lively stormed up to her mentor, blood rushing to her cheeks as sand covered her feet with each step.

He just shrugged his freckled shoulders, the sunlight illuminating a halo of red around his head.

“She was so far away. How was I supposed to know?” He turned away and started building a castle out of the sand, Buckeye and Foxtail joining him soon afterwards. He was about to put the tiles on the roof when he noticed that she wasn’t helping. She just stood there, her usually animated arms tightly folded against her chest.

“What’s wrong, Lively? Why don’t you join us? There’s still a water closet to build.”

She never understood how he worked like that, going from one task to another without caring about what just happened. As she forgot about the whole ordeal and helped build the chimney, she never saw the boy watching from the other side of the islet, with a crocodile not too far behind him.

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Peter Pan and the Lost Sample Chapter 3


His feet dangled far above the rocky valley. All he had with him was a fishing rod and an urge to find a Rockabye Baby. He knew they only came out of the rockswhen no one was around, and when enticed with a tasty treat of worms.

Even though his fishing spot was perfect, Rockabye Babies still took a long time to consider if they were really that hungry, so he started to stare up at his surroundings. The high winds blew his curly hair all over the place as the sky lit up in a bright blue accompanied on one side by a sun with a far happier shade of yellow. Huge mountains peaked over the horizon, with a waterfall splitting in midair to two different pools below.

He knew he was somewhere new. All he knew was that he had been looking to find a way around the massive Kensington Gardens, to his favorite spot by the pond, without his foster parents finding him. Then he passed through a hole in the water and ended up near the massive valley.

At least no one else was around. He felt comfortable being alone, so he pulled down his pants and relaxed as his tail whipped out from below his back. It wasn’t as long as some animals have it, but it was as long as his arm and was even covered in red curly hair, like a fox’s. Yet it begun to feel uncomfortable winding it up underneath his pants, like a coiled spring, all of the time.

After tearing a hole in his khakis to let his extra limb move freely, he returned in time before his rod disappeared over the edge. He couldn’t believe his luck. He caught something! He really did it!

Foxtail, as he liked to call himself, began to fantasize what Rockabye Baby tasted like as he pulled against the rod. He knew that once the rockabye was released from the rocks it would all be over. It was the thrusting from the rock that would be the toughest. His thin arms ached as he struggled to pull it from the rocky floor below.

Soon afterward, he heard a crunching, grinding sound as he felt his efforts reward him all at once. The release of the Rockabye flung him far from the edge, sending him on his backside. His tail helped him stand up and bring his catch up the final hundred feet.

Boy this Rockabye Baby is heavy! I wonder how much they usually weigh.

 He couldn’t really estimate but by how much his arms strained to lift it up. Slowly he turned the taunt line through the rod and pulled it over the edge in a final push through the exhaustion. He lay down on the spot in exhaustion. Sweat ran down his oval face, passing grey eyes as he stared up into the sky, taking deep breaths of the Island’s air. The weather was perfect for impossibilities; not a breath of humidity could be felt as a cool breeze gently swooned over every living thing, as curious about the island’s various surfaces and life as Foxtail was.

He tended to his catch, which had landed belly-up, it’s tiny claw-like appendages waving helplessly in the air. He picked up the massive rock and looked it over. Aside from the claws, it had soft facial features, including small, beady eyes and a wide mouth sucking at the line that used to be occupied by worms.

As he examined it, he wondered how he could eat something like that. As he thought that, it’s massive tongue lapped out and slathered itself over his right forearm. He dropped it before he screamed in revoltion. He hated the feeling of a tongue on his skin. As it crawled away, he began panicking, throwing his arms wildly, his tail whipping the air around him. He knew this feeling too well, as well as what would help. He reached up to his head and twirled his index finger around a curl and pulled. A lock of hair fell out to his satisfaction as he felt his body calm down. He would never try to catch a Rockabye Baby again.

He was still hungry after all of that hard work. Thinking a rock would be tasty had clouded up his vision and stifled the growling of his stomach. He decided to follow wherever his feet took him and figure out what to do from there.

Dry wilderness turned to lush forests of palm, maple and oak trees. He climbed over the thick bushes overladen with creepers and vines, ignoring the rough surfaces that scrapped against the knees of his pants. As sweat trickled down his back, he rolled up his dress shirt and pulled apart the stupid tie he had to wear on Sundays. He even dared to unbutton the shirt and expose his small belly to the savory heat of the understory. He wasn’t even twelve, yet his prominent childhood belly had disappeared in place of a thin figure, with big legs for a child his age. Those same big legs were able to keep him quite literally on his feet as he traversed the terrain for some remnant of civilization.

       He thought about how he was going to make a signal fire when he found a massive tree in the middle of a gap. It was covered in wooden planks, like it was being kept in place by a desperate construction crew. Then he saw the dozens of rotting nooses dangling from above, one of which still had the remnants of a skeleton swaying in the wind. He didn’t even flinch; he just gulped loudly as he moved closer to the tree. It looked to be the only thing that had a touch of civilization for what felt like miles.

Then he saw a hole big enough to climb through. He hesitated for a bit, recalling the nooses hanging above the tree like some twisted decoration. But he saw how rotten they were, and assumed they were abandoned anyway, so he climbed inside.

What he found was unexpected and highly inviting. Piles of twigs and cut pieces of vine were strewn across the floor, as well as some apples, pears and bananas scattered on the big lump of fur in the corner. He slid down the rest of the way inside, flipped an apple up to himself and enjoyed his first meal since the mash he was forced to have that morning. As he crunched down on the apple, core and all, he looked around his new home. The sun was setting on the horizon, splashing bright orange light into the cool, dank hole underground.

The place smelled like freshly cut grass and something else… He couldn’t quite put a finger to the smell. Well, he was going to have to get used to it. As the sun set farther down, he thought to maybe set up a bed for himself. He grabbed some of the vines and twigs from a big pile on the floor and dragged them to a chosen corner of the underground room. He knew that he should build a fire to warm himself up should the weather get too cold outside, especially after finding a convenient fireplace carved out of the dirt and out to above ground. He began to pile up some big twigs and find a way to light it…

When he heard people coming! He even heard them!

Oh no! How in the world was he going to get out of this?!?

Before he could even think of a good explanation, he was met with three more pairs of eyes staring right at him, two confused and the other inquisitive of the other two. Peter, Buckeye and Lively caught Foxtail invading their home, his tail whipping around in utter panic.

“Hey, what’s that behind you?” The lanky, black haired boy pointed to his tail. Peter had been looking there already, and Lively’s attention was drawn to it. He thought something else was behind him, but it was just rock and dirt. They were asking about his tail.

“Oh,” he replied awkwardly, not even noticing that the other boy just spoke English.

“It’s my tail. I’ve had it since I was a baby.” He held it proudly in his hand, the tip fidgeting in his right hand. Peter was fascinated by it.

“It’s as red as your hair! Like a fox’s! You have a fox tail! How amazing!”

“Yeah…it is.” No one had ever told him that.

“That’s why I like the nickname my…friends gave me. Foxtail.”

“Foxtail? Sounds perfect!” The girl skipped up to him, matching him in height, her shirt mixed with ram skin and weaved grass, passing down to her knees. She seemed to like his new name as much as the others liked his tail.

“Who…Who are you three, anyway?” He began to feel uncomfortable as she stood eye to eye, nose to nose.

“We are the ones who live here,” She said matter-of-factly, “before you decided to crash in.” The girl spoke as she stayed right in front of him to get a long look with her big eyes and thin unibrow.

“I mean,” He relaxed as she turned away and leaped into a cross-legged seating at her own pile of leaves.

“What are your names? You already know mine.”

“Well,” Buckeye began, pointing to each of them as he listed their names.

“I’m Buckeye,” He pointed to himself,

“She’s Lively,” She waved her right hand violently at him,

“And this is Peter,” He stood there gallantly posing for his own portrait.

“Don’t forget my last name, of course”, Peter said. He turned to the small, lanky, red-haired, tail-having boy in front of him and finished his name.

“Peter Pan is my name.”

Peter Pan? I know that name from somewhere…

Yet he couldn’t quite put a finger on it, and wouldn’t even care to, especially after the rumpus they had that night. They shared uncountable stories and jokes with him and not only accepted him as one of their own, but dragged him out of the burrow into more adventures in the pitch black forest, lit by two moons and a million stars. Thus was the beginning of his new life as a member of the family of Pan, a part of the Lost that never wanted to be found.