Tag Archives: Writing

The Butterfly Dragons


“I just wish they weren’t so afraid of the camera. It’s the only way I ever get to see them,” Aesilver lamented. She sighed and propped her chin in a hand, rose gold hair settling around her long, pointed ears. Her elbows rested on the wooden railing also supporting her camera, but she jutted her hips enough that her decorative bells jingled.

“What are you even talking about?” Calena tossed her lavender bangs from her face, trying to get a better view of the simulated lush environment. Her dangling earrings clinked in response. “This is a botanical gardens. There are no creatures here. You’ll need to go to the zoo.”

Aesilver threw her head back. “Were you not listening to me at all? It took the hover tram two hours to get here. I was explaining the whole way.”

The other elf shrugged. “I guess I tuned it out. All I want to see is the diamond flower. It’s supposed to be the only living plant left in existence.”

“Mm. It is a pity the humans decimated the plant life. Everything is artificial now. Even the animals can only be found in zoos anymore. But that’s to be expected from a race who only values currency.”

Calena played with her holographic phone. “Don’t knock it. Currency is what keeps us living like the princesses we are. Now shut up and tell me what it is you’re trying to find, so we can go look at the diamond flower.”

“The butterfly dragons!” Aesilver lifted the slender camera to her silver eyes. “Be quiet so they’ll come out.” After a few moments of silence, she gasped. Repeatedly smacked her friend’s arm.

Two dragons, no bigger than a fairy butterfly, flitted about the richly colored flowers. Searching for synthesized nectar. Their dainty bodies were patterned exactly off the insects, and there was nothing fearsome about them. In fact, they were thought to be extinct. But they could occasionally be seen in the botanical gardens by a lucky visitor.

Leaning over the railing, Calena squinted. “I don’t see them.” She swatted away the other’s hand. “Stop hitting me.”

Aesilver held the camera display in front of her. Eager to see her pictures. As she scrolled through, she frowned.

“Oh, no…what?”

“I didn’t get any of them.” Her rose gold lips pouted. “We’ll have to wait until they find the courage to come out again. I don’t know why they didn’t show up in any of the pictures. I had it on rapid capture.”

Calena groaned. She allowed her head to fall onto the railing, lavender braids falling around her porcelain face. “We are going to be here forever!”


Memoir? Memoir.

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the first definition for “memoir” reads as such: “A written account in which someone (such as a famous performer or politician) describes past experiences.” At first, this worried me because I thought only famous people could have memoirs. I am by no means famous. Not even famous among my few friends. I have no intentions of becoming famous. If I finally get my books published and they sell enough that I do reach “famous” level, I suppose I would take it in stride. But the reason I write books has nothing to do with popularity.

Thankfully, the dictionary continued. The second definition for “memoir” states: “A written account of someone or something that is usually based on personal knowledge of the subject.” This was what I was looking for. So, in a sense, I have written memoirs before as parts of school projects, and I hadn’t realized the exact definition of what I had written.

Now that I’ve established a memoir is what I thought it was, there comes the decision of what do I start with? Given that I stick to this weekly plan, there are fifty two weeks in the year. That means fifty two memoirs in one year. I know I haven’t had the most exciting life, but I have more than enough topics to fill fifty two slots. At least, I think I do.

Today can be a memoir about, well, memoirs. Redundancies, I know.

One of the main reasons I want to write these memoirs lies in the fact of I want to remember. It is proven that our brains tend to push out memories and facts it deems unimportant to make ways for new information. I’ve already noticed my short term memory has become highly forgetful, and I’m afraid it will start transferring to the long term memories as well. I may not have the most interesting tales, but they’re what make me, me.

And let’s use our imaginations and say my books do sell, they do make enough money I that I reach what most consider the coveted “famous” level. I still plan on keeping this blog. I have yet to reason why I would get rid of it. There are times when I like to go back and read what I’ve already written. See how I grow and how my subject matter revolves. So, if I do become famous, I want to be able to remind myself where I came from and how I got to be. I want to remain humble. There is no need for pride in an already arrogant, self-absorbed world.

In closing for today’s Memoir Monday, I hope these upcoming personal stories will provide some entertainment. Perhaps some insight on why my brain instinctively chooses some of the themes that I do. Give a glimpse into a simple life to reassure you you’re not the only one who has or is struggling with a particular matter. At any rate, I hope you enjoy.

New Plan

After having a couple days of thought–and bothering a close friend of mine until she stopped saying “It’s your blog, do what you want to do”–I believe I have devised a plan. Though, I’m still unsure as to whether or not it will actually work. But here’s to hoping, right? I’m pretty sure a wise being once said, “Do or do not. There is no try.” So, this is what I plan to do:

Sketching Sunday
Memoir Monday
Photography Tuesday
Writing Prompt Wednesday
Poetry Thursday
Freebie Friday
Short Story Saturday

A few things to note. Firstly, I added sketching because I used to do it all the time (before I became a die-hard perfectionist with my art), and I had relatively decent confidence in my drawing skills. I’m honestly not sure what happened other than I stopped sketching. Secondly, I have no idea if Monday will stay as “memoir.” Are people even interested in that sort of thing? It’s not like I’ve led a particularly exhilarating life. I guess I’ll find out. Let’s see…. Thirdly, I love writing prompts. Normally, I find them on my own–in nature, observing other people, daily life, etc. However, I will be using predetermined, freely-handed out writing prompts. I have a bunch saved, and it’s about time I put them to use. Lastly, I’m in love with “Freebie Friday” because it gives me a day that isn’t set. So if I have an extra poem, short story, photo, whatever I want, I can post it on Friday.


Well. Enough said. I’m fairly satisfied with my new plan. Fingers crossed I can be disciplined. I suppose I better use this space to apologize in advance in case I’m not consistent. Or if I forget. I happen to be a forgetful person. Or if I screw it up. I’m sure that’s bound to happen at some point. Anyhoo, I’ll leave this here for now. I’ll start tomorrow with “Freebie Friday.” As I said in my previous post, if you have any suggestions or tips, I’ll be more than happy to read them in the comments! Thanks again!

Looking for Feedback

So, obviously, we are in a new year. The next few days will be people making all kinds of resolutions and trying their hardest to keep them. Some may only make their resolutions last this week, some may make it a month, maybe six months. Congratulations if you’re one of those people who can keep a resolution for a whole year. That takes discipline. Do I have any resolutions? No. Because I’m not disciplined, a New Year resolution is simply setting myself up for failure. However, I would like to talk to you guys about something while we’re on the topic of discipline.

A little bit ago, I used to be extremely consistent about posting something on this blog every single day. Whether it be short stories, photography, poems, art, etc. Unfortunately, life happens, I get stressed, and I make excuses to do as little as possible to keep myself sane. That’s something I would like to change. I’ve been trying to think of ways to keep myself posting once a day, and I think I may have come up with a solution. But I would appreciate everyone’s input.

I was thinking each day of the week could be themed. Like Wednesday could be Writing Prompts. Friday could be…free verse? Short story Saturday. Shooting Sunday for photography. No. No, that title won’t work. You know what I’m trying to get across, don’t you? Basically creating a calendar of content to keep me focused. This is where I need guidance.

When I was younger, I could not follow a weekly chore chart to save my life. Not even in my teenage years. Don’t ask me why; I couldn’t tell you. I never did it on purpose. It was just something that I never thought about, I guess? Long story short, I am not disciplined. Therefore, I think a routine might help me, but I also think it might not.

I guess what I’m trying to get across is: I really like the idea of themed days for the week, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to pull it off. I don’t want to let anybody down. I need your help. Has anyone structured a fiction blog like this? Does it work? Are there other tips I can try? I just want to be consistent for you all and provide daily content. Please leave suggestions, tip, tricks, etc. in the comments! Thank you all so much for your support!


Long (Poem)

*Author’s Note: I decided to write either a short story or a poem for each of the drawings that I complete for Inktober. I know I’ve been rather absent on this blog for the past few(?) months. I’ve been letting life get in the way of my muses, so I’m hoping the daily challenges will help jump start me back into writing on a more consistent basis. As I didn’t decide to do so until this morning, there may be a few posts that go up today. This poem goes with the drawing I made yesterday.

How long will you lie
Up until the time you die
Something that’s inevitable
Completely unavoidable
Lining your tongue with silver
The truth isn’t even a sliver
You have no meaning of trust
All your relationships bust
You can only blame yourself
When you put honesty on a shelf
There is nothing you can say
That’ll justify you devious ways
Prepare to forever be alone
All that you loved will be gone
Who wants to be around a liar
I’m better off standing in fire
You’re a ruthless, insensitive soul
Convincing others lead is actually gold
Up until the time you die
I’m sorry that’s how long you’ll lie

Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman

In celebration of seeing Wonder Woman, I decided to share this piece I drew back in 2012, during my first semester of college. It was the first project my drawing class had been assigned. The task was to draw something we felt represented ourselves, our style, and our inspiration. I chose to recreate a picture done by Jim Lee, one of my favorite DC Comics artists.

Wonder Woman has always been more than just a comic book character to me. Outside of my mom, she was the only real female figure I had. And she taught me many things. True strength comes from within, not from your muscles. No matter what size I am, I can still do anything I set my mind toward. All I need is love, compassion, and the courage to be myself. And lastly, I don’t have to be Wonder Woman to be a wonderful woman.

I won’t lie. I cried quite a bit when I saw the Wonder Woman movie. One of my childhood icons was now more than animated character or a drawing on a page. She was on a big screen in live action. She became real. That movie was everything I could have asked for and more. I was so happy to see my hero, that I couldn’t help but cry.

This is one of the things I love about books/comics/TV shows/video games/movies, etc. Usually, everyone finds their hero. That one character that stands out the most to them. The one that connects with them the most. People learn from these characters, are inspired to be their best by these characters. The list could go on.

I know there’s a difference between the real world and fantasy. I am not blind to my everyday responsibilities. But whether it’s reading a book or comic to forget myself for a little while, whether it’s playing a video game to release my frustration, whether it’s writing stories or poems to vent my feelings, fiction does help me get through this thing we call life. Just as music does. Just as chatting with family and friends does. And Wonder Woman? Well. She’s an aspect of fiction that’s helped me the most.

The Guardian Demon

An airhorn blasted through the apartment. Damien then took the noise-maker into the sole bedroom, blaring it again. “Rise and shine.”

Sadie pulled the blankets over her head with a loud moan. “It’s Saturday! I don’t work. Let me sleep.”

“I made pancakes!” He let off the airhorn again.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

His face dropped. “Well. I am who I am.”

With another groan, she pulled herself out of bed. Shuffled into the kitchen. Her guardian close behind. Sadie plopped into a chair, glaring at Damien. “These better be the best pancakes, or I swear, I’ll–”

“You’ll do what?” He patted her head when he set a plate in front of her. “You can’t hurt me. But I can hurt you.” He winked.

She eyed him as he sat across from her. “How did I get stuck with the likes of you, anyway? I thought supernatural guardians were supposed to be angels.”

Damien frowned. “Hey, some demons, like me, are angels. Fallen ones but still angels. I got tired of Lucifer constantly complaining about you humans. The guy never stops. Am I not allowed to work towards what I once was?”

“Like I’d know. You think I’m an encyclopedia on supernatural knowledge? Think again.” Sadie took a bite of her pancakes. Eyes brightening when she tasted them. “Wow. These are good.” She pointed her fork at him. “Not good enough to wake me up at six A.M., though.”

Placing his chin in a hand, he smiled. “I’m glad you like them. I spent all night finding the perfect recipe. It’s a good thing I don’t need sleep.”

“But I do. How many times have we gone over this? And stop writing reminders on the bathroom mirror. I’m pretty sure you use blood, and I don’t need the FBI in here.”

His hands went up. “It’s animal blood, I swear.”

She spat out her pancake. “Are you insane?”


“Don’t answer that question.” She massaged her temples. “All the neighbors probably think I’m some sort of psycho maniac.”

Damien rolled his eyes. “Please. You act like I have no skill. Besides, it’s from roadkill. I’m not a complete heathen.”

“How is that any better? I swear–”

“You’re not supposed to swear.”

Sadie blinked. “What are you? My ‘personal demons’ manifested into a human male body? Because you are ridiculous.”

“Uh, no. Your ‘inner demon’ is Brittany. She’s one of the populars, so I don’t step on her turf.”


“The ‘seven deadly sins’ are Brittany. Well, for you, anyway. Each person’s inner demons are usually just one demon. The inner demons are an elite hierarchy I stay away from. They’re all a bunch of snobs with their special powers and abilities.”

“You’ve been my guardian for, what, three months now? And every single day you manage to say something completely off-guard.”

“I’m ridiculously old. I have a lot of knowledge.”

She pushed herself away from the table. “I’m going to take a shower.”

He sighed through his nose as he watched her walk away. Mumbled to himself. “Didn’t even finish the pancakes. All the work I do around here, and what do I get? Nothing.” He cleaned up the mess from breakfast.

“Damien!” came a piercing screech.

His head sunk between his shoulders. She found his fresh message on the mirror. Then his eyes widened, tearing to the bathroom. He had forgotten to clean up his writing material.

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