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Random Writing Bits, Thoughts, and Excerpts

Practice. Practice. Practice. 

A Death

11/21/2022

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Today, I almost died. Now I will write as if I were dead and able to articulate my thoughts-

My corporeal body lies on the cold ground, half tucked beneath the front of a medium-sized sedan. I am above myself, staring down at the scene. I notice the sunlight streaming down, warming my already cooling limbs for the last time. I’ve never thought about the last time I’d feel the sun. And if I were to have imagined such a last experience, it wouldn’t have taken place on a regular Monday morning while crossing the street, a car turning too fast into my path, the driver unfocused and unseeing. I dread that this last bit of sunshine, this last bit of warmth ripped away from me, taken. 


All I had wanted was a standing table at the coffee shop on the corner. There were seven seconds left on the street light, giving pedestrians the right of way, and I quickly took my chance upon seeing an available table through the large floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire building. And then the car came and so did the end. Death is sad, but also boring. I had so much to do, to see, to experience, and now there is nothing. 


​I think about what I will miss most. I will miss my partner and the way we’d laugh wholeheartedly together. I’d miss the sky and all of the mysteries it holds. I’d miss the smell of books, of old pages, of wet dog and clean dog, and everything in between. I’d miss all of the senses. Taste, Touch, Sight, Hearing, Smell. I’d miss all of the people special to me, and all of the ones who could have been. I’d miss seeing the wagging tails of happy dogs and the sounds and vibrations of a purring, happy cat.


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Anxiety

3/21/2020

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When I’m feeling anxious and can’t sleep, my mind wanders and I think of anything and everything. Memories from five minutes ago, memories from fifteen years ago. What the hell is going on in the world? Why can’t I stop thinking? Why does sleep seem to hate me? These are some of the questions that float around and taunt me. But other times I remember moments of peace, a word or phrase, a moment with a loved one. Today I thought about one of my aunts, remembering the features of her face that look so much like my fathers, her hair peppered with gray and white, her distinct voice telling me not to worry, “non ti preoccupare, amore.” I focus on moments like those when my anxiety is most overwhelming, and then I take a deep breath. When I exhale, I let the words wash over me, “don’t worry, my love.” 

(from the notes app on my phone 03.21.20)​
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Using a writing prompt for practice

3/10/2020

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Picture
Ended up writing about the demon deciding to raise the child instead of showing the actual raising.

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03.01.20

3/6/2020

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​Her hair was black as a starless night, eyes a blazing, molten gold. The laugh lines around her mouth indicated years gone by, years of laughter. They wondered what she’d found so amusing.
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A short excerpt from the first draft of TKOTNM

3/3/2020

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Ari knew she was dreaming. She could feel the sun warming her skin, the breeze carrying the scent of lavender. She was in a field, where a young girl, who looked as though she were about fourteen, danced. The girl could not see Ari, but Ari watched her curiously. This was a new dream, she knew for sure, as it was unlike any she’d had before. The girl danced, and Ari noted that she wasn’t particularly good, but she looked content. Then the girl began to sing, and her voice wasn’t particularly strong either, but she seemed happy. Ari could feel herself smiling. It was a pleasant dream, she thought. 
        After a while, other girls began to appear in the field. They all looked to be about the same age as the first girl, and they were all lovely. One began to sing, and her voice was wonderful. The first girl stopped singing, looking quite sad. Another began to dance, and her body moved fluidly through the field, her dance a story of the world. The first girl stopped dancing, her head bowing low. The other girls carried on, one painting a perfect replica of the landscape, one writing in a small journal, one lie in the tall grass and stared at the sky, two seemed to be putting on a sort of play, one strummed softly on a lyre, and the last recited a poem to no one in particular. The first girl fell to her knees and sobbed. The other nine girls paid her no mind and went about their business. 
        Ari frowned. Her heart broke for the girl. She attempted to walk toward her, but found that she could not move. Her body was paralyzed. She wanted to yell out, to tell the girl that it was alright, but when she tried to step forward again, she felt herself being pulled back.

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02.17.20

2/17/2020

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The Italian countryside was one of ancient beauty and hope. Hope for the future to be just as wonderfully gorgeous and green, plentiful and robust. It was a gateway into the past. Maria hadn’t been here for years, but it was just as she remembered it. 
      Her Nonno’s vigneto still looked the same as it had ten years before; the terracotta roof in various shades of oranges and browns, the tan paint of the farmhouse chipping slightly, but still wonderful in it’s lightness, its proximity to the land. The ancient slopes, each hill and curve so unique, bright green in some spots, dark green in others. It was like a Tuscan painting that had been depicted by so many artists before.
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The Hooded Figure

5/22/2018

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"​The armed man could have sworn he saw a smile through the balaclava covering their face. He sucked in a breath and jabbed the knife toward their stomach, but the figure caught the blade in their gloved hand, and held onto it so tightly that blood ran down the hilt of the knife through the sliced palm of the glove. Crimson blood for a crimson knife. "

(Excerpt taken from my original WIP)
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Writing Exercise turned Anime Wiki

1/21/2018

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I’m trying to get some writing done today. This is an exercise, practice if you will, just to get the writing juices flowing. I always thought ‘writing juices’ was such a weird thing to say, but hey, if there are actual juices to help with writing, I’ll take twelve. What am I attempting to accomplish today? I ‘m trying to come up with a numeric system of magic and spells for my fantasy novel. It’s hard to start from scratch, but I keep thinking about the system of magic in the manga/anime Bleach. I know, I know, you’re thinking about what an anime nerd loser I am, and I accept that, but just know that you’re missing out.
     Anyway, after doing some research, I learned that the basic system of fighting techniques for Shinigami (Soul Reapers) in Bleach is called Zankensoki. It’s a combination of four words, each four elements being basic skills and techniques. Broken down, ‘Zan’ stands in for Zanjutsu, which is basic sword fighting techniques. Then, onto ‘Ken’ which stands in for Hakuda, or unarmed fighting that focuses on using ones’ body as a primary fighting technique. Thirdly, ‘So’ which stands in for Hoho, which focuses on agility and moving techniques, high speed fighting, and Shunpo [Flash Steps]. Lastly, ‘Ki’ which stands in for Kido, advanced spells that can be broken down into two categories: Hado and Bakudo. Hado are spells used for direct attacks and Bakudo are spells for battle support. Kido requires strong spiritual power, and can be triggered through incantation. Advance practitioners can trigger spells without incantation, but the power of the spell can wane. All four of these primary combat skills can be broken down even further. (A few of these words are missing proper accents. I still can’t figure out how to type in accents on the pc. Sigh.)
      My point is that I want to create a system of magic just as complicated and perhaps even more complex. Perhaps attempting to break down the combat and magical techniques of an anime series was counterproductive, but I feel that understanding how other people have come up with such unique systems is beneficial for me as I attempt to construct my own.
         This writing exercise has taken much longer than I would have liked. Might be time to call it for the day on writing all together. I need coffee.

​01.21.18
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The Coven

12/14/2017

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​The mist carried throughout the gardens and through the trees. It trailed to the cliffs and down to the dark blue sea below, which glistened in the moonlight. The mist buzzed with energy, unlike anything a mere human could fathom, and felt almost tangible in the night sky. All the women that lived near the sea walked to the edge of the cliffs this night, and one by one they leapt into the water below.
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04/30/17

9/7/2017

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Each exhale like the crashing of a wave
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