Friday, December 12, 2014

Excerpt from Malcolm Haven's Novel

            You’ll never amount to anything. You’ll drag us all down with you foolish ways. It’s your fault your mother’s tired. It’s your fault your brother is weak. It’s your fault your sister’s hungry. It’s all your fault…undeserving wretch. My father’s words rang in my head. I had been running for hours trying to get them to stop. But his monstrous figure kept appearing in my mind followed by his thick, angry words.
My ragged shirt and trousers clung to my skinny, sweaty frame. My brown hair was glued around my face in wet curls. Only the cobblestone street felt cool. I kept my head down as I weaved through the darkening alleys. Shops were closing and the swells of New York locked themselves into their comfortable parlors. My stomach growled as a whiff of left over dinner floated in the breeze. I put my hand in my pocket and rubbed two coins together. He’ll never know… Shrugging I turned toward a bakery but stopped short of the door. You’re short on cash as it is…it’ll only make it worse. I fought with myself but reluctantly turned back and ran up Kingston Street.
            The alley I slipped into was lined with waste and laundry draped from window to window. The settling night was interrupted by the occasional sound of skin hitting skin, a child’s cry, or a mother’s warning. Coming to the last cracked, wooden door on the right, I slowly pushed it open. It was dim inside, only lit up by three small candles. Please be asleep, I thought as I closed the door quietly. When I turned around, my heart sank. At the broken table sat my younger brother, Matthew, a shiner just below the eye. His chin shook and he shifted toward my baby sister Maylee. The tiny toddler had her curly head on her thin arms that were held up by the table top. Her eyes drooped with sleep. Mama stood behind them silent and grey. Gulping I forced myself to look in the back corner where the shadows lurked. Pa sat in his broken rocker with a half empty bottle in his left hand and a cigarette was in his right.
            “Hullo Pa.” I said with all the courage I had.
            “Late…as usually,” the man growled lowly.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

New synopsises

I came up with a new synopsis for my main novel.

Love's Protector:

Fighting to survive an abusive, alcoholic father and earn enough money to keep a roof over his families’ head, Malcolm Haven walks the line between right and wrong. When things at home get worse, Malcolm turns to the streets. Life becomes a constant adrenaline rush. Malcolm begins to live on the edge and taunt danger. His cockiness gets the better of him and he is forced down a new path. Will it be for better or for worse? 

And a friend and I are writing an orphan story about Sethyl and Dan Callaghan...we call it

Lion and the Lamb:

A young boy and his little sister fend for themselves after their parents die in a train explosion. After months of telling his sister fairytale of how their parents were on an extravagant trip, the truth comes out and he realizes he wants a different childhood for her than pickpocketing on the streets with him. Taking her to their aunt and uncle's house, he decides to give her a better future, even if it means living with an uncle who abuses him. With an Orphan Train ride in their future and a new beginning with a family, he struggles to hand over the parenting roll and be a child himself. 

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

My Sayings 2

"We authors hate numbers. That's why we only do well in Algebra."

"History is like English, well, its is more a part of English. It is a key to a story. It is a way of unlocking mysteries."

"To write is to open doors you never knew existed."

"If you ask for a novel, I'll write you one with a bit of love, a bit triumph, and a whole lot of desperation. If you ask for a poem, I'm gonna write one with broken hearts, and lonely cries. If you ask for an essay, I'll write one with little facts, some structure, a whole bunch of heated opinions. If you ask me to write a short story, I'm gonna write the creepiest narrative you'll ever read. If you ask me for a speech, I'll give you nothing...except maybe a blank, wide-eyed, stare."

"Some say 'you wear your heart on your sleeve' but honestly, I write it."

"Writing is my first language, speech is my second. Now you can see why I prefer not to mention I'm bilingual."

Thursday, September 25, 2014


Woke up and it was raining. The sky was grey and gloomy. The trees swayed with the wind and the air...oh the sweetest scent ever. I was so happy. The dark melancholy scene before me made me swell with joy. It made me think of Thunder and I longed the heavens would burst forth in a storm. It would make my happiness soar even more.

Now the sky is blue and blotched here and there with fluffy white clouds and I'm still happy...but normal content...not ecstatically happy. I can't wait until the next rain. And I hope we get a storm. Oh how I love when the sky starts to grumble and flash.

Yeah I'm a bit weird. But hey, someone has to be.

#Poet #Novelist #Dreamer

Friday, September 19, 2014

Why I do What I Do

So I'm a writer. There are a lot of us on planet Earth. And there is always that one question people like to ask. "Why do you write?" Well, I've answered this so many times and honestly the answer changes. It has to do with what is going on in life when they ask. Am I down in the dumps? Am I perfectly happy? Do I have activities that give me thrills? I've answered, "Because God's given me a gift", "It's my passion", "I can't live without it", "It's apart of me" and so on. I found that there is always one common theme. Each answer has to do with a connection. That there is something in writing that is stuck in my heart. That there is a need to do it, a duty if you will. And now I've come up with my new answer:

Writing is a release. For me, writing is primarily a way of expressing myself. It is the main way I can collect my emotions and turn them into something. It is how I let them free. Inside I can't really see them clearly, so by putting them down in ink, I can see and process them. Sometimes I don't know what I feel until its written boldly before me. I have a hard time letting the emotions out and it creates pain. But when I write them out, the tension is gone.

So that is why I do what I do.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Saddle Up

Courage. Cowardice. The two things I fight with. Am I courageous? Or am a I a coward. Often I think I am a coward. To scared to do this, to weak to try that, to shy to do this. But what is courage? John Wayne describes courage like this, "Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway." Taking Wayne's quote and rephrasing it to define cowardice would read as, "Cowardice is being scared to death and tossing the saddle away." Reading this I stand corrected. I am no coward. I have courage. Sure I'll admit I'm scared to death at times...but I still go out and ride. I will ride until I am unable. I shall not give up. I'm a cowgirl. So what about you? Do you have courage? Or are you a coward? Come on, saddle up your horse. Cowgirl up. It's time to ride that wild horse.

Monday, May 26, 2014


This is dedicated to the soldiers that fought, the soldiers that are fighting, and the soldiers that will fight. <3

Strong and brave
Their lives they gave
All hell broke loose
No hope of a truce

Youths that fought
Parents that shot
Lakes of thick blood
Bullets like a flood

Screams of the dying
Snarls of the lying
The bellows of guns
The sacrifice of sons

A mother's loud cry
A sisters desperate 'why'
Freedom had its cost
Love ones had been lost

Terrors eat the mind
Bodies they could not find
Limbs that were no more
Fire, blood, and gore

Man's innocence snatched away
The price they did pay
For generations to be free
And hope of a child's destiny

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

"Double Life"

You think you know me well
But I’m playing a double life
If you asked, I would never tell
What I have done with a knife

You think I am always strong
And that this smile is true
Sorry, but you’re dead wrong
You don’t know what I do

There are feelings inside of me
That I cannot attempt to explain
Matched with scars I try to hide
They are evidence of my pain

A thousand nights I have cried
Tried to feel, but came out numb
A thousand times I have lied
Oh, what a wreck I have become

Would you care how much I bled?
Or how my skin is forever scarred?
Would you care if I were dead?
Or visit my grave out in the yard?

You can say I am here for a reason
You can ask and beg me to quit
Say this will pass with the season
Sorry but I’ve made another slit

It is an addiction and my only relief
“Get help” is easier said than done
I swore myself to silence like a thief
My world is shattered, I trust no one

This is me, a heart so shut
Now you see, I am cut

I wrote this for some friends...and myself...and others suffering from this. Please, know this is not healthy, you need help, and that the pain does end. 

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

"Just Be Held"

Hold it all together
Everybody needs you strong
But life hits you out of nowhere
And barely leaves you holding on

And when you're tired of fighting
Chained by your control
There's freedom in surrender
Lay it down and let it go

So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away
You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your worlds not falling apart, its falling into place
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held

If your eyes are on the storm
You'll wonder if I love you still
But if your eyes are on the cross
You'll know I always have and I always will

And not a tear is wasted
In time, you'll understand
I'm painting beauty with the ashes
Your life is in My hands

Lift your hands, lift your eyes
In the storm is where you'll find Me
And where you are, I'll hold your heart
I'll hold your heart
Come to Me, find your rest
In the arms of the God who wont let go 
-Casting Crowns

Sunday, April 27, 2014

“Shattered World”

I  lost my innocence
A long, long time ago
I gave up my impotence
To my relentless foe

I knew it was all wrong
And played a sinless girl
I lost where I had belong
Emotions began to swirl

I fought the battle of wills
Got beat down so low
My body shook with chills
I waited for the next blow

The mountain was mine
But only for a second
I was shown my shrine
Quickly I was beckoned

My spirit was no more
There would be no fight
It would no longer soar
I walked from the light

The horizon held no hope
My fate meant nothing
I slid to the end of my rope
The pain was crushing

My shackles cute deep
And I screamed out
I was dropped in a heap
I was caught in doubt

I was beaten and I broke
He was going for the kill
Laughed as I began to choke
Cut me with such skill

One by one, I was frayed
Life swung by a thread
My throat was at the blade
In seconds, I could be dead

Whispering in desperation
I said a simple prayer
I gave up the information
Made my soul bare

My head bowed, it was done
I waited for my sentence
Could have stared down a gun
I would show repentance

Silence stretched on and on
My guard was coming down
Yet no words of my con
Just a piercing, sad frown

I wished for a harsh word
Stripes across my feeble back
Reality was being blurred
My shoulders began to wrack

Sobs I gave of true sorrow
My heart tore so very hard
Sympathy I would not borrow
Was I to be forever scarred?

They gave me forgiveness
Offered warm embraces
There was no stiffness
I was in there good graces

Yet my mind whirled around
I was a prisoner set free
My hands and feet unbound
I uttered an apology

Where did we go from there?
Would life continue to spin on?
Whatever came after I would bear
A price was paid, a battle was won

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

“Victory is Mine”

I standing in the roaring wind
Battered and confused
I was free but now am pinned
Cast away and abused

My eyes can no longer see
Blinded and cold
There is no more hope for me
Gone and sold

I march to the executioner’s drum
Defiant and unafraid
I will not feel it for I am numb
Lonely and betrayed

Go ahead and do your best
Stone and jeer
You can beat me like the rest
Tear and spear

I will not satisfy you with a cry
Tough and impenetrable
I know that I am to one day die
Dark and inevitable

I will fight to the last breath
Fierce and strong
Whether to liberty or death
Short or long

I will bruise and bleed
Stagger and fall
But I shall never plead
Surrender or call

But the victory is mine

Monday, April 21, 2014

I Fight

I live in a world with words
Dreams that are my reality
I soar among the birds
Locked away from society

People like to say what I need
Push me out in the world to see
But their word I do not heed
Because inside I am truly free

My hands are in chains
But my heart is not bound
Life has inevitable pains
Yet I fight to be unbound